Charlie (36 page)

‘We’re safe now,’ Andrew said as they reached the dingy top floor. ‘She hardly ever comes up here.’

‘But how will I get out this evening?’ Charlie asked nervously.

‘That will be a doddle.’ Andrew grinned as he opened his door. ‘Carol always opens up alone at six. You can easily slip out through the back door to the car park, she can’t see that from the bar.’

His tiny attic room was exactly as Charlie had expected – strewn with books, records, clothes and dirty cups, the narrow bed unmade. One wall was almost completely covered in an
Easy Rider
poster.

‘Sorry about the mess.’ Andrew hastily snatched up a dirty shirt and a pair of socks, and pulled up the covers on the bed. ‘Go and look out the window while I get this straight. I may live in a pigsty but the view makes up for it.’

Charlie did as he said. The view was superb, right across the Heath down to the Ponds in the distance. The heavy rain and the absence of people gave it a stark beauty. Each tree was swaying gracefully, the varied shades of green more vivid with the dark grey sky as a backdrop.

Andrew crept up behind her and slid his hands around her waist, leaning his chin on her shoulder. ‘You should see it at sunrise,’ he said. ‘Sometimes the sky is pink and mauve, and the sun’s rays are orange. Someone told me that it’s more spectacular in London than anywhere else because of all the pollution and gases in the air. I don’t know if that’s strictly true, but whatever causes it, it’s magic.’

‘How come you’re up at sunrise?’ she asked.

‘I’m an odd sort of chap,’ he laughed. ‘I always wake up then. Sometimes I do some studying, but mostly I make myself a cup of tea, look at the view for a while, then go back to bed to dream about you.’

‘You don’t,’ she scoffed.

‘Well, I don’t always make a cup of tea,’ he said with laughter in his voice. ‘But I do spend a great deal of time dreaming about you, especially about being
alone
with you.’

‘So what do you imagine?’ she asked, a tremor of excitement running down her spine. Ever since she’d been to a clinic and got herself on the Pill, she’d thought of little else but making love. Every kiss, every touch made her ache for more, yet she’d been nervous of admitting her feelings in case he didn’t feel the same way.

‘Lying on the bed with you,’ he murmured as he kissed her neck. ‘Slowly undressing you, the feel of your skin under my hands.’

Charlie turned in his arms to kiss him and as his lips met hers she ran her hands down over his back to his buttocks, and drew him closer still. Andrew was a wonderful kisser, his tongue and lips so sensual that she had often found herself aroused even in crowded public places. But now, alone, knowing there was nothing and no one to stop them, she pressed her groin against his and delighted in feeling his erection.

One of his hands crept down to the crotch of her jeans, his fingers tracing the two small mounds inside. She ached for him to unzip her, to thrust his fingers right inside her, instead of just teasing her.

He moved back a little and with a lazy, sexy smirk he slowly and deliberately unbuttoned her shirt and peeled it off. ‘No bra!’ he whispered, raising one eyebrow. ‘Why’s that? To make it easier for me to touch you?’

Charlie nodded, she was both embarrassed and excited that he’d understood her motives. She held her breath, wanting his hands to caress her breasts, yet all he was doing was looking at them like a schoolboy.

‘Do it then!’ she said, taking a step nearer him, so her nipples brushed against his shirt. His two hands moved to cup her small breasts, he rubbed the nipples with his thumbs, but there was suddenly an almost fearful look in his eyes.

‘I want you so much, Charlie,’ he whispered. ‘I’ve thought about nothing else but an opportunity like this. But I didn’t expect it to happen today, and I’m a bit scared I might not be able to stop.’

Charlie frowned in puzzlement. ‘Why do we have to stop?’ she asked.

‘I wouldn’t want you to get pregnant,’ he blurted out, blushing furiously. ‘And I never thought to get anything.’

All at once she realized he wasn’t as experienced as she’d imagined. Because almost everyone she’d met since coming to London slept around, she had just assumed he must have made love to other girls. Judging by his embarrassment he might even be a virgin, and he probably thought she was too.

‘I want you too, Andrew,’ she whispered back, undoing his shirt buttons and sliding her hands over his smooth bare chest. ‘I have ever since our first date. But I won’t get pregnant, because I went to a clinic and got myself on the Pill. I knew it would happen before long.’

He looked stunned for a second, then slowly a wide smile crept across his face. He cupped her face in his hands, his bright eyes searching hers for any lingering doubt. ‘Really?’

‘Yes, really,’ she giggled. ‘Rita gave me a lecture about “being prepared”. I wanted to tell you before but I was too shy.’

He pulled her into his arms, kissing her with such passion she knew they had passed the point of awkward questions, or even considering what might happen if Carol discovered she was up here in his room.

It felt like it was her first time, eager, fearful and embarrassed all at once. She wished too she’d worn something more suitable for seduction. Her jeans were so tight, and she was certain they would leave red marks all over her. She didn’t think to remove her plimsolls first, and almost fell over when they caught in the legs of her jeans. Andrew was panting with eagerness as he stripped off his clothes, and he dived into bed, then lay there gazing at her as she bent awkwardly to take off her shoes wearing nothing but her knickers.

‘I should have put some music on and undressed you myself,’ he whispered, reaching out for her hand and drawing her back towards him. ‘That’s what they do in films, and I wanted it to be perfect.’

Charlie didn’t reply, just slid into the narrow bed, but the moment he enfolded her in his arms and pulled the covers right up to their necks, suddenly it felt so right. The rain was splattering against the window pane, from somewhere along the corridor soft music was playing, and his warm, silky body felt so good against hers.

‘I’ve done this in my dreams a thousand times,’ he murmured as he caressed her. ‘I can’t believe I’m really touching you at last.’

His touch was delicate and hesitant as if he was afraid of hurting her, and that consideration for her feelings made her more excited than Guy with his thrusting demands had ever achieved. His whole body was throbbing with desire, his erection was rock-hard against her thigh, but still he held back until she was fully aroused.

When he did finally enter her, it was over too quickly, yet she felt no real sense of disappointment. ‘I love you, Charlie,’ he murmured into her neck. ‘I never knew it would be so wonderful.’

She remembered then how when Guy had said he loved her she’d felt compelled to cross-examine him. She didn’t feel that way with Andrew, her whole being knew he would never make such a statement unless he truly meant it.

‘I love you too,’ she whispered, holding him tightly and covering his face with kisses.

He was so sweet, half covering his blushing face with the blanket as he apologized for being so quick. ‘It doesn’t matter,’ she assured him, thinking how lovely it was to have a man who could admit he wasn’t perfect, rather than one like Guy who had to spoil it all by saying he was ‘better after a few drinks’. ‘We’ll both get better with practice.’

She had thought she’d known Andrew so well that nothing about him could surprise her. Yet she had never seen his face so soft with tenderness before, never noticed how his lips curled at the corners as though in a permanent smile, the full length and thickness of his dark lashes or the way his ears fitted so snugly to his head.

Love welled up inside her as he held her in his arms whispering endearments to her. This was the man who had steadfastly stuck by her through tragedy, been her friend, her solace. Nothing had ever felt so right and beautiful, it was as perfect as the view of the sea on a summer’s day, as serene as Exmoor under a blanket of snow, and as thrilling as sailing a racing dinghy in a gale. Outside on the Heath, the rain was still lashing down, but here they were in a little cocoon of their own making, warm, secure and so very happy.

They made love again later. This time it was slower, more sensual and experimental. She found that though Andrew might lack previous experience, his enthusiasm, a strong desire to please, along with a naturally sensual nature soon led him to find all the right places to caress. Under his sensitive and loving fingers she came to a shuddering climax even before he entered her again.

They must have fallen asleep in each other’s arms, because all too soon it was half past six and Andrew said he had to get ready for work at seven.

‘I can’t bear to go home,’ she said sleepily, pulling him closer to her. ‘I’m much too snug and warm.’

‘You have to,’ he insisted, kissing her shoulders. ‘Carol wouldn’t like a stowaway in her tight ship.’

Charlie knew she must go, but it seemed so cruel after such a blissful afternoon. It was Saturday night, the other girls would be getting ready to go out; unless she went with them, she’d be alone.

‘Will you come round after work then?’ she asked. ‘If we get into bed before Anne gets in, she’ll sleep in the living room. I don’t think I could get through the night without you.’

He kissed her tenderly, his blue eyes filled with the same yearning she felt. ‘Nor me. I’ll be watching the clock all evening. Let’s hope it’s a quiet night and I can get away early.’

*

Charlie didn’t attempt to get a bus home, but walked instead. The rain had stopped while they were in bed and the Heath smelt fresh and clean. The sadness at leaving Andrew lifted as she walked, replaced by a feeling of joy that she was loved, and excitement for the future. London was a thrilling place, there was still so much more of it to explore with Andrew, maybe in September they could share a house with his friends, and they could spend every night together.

‘What have you been doing today?’ Meg asked as Charlie came in. Meg was sitting on one of the mattresses in the living room, rolling a joint; she looked ready to go out, in a long black dress. ‘By the look of you I’d say you got laid!’

Charlie blushed. Meg was one for incisive remarks, and she made them regardless of who was listening. In the three weeks Charlie had been living here she’d been continually embarrassed by Meg. She liked her, admired her forthright manner and often wished she could learn to be so direct and sophisticated, yet it still made her squirm sometimes. Fortunately this time they were alone, Beth and Anne were in their bedrooms, and Charlie thought it might be a good opportunity to have a quiet chat.

‘Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t,’ she giggled.

‘Come and sit down and share this with me,’ Meg waved the joint, ‘and you can tell me all about it.’

So far, Charlie had resisted all the girl’s attempts to get her to try some cannabis. It wasn’t that she disapproved, everyone young seemed to be trying it, but Sylvia’s incessant smoking had put her off cigarettes, and cannabis had to be mixed with tobacco. But now, feeling happy after her lovely afternoon and the invigorating long walk home, she was prepared to try, if only to get to know Meg better.

‘I’ll give it a whirl,’ she agreed, sitting down. ‘Just don’t laugh at me if I cough my lungs up.’

She took a few draws, coughed and handed it back. ‘What’s it supposed to do?’ she asked. ‘I don’t feel any different.’

‘It’s a subtle buzz,’ Meg said airily, tucking her legs into the Lotus position. She drew heavily on the joint. ‘It doesn’t hit you like three or four drinks, it just makes you mellow, softens the edges of everything. Now come on, tell me what’s been going on today.’

Charlie leaned back on a cushion, she didn’t know if it was the dope working or the after-effects of love-making, because normally she would run a mile from talking about intimate things. ‘Andrew smuggled me up to his room,’ she admitted. ‘And we made love for the first time. He’s coming back here tonight too. So would you hint to Anne that I’d like the bedroom to myself?’

‘Right on!’ Meg said jubilantly. ‘Anything to further the path of true love.’ She took several more draws on the joint and handed it back. ‘You finish it,’ she said with a grin. ‘And as we’re going to a party I’ll roll you up a couple to share with Andrew when he gets here. That’s when this stuff really comes into its own, it makes sex magic.’

As Meg rolled up a couple of very professional-looking joints, she talked non-stop about the man she’d slept with the previous night. ‘He’s got the biggest cock I ever saw,’ she exclaimed. ‘It was like a barber’s pole. I could hardly walk this morning.’

Without drawing breath she went on to describe graphically the sex session she’d had with him including oral sex. Charlie blushed from her hair-line down to her toes; she was deeply shocked, and worse still, she was afraid she was expected to reciprocate with her experiences.

Anne came into the living room. She too was dressed to go out, in the same embroidered long black dress she’d worn on their first night out together, but her hair was still in rollers. She grinned at Charlie. ‘Meg’s not boring you with all that stuff too?’ she said. ‘You’d think a girl who had as much sex as her would be bored with talking about it, wouldn’t you? Could you come in here a moment, Charlie? I wanted to ask if I could borrow something.’

Charlie excused herself and followed Anne. Once in the bedroom Anne closed the door. ‘I didn’t really want anything,’ she said in a whisper. ‘I heard what she was saying to you and I thought you needed rescuing. You see, she used to bang on like that to me when I first moved in here. I wanted to curl up and die sometimes.’

‘It was a bit strong.’ Charlie was hesitant about saying anything which might make the girls think she was a prude. So far her involvement with Andrew had given her the perfect excuse to remain uninvolved with the other girls’ private lives, yet she was aware, too, that this might lead to her being alienated.

‘She’s a weirdo sometimes,’ Anne said with a shrug of her shoulders. Her dark eyes flashed with indignation. ‘She gets a kick out of talking dirty. Don’t you ever tell her anything about Andrew, if it’s something bad she’ll embarrass him with it. If it’s good she’ll be on to him like a rat up a drainpipe. I’ve lost two nice boyfriends that way.’