The Weekender

by Fay Keenan

  ‘Oh, calm down,’ Holly replied. ‘They’re nothing that would drag you into a scandal. But before I show you them, will you let me do something?’

  ‘That depends.’ But, intrigued as he was, Charlie couldn’t refuse. He’d crossed the threshold after all, and the wine and the candles were working their magic on him. ‘Oh, all right then.’

  ‘Just stay there for a sec.’

  Charlie did as he was told, and before he could catch a glimpse of the pictures, Holly had tucked them into the back pocket of her jeans. Grabbing her phone, she swiped to Spotify and selected a song. As the song began to play through the Bluetooth speaker, Charlie raised an eyebrow. ‘Getting a bit retro tonight, aren’t we?’ The song was one from a few years into the millennium, possibly even old before then, with a sultry beat and a smoky-voiced singer. Charlie’s spine began to tingle. ‘This takes me back…’

  ‘Ssh.’ Holly swayed a little to the beat. ‘Think…’ She took the glass from his hand and placed it down on the side table, where it glinted in the candlelight. Straightening back up, she drew a little closer to Charlie. He could see the flecks of light from the candles reflecting off her tousled hair and, just for a moment, a slight hesitation in her expression as she put a hand on his chest.

  Charlie, entranced, but mind still whirling from the strangeness of the situation and the elusiveness of his own memory, slipped his hands around Holly’s waist. They began to sway to the beat as the rhythm throbbed in the air. Charlie felt Holly slip her hand upwards until it rested on the back of his neck, causing his skin to tingle and a shiver to run down his spine. He drew her closer to him until their hips were almost touching and his hand was resting in the small of her back.

  He looked down and saw the top of Holly’s head, and as she lay her cheek on his shoulder, nestling closer and closer, he was assailed by a memory, long lost and almost forgotten, of two people on the cusp of adulthood. On the cusp of… something. Of swaying together in a nightclub in Leicester Square as other people danced and pressed in around them until they were far closer together than they’d intended to be. Of a throbbing R&B beat and a drink or two to lower the inhibitions, a face upturned to his, and a gentle, feather-light kiss on the lips that promised so much but never had the opportunity to be delivered. The shiver down his spine, the breath that he’d unconsciously been holding, the sudden, sharp pinprick of desire. And then he knew.

  ‘It’s you…’ he breathed, as the memories of a strawberry-blonde bob, a sexy yet conventional black velvet evening dress and a smattering of freckles across the bridge of a longish nose came back to him. And the feeling of a pair of demurely painted pink lips brushing his in a kiss that was more nerves than passion.

  ‘It’s me…’ Holly replied softly as she drew closer to Charlie. ‘And it’s you. Lovely Charlie from Leeds University, who made me feel safe in London.’

  Although his eyes had closed in anticipation of the kiss, Charlie could sense how close Holly’s lips were to his, and he felt his body responding immediately, as it had done fifteen years ago when she’d been in his arms in the nightclub. Back then, he’d been achingly self-conscious about his near instant hard-on; he’d sensed how reticent she was, how both of them weren’t ready for anything other than a kiss and a moonlit walk, despite what his body was screaming at him. Now, as the blood surged to his cock and he felt that familiar ache of lust and longing, all he had to do was dip his head for his mouth to reach hers. Time and experience had taught him that to betray a response wasn’t always a bad thing; that it could, in fact, be a very good thing. And something was telling him that this time Holly wouldn’t be the nervous girl he remembered. It was her, then. The one who wasn’t even there long enough to get away. Life, and coincidence, had thrown her into his path and taken her away. But now they were here, together again. How had he not realised before? He was determined that nothing would get in the way now.

  The kiss, fifteen years in the making, was as sweet for the waiting as he’d wished it could have been back then. Back then he’d wanted so desperately to find the words to get to know her better, to kiss her again, for longer, but there was no time. As the pressure of their lips gave way to open mouths and exploring tongues, Charlie ached.

  Eventually, they broke apart.

  ‘You were going to show me something?’ Charlie asked, when his brain had begun to engage again.

  Holly laughed breathlessly. ‘You’ll never believe how dorky we looked back then.’ She pulled the photographs from the pocket of her jeans with a smirk. ‘I mean, it’s no wonder we both didn’t recognise each other, really.’

  Charlie glanced at the first photograph and gave a snort of laughter. ‘Thank God I ditched those glasses and got contact lenses. I don’t know why I ever thought they suited me.’ His brow furrowed. ‘And that side parting is hell. Not to mention that godawful blazer and tie.’ Embarrassed at just how gangly and awkward he looked in the candid snap, taken a decade and a half ago, he felt his stomach clenching and his cheeks burning, a complete antidote to the fiery passion that had been building a moment ago. ‘I honestly don’t remember you taking that picture at the Tube station though. We must have been really drunk – or really tired!’

  ‘Give yourself a break,’ Holly said. ‘You haven’t seen the one of me, yet.’ She passed him the other photo and Charlie had to suppress another grin. ‘You looked very, er, lovely.’

  ‘Give it a rest,’ Holly murmured. ‘That skirt length was about ten years too old for me and bobs went out in the early nineties, unless you suited a Rachel cut. I was about the most sensible girl in the world. Hence my interest in party politics, I suppose.’

  ‘Well, I remember you now,’ Charlie said, a husky note in his voice. ‘And, if it’s all the same to you, I’d like to make up for lost time. Fifteen years of lost time, in fact. So, will you dance with me, and kiss me again, and maybe allow me to do a little more than just hold your hand?’

  Holly smiled. ‘I’d like that. I’d like that very, very much, Lovely Charlie.’

  As their lips met again, Charlie felt his defences begin to come down. He spent so much of his life taking steps to be seen to be doing the right thing, saying the right thing, that to be alone, in this room, with Holly now was a feeling so powerful, he felt himself losing his breath. Fifteen years ago, their paths had crossed so briefly that it hadn’t warranted further exploration, even though he’d never really forgotten that night, that girl. Despite not having recognised her again until now, he did have some sense that he’d kept the memory with him. Who knows what would have happened if the two of them hadn’t been those awkward teenagers in that terribly conventional setting, part of a world that was too old for them, wearing clothes that were too old for them. But now, they’d rediscovered each other, and Charlie wanted to seize the moment.

  The kisses grew deeper, and as Charlie felt Holly’s warm hand raking through his hair, the back of his neck been to tingle. Drawing her closer to him, feeling that quick, white heat of arousal, her body against his felt instinctively right. There was so much he wanted to say, so much he wanted to do. Her lips were warm, and soft, her mouth sweet-tasting. Charlie had the sensation, right then, that he’d come home.

  The insistent ring of Holly’s mobile on the kitchen counter brought them both out of the moment. Holly, regretfully, broke free from Charlie and, with an apologetic smile, wandered on unsteady legs to answer it.

  ‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘I keep the phone on because Harry’s having a bit of a tricky spell at the moment.’

  ‘No problem,’ Charlie said. He finally sat down on the sofa, but, realising that his suit trousers left very little about his arousal to the imagination (not that Holly could have failed to notice when she was in his arms and pressed against him), he grabbed his wine glass again and rested it in his lap. The cool glass took the edge off things a little bit.

  ‘OK… No, that’s fine… I’ll drop it over to you as soon as I can… No, don’t worry.’ Holly threw an apologe
tic glance in Charlie’s direction. ‘I’ll see you in a bit.’ Tapping to end the call, Holly wandered back to the sofa. ‘I’m really sorry,’ she began. ‘I’ve got to dash out and pick up some Creon granules from the late-night chemist in Stavenham for Harry. Mum and Dad are away visiting friends in Bristol tonight and Harry’s been quite poorly.’ She smiled regretfully. ‘He needs it to help him digest his food properly, so it’s kind of an essential. I’m not sure what time I’ll be back here. Can we, you know, pick this up another time?’

  Charlie, stung with disappointment, but knowing there was little else to be done, smiled back. ‘Of course.’ He drew her to him as they both stood up. ‘You’ve given me a lot to think about, Holly Renton.’

  Holly laughed nervously. ‘In a good way, I hope!’

  ‘Definitely.’ Charlie dipped his head and kissed Holly lingeringly on the lips. ‘This is the kind of kiss I desperately wanted to give you, all those years ago on that dance floor. But I was so scared you’d run away. You looked absolutely terrified when we did actually kiss.’

  ‘I was,’ Holly admitted. ‘I’d only had one serious boyfriend when I met you, and I guess that’s why I was so nervous that night.’

  ‘You looked so gorgeous. I can’t believe I didn’t realise it was you.’

  ‘I look a whole lot different now,’ Holly smiled as they broke apart. ‘And so do you, Lovely Charlie.’

  ‘Still gorgeous, though,’ Charlie stroked a stray tendril of hair back from Holly’s face. ‘I’ve got a hectic weekend coming up,’ he said. ‘A couple of events and a whole pile of paperwork to get my head around. But we need to continue this conversation. Will you text me if you get a moment? Perhaps we can meet before I head off to Westminster again.’

  ‘I’d like that,’ Holly murmured. ‘And I’m sorry it can’t be now.’

  ‘Me too.’ Charlie pulled her close again and felt another surge of heat. ‘But we will find the time, I promise.’

  Kissing her deeply, one last time, he headed towards her front door. Although his body was tingling from their contact, his mind felt free of the niggling, nagging feeling he’d had since he’d met her again. His discomfiture suddenly all made sense. With a surge of excitement that his adolescent self would have been proud of, he headed off home, determined to see Holly again before the weekend was out.

  18

  ‘I’m sorry to drag you over here on a Friday night,’ Rachel said as she flipped the kettle on in the kitchen. ‘I honestly thought I had all bases covered, but then I realised I was completely out of Creon, and Harry’s been so low lately, I just didn’t dare risk not giving it to him, even for one night.’

  Holly felt a stab of sympathy for her sister. Rachel looked preternaturally tired, more than the usual tiredness that came from looking after a young child, especially one with Harry’s condition. Although she worked in Holly’s shop a couple of shifts a week, the added stress of looking after Harry when he had one of his wobbles was obviously taking its toll on her. Despite the fact that her sister had got into a brilliant routine over the years, ensuring Harry took his medication like clockwork, like any parent, she had her good and bad days. Being a lone parent was an added strain, although she dealt with it in the same calm, efficient way she handled everything in her life. Holly was constantly in awe.

  ‘It’s fine, sis, don’t worry about it. I wasn’t, er, busy.’ Holly felt her cheeks start to burn as she remembered just what she’d been doing about an hour ago, before Rachel’s call.

  ‘Are you sure I didn’t drag you away from anything?’ Rachel said. ‘Weren’t you supposed to be seeing the Honourable Charlie tonight?’

  ‘Well, yeah,’ Holly admitted. ‘In fact, you caught us in the middle of, well, not exactly that, but…’

  Rachel, tired as she appeared, perked up instantly. ‘Oh yes? Do tell!’

  ‘Nothing to tell,’ Holly said quickly. ‘Except…’

  ‘What? Spill!’

  Holly giggled in a most un-Holly-like way. ‘He’s rather a good kisser.’

  Rachel squealed, then, remembering that Harry had only just got off to sleep, clapped a hand over her mouth. ‘Well, it’s about time.’ She gave Holly a playful nudge on the arm. ‘Let me make this tea and you can tell me all about it.’

  Holly found herself giggling again. ‘What are we, fifteen? Do I have to give you all the gory details?’

  ‘Absolutely,’ Rachel said firmly. ‘It’s just a shame I dragged you away from him before things got really interesting.’

  Holly rolled her eyes. ‘Well, I was right about one thing,’ she said. ‘He can kiss like no one I’ve ever kissed before. Makes me kind of wish I’d been braver back when we’d first met.’ She sighed. ‘Who knows what might have happened.’

  ‘Oh, come on!’ Rachel said. ‘You were so flipping square back then; you’d have been terrified if he’d put any moves on you. Probably best nothing more serious than kissing happened.’

  She passed Holly her mug of tea and they wandered through to the living room, which was still scattered with Harry’s favourite toys. What a contrast, Holly thought, to the nursery medical cabinet upstairs with its wide variety of suspensions, nebulisers and medicines that Harry was, even at age three, so proficient at taking. The little red tractor and its toy farmer that Holly had bought him for his third birthday took pride of place in the middle of the living room floor and Holly stepped around it carefully.

  ‘I wasn’t that much of a nerd,’ Holly insisted, but she knew that Rachel was probably right. All the years she’d spent studying English Literature at university, all the passionate poems, plays and novels she’d read, and it wasn’t until quite a while later she’d let herself feel the heat she’d spent so much time reading about.

  ‘You totally were,’ Rachel settled herself on the sofa. ‘But that’s ancient history. What did he say, once he twigged that the sexy owner of the local well-being shop was that girl from all those years ago? Did he remember you?’

  Holly drew a deep breath. ‘Well, he reckons he does,’ she said. ‘Although I did rather ambush him in the end with the music, and then the photos, so he probably thinks I’m some madwoman, too.’ She furrowed her brow. ‘Perhaps it was a bit of overkill really. What if he thinks I’ve been holding out for him all this time and I’m some kind of weird stalker?’ Suddenly, dashing away from Charlie before they’d had a chance to talk seemed like a really daft idea. It was like London all over again. Back then, they’d only had a few hours, and afterwards they’d never seen each other again. What if they were destined never to really connect? To be ships that just passed in the night?

  ‘Oh chill out, sis!’ Rachel countered, sipping her tea. ‘You’re both grown adults. Charlie only has to look at you to see you haven’t spent the last fifteen years pining for him, and if he really needs more proof, you can always whip out the pictures of you and Andrew that are on your Facebook page as proof you’re not some heartbroken damsel. That ought to show him you’ve gone out and got a life in the meantime.’

  ‘Do you think I’m overthinking things again?’ Holly asked, although she already knew the answer.

  ‘Of course you are!’ Rachel said. ‘And that was the whole reason you opened up the shop, wasn’t it? To give yourself some quality time and a chance to fulfil your ambitions. To give yourself the thinking space you needed in a proper, legitimate way. We both know what happens when the darkness takes over; the damage it can do.’ Both had seen their father’s anxiety affect his life and theirs over the years, and both had felt it encroaching on them, too, from time to time. The secret was finding the right coping strategy to make life liveable. Holly had her shop, and Rachel now had the goal of getting the right treatment for Harry. It was ironic that, for Rachel, her coping mechanism had come out of the thing that caused her the most anxiety.

  ‘I think we’ve got a bit more talking to do, anyway,’ Holly mused.

  ‘Talking, yeah right! Snogging more like.’ Rachel snorted. ‘And a fair bit of c
atching up to do. “Oh, Charlie, show me your honourable member!”’

  ‘Oh, bog off,’ Holly laughed. ‘We just kissed.’

  ‘Yeah, no thanks to me and Harry,’ Rachel said. ‘That’s twice you’ve been cock-blocked by your own nephew. Hopefully it’ll be third time lucky.’

  ‘I’ll keep you posted,’ Holly smiled. ‘If you’re lucky.’

  ‘Oh, come on, you have to fuel the fantasies of a knackered single mother somehow,’ Rachel said. She fell silent as the baby monitor crackled into life, but it was only Harry turning over in his sleep. Visibly relaxing, she smiled. ‘Thanks for getting the Creon for me, though. I would have called Mum, but they’re not back home until tomorrow.’

  ‘It’s fine, honestly,’ Holly replied. ‘And perhaps it’ll give Charlie time to process everything. After all, I’ve had a few weeks to get my head around it!’

  ‘It’s not like you had some great love affair,’ Rachel said. ‘It was a few hours in a club in London. Not that much to have to process.’

  ‘True, in one sense,’ Holly acknowledged. ‘But the coincidence of it? Him rocking up as the local MP? A believer in fate, destiny and a greater power might say it was written in the stars.’

  Rachel grinned. ‘You might be a believer in all that mystical rubbish, but I’m rather more pragmatic, as you know. But if it makes you feel better about snogging the local MP, who isn’t exactly your soulmate, politically speaking, then you go for it.’

  Holly groaned. ‘I was wondering when you were going to get to that. I can’t imagine the kind of discussions we’re likely to have around the dinner table. If we ever get as far as dinner, that is!’

  ‘You both behaved yourselves at Sunday lunch last weekend,’ Rachel said. ‘Although, since you hadn’t snogged each other at that point, perhaps neither of you wanted to argue about politics.’