Guess Who I Pulled Last Night? (19 page)

“It doesn’t matter, let’s just put it down to too much
alcohol,” Charlotte sighed.

“Come on, I’ll give you a lift home, I’m going to see my
parents tonight, so I can bring you back tomorrow for your car.”  He
didn’t say anymore, but just ushered her out of her seat, towards the
door. 

As he started the car, Paul glanced at the hurt in
Charlotte’s face.  Whatever had gone on at lunch it wasn’t just down to
too much alcohol; he had known immediately that there was an attraction between
them, who wouldn’t?  The air was electric when they were together, and the
atmosphere was so intense no one would have guessed that there would be a
fiancée.  How could he have got it wrong, but the tears in Charlotte’s
tired eyes told him he had?        

It was Christmas morning and Kerry was sat upon the sofa,
watching Esme play with a box that one of her presents had come in.  She
was happily banging the lid with a wooden spoon.  Esme was always happy
Kerry thought.  The current situation didn’t seem to have affected her
daughter one little bit, but she and Kelvin; well that was a different matter.

“Kerry, could you lay the table for me please?”

Kerry smiled up at her mum; at least, things were getting
better in their relationship.  They’d stayed up late last night, talking
until the early hours, and at least Sheila now seemed to understand why Kerry
was being the way she was.  Kerry was also beginning to think that maybe
everyone had a point; she was suffering from some form of depression. 
She’d tried not to believe it before, but now she had promised to go and see a
doctor.  Kerry bent to kiss Esme and smiled tentatively at Kelvin, as he
sat in an armchair playing with the watch that she had bought for him for
Christmas; he glanced at her but didn’t smile back, putting his head down as
she walked past into the kitchen.

“Okay love?”  Sheila rubbed Kerry’s arm tenderly, as
she reached inside the kitchen drawer for the cutlery.

“He still won’t speak to me Mum. It's horrible, and we
usually have such a lovely Christmas.  I wanted it to be special for
Esme.”  Kerry wiped her eyes on the sleeve of her jumper, taking a deep
breath so as not to cry aloud.  “I know that I’m to blame, but I just
can’t help the way I feel at the moment.”  Kerry moved over to the dining
area and started to lay the table for the three of them plus Michael and Sarah,
her eldest brother and his wife, who were coming later.

“I’ll try to talk to him, see if I can get him to come home
at least.”

“Thanks Mum, at least if he’s home we can try to start to
sort things out.”  Kerry went over to her mother and kissed her gently on
the cheek, just as Kelvin came in holding a whimpering Esme.

“What’s the matter with her Kelvin?” Kerry rushed over to
them both, and softly touched her baby’s face.

“I’m not sure,” whispered Kelvin.  “She was okay one
minute and then just started to cry.  Although she’s been a little grouchy
for a couple of days now, hasn’t she Sheila?”  All the time Kelvin spoke
he didn’t look at Kerry, but at his daughter and finally, his mother-in-law.

“Come here, come to Mummy.”  Kerry took her child from
Kelvin’s arms and sat at the table.  “She feels a bit hot actually. I
think that I’ll give her some Calpol and put her down for a while.”

Kelvin stood aside to let her pass, as though if he touched
her in any way he would turn into a pillar of salt.  When he was sure that
Kerry was up the stairs, he shut the door leading out to the hallway.

“What has she said?” he asked, moving over towards
Sheila.  “I didn’t hear either of you come to bed until gone three this
morning, has she said whether she’s seeing anyone else?”  He twisted a tea
towel around in his hands anxiously.

Sheila sighed deeply.  “No, she’s not seeing anyone else.
She doesn’t want to, but you’d know that if you just talked to her.” 
Kelvin opened his mouth as if to speak, but Sheila carried on quickly. 
“Don’t say anything Kelvin, you know as well as I do you are the one who is
holding all the trump cards.  She asked you last week to go home for
Christmas, but you wouldn’t.  She isn’t going out as much now you
know?”  Kelvin shook his head.  “No, well that’s what happens when
you won’t even speak to her.  I’m not saying this because she’s my
daughter; you know I’ve supported you throughout all of this, which isn’t easy
when it’s your flesh and blood, but I think it’s time that you went home and
tried to sort things out.”  Sheila threw the knife into the sink and
leaned against it, with her head down and looking toward the floor below.

“I’m scared Sheila, what if things don’t change, then me
being here has been a waste of time?”  Kelvin now bent his head next to
Sheila’s.  “I couldn’t bear that,” he whispered.

Sheila stood upright.  “Well if you don’t go after New
Year, I’ll be kicking you out, then you’ll have to go home, because I’m sure
that you don’t want to go to your own mothers.”  She turned to him
speaking more kindly now.  “Kelvin love, think about what she’s gone
through over the last couple of years, her dad, the baby everything.” 
Sheila suddenly looked sad as she remembered losing Malcolm.

“I’m sorry Sheila; I know that this must be hard for you,
caught in the middle.  I promise that I’ll make an effort today and then
tomorrow I’ll think about what you’ve said.”  Kelvin smiled at her,
grateful for the support that she had given him.

Sheila nodded silently.  “Right, let’s get those
veggies on the go,” she said quickly, as Kerry came back into the room.

“H-h-how is she?”  Kelvin asked; the first sentence that
he put together for his wife in weeks.

Kerry, taken aback, smiled.  “She’s asleep, but she
wouldn’t go until I’d sung Blue Moon to her.”  They both laughed recalling
Charlotte’s method of getting Esme to sleep.

“Do you want a drink?”  Kelvin felt like a child on his
first date, rather than talking with the woman who had given birth to his
child.

“Can I have a diet coke please, is there anything that you
want me to do Mum?”  To hide her shyness, Kerry went over to her Mum at
the cooker.

“Oh it sounds like Michael is here. Could you let them in
for me?”  Sheila smiled at Kelvin, and mouthed the words “thank you,"
as Kerry went towards the door.

“Hello sis, how are you?  Merry Christmas.” 
Michael enveloped Kerry into a big bear hug, kissing her on the head.

Thank God for Michael, thought Kerry.  Michael was the
eldest of the four siblings, Kerry, being the youngest and only girl was his
favourite. No matter what she did as a child he always stuck up for her, and he
still did.  Although he felt for Kelvin, he could never let Kerry know
that he thought that she was in the wrong, she was his little sister, and he
would protect her at all times.

“Merry Christmas Michael, hello Sarah, Merry
Christmas.”  Kerry kissed them both, happy to see them.  “Mum is in
the kitchen, with Kelvin.”

“Where’s my beautiful niece then?” Sarah asked, her eyes
bright with expectancy.  Sarah couldn’t have children, and so she and
Michael doted on Esme.  Andrew and Steven, Kerry’s other brothers both had
boys, making Esme extra special.

“She’s asleep, sorry,” Kerry shrugged an apology.  “She
doesn’t seem too well, she explained.

“It's nothing serious though is it? Shall I check on her?”
Sarah asked.

“Don’t you ever stop working Nurse Taylor?” Kerry laughed at
her sister-in-law, giving her a gentle hug.

“Not where my little niece is concerned, no I don’t. 
Anyway,” she whispered, “how are things between you and Kelvin?”  She
cupped Kerry’s chin gently.

“Okay, not too bad at least we are talking a little
more.  And Mum has given me a good talking to.”  Kerry smiled.

Michael gave a huge grin.  “Oh dear, Mummy speaks,
anyway, where is the old darling?”

“I heard that Michael Taylor, you are not too big for a
smacked bottom.  Merry Christmas love and you too Sarah,” she said,
hugging them both tightly.

Kelvin who had stood back, now came forward in trepidation,
he knew how Mike and Sarah felt about Kerry and wasn’t sure what reception he
would get, even though it wasn’t his fault.  He needn’t have worried; he
got the same bear hug as Kerry, and so everyone relaxed and started to enjoy
the day.

Later, that day, over at the Price house, Bets was enjoying
Christmas day with Charlotte and all her family, strictly it was Kerry’s turn
to have her over, but under the circumstances, Bets thought that descending on
them with party hats and mince pies would be slightly tactless!  She felt
like a maiden aunt, passed from pillar to post every year, but at least she
didn’t have to eat a frozen turkey dinner with just Alfred for company. 
It was late afternoon and as usual, everyone had eaten too much, and was now
drinking equally as much, Charlotte in particular.  In fact, she hadn’t
stopped drinking since the Palmer Insurance Christmas party, that Bets had
accompanied her to on Saturday night.  She sat on the armchair, watching
Eastenders, hugging a large bottle of Lambrusco, a present to Bets from one of
her clients.  Bets looked at her sad little face and whispered to Tom, who
was sitting next to her on the sofa.

“She’s going to be sick, if she’s not careful.”

“She’s already lovesick,” he hissed.

“I’ve not seen her like this for ages,” whispered Kathleen,
from the other end of the sofa.

“Fancy getting like that over a bloody Irishman,” moaned
Ken, who wouldn't ever forgive George Best for not signing for Manchester City.

“Will you take her out and find her, a bloke or something?”
Tom asked, still staring at the T.V.

“Hmm, maybe Amanda will invite someone nice to her
party.”  Kathleen smiled, thinking of the possibility of matchmaking for
her youngest daughter.

“Oh no,” whispered Bets to Tom. “I’d better warn Amanda, and
Charlotte for that matter.”

“Will you shut up and let me watch this please.  He’s
trying to tell her he loves her.”  Charlotte’s sudden stage whisper
surprised them all.

“Sorry,” was the unison reply.

They sat for a few more minutes until they heard the
familiar drum beats of the theme tune, and visibly relaxed.  No one was
allowed to speak when Charlotte was watching her favourite soap opera,
especially when she was feeling sad or unhappy, it gave her reason to wallow.

“Does anyone want to play a game of something?” Tom asked
brightly, trying to lighten Charlotte’s mood.  He got no response from
her, just nods from everyone else. 

Kathleen took Bets to one side.  “If we play on the
coffee table right in front of her she’ll have no option but to join in
eventually.  I’ll get the nibbles.”

Bets groaned again. It had only been two hours since lunch,
and she was absolutely stuffed, but what the hell, it was Christmas and you
couldn’t refuse Kathleen.  She went back into the living room and sat upon
the arm of Charlotte’s chair.

“Are you going to play Charlotte?”

Charlotte shook her head.  “No, I’m watching telly.”

Bets didn’t know what else to do; Charlotte was fine all
day, laughing and joking through lunch.  However, the more she drank the
more morose she got and by the time her favourite T.V. programme came on she
was practically suicidal.

Charlotte had telephoned Bets as soon as she had got home on
the evening of the kiss and had told her everything that had happened. 
She explained about Niall, about lunch and about “bloody Ingrid
Cathcart."  Bets had thought that she seemed okay, angry yes, but
okay.  But then, the following evening at Palmer’s Christmas party, she’d
really gone to town about it all.

Charlotte was pretty sloshed by the time Bets had arrived in
the hotel, which didn’t help matters.  Paul had treated the staff to a
night’s stay, and Charlotte had been there since she’d picked her car up
earlier in the day, and since early evening the mini bar took some hammering.

“Why say all those things to me Bets when he knew that
nothing could come of it, you know he said I was sexy don’t you, and pretty?”

Bets was helping a very drunk, slurring, Charlotte up to
their room after the party had finished.  Luckily, she was quite well
behaved, sitting steadily getting drunker by the minute.  Bets knew that
Charlotte was hurting, she was a morose drunk when she was deeply upset;
Charlotte misbehaved badly when she was happily drunk.

“You said Charlotte, about a hundred times…come on lean on
there while I push the lift button.”  She propped Charlotte against the
reception desk.

“I should have stayed hating him, but no, he flatters me and
wins me over with lasagne, chips and lager, the shit head.  Oh God, why is
he so gorgeous Bets, why can’t he be ugly like, oh, I don’t know, let’s say
Bobby…ooh hi Bobby, hi Judith?”  Charlotte’s hand covered her mouth as she
tried to suppress a giggle.

“Night Charlotte,” muttered Bobby.  He had seen
Charlotte drunk before, and decided to walk upstairs and not share a lift with
her.

“Night,” sing songed Charlotte.  “Miserable prat!”

“CHARLOTTE!” Bets scolded Charlotte, as she stabbed her
finger once more at the lift button.

“Well he is.”

“Maybe, but you shouldn’t shout it out. It may come as a
shock to Judith.”  Both Bets and Charlotte burst into fits of
giggles. 

Just then the lift finally arrived, and Bets and Charlotte
peered inside.  Rob and Laura were in a state of undress on the
floor.  They stopped momentarily to gaze up at their audience.

“Are you going up?” Bets asked, exasperated.

“I think he already has!” Charlotte exploded into fits of
laugher, as she fell inside.

Since that night, Charlotte had only stopped drinking to
sleep.  When Bets had arrived at eleven o’clock on Christmas morning to
find her sober, she was really pleased.  Bets thought that Charlotte had
obviously got Niall out of her system, but she was patently wrong. 
Charlotte had refused to play Operation with them, but just tutted every time
one of them had set the buzzer off.  Then when the second instalment of
Eastenders had started she had taken herself into another room to watch it and
to partake in some quiet sobbing into a cushion.  Bets had eventually
followed her to try to get Charlotte to re-join the land of the living. 
Charlotte, sobbing silently, ignored her.

“Charlotte, what is the matter?”

“It’s just so sad,” she cried, pointing at the screen.

“Charlotte, they are teenagers, and it’s not real.  Why
don’t you come and play Buckaroo with us?”

Charlotte shook her head.  “No, there’s ten minutes
left.”