Guess Who I Pulled Last Night? (7 page)

Gwen blushed slightly. “No, but I did go into him with quite
a bang. He was very charming and blamed himself. Those eyes, so piercing, you
can tell a lot from someone’s eyes.  His tell me that he’s lonely, and
needs a female companion.  I'll tell you something else as well, he has
extremely firm buttocks.”

“Gwen, how do you know that?” Charlotte aghast, buried her
head in her hands.

“You can tell from looking. He wears very nicely tailored
trousers you see.  Let’s just say that we connected.  No words were
spoken as such, actually that's not strictly true.  I said, ' I’m sorry',
and he replied 'no problem'. I’m too old for him though.”

“Obviously,” replied Charlotte, smothering a giggle with a
cough. “Plus you are married.”

“Exactly, it wouldn’t be fair on Derek would it?  So, I
was thinking, what about you?” Gwen smiled widely at Charlotte.

“What about me?” Charlotte asked, incredulously.

“You and him,” Gwen paused for effect, “would be perfect for
each other, don’t you think?”

Charlotte shook her head slowly as she stood up. “What I
think Gwen, is that you have lost your marbles.  Now if you don’t mind,
both you and I have work to do.”  Charlotte moved away from the desk. She
hoped that Gwen would follow suit, and go back to her own.

“But Charlotte; those buttocks!”

“NO GWEN!” shouted Charlotte, so loudly that Laura nearly
jumped out of her seat. More quietly now, Charlotte continued. “I’m sorry Gwen,
but it isn't going to happen, so forget about it, now let’s do some work shall
we?”

“You can be such a spoil sport at times,” muttered Gwen, as
she pushed herself back across the room, still sitting on her swivel chair.

Now free of the mad woman Charlotte went back to her desk
and sat down, muttering to herself.  “Huh, toned body and nice buttocks my
arse.”

Later, that afternoon Bets was getting ready to go home,
tidying a few things away and putting the day’s takings in the safe, when
suddenly the telephone shrilled out.

“Oh, who is that? WE’RE CLOSED!” she shouted at the
telephone.  She let it ring a couple more times, but they were insistent,
whoever it was.  She quickly snatched up the receiver.  “Hello,” she
snapped, forgetting the usual Salon greeting.

“Err, hello, is that you Bets?” The male voice on the other
end asked.

“Yes, who is that?”

“It’s me, Stuart.”

“Oh, hi, sorry I sounded impatient; I thought that it was
someone wanting an appointment, and we’re closed.  How did you know that I
would still be here?” she asked, now with a dazzling smile spreading across her
face.

“I tried your mobile and got no reply, so I took a chance,
luckily it paid off.”

Bets could tell that Stuart was also smiling on the other
end. “Yes sorry, I turn my mobile off when I’m in the salon. So, what can I do
for you then?” she asked, already knowing the answer.

“Well I’m at a loose end tonight, so I was wondering if you
would like to go out to dinner.” His voice slightly faltered, aware that she
may say no.

“That sounds lovely, what time and where?” Bets stamped her
feet with excitement.

“Shall I pick you up at about seven thirty?”

“Yes, that would be great, shall I give you directions?”

Stuart hesitated slightly before answering, “No it’s okay,
Kelvin has mentioned once before where you live. I’m sure that I will be able
to find it.”       

“Right, seven thirty it is then, see you later, bye,”
whispered Bets.

“Bye.”

Right on the dot at seven-thirty, the doorbell rang. Bets
had spent nearly two hours getting ready, and was now almost fit to burst with
anticipation.  She spent an age getting ready, bathing in her favourite
bubble bath, teasing her hair into luxurious curls and trying on every outfit
in her wardrobe.  As she gave one last glance into the mirror, Bets knew
that she had chosen correctly.  The knee length, plain black dress, showed
off her figure perfectly; simple and understated, yet very classy. Her routine
of swimming and Zumba had paid off, she was very pleased that her arms were
nicely toned, there was nothing worse than a sleeveless dress that showed off a
pair of flapping, old lady’s bingo wings.  Quickly, she stepped into her
extremely high Louboutin shoes, picked up her bag, took a deep breath and then
opened the door. The black dress had the desired effect.

“Wow, you look fantastic.” Stuart leaned forward and pecked
Bets on the proffered cheek.

“Thank you.” Bets was not the sort of person to refuse a
compliment. “Shall we go?”

“Sure, the table is booked for seven forty-five, is Priory
Hall okay?” Stuart asked.

Bets was now really glad that she had gone for classy,
rather than overtly sexy. Priory Hall was one of the most expensive restaurants
in the area, and it was also where a lot of celebrities stayed, one famous
footballer had been married there.  “That sounds absolutely lovely,”
purred Bets. “Let’s go.” She pulled the door closed behind her and followed
Stuart. A smile spread across both their faces.

Kelvin was sat at the end of the bed watching Kerry get
ready for a night out.

“Why on earth do you want to go out with her?  In fact,
how did you even get talking to her?” he asked, as Kerry bent down to pick up
her shoes.  “She’s not only a little tart, but she’s years younger than
you.”

Kerry looked at him with disdain. “She was in the pub on
Saturday night, when I was out with the girls from work. You know what it’s
like when you’ve had a few drinks. You talk to anyone and agree to
anything.  Anyway, so what if she’s younger, I’m not that old you know,”
she snapped, aggressively.

“I know that.” Kelvin stood up to meet her glowering face.
“But you were out nearly all night on Saturday.  Don’t get me wrong, I
really don’t mind, but the girls you work with are more your sort of person.”

“Getting a little snobby, aren’t we Kelvin?”  Kerry
thrust her wrist out, indicating to Kelvin that she wanted him to fasten the
cheap bracelet around her wrist.

“No, but if you want to go out why not ring Charlotte or
Bets?  You haven’t seen them since Bet’s birthday.”

Kerry sighed deeply, “God. We don’t live in each other’s
pockets you know, anyway it was only yesterday.”

Realising that his argument was futile, Kelvin now took his
turn to sigh. “If you want to go out with Caroline, then that’s fine but be
careful.  You and I both know that she frequents some dodgy pubs. 
I’ll go and get myself something to eat.” He kissed Kerry tenderly on the cheek. 
“Have a good time and get a taxi back.”

As he turned to walk away Kerry reached out her hand to pull
him back, but then she dropped it, she couldn’t touch him.  She didn’t
know why she kept being nasty to him, but she couldn’t stop it.  Poor
Kelvin didn’t deserve it; she knew that much. Kerry looked at herself in the
mirror.  The cheap dress wasn’t too bad; it wasn't Karen Millen, but then
she wasn’t going to The Ivy. 

She shuddered slightly as she thought about her “moment” in
town that afternoon.  Even now she didn’t know why she had started to cry.
She hadn’t felt any sadder than she had any other day, she felt just as lonely
and empty as yesterday, no more no less.  Shaking her head to get rid of
the thoughts, Kerry pulled the dress down, smoothing it over her thighs. 
In half an hour there would be something spilt down it, no doubt, so what did
it matter that the seams weren’t straight or that the sequins were falling
off.  Kerry brushed her hair one final time before going downstairs and
quietly letting herself through the front door, a forlorn looking Kelvin
watching her from the kitchen doorway.

At Priory Hall, Bets was having an excellent time.  The
food was to die for, and the company was superb.  The conversation was
flowing well, with no uneasy silences, both finding that they had quite a lot
in common.

“Fancy you being a Zumba fanatic, you don’t see many men at
classes,” laughed Bets.

“I know, that’s why I’m a bit in the closet.  None of
my mates know,” said Stuart, a look of concern upon his face.

Bets giggled. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell Kelvin, oh damn
that reminds me; I promised Charlotte that I would try to ring Kerry.” 
Stuart looked at her quizzically, because she looked so concerned.  “She’s
feeling a bit low at the moment,” replied Bets, as an explanation.

“Oh, I see.” Stuart nodded, pausing to take a sip of his
orange juice.  “I wondered what the little outburst last night was all
about.  It just wasn’t Kerry at all, not cooking and then snapping at
Charlotte.”

“Yes I know; we are all worried about her.  She’s told
Charlotte that she’s bored, but somehow I think, well we all think, that there
is more to it.” Bets sighed heavily, as she played with the tablecloth.

“Kelvin hasn’t said anything to me, but then that’s
Kelvin.  It’s my problem, so there is nothing for you to worry about is
his mentality.”

Bets smiled, instantly recognising Kelvin. “God, you are so
right. He never complains about anything does he?  How long have you known
him then?” Bets asked, pushing her plate away.

“Oh, years, since infant school, our mums were quite
friendly back then as well, but we went to different senior schools and lost
touch.  We met up again about five or six years ago. He was one of my
first clients at the gym.  It was when he came back from Newcastle,” he explained.
“I’d only just started up and didn’t have many clients, so when he came in we’d
spend time chatting about the old days.  Then I mentioned that I needed a
computer system for the place, so Kelvin sorted it for me.  He wouldn’t
take any money for setting it up, so I bought him a few pints instead, and we
got really friendly again.  What about you, Kerry and Charlotte?” Stuart
asked, moving to one side to let the waiter take away their plates.

“Primary school too, they both looked after me on my first
day, and the rest, as they say, is history.”

“Would Sir or Madame like anymore wine?” the waiter asked,
hovering next to Stuart’s shoulder.  Stuart looked at Bets, who declined.

“No we’ll be fine thank you,” said Stuart, as the waiter
moved away to collect their main courses.  Suddenly, Stuart started to
giggle.

“What are you giggling like a girl for?” Bets asked, leaning
across the table.

“I was just thinking, Jason Conrad and I call you three The
Witches of Eastwick.”

“You cheeky devils,” laughed Bets, flicking her napkin at
him.  “Why, we aren’t that bad are we?”

“No, you're not really.  It’s just that every get
together we’ve ever had, you three are always huddled into a corner, giggling
away.  Jason reckons that you were putting spells on people.”  Quite
unexpectedly, Stuart reached across and took Bet’s hand in his.

Bets felt warm inside, happy to be there.  She smiled
back at Stuart. “Maybe we were.”

“I think that you definitely were.”

The comfortable silence was broken by Bets. “So Stuart, tell
me, why is a handsome, business man like you still single?” She picked up her
glass, and looked at him.  “I would have expected you to have a wife and
children, you don’t do you?” she asked, smiling widely.

Stuart smiled back. “No, I don’t, never found the right
person really.  What about you, a beautiful woman like you must have had
lots of offers of domesticity?”

“To be honest I don’t really stay around long enough,
usually that is.” Bets coyly licked her lips. “Why get close to someone, if
they are eventually going to leave you anyway?”

Stuart frowned as he picked up his own glass. “That’s really
sad, that you feel like that.  Surely, you don’t think that everyone in
love gets abandoned?”

“Most people do; I've seen what a broken heart has done to
Charlotte.  I know that she doesn’t have feelings for the guy anymore, but
ultimately, she’s still paying for it.  She uses the same cop out line as
you – I’ve not met the right person yet.” Bets giggled, Stuart’s smile
indicating that she had not offended him. “There have been plenty of guys who
would have been perfect for her, but they were all pushed away.”

“How can you say that they were perfect for her, surely
Charlotte would know better?” Stuart asked, while playing with his napkin.

“I don’t mean that they were her soul mates, or anything
like that, but she never gave them a chance.  Ever since we were kids,
Charlotte has always wanted a family, and a happy relationship, because that’s
what she’s grown up with.  Do you know her family?”

Stuart shook his head. “I think I met her brother once.”

“Oh, they are great. Really together, always there for each
other.  I do think that she is changing though. She's begun to realise
that one stupid idiot, who drives a Capri, shouldn’t be allowed to ruin your
life forever.”

“So, do you think that she’s ready to try to meet her “soul
mate' mate” then?” Stuart sat back in his seat, listening intently to what Bets
had to say.

“Maybe, but I do think that she’s realised that she’s spent
too much time worrying about having a broken heart again.” Bets stared at
Stuart’s smiling face, suddenly realising what lovely eyes he had.

“Ah, I'm afraid that you’ve gone against your own argument
on that one." He leaned forward again, and started to laugh as Bets
fidgeted uncomfortably in her chair.

“Hang on a minute; I didn’t say that was what I felt. 
Charlotte does, but I don't.  I have never really thought about family and
relationships in the same way.  I was an only child, and now an orphan
so,” Bets screwed up her face, and shook her head, “it doesn’t have the same
meaning for me."

“But surely you want to settle down one day?”

“Of course I do, and maybe I’m getting near the point where
I may start to think of the possibility, but it isn’t important to me,” she
replied.

“If you say so, but I think that you are just as scared as
Charlotte.  You, young lady, are in deep denial.”

“No I’m not, not scared, just wise to what can happen.” Bets
ran a hand distractedly through her hair.

“Perhaps I may be able to persuade you otherwise,” whispered
Stuart, moving closer.

“Maybe, perhaps you’ve come along at precisely the right
time to save me.”  Bets smiled seductively, thinking that he may almost
succeed.

Charlotte was curled up on the sofa, with Petula her cat,
when there was a knock on the front door.  Sighing heavily, she got up to
answer it, glad that it hadn’t been an hour earlier.  Anyone who knew
Charlotte knew that 7:30 on a Thursday evening was Eastender's time, and the
door or telephone would not be answered.  Through the glass in the door
Charlotte could just make out a short, dumpy figure.

“Hello Gran’, come in.” Charlotte stood aside to let her
grandmother into the warm hall. “How have you got here?”

“Taxi sweetheart, I just needed to talk to you.”

Charlotte followed her into the lounge, where Granny Joan
took off her coat and flung it onto the sofa, on top of Petula.

“Do you want a cup of tea Gran?”

“No thanks, but I’ll have a whisky,” she said grinning a
large toothless smile. “I can’t drink tea; I’ve forgotten to put my teeth
in.”  Her granddaughter disappeared, shaking her head.

              
A few minutes later Charlotte handed the drink to Granny Joan. She took a sip
and immediately screwed up her face.

“Is it too strong for you?” Charlotte asked.

“No, it's too bloody weak.  What did you do, just show
the glass the bottle?” She slammed the glass down onto the coffee table. 
“Oh, well I won’t stay long then.  I’ve come because I need your advice.”
Joan shuffled back into the armchair, her feet leaving the ground.

“My advice, regarding what; insurance or something?”

Joan, tutted loudly. “Is that all you think about,
work?  No, I need advice of a romantic nature.”

“Oh,” said Charlotte, swallowing a smile.

“You know I’ve been stepping out with Arthur for a while now,
well I think he’s gone off me.” Joan put a hand to her head. “I can’t
understand it; everything had been going so well.  We had even spoken
about possibly having infinite relations.”

Charlotte tried to shake the visions from her head. “Well if
you’ve spoken about intimate relations, then he must be serious.  What
makes you think he’s changed his mind?” Charlotte asked a frowning Joan.

“It’s just a feeling I have. He’s been a bit distant
recently.  Last night he only bought his own bingo ticket, and so I rang
him today, but there was no reply.” Joan stretched forward to pick up her
glass, although it was too weak!

“Maybe he wasn’t in Gran that would be why he didn’t answer.
It doesn’t mean that he’s avoiding you,” Charlotte replied, leaning forward to
touch her grandmother’s arm.

“I suppose so, now you come to mention it. He could have
been out with the dog, because I couldn’t hear it barking.” She took another
large sip.

“But you wouldn’t on the telephone…oh never mind.” 
Exasperated, Charlotte wasn’t sure what advice she could offer, to an
80-year-old woman, about romance.

“Well I can see that you’re not going to be much use, I knew
that I should have gone to see Elizabeth, at least she has been around a bit.”
Joan screwed up her nose in disgust.

“Maybe you’re right,” sighed Charlotte. “I haven’t exactly
been successful in love, have I?  I met an acquaintance of Grant’s this
week.”