Guess Who I Pulled Last Night? (28 page)

Kerry spent her birthday on the beach with Esme, building
sand castles, digging for shells and generally enjoying the fresh air. 
When she had finally returned to the car her good humour disappeared; the wing
mirror was broken off.  It was nowhere to be seen, which annoyed her even
more because now she would have to find the money for a new one, as well as for
the repair. However, they’d had a lovely day, so even that couldn’t dampen her
spirits for long.

When Kerry pulled into the yard the first person that she
saw was Owen, leaning against the cowshed wall.  She beeped her horn and
waved, and all she got was a curt nod in return.  Kerry watched him from
her rear-view mirror as he walked across the yard in her direction, and as she
pulled up outside the caravan, he appeared at her door.

“Had a good time then, you’ve been gone for ages?”  He
scuffed the grass with the toe of his boot, not looking at Kerry.

“Yes, lovely thanks,” she replied, stunned to learn that she
was on a time limit.

Kerry opened the caravan door so that she could carry Esme
straight in, talking to Owen as she did so.  “It was a little cold, but it
did us good to have a run around on the beach.  Esme is absolutely
shattered; well, you can see that for yourself.”  Kerry turned back to
Owen a step behind her, staring at her intently.

“What happened to your wing mirror?” he asked, without
averting his gaze.

Side stepping him, and for some unknown reason, zipping her
padded jacket up to her chin, Kerry moved toward the car and leaned into 
unfasten Esme from her car seat.

“Someone in the car park must have done it, which I could
have done without.  I bet it will cost a fortune to repair.”  She
stood back outside the car, not wanting to take Esme in just yet.  She
didn't want Owen to see it as an invitation.  She didn’t want him in the
caravan tonight; perhaps it was because she felt so tired.

“I can sort that out for you.”  His tone was kind, but
there was no sign of it in his face; it was expressionless. “I’ve got a mate
who works in a garage, and he owes me a couple of favours.”

“Oh you don’t have to waste your favours on me. It's not
that I can’t afford it. I would just rather spend my money on something a
little nicer.”  Kerry looked away as Owen’s stare intensified.

“Look, I’ll sort it out okay!” 

The sharpness to his voice startled Kerry. She turned to
look at him, to see him disappearing towards the house.  “Thanks,” she
called out.  Owen raised his hand in acknowledgment, but did not speak.

“God, he’s strange,” Kerry whispered
quietly to herself.  She lifted her sleeping baby from the car and took
her inside to the warmth and safety of the caravan.

Paul and Niall were sat in a quiet corner of The Bell, both
sipping orange juice. When Paul had returned to his office, he had found Niall
looking through the window, watching Charlotte’s car disappearing.  His
back had been slumped and his hands deep inside his pockets, all signs to Paul
that the meeting had not gone well.

“Niall,” he called gently, “are you okay?”

Niall turned slowly to face him, his eye's dark and his face
grey.  “Not really, I think I could do with a drink.  However, when
did that solve anything?”

“Quite,” said Paul.  “Look it's almost lunchtime, let’s
nip round to the pub for a chat and an orange juice.”  Paul opened the
door and guided Niall out by his elbow.

They had been sitting for ten minutes, barely speaking, but
it was a companionable silence.  Paul decided that he should start the
conversation, hoping that he wasn’t intruding.

“I presume Charlotte denied everything?” he asked.

“No actually, she didn’t,” Niall paused, as he looked at
Paul’s shocked face.  “She admitted sleeping with him, but said it was
just after New Year, not as recently as Grant said.”

“I’m shocked that she would even contemplate it, I didn’t
realise that they were still in contact.”  Paul wondered what Charlotte
was doing.  “If I remember rightly though, had she not just found out that
you had a fiancée?” he asked, still determined to prove Charlotte’s innocence.

“It doesn’t matter Paul.  I’m sorry but I believe
Grant, what reason does he have to lie to me?  Charlotte, on the other
hand, is going to say anything to get out of it.”  Niall sighed, thinking
about what could have been.

“Well I’m obviously not going to be able to change your
mind,” said Paul, “but remember I was around when that little shit broke her
heart.  I saw what a mess he made of her life, and I can’t imagine for one
minute that she would risk letting that happening again, especially as she has
feelings for you.”  He looked at Niall slumped in his chair.  “He
could be lying to get back at Charlotte you know?”

“Why, he was the one who finished it with her.  Surely,
she would be the one with revenge in mind?”

“Is there no chance for you two then, I mean look at you
Niall, it’s not exactly a decision that has made you happy is it?”

“No, but I saw what cheating and philandering did to my
ma.  It broke her Paul, that along with the booze and beatings.  I
always vowed that I would never let anyone treat me that way, so I’m not going
to start now.”

“Right, so instead you are going to spend the rest of your
life with someone who doesn’t really mean that much to you,” retorted Paul.

“You don’t know anything about my relationship with Ingrid,”
Niall spat back, before pushing his empty glass away.

“Well it can’t be that good, or you wouldn’t have fallen for
Charlotte.”

Niall had to agree that Paul had a point, but he couldn’t
risk letting Charlotte break his heart, at least Ingrid loved him; she must do;
she'd chased him hard enough.

“So,” Paul whispered, “are you going to stay with Ingrid,
even after finding out that you don’t really love her?”

“I’m going to try to make a go of it.  We were happy
you know, before Charlotte distracted me,” answered Niall, not looking at Paul
directly.

“If you say so, or were you then just making a go of it?”
Paul asked kindly.

Niall didn’t answer, but gazed ahead of him, trying to put
thoughts of Grant and Charlotte out of his mind.

“Niall, I know I’m some bloke that you’ve only recently met,
and there isn’t a lot of advice that I can give you as far as women are
concerned.  However, I do happen to be a friend of the girl of your
dreams, so if you ever need to talk.”  Paul placed a friendly hand on
Niall’s shoulder.

“I know and thank you Paul, but I’m sure that I’ll be okay.”

Charlotte was dressed in her pyjamas and curled up on the
sofa, accompanied by a large carton of rum and raisin ice cream, a bottle of
wine and Petula.  She was watching Dirty Dancing for what was probably the
100th time.

As she gazed at Johnny and Baby doing lifts in the water,
Charlotte shovelled ice cream into her mouth while salty tears slid down her cheeks,
landing on her spoon.  She wasn’t really taking in the film. She knew it
off by heart anyway; instead, she was replaying everything that had been said
earlier in Paul’s office.

Her mood was fluctuating between peaks and troughs, peaks
when she was glad to be rid of such an arsehole, and troughs when she realised
that she had told Niall never to ring her ever again.  Knowing what little
she did about him, Charlotte guessed that he would keep her to her word. 
After their confrontation, she had arrived home with swollen eyes from crying,
and by then an almighty headache; she decided to go to bed and try sleep.

Surprisingly, she slept peacefully for two hours, only
waking because the boy racer, who lived across the road, had decided to blast some
crappy dance music from his car stereo at full volume.  Charlotte, not
happy being woken, promptly stuck her head out of the bedroom window and gave
him a blast of her own; mostly, expletives that even shocked the boy racer.

After half an hour of trying to get back to sleep, Charlotte
hauled herself out of bed and decided to ring Bets.  There was no reply
from Bet’s flat, so Charlotte had sent her a text, urging Bets to ring
her.   That had been three hours ago, and she still hadn’t heard
anything.  While she waited impatiently, next to the phone, Charlotte
considered ringing a manure company and getting them to deliver 200 tons to
Grant’s house.  However, the momentary peak in her mood suddenly hit a
trough, realising that she had no idea where he lived, or even what his
telephone number was.  Now, to make matters worse, she was feeling sick,
not surprising after a family carton of ice cream.  Unperturbed by the
queasiness bubbling inside her, Charlotte shuffled to the kitchen in search of
more provisions.  She flung open cupboard doors, searching for something
suitable, finally finding a sugar filled booty hidden behind a tin of out of
date peaches.  She took two slabs of blackberry jelly, a packet of sugared
almonds and half a tube of silver bullet cake decorations, and made her way
back into the living room; just in time for the big seduction scene.

“I hate her Petula, look at her bra and how white it is, not
a bloody label in sight.  Huh, not like real life, when you whip your top
off to find that you’ve got your old grey sports bra on, with toothpaste down
the front.  And I bet her knickers are perfect. I bet they haven’t got
bits of elastic hanging off them with the seams coming undone.  Real life
isn’t like that Baby, you silly tart.”  Charlotte was wagging a finger at
the T.V. screen now, as silent tears rolled down her cheeks.  “He doesn’t
love you. He's playing with you. You'd be better off with the nerd; at least,
he owns two hotels.”

As she threw a silver bullet at the screen, the ringing at
the doorbell shrilled in the background.  Charlotte stood up, and armed
with all her food, went to answer it.

“Hiya, did you fancy some company then?”  Bets grinned
at Charlotte, holding up her mobile to show the text message that she’d
received.

It was all too much for Charlotte as thoughts of her meeting
with Niall came flooding back.  She dropped all her E numbers to the
floor, and flung her arms around Bet’s neck, sobbing into her leather jacket,
while a dull ache thudded inside her chest.

“Oh Bets it’s not fair, why is her bra so white?”

January moved into a pleasantly mild February with everyone
going about their business.  The warmer weather, however, did not bring
good humour with it.  Bets, Kelvin and Charlotte were still worried about
Kerry as there had been no further word from her.  Kelvin had continued
with his nightly search, but even he was beginning to realise the futility of
it all.  Bets and Charlotte were very supportive of him, trying to make
him feel more positive about the situation; almost convincing him that she
would be home soon. 

Bets had to work extra hard; she also had to keep an eye on
Charlotte.  Charlotte became somewhat sullen and bad tempered; constantly
pre-menstrual were Tom’s comment.  Bets had arranged shopping trips, meals
out and nights boozing, but nothing seemed to be working; Charlotte wore a
permanent grimace.  Eventually, following a silent drive home after seeing
Kelvin, Bets rang Amanda and Tom; she was their sister, so they too should
share some of the responsibility of turning her back into a human being.

Bets, on the other hand, was getting back to her old self,
slowly but surely.  She no longer felt sad every day, not exactly
exultant, but certainly not sad.  She had, however, become some sort of born
again virgin.  Bets wasn’t sure why, but for some reason, sex didn’t seem
that important anymore.  Perhaps she was growing up at last, or possibly
it was the dose of thrush she had developed from Michael, the hotel manager’s
flavoured ribbed condoms.  She had to admit that it had scared her
slightly; even with protection she wasn’t totally safe.

Kerry’s last few weeks had moved along slowly and quietly,
something which she had actually enjoyed.  It gave her some time to
recharge her batteries and start to think of her future; a little.  She
had given some thought to what her life was going to be like without Kelvin,
but not too much.  She felt sick whenever the image of his face flashed
before her eyes, because she would wonder what he would be doing at that very
moment and who he would be with.  Kerry tried to keep herself busy so that
she didn’t think these thoughts, and generally, it worked, but the sharp,
searing pain around her heart never went away.  Esme was blossoming in the
fresh country air with a healthy rosy glow in her cheeks and seemed to be
fairly happy with just Kerry for company.  Owen kept himself to himself
more or less, only waving from across the farm yard, no longer visiting for an
afternoon a cup of tea.

Charlotte knew that she was making everyone’s life a misery,
but no matter how hard she tried she couldn’t shake off the grey cloud of
sadness that followed her every day.  She hadn’t seen Niall since that
day, in Paul’s office, but then why would she.  The business with him was
now all finished; signed, sealed and delivered, so there were no sightings of
him at all.  Charlotte had, however, spoken to Grant.  True to type
he couldn’t help but telephone her to gloat; he’d gotten one over on Charlotte
and wanted to make sure she knew it.

“I hear that your latest romance is off then.”  There
was no greeting of any kind; he went straight for the jugular.

“You bastard, how could you do that to me?”  Charlotte
was alone in the office at the end of the working day.

“Simple, you treated me no better than a dog last time I saw
you.  You deserved it, you sad old cow.”  The venom was very clear in
his voice.

“I didn’t deserve that at all.  Don’t you think that
you did enough to me three years ago, or had you conveniently forgotten that?”
she asked desperately, tears pricking at her eyelashes.

“Charlotte, you shouldn’t be bitter about these
things.  You just weren’t right for me, so I had to end it, simple,” his
tone was now smug.

“Fair enough Grant, in fact, you did me a favour because
thoughts of spending the last three years with you really makes me want to
vomit.  What about Niall though, that was cruel.  He’s supposed to be
your friend, how could you do that to him?”

“All’s fair as they say.  He’ll get over it. Ingrid is
much better for him than you.  In fact, a little bird tells me that
they’ve booked a wedding at long last,” he told her.

Charlotte could tell that he was smiling on the other end of
the phone, and she could tell that he wasn’t lying.  She’d heard his
attempts often enough in the past, and they weren’t good.  Although she
had known there was no chance of reconciliation with Niall, the news still came
like a bullet through her heart.

While images of Niall danced before her eyes, Charlotte’s
throat closed up and her heart began to beat faster, as the desire to retch
grew, she slammed the phone down.  There was no point in arguing with
Grant, or even asking any questions, it wouldn’t help matters.  Evidently,
Niall wasn’t heart broken by her apparent betrayal otherwise he wouldn’t be
making wedding plans so quickly.  Obviously, Charlotte had just been a
dalliance that had helped him to realise how much he loved Ingrid.

Charlotte sat behind her desk for almost two hours, thinking
about Niall and trying to answer the questions that were raised in her
mind.  Such as why did she feel like this about him?  She knew that
she loved him, yet how could she, she didn’t really know him?  They’d had
two lunches and furtive episode of making out, but before that they had been
nothing but rude to each other. Charlotte thought about it long and hard and
couldn’t think of any reason why she should love a man whom she hardly
knew.  However, she had fallen in love with him, and she had to accept
that he obviously didn’t love her; or even like her enough to give their
relationship a go.  Love could be very one-sided and Charlotte realised,
as she sat under the lamp light, that if she didn’t sort herself out, then she
really would become Miss Haversham and there was no way that she was going to
give Grant, or Niall that satisfaction.

Charlotte reached down and punched a quick dial button on
her telephone. She listened to the ring tone for a few seconds; a bright,
familiar voice answered.

“Hiya Bets, what are you doing tonight?”

“Hi.  Unfortunately for a Friday evening nothing, why?”

“Do you fancy getting absolutely bladdered?” Charlotte
asked.  After a few minutes deciding where to go, and what to wear, their
evening was planned.

Charlotte replaced the receiver, turned out the lights and
left the office.  As she set the alarm, she thought about her promotion
coming up.  She had worked hard for it, putting much time and energy into
the business, and she would continue to do; now Niall Devine wasn’t around to
distract her.

As Charlotte drove along the dark country roads her mobile
started ringing on the seat next to her.  Pulling over she snatched it up
and saw that it was Paul’s home number displayed.

“Hi Paul, are you okay?” she asked trying to sound brighter
than she actually felt.

There was a momentary silence on the other end of the
line.  “Charlotte, I truly hate to do this to you, and I wouldn’t if there
was any other way around it.  I’m really sorry, but could you call at
Niall’s house and pick up some documents for me?”  Paul rushed out his
request, guessing what her reaction would be.

Charlotte didn’t shout, remaining calm, but gave a firm.
“No.”

“Please Charlotte. One of their engineers has to go out to
India on Tuesday morning.  He needs his public liability, and personal
insurance upgraded, and rushing through before he goes.  Please,” he
pleaded.

“No, Paul.  I’m sorry can’t someone else go?”

“There is no one else that I can ask.  It would be
awful if anything happened with the guy while he was over there, and he wasn’t
insured properly.”  Then Paul played his trump card.  “Look if you do
this for me I’ll let you have any car of your choice for your company car;
within reason of course!”

It made Charlotte think again, but the thought of seeing
Niall made her stomach flip over and wring itself out.  However, she also
knew that if anything did happen to the engineer Palmer Insurance’s good name
would be ruined. 

“Okay, but I won’t hold you to the car; we’ll see whether we
can afford it first.  But please remember how much I hate you at this
moment.”

“Thank you, I really do appreciate this. I’ll ring Niall now
and tell him you are on your way.”  Charlotte grunted, on the other
end.  “Charlotte, I really mean it about the car,” Paul added, hoping to
pacify her.

“Okay,” she sighed. “Bye.”  She cut him off with a
press of a button, thinking how she would love to be able to do that to all
men; cut them out with a press of a button.

Her feelings in turmoil, Charlotte’s speed alternated
between fast and very slow.  Fast when she wanted to get the nightmare over
and done with, and then slow when she thought about seeing Niall in
person.  What was she going to say to him?  How would he react to
seeing her?  And how on earth was she going to react? 

All too soon her questions were about to be answered; she
pulled into the drive, the gravel crunching under her tyres.  The shining
of her headlights and the noise must have clearly announced her arrival,
because the front door was flung open as she got out of the car.

Charlotte’s heart beat like bongo drums as she walked
towards Niall.  The light from the hallway shone behind him, threw a warm
glow into the cold night air.  He stood, with bare feet and a naked chest
in just a pair of threadbare jeans.  He looked like a model for a jean's
advert, standing with one hand resting against the doorframe.  The button
on his jeans was undone, showing no sign of any underwear, only a thin line of
hair appearing from his waistband, up to his perfect “inny” belly button. 
Niall’s stomach was flat and tight, and as Charlotte’s eyes moved up his body,
she noticed that his black hair was damp, obviously he had recently
showered.  She fought the urge to groan out loud, ignoring the feeling of
excitement deep, deep within the pit of her stomach.  Shaking thoughts of
a naked Niall from her head, Charlotte smiled dully at him.  It was not
reciprocal, as Niall simply thrust a brown envelope towards her.

“Everything should be there, and signed.  You can email
the confirmation to me to save you calling again.  I just need him to be
fully covered my Monday evening.”  He looked straight at Charlotte, not
afraid of eye contact with her.

Charlotte, on the other hand, was afraid, but couldn’t bear
to take her eyes away.  She wanted to take in every detail of him, his
eyes, his mouth, his everything, to keep her going in the months ahead; she
wanted to remember it all.

“Fine, I’ll make sure that it’s sorted out, first thing
after the weekend.  Sorry to have disturbed you,” she answered, not even
attempting a smile.

“No, its fine,” he said, smiling slightly, bringing
momentary hope to Charlotte.  His tone, however, was curt and
professional.  “It’s urgent so I wouldn’t have expected anything less.”

About to turn and leave, Charlotte caught a shadow behind
him.  Two thin, porcelain white arms entwined themselves around his waist;
it was Ingrid.

“Come on darling, its cold out here.  Anyway, I’m sure
that Charlene has somewhere else she wants to be. I know I do.”  She
laughed throatily.  As she kissed Niall’s bare shoulder, Ingrid's cat-like
eyes flicked in Charlotte’s direction.

Charlotte thought what a bitch Ingrid was; Charlene was it
well two could play that game.

“Yes, Irene is right. I do need to go.  As I said, I
will ensure that this is completed first thing Monday morning.”!

Charlotte turned and moved towards her car, aware of eyes
boring into her back; however, she didn’t turn around.  As she waited to
pull out back onto the road, Charlotte quickly checked her rear-view
mirror.  The door was now closed, but she could see that Niall was at the
window, a curtain in each hand, ready to pull them together.  He paused
briefly, and then he was gone.

Kerry was sitting in the caravan, watching a repeat of a
sitcom’ on the portable television and popping cubes of chocolate into her
mouth.  The program was fairly amusing, but she was restless. 
Endless evenings spent alone in such an enclosed space were beginning to take
their toll.  She sprang up and switched the T.V. off, immediately turning
it on again, then off once more, snatching a magazine from the table.  She
curled her legs beneath her and began to read the first page; she got halfway
down and felt bored with it already.  Putting the magazine down and
sighed.

“Ooh, I am so bored,” she ranted at the blank television.

Kerry knew that she needed to get out of the caravan, before
she smashed some plates to relieve the monotony.  She looked in on Esme,
pacified that she was fast asleep. Kerry put on her coat; she decided to take a
short walk, just around the pasture.

Pulling the caravan door gently shut and locking it, Kerry
let out a blast of air.  She felt like she’d been let out of prison. 
It would take her five minutes at the most to walk the circumference of the
pasture, but it was enough.  She would be getting some fresh air and be
stretching her legs.  She started to walk, breathing in the cold night
air, looking out on to the surrounding fields and the woods beyond.  It
was so quiet she thought that she almost heard the clouds move above her; that
was the problem she realised, the silence.  At home, she was used to all
her family and friends popping in and Kelvin’s mates always piling into the
house to watch football.  This time had been good to get around her around
the breakdown of her marriage, but it hadn’t really been any good for her
sanity; she started to talk to herself in the evenings.  Kerry knew that
if asked Owen would have been only too happy to sit and chat with her, but
something about her told her to be cautious.

As she got to the caravan, Kerry popped inside to check on
Esme.  Seeing that she was still sleeping peacefully, Kerry went outside
and flopped down onto the caravan steps.  She looked up at the sky, not a
star in sight because of the clouds.  She tried to remember what her dad
used to say about clouds at night, whether it will mean a cold day tomorrow or
not.  If she thought about it, she could work it out, but she wasn’t
really sure and in any case, the only thoughts inside her head were those of
her dad.  Kerry thought about him quite a lot while she’d been here, a
positive outcome to her exile.  At least at this moment in time she could
recall memories of him without getting upset all the time, or being angry at
him for not watching the road during the day that he died.  She wished
that he was here now, he would have known what to do.  Kerry was sure that
he wouldn’t have let her, and Kelvin get beyond this stage; he would have had
something to say and do about it a long time ago.