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Authors: Lesley Pearse

BOOK: Charity
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Charity stamped down the stairs, switched off the record player and turned to face the stunned crowd.

‘It’s over. Time to go home,’ she shouted. ‘Go now or I’ll call the police!’

‘Who on earth is that?’ A girl in a tight red dress with the straps hanging off her shoulders leaned on Hugh provocatively.

‘The maid,’ Hugh said, bursting into laughter.

If Rob hadn’t chosen that moment to be violently sick right across the floor, splattering everyone within a three-yard range, Charity might have reached Hugh and slapped his face. But Charlotte did up the buttons on her blouse, another couple of girls ran to the door holding out stained dresses and Charity knew this would finish the party.

‘Go.’ Charity pointed a finger towards the door. Rob was beyond help: he lay green-faced and groaning and the last few men edged away in disgust.

Once a few made their way out, the exodus began in earnest. She heard plaintive cries about how far away their homes were, but would have none of it.

‘No one is staying,’ she insisted. ‘Go!’

Anger made her stronger as she stepped through broken glasses and bottles. She stamped upstairs again, pulled back the covers from the couple in her bed and ordered them out too.

‘Don’t be like this.’ Hugh tried to put his arms round her as she finally shut the front door when everyone had gone. ‘I love you.’

‘You don’t love anyone but yourself,’ she said as she flounced away. ‘And as soon as it’s light I’m going back to the school.’

It was just after seven when Charity came downstairs again. She had locked herself in Rob’s room intending to wait until the sun came out, but she’d dropped off to sleep despite her anger. Hugh had slunk into her bed and through the open door she could see Rob in beside him.

But as she paused in the filthy kitchen her resolve vanished. The boys would never be able to clean the cottage properly and she had visions of the little cleaning lady being asked to tackle it.

Rob appeared first, around ten, holding his head and groaning. Even through his drunken stupor he’d known how wild the party was, and how badly he’d behaved. He had woken some time ago but had been afraid to view the damage. Now, miraculously, every trace of the party had vanished. The windows were open, a smell of cleaning fluid taking the place of beer and cigarettes. He noted a couple of small burns in the carpet and the dampness which showed that Charity had scrubbed it, but it was as clean and fresh as it had been on their arrival.

‘I’m so sorry,’ he whispered. He could see marks of tears on her cheeks and remembered only too well how insulting Hugh had been the night before in the bar. ‘You shouldn’t have cleaned it up.’

‘You couldn’t have coped,’ she said tartly. ‘I didn’t do it for you two anyway, but for your mother and the cleaning lady.’

Rob slunk away. He was ashamed for getting drunk and inviting people back, but even more of his feelings for Charity. Hugh was his best friend, but all Rob could think of was his girl.

He went outside, walking aimlessly down the lane. He could never compete with Hugh: not at sport, in company or in looks. He certainly had no chance of getting Charity!

Charity didn’t really understand why she couldn’t bring herself to go back to the school. She refused to speak to Hugh when he staggered down the stairs smelling of stale beer and went out into the back garden to sunbathe.

She fell asleep, waking later to hear someone crushing tins around the side of the cottage. Then she heard Hugh’s voice and guessed that the pair of them were trying to make the mountain of empties less obvious.

‘You shouldn’t have called her Miss Chip Pan, it must have been so humiliating.’

Charity pricked up her ears.

‘It was just a joke. I didn’t mean to be cruel,’ Hugh replied.

‘You did, you were showing off,’ Rob insisted. ‘You don’t deserve someone as nice as her. Now take her some tea and apologise. I’m going out on my bike.’

Charity pretended to be asleep as Hugh approached her. It was the first cup of tea he’d ever made and she was surprised he knew how to do it.

‘I’m sorry, Charlie,’ he said, using the pet name to soften her up. ‘I was thoughtless, but I thought you’d just laugh it off.’

She turned over on to her back and sat up, taking the tea from him. A few minutes ago she’d been determined to make him grovel a bit, but seeing his face so strained and apologetic, dark blue eyes soft with remorse, her resolve left her. Besides, he looked so beautiful in only a pair of shorts, his chest golden and hard. Maybe he’d learned his lesson now.

‘Don’t ever do that to me again,’ she implored him. ‘I can’t bear it.’

He lay down on the rug and slipped his arms around her. He smelt of soap now, his face smooth and golden again.

‘I love you so much,’ he whispered. ‘I want us to be together for ever. Let’s start all over again.’

His kisses had new tenderness, and knowing Rob had gone out made Charity respond as never before. Hugh’s body fitted against her so perfectly, the softness of his lips and the sensuality of his tongue made her belly contract and her breasts throb. She had never allowed him to go further than kissing before but as his fingers crept up under her loose blouse she found herself powerless to stop him.

‘I love you,’ he whispered as he cupped her small breast in his hand. ‘You feel so wonderful.’

As he stroked her nipples Charity forgot how cross she’d been. She moved into a timeless, beautiful world where only his lips on hers mattered, the sensation of holding and being held, lost in love.

He unbuttoned her blouse, moving down to kiss her breasts and his hard young body pressed closer still to hers. His breath fiery and heavy on her nipples and the feel of his skin against hers sent her into a state of abandonment. Every caress seemed to move her closer to something more and though several times she made an effort to move away, he drew her back with more kisses.

Slowly his hand crept up her leg and now it was she who was quivering with desire, pulling him closer still as his tongue licked at her nipples.

The hard lump in his shorts frightened her. One moment she was lost in the bliss of petting, then he moved and she felt it.

‘That’s enough.’ She struggled to get free. ‘Rob will be back any minute!’

Hugh leaned back from her, the lower half of his body still pinning her to the ground. His eyes looked soft and sleepy, lips very red from kissing.

‘He’s not coming back for a while,’ he said softly, one hand still on her breast. ‘Let me love you, Charlie?’

The tenderness in his face was almost enough to sway her, but a glance down brought back the fear she thought was forgotten.

His penis was peeping over the top of his shorts, red tipped and shiny.

‘No.’ Her voice was a croak of alarm and she wriggled out from under him in alarm. ‘It’s not right.’

‘But it is,’ he insisted, lying on his stomach and leaning up on his elbows. ‘It is when you love someone.’

Charity pulled her knees up against her chest and hugged them tightly, dropping her head down so she couldn’t see him. She felt him move and then his hand come down on her shoulder.

‘I wasn’t going to force you,’ he said quietly behind her. ‘I only wanted to show how much I love you, that’s all. If you really cared for me, you’d want to too.’

Chapter Nine

‘It’s hot.’ Hugh was sitting on the doorstep in the sunshine. He wore only an old pair of shorts and his feet were bare. ‘We should have got up early and got the train to Brighton.’

‘We could take a picnic somewhere,’ Charity suggested. It was hard to tell if Hugh’s quietness this morning was disappointment because Rob had gone to see his grandmother, or if he was still brooding about yesterday’s events.

To her surprise his face broke into a wide smile.

‘I know where we could go –’ he took a couple of steps towards her and reached out to hug her. ‘It’s quite a long ride but it’s lovely. Put some shorts on.’

‘I thought you were cross with me,’ she said, burying her head against his shoulder. Last night he’d come up to her bedroom and he’d been sullen when she sent him away.

‘How can I be?’ He stroked her hair tenderly and lifted her face up to kiss her. ‘I get mad because you don’t trust me, but I still like you.’

‘How much further is it?’ Charity staggered up the hill pushing her bike, red in the face and so hot she felt she might collapse.

‘Only a little way.’ Hugh grabbed her bike and pushed both up the last bit of the hill. ‘It will be easier going home, it’s all downhill.’

The last cottage they passed was at least a mile back and this lane was so narrow and steep Charity felt they must be going to the top of the world.

‘Here we are.’ Hugh steered them towards a stile and footpath. ‘I’ll just hump the bikes over and we’ll leave them there and walk the rest of the way.’

Hugh took the bag with the picnic and the blanket. The path led them along the edge of a wheatfield which sloped steeply on their left down to a thatched cottage at the bottom.

‘Isn’t it gorgeous!’ Charity stopped to look at the view. From the golden wheat in front of them to a thick wood on the horizon, the fields stretched for miles like a vast patchwork quilt, golden, green and brown. There was a little church with a square tower far away on their right, surrounded by a clutch of cottages, but only birdsong and the buzzing of insects broke the silence.

‘Not as gorgeous as you.’ Hugh slumped down on the path and just looked at her.

She stood with one hand shielding her eyes: slender legs tanned a golden brown, her bottom small and taut in faded blue outgrown shorts of Rob’s and a white sleeveless blouse. Small pert breasts pushed out the front of her top, and her hair, bleached white by the sun, shimmered over her slim shoulders. But it was her profile he studied, struck by its perfection. Her skin was the colour of honey, a sprinkling of freckles across the bridge of her small nose. Lips pink and pouty, eyebrows a feathering of gold above such beautiful blue eyes.

Last night he had lain awake for hours thinking about her. He wanted Charity so much it made him quiver inside. Yet as Rob had pointed out, there would be trouble if his parents found out about her.

‘I’m too thin to be gorgeous,’ Charity laughed as she turned back to him, her eyes dancing with delight. She bent over and kissed his forehead, her hair tickling his face.

Hugh caught hold of her waist, pulling her down into his arms, and they rolled together on the grassy path.

‘You’re slender, not thin,’ he reproved her, kissing her eyes, her nose and finally her mouth. ‘I thought you were pretty when I first saw you, but now you’re beautiful!’

He wasn’t going to let his parents throw a shadow over the day. Let them do and say what they liked. Now was the important thing, not next month or even tomorrow.

The path led to another stile, then on down another hill, but Hugh lifted a barbed-wire fence for Charity to crawl under and they made their way upwards through long grass towards a small wood.

‘Not much further now.’ He took her hand and smiled encouragingly.

‘This place had better be worth it!’ She was panting and beads of perspiration were running down her forehead. ‘Are you sure you aren’t lost?’

‘Do I look lost?’ he said as they walked down towards a wood nestling in a dip. ‘You just be patient.’

A wire fence surrounded the wood and Hugh stopped at a place where it was broken and climbed over, holding out his arms for Charity.

‘Almost there,’ he grinned wickedly. ‘But the wood’s thicker than I remembered. Just follow me.’

He pushed through the trees, holding back branches for her to follow. It was much cooler now in the shade and it smelt of rotting leaves, but just as Charity was about to complain at branches and brambles scratching her, they came to a narrow path with logs set in it for steps.

‘Now close your eyes and don’t open them until I say.’

She giggled as he made her follow him, both hands on his waist, her eyes obediently shut. The path was steep and uneven under her sandals, and the smell of steamy vegetation was almost overpowering. She could hear a trickle of water somewhere to her right and leaves brushed against her legs and arms.

‘You can open them now.’ He stood still, taking her hand.

Charity opened her eyes and gasped in surprise.

‘Was it worth the long walk?’ Hugh asked.

She couldn’t speak: the beauty of the scene in front of her brought a lump to her throat. The steep path had brought them to a grassy glade, hemmed in by thick bushes. In front of them was a pond, its surface almost entirely covered in water lilies, with thick waxy white flowers. On the other side stood a small hut with a tiled roof and a wooden landing stage. Purple clematis climbed up over it, mingling with jasmine.

‘Oh Hugh! Who does it belong to?’ Charity said in hushed tones. Clematis and jasmine didn’t grow wild and there were foxgloves and tall fiery red plants which suggested cultivation. The trickle of water was from a tiny stream, running over big stones to fill the pond.

‘Some people Robert’s parents know,’ he said casually. ‘Their place is over the back.’ He pointed to his right. ‘But they’re old and they don’t come up here any longer.’

It was so peaceful. Birds sang in the bushes, dragon-flies hovered and darted about the water lilies and they saw a kingfisher swoop down, a flash of turquoise as he grabbed a small fish.

‘It’s like finding buried treasure.’ Charity was unable to find the right words to describe how the place made her feel. ‘I’m stunned.’

Closer inspection confirmed that it had been cultivated, for hidden amongst the bushes were a couple of cherub statues, old urns covered with weeds and even small terraces with dainty alpine flowers still managing to grow despite the choking weeds.

‘I wish we could tidy it up,’ Charity said and pulled a clump of bindweed from a little purple flower.

‘We didn’t come here to do other people’s gardening.’ Hugh sank down on to the grass. ‘Besides, part of its charm is that it’s a secret place. I like it just the way it is.’

‘But how big
is
their place if this is hidden away in it?’ she asked.

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