Guess Who I Pulled Last Night? (36 page)

“What do you mean?” Bets asked, a look of concern spread
across her face.  “You can always talk to the two of us, you know.”

“I know Bets, and I really appreciate that you are always
there for me, but I think this time I need a professional. It's not just advice
on men and clothes that I need.”  Kerry leaned forward and gave Bets' hand
a squeeze.

“It’s probably best to talk to someone not involved,
anyway,” Charlotte added. 

“Yes, but after what Owen did, I need to make sure that I
get whatever help is necessary, to help me to forget.”

“Well, I do think that you are being remarkably calm about the
whole thing,” Bets said, taking another mouthful of tea.

“Hmm, Kelvin is worried that I’m too calm and bottling
things up.  But, I’m sure that things will work out with the right
help.  Well less of my misery, what about you two, how are your love lives?”

Charlotte, and Bets both burst into spontaneous laughter.

“What bloody love life?” snorted Charlotte, going on to
spend half an hour filling Kerry in on the situation with Niall.

“Oh Charlotte that is so sad, and he’s getting married on
your birthday as well,” whispered Kerry, involuntary tears pricking her eyes.

“Hmm I know the irony of it all.  Never mind, I’ve just
got to get on with my life and hope that he is happy in his own way; I’d hate
for him to be sad.”

Bets smiled kindly at her, amazed that Charlotte could be so
compassionate.  Then suddenly her smile turned into a frown, as Charlotte
changed the subject to Bets’ love life.

“Anyway, let’s ask Bets about this mystery man she thinks
she could be in love with.”

Kerry, getting excited, started to bounce up and down on her
chair.  “Yeah, spill the beans Bets, who is he?”

“There is no-one, I told you that it was a hypothetical
situation,” Bets stared hard at Charlotte, daring her to say anything
more.  “I was merely commenting on how difficult I would find it to know
whether I was in love, or not, that’s all.”

“Yeah right!” came Charlotte’s derisive response.

“I was!” Bets exclaimed.  “You tell me, what man you
have seen me with lately.”

Charlotte thought about it momentarily.  “No, I don’t
suppose I have, except Tom of course, but he doesn’t count.”

“E-e-exactly,” stammered Bets.

“How is Tom, by the way, is he still with that Isabel girl
or is he onto his next conquest?” Kerry asked, desperate to catch up on
anything that she had missed.

Bets had to bite her tongue, to stop herself from answering
Kerry’s question.  She couldn’t let them know how much she had been seeing
of Tom, and how much she knew about his business; if she did the two best
criminal minds in Cheshire were bound to deduce who the mystery man was. 
Suddenly, Charlotte began to speak, saving Bets from any embarrassment.

“No, he hasn’t been seeing Isabel for a few weeks now, but
he has got a date tonight.”

Bets nearly spat her tea across the room. “Oh, who with and
where?” She tried to sound casual, but luckily Kerry and Charlotte didn’t hear
the desperation in her voice.

“Some girl who went to the shop to buy her boyfriend a
shirt, would you believe it?”

“Yes, I would,” Kerry giggled, used to Charlotte’s tales of
Tom’s conquests.

“By the time he’d finished with the sales patter, she’d
spent nearly two hundred pounds and asked him out on a date.”

“So he didn’t ask her then?” Bets asked, her heart beating
faster by the second.

“No, he said that he wasn’t flirting with her, but you know
Tom. He can’t help himself.”

Bets managed a small laugh, as she vigorously nodded her
head.  “Yes, yes I do.  Where have they gone to, on this date?” 
She needed more information, but then felt silly; it wasn’t as if she was
jealous or anything.

“Oh erm, the Black Lion I think he said.  You know the
one on the country road that takes you out to the old castle.  I suppose
that they don’t want to risk being seen by the boyfriend.”

“He doesn’t change does he?”  Kerry smiled, realising
how much she’d missed this type of evenings, even before she went off. 
“So,” she continued, “nothing else has happened while I’ve been away?”

“Oh Bets, tell Kerry about Alfred.”

An hour later Bets was positively itching to get away, she
had attempted it for the last forty-five minutes, but each time she had started
to make a move Charlotte had thought of something else that they needed to tell
Kerry about.

“So, that’s agreed then, Charlotte. We'll go for a drink on your
birthday,” Kerry gushed, excited about the prospect of a night out with
everyone.  “We'll get Amanda, Dave and Tom to come as well.  We can
go for a few drinks and then for a curry, what do you think?”  Kerry
certainly had the bit between her teeth, and wasn’t going to let go until
Charlotte agreed to her plans.

“Okay, but you don’t have to take my mind off things you
know. I will be okay I promise,” laughed Charlotte.

Bets grinned through gritted teeth, moving her bottom to the
edge of her seat.  “She knows that Charlotte, just agree, or we could be
here all night.”

Charlotte gave a conciliatory nod.

Bets sighed in relief.  “Good, anyway I’m going to have
to go,” she announced standing up. “I’ve got a really busy day tomorrow.”

Kerry and Charlotte sat with mouths open in amazement. Bets
never cared how busy the next day was going to be, or how early she had to get
up; she could keep going until the wee small hours.

“What?” Charlotte glanced at her watch.  “It’s just
nine o’clock, we’ve only been here three hours.”

Bets would normally agree. Three hours wasn’t half long
enough to gossip, particularly after weeks of not seeing each other, but
tonight it was too long.

“I know, but I’m really tired, and I still don’t like to
leave Alfred with Charlie for too long, and I’m sure Kerry could do with an
early night, eh Kerry?” she winked exaggeratedly at Kerry.

Kerry giggled.  “Not really, we’ve been in bed most of
the day actually.”

Bets, looking at a giggling Charlotte and Kerry, could sense
another conversation coming on.

“Look you two, I’m going to have to go, are you coming
Charlotte or will you get a taxi later?” she barely paused for an answer. “A
taxi, okay fine, I’ll see you soon, bye.” She stooped to kiss them both on the
cheek, before she bolted from the house, down the drive to her car.  She
didn’t know why, but the road to the old castle was beckoning her to it.

Inside Kerry let the curtains drop back into place, once she
finished spying on her friend.

“So what do you think, a meeting with the mystery man?” she
asked.

“Yep, I think so, but I can’t for the life of me think who
it could be.”

As she made her way along the winding country roads towards
The Black Lion, Bets was beginning to think that she was going senile. 
She had convinced herself, practically to the doorstep that it was stupid to go
looking for Tom, but some indescribable force was pulling her in his
direction.  What did she hope to see from outside a pub, in a dark country
lane anyway?  Why on earth was she going there, they hadn’t even kissed, a
near miss maybe, but that was all it was?  The kiss, that hadn’t happened,
had been troubling Bets all day, no matter how hard she tried not to think
about it pictures whizzed through her mind, always ending in the same way with
a long, fantastically amazing kiss.  She endeavoured to make the images
end with her slapping Tom across the face, but they just wouldn’t.

With the pub lights, fifty yards ahead of her, Bets pulled
into a lay by, hoping to gather herself together, and turn around and go home.

“Shit, what am I doing here?” she gasped, as she slammed her
hand against the steering wheel, so hard that there was a short blast on the
horn.

For a split second, she closed her eyes, hoping that it
wouldn’t bring people running from the pub to see what was going on.  Then
she opened them, realising it would take a lot more than a quick toot of a horn
to stop people drinking.

“God, you stupid woman, just go home,” she chastised
herself.  “Right drive past the pub, turn around and go home.”

Turning the engine back on she sped off past the pub, not
even giving it a sideways glance, finding a farm driveway to turn around
in.   As she reached the pub Bets curiosity, and stupidity, got the
better of her; she had to see if she could see Tom, but couldn’t risk him
seeing her.

Sliding down in her seat, she turned off the car headlights,
and coasted slowly past the pub.  Carefully Bets lifted her head up
slightly, so that she could see through the passenger window, and gazed inside
the pub.  As she drifted past one window, there was no sign, she passed
the pub door, followed by the next window, easing her head a little higher to
get a better look.

“Shit!” she cried.

There sat behind a window table, with a dark-haired girl,
was Tom.  He was laughing, as was the girl who had a hand resting upon his
arm.  Bets ducked quickly, hoping that he hadn’t seen her, desperate to
remain anonymous.  She didn’t notice the car about to pull off from the
car park, and then just in time she looked ahead as the headlights of the Range
Rover caught the corner of her eye.  Quickly, she sat bolt upright and
spinning the steering wheel round about nine hundred degrees, manoeuvred her
car across the road and into the opposite lay by, hammering her brakes down
hard to stop her car slamming into the hedge.  The unhappy Range Rover
driver gave a two-fingered gesture and sped off home, with more than the legal
limit of alcohol inside him.

Physically shaking, beads of sweat on her top lip, Bets
rested her head against the steering wheel.  How could she have been so
stupid, what had she hoped to gain, except death by dangerous driving?

Breathing heavily, Bets slammed the car into gear and sped
away from the scene, back to the safety of her flat.

Inside the pub, oblivious to what was going on outside, Tom
was chatting to Karen, his date.

“Look, I am sorry but I thought it best to be straight with
you. It wouldn’t be fair to go out with you, not when I have feelings for
someone else,” he said rather sadly.

“But I have a boyfriend, and it doesn’t worry me,” his date
responded.

Tom frowned at her, rubbing a hand through his hair and
sighing.

“Yeah well maybe you don’t love him then.”

The next few weeks of February went slowly for Charlotte.
She felt as though she was constantly treading water, getting nowhere
fast.  She knew, however, that once she got her promotion, and Niall was
married. She would feel better; she would be able to get on with her life once
more.  Charlotte had thought that things would improve after she’d
returned from Kent.  She’d had a wonderful night with Niall, but it was a
chapter of her life that she had to close.  However, as the days had gone
on she realised that it was still unfinished business, and would be until he
had Ingrid’s ring on his finger.  She had also been worried about Bets,
who didn’t seem herself at all.  Only last week the three of them had gone
out, as a mini celebration for Kerry’s return, expecting to get absolutely
plastered, but Bets had drunk diet coke all evening, and the very occasional
brandy, leaving her sober as a judge.

“What’s wrong Bets, you look totally miserable, doesn’t she
Charlotte?” shouted Kerry, who by way of contrast, was extremely jolly and
rocking unsteadily on her feet.

Charlotte equally drunk, nodded solemnly.  “Yup, whaas
up buddy?”

Bets held out a steadying arm to Charlotte, and gently
leaned her against the taxi rank sign.

“Nothing, I’m fine honestly. I've just had a hard week at
work,” sighed Bets, wishing that she was at home, tucked up in bed.

“Phurgh, it must be catching, Mum says that Tom hasn’t
spoken for nearly a week, reckons he’s just tired; hey, quick here’s a
taxi…TAXI.”

Luckily, Charlotte and Kerry were running out into the
middle of the road, and didn’t see the uncomfortable look on Bets' face.

Kerry and Kelvin were the total opposite, very happy and
behaving like love’s young dream.  They had realised what they'd almost
lost, and had no intention of letting anything like that happen again.  It
hadn’t all been sweetness and light however, once after a counselling session,
the recriminations had started.  Kerry accused Kelvin of neglecting her,
and he in turn had accused her of trying to be everything to everyone, except
him.  But, they stopped shouting and realised that they should be talking.

One terrible day they had received a letter from the Welsh
Police, seeing an official envelope Kerry had opened it with trepidation. 
She thought that it would be to inform her when the trial was, a reminder of
that dreadful night, but it wasn’t, the letter was to let her know that there
would be no trial.  Owen committed suicide whilst on remand; he had
decided to take the coward’s way out and had hanged himself in his cell, with a
sheet.  Kelvin had been surprised at her tears, but as Kerry explained,
they were through a mixture of relief and pity for Mrs Llewellyn at the loss of
her son.  They agreed to send the Llewellyn’s a condolence card, the final
action in what was a nightmarish time during their lives.

On the whole, life was good for them, and getting better,
even better than it had been before. The main thing was they were working hard
at being a couple as well as being Esme’s parents, making sure that they made
time for each other.

Niall, like Charlotte, was also struggling to get through
the days, unable to get Charlotte out of his mind.  It was a cold blustery
day, and he had arranged to meet Paul, desperate for any form of contact with
her. 

Paul walked to meet him with his hands shoved deep into his
jacket pockets, battling against the cool wind that blew furiously around
him.  He sighed deeply as he spotted Niall, in the distance, sitting on
the bench where they had arranged to meet.  Niall’s shoulders were slumped
and his chin was pushed deep against his chest, as he stared out, unseeingly,
at the boats fighting their way across the river.  Paul wanted to slap him
around the back of the head, and tell him to go to Charlotte, sod Ingrid, but
somehow he knew that it would be futile.

“Hello Niall,” he announced himself, almost in a whisper,
afraid of startling him.

“Oh, howyer Paul thanks for coming.  Sit down, sit
down.”  Niall moved down the bench slightly, allowing room for Paul.

“So what can I do for you?  I presume it’s not
business, or you wouldn’t have arranged to meet me here.”

“Sure you’re right,” sighed Niall, “although even if it had
been business, I’m not certain that I would have come into the office.” 
He paused as he rubbed a hand against his dark rimmed eyes.  “I don’t know
whether I could stand seeing Charlotte.”

“Did something happen in Kent, only she hasn’t said
anything, except to scold me slightly for setting you both up?” Paul asked,
smiling half-heartedly.

Niall also smiled.  “Yes, don’t think that I’ve forgotten
that you crafty bastard.  Well, whatever your plan was it worked. We had a
fantastic time together.”

“So what happened?” enquired Paul, stretching his legs out
in front of him.

“Ingrid being pregnant is what happened.”  Niall
noticed the look of horror on Paul’s face, “Don’t worry, I told Charlotte
straight away, I couldn’t lie to her.”

“Oh dear,” sighed Paul, “is there nothing that you can
do?  I mean can’t you tell Ingrid that you can’t marry her, but you’ll
support the child?”

Niall shook his head vehemently.  “No I refuse to
repeat history.  My da was constantly leaving my ma, pregnant usually, so
I couldn’t put my ma through that.  I couldn’t stand it if she saw da in
me, I’ve always looked after the family, always been the responsible one, and I
would find it hard to change now.”

“But surely your mother would understand Niall?”

“Maybe, but would my kid when it grows up?”  Niall
looked at Paul earnestly, daring him to disagree.  “I need to ask you
something anyway.”

“Yes, what is it?” Paul asked, smiling kindly, suddenly
noticing that Niall looked drawn and thinner.

“I have something that I want to give to Charlotte, but I’m
not sure that I should.”

“What is it, a letter?”

“No,” said Niall, dropping his hand into his coat pocket,
“this.” He pulled out a black box, and slowly opening it, showed it to Paul.

“Oh Niall, it’s beautiful. She'll love it.  Of course,
you should give it to her.”

“I’m glad you said that, because I so want her to have
it.  I think that I’ll send it to her.  I have a feeling that Grant
has mentioned that it’s her birthday soon. I'll send it then.”

“No,” Paul gasped.  “I don’t think that you should.”

“Why, you just said…”

“I know it’s just that, well my dear chap you are getting
married on her birthday.”  He paused staring at the look of disbelief on
Niall’s face.  “So sending it then, well perhaps wouldn’t be a good idea.”

“You are joking, aren’t you?  No you’re not are
you?  Shit, what an absolute arse I am.”  Niall shook his head,
laughing emptily. “God, why is this happening to me?  I tell you Paul, I
must have been some real shit in a past life. I love her so much, and I know
that she loves me, but I’ve got to marry someone who I’m not really sure I even
like any more.”

Paul looked at him quizzically.  “What makes you say that?”

“Oh Ingrid has suddenly turned into the bitch from
hell.  Nothing I do is right, nothing I say is right; she does nothing but
snipe about everyone and everything.  She’s even talking about getting an
interior designer to redecorate my cottage, if I insist that we live there when
we are married.  All the work that I’ve put into it, it would be heart
breaking.  She’s always been strong minded, but she seems to have got
worse since she’s been pregnant.”  Niall sighed deeply and rubbed his eyes
again.  “I shouldn’t moan about her. She's probably not feeling too well,
and her hormones will be all over the place.  Since the night that Ingrid
conceived we’ve not even slept together, when she does stay over, which isn’t
often we lie on opposite sides of the bed, or she goes into  the spare
room “so she can sleep better.” I hate it Paul. I only want to be with
Charlotte, and my heart aches for her every minute of every day.” Niall dropped
his head into his hands and rubbed his face.  “God why is this happening?”
he cried.

Paul looked at his sad, pale face and knew that he would
have to try to meddle one last time, he couldn’t bear to see anyone this
unhappy.

“Niall, why don’t you take the gift to Charlotte, go around
to her house.  Perhaps you could have a talk, you know one last time, just
to tell her how you feel.  End it as friends.”

Niall shook his head.  “I don’t know Paul it would be
too difficult, for both of us.  Besides, I’m not sure I can cope with
being just friends.  I think her leaving Kent in the early hours of the
morning means that she’s said her good-bye; I don’t think I could handle it
again. I don’t think that she could.”

Paul placed a hand on Niall’s shoulder.  “Just let me
give you her address, then you can think about it.”

Niall fished into his jacket pocket for his mobile, and
entered Charlotte’s address as Paul gave it to him. 

“Thanks, I’ll think about it, and it would be nice to see
her.”  He smiled dreamily, thinking about their night together. 
“Shite, fancy getting married on her birthday. I bet that she thinks I’m a real
piece of work.”

“No she doesn’t,” soothed Paul. “You weren’t to know, and
Charlotte is aware of that.  So, what next?”

“Well there are a few last minute things to do for the
wedding, but to be honest my heart isn’t in it, and I need to think about what
I’m going to do about this.”  Niall closed his hand over the box. 

“Well for what it’s worth I think you should go and see her
with it.  You do understand why I can’t come to the wedding, don't
you?  My loyalties have to lie with Charlotte?”

Niall smiled warmly at Paul.  “Of course I understand.
I'd rather not be there myself,” he laughed feebly.  “But, there is one
thing Paul.”

“Yes, what is it?”

“You will look after her for me, won’t you?  She’s so precious,
and I want her to be happy.”  Unshed tears now glistened in Niall’s eyes,
as he looked at Paul.

Paul smiled, and gently laid a hand on Niall’s hunched
shoulder.

“Of course I will, but who will look after you Niall?”

As she sat at her desk working, Charlotte didn’t notice
Laura approaching holding a parcel.  She carried on, clattering away at
her keyboard, until Laura coughed nervously.

“Huh, huh.”

At first, Charlotte thought that it was Bobby and didn’t
look up as she answered.

“What is it Bobby, only I’m a little busy?”  Bobby
luckily wasn’t in the office as Laura began to giggle.  “Oh sorry Laura, I
thought that you were Bobby.”  Charlotte too started to laugh.

“Erm sorry.  Someone left this for you while I was
talking to Deb in reception.”  Laura handed over the brown jiffy bag to
Charlotte.

“Who was it, do you know?”  Charlotte asked as she
looked up at Laura, who shifted around uncomfortably on her feet.

Laura didn’t speak at first, but realising that she’d better
before Charlotte beat it out of her, she blurted out the name.  “Mr
Devine.”

She quickly took a step back, afraid that Charlotte may
punch her on the nose at the mere mention of his name.  No one knew
exactly what had gone on between Charlotte and Niall, but everyone who worked
with Charlotte had a gut feeling that it was a bad move to mention Niall
Devine.  Charlotte, however, didn’t punch Laura on the nose, but smiled
and held out her hand to take the parcel.

“Thank you Laura, so how long ago was that?” She placed the
parcel on her desk.

“About ten minutes ago, he asked me to wait before I gave it
to you, I’m sorry,” Laura spluttered, taking an even longer step back this
time, but Charlotte just smiled sadly.

“Thanks Laura, I’d better open it.”

She paused, waiting for Laura to go back to her own desk
before picking the parcel up with shaking hands.  Her trembling fingers
carefully opened the package and reached inside for the contents.  Inside
was a square, black velvet box and cream envelope.  She tore open the envelope
first, desperate to get some sort of contact with Niall.  She stared at
the page for a few seconds, the words swimming before her tear filled eyes, and
blinking them away, she began to read.

Darling Charlotte,

I know that we promised not to make contact with each other,
but I couldn’t let your birthday go by without something (I know that it’s a
little early)…

Charlotte glanced at the calendar on her desk, the 2nd of
March, nearly three weeks early.

…I didn’t feel that it would be appropriate to send
anything nearer the time, for obvious reasons, but I wanted you to know that
I’m thinking of you – God, how I’m thinking of you.  I find it hard to
believe what happened in Kent, it all seems like a dream now although I have to
say that it’s the best dream that I’ve ever had.  I have often found it
difficult to put into words how I feel.  My ma used to say I was a locked
book never mind a closed one, so I hope that the gift illustrates to you what
I’m feeling, because to all intents and purposes the real one belongs to you
anyway, and always will.  I wish that things could be different, but who
knows maybe in the next life.

Angel, you are my darling, and I adore you.  Take
care, you are forever in my thoughts and heart.

All my love always, Niall xxx

With tear pricking her eyes, Charlotte carefully folded the
letter and hugged it to her chest.  She didn’t know how it made her feel,
happy that he had been in contact, but sad that his words of love made things
seem much more final.  How had he known that it was her birthday on his
wedding day? She assumed that was what he meant, by not being appropriate to
send the gift nearer to her birthday.  Probably, her Fairy Godmother Paul
let it slip, this time she may forgive him, although he had got off fairly
lightly when she had come back from Kent.  Suddenly, Charlotte remembered
the box she carefully picked it up from the desk, and slowly opened it up,
gently peering inside as she did so.  This time she couldn’t stop the
tears from rolling down her cheeks, she put a hand to her mouth to stop the sob
from escaping.  Lying in the middle of the box, on pure white satin, was a
silver heart on a delicate chain.  It was not a solid one, but the outline
of one and as Charlotte lifted it tenderly from the box, she gasped.  She
recognised it instantly. It had been made from the silver thumb ring that Niall
had wanted her to have.  There were no defining marks, but she knew. She
had stared at it long enough during their night together, when it had been on
her own thumb.  As she held it in her hands, Charlotte noticed a small
piece of paper tucked inside the lid to the box, she freed it and unfolded it.