46. Charlie
46
CHARLIE
‘You total fucking idiot, Charlie,’ Ben says.
It’s Saturday night and he’s come round to the flat for a curry. Merlin has been threatening all day to knock up his signature dish – ‘eel bhuna’ – and having had the misfortune of tasting said dish once before, I decided I’d get in ahead of him and offer to order us a takeaway instead. I roped in Ben too – mainly because I’m in dire need of some life advice, and Merlin’s brand of spaced-out pseudo-philosophy probably isn’t going to cut it.
The three of us have just tucked into our poppadoms, and they’re both now gawping at me through mouthfuls of mango chutney as I tell them about what happened with Nell. Our amazing night together – and then her seeing the photos of Daphne and me the next morning. It’s at this point in the conversation that Ben brands me a ‘total fucking idiot’.
‘Why am I?’ I ask, slightly affronted.
He cracks another poppadom. ‘Why the hell did you just leave those photos lying around?’
‘They weren’t lying around – they were in the pocket of a random jacket!’ I shout. ‘What were the chances of her finding them in there?’
Ben shakes his head. ‘No matter what the chances were, it wasn’t worth the risk.’
‘You should have burned them. Or –’ Merlin nods at the sleeping snake in the corner of the room – ‘put them in Jasper’s tank for safekeeping.’
I open my mouth to argue with them. But I can’t. They’re right. I am a total fucking idiot for leaving those photos lying around. It’s not like I wanted to keep them or anything. The simple truth is, I forgot I even had them. I was so pissed by the time we left the bar that night, and when I got home I dumped the jacket on my bedroom floor and haven’t worn it since.
When Nell came into that same bedroom three nights ago, it should have clicked somewhere in my brain that the photos were still in there, lying hidden like landmines, ready to explode everything. But it didn’t. Because, honestly, at that moment, all I could think about was Nell.
I dunk an onion bhaji in mint sauce and say, ‘I haven’t even told you the worst part yet.’
Ben splutters on his beer. ‘It gets worse?’
I swallow my food and wince as I admit it. ‘Just before we kissed for the first time, she asked me if anything had ever happened between me and Daphne.’
Ben groans. ‘And I’m guessing you said . . .’
‘No.’
‘When, actually, you had kissed her in that photo booth,’ Merlin points out.
‘Yes, thank you for clarifying, Merlin,’ I snap.
‘You don’t know for sure that she actually saw the photos,’ Ben says.
‘What other reason could she possibly have for walking out like that?’ I shoot back.
Merlin nods at the snake tank again. ‘Got freaked out by Jasper, maybe? He can have that effect on people.’
‘Seeing a snake in my living room is not enough of a reason for her to completely blank me after the night we had.’
Merlin shrugs and slopes off to the kitchen to get more beers. Ben drains the rest of his Red Stripe and gives me a sad smile. ‘So, how was it at work these past couple of days? Did you even speak to her?’
‘Didn’t go in,’ I mumble. ‘I called in sick Thursday and Friday. I just couldn’t face seeing her. Or any of the other writers, after I screwed up that Max Ribiero interview.’ I dunk another bhaji and sigh. ‘To be honest, I’m thinking of just sacking off this final week too. I mean, what’s the point?’
‘You’re not even going to finish the internship?’ Ben says, frowning. ‘What if there’s a job at the end of it?’
‘I think there is a job, actually,’ I reply, remembering that phone call from Mum.
‘Well, there you go.’
‘But I don’t know if this is even what I want to do, Ben!’ I protest. ‘I have literally no idea what I want to do. I’m not good at anything.’ I drain my beer and groan. ‘I wish I was like you, man. You always wanted to be a vet, and now you’re going to be a vet. Simple.’
He swallows his forkful of curry. ‘I didn’t always want to be a vet.’
I blink and stare at him. ‘What?’
He shrugs. ‘I didn’t always want to be a vet. When we left school I didn’t know what I wanted to do either. But I knew Dad would stress at me if I didn’t settle on something straight away. You know what he’s like – his work ethic is ridiculous. And maybe I got that from him too – I guess I wanted something with some stability. But I wish I could have taken a couple of years and tried out a few other things.’ He smiles at me. ‘To be honest, I was always kind of jealous of you, getting to try all those different jobs, your mum never putting pressure on you to knuckle down. She’s always just seemed cool with you . . . being you.’
I scratch my head, dumbfounded. ‘How . . . how am I only just finding all this out now?’
‘You never asked,’ he says, with a smile.
I stare down into the curry. ‘Fuck, Ben. Sorry.’
‘S’all right, mate. I’m OK with being a vet. I think it’ll be good – constantly having my hand up a sheep’s arse aside.’ I laugh, but he wrinkles his brow. ‘We just need to figure out what you want to do. You’ve had so many bloody jobs over the past few years. Which ones have you actually enjoyed? Which has made you happiest?’
I think about it for a moment. Since leaving uni, as well as trying to sweet-talk people into the Barkley Art Gallery, I’ve also done telesales, waiting tables and factory work. I even had a brief stint at the local police station, making up the numbers in criminal line-ups. I’m not especially keen on doing any of those things for the rest of my life – particularly not the line-up one, after an old lady mistakenly identified me as having robbed the NatWest on Peckham High Street.
‘I honestly think the happiest I’ve been was teaching at that kids’ camp in my gap year,’ I tell Ben. Memories of it flood back suddenly: it was only a month, but I loved it. Really loved it. Giving classes on everything from archery to team building, trying to find ways to get the kids to engage with whatever we were doing that day. Weirdly, I was reminded of it on that day with Nell’s brother. Talking to him really made me feel like I was doing something good. Maybe because I hated school so much, the idea of making sure other kids didn’t appealed to me.
Ben nods. ‘Something to think about there, maybe . . .’
‘Maybe,’ I mumble. It feels too huge to get into now though. ‘I still don’t know what I’m going to do about Nell,’ I add glumly. ‘It’s all just totally fucked beyond repair.’
Ben scoffs as he mops up his curry sauce with a chunk of naan bread. ‘It’s not beyond repair, mate.’ He swallows the bread and looks at me. ‘Charlie, I’ve known you a long time, and I’ve heard you talk about a lot of girls. But I’ve never heard you talk about any girl this way.’
I smile. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever really felt this way about any girl before. I really can’t stop thinking about her, Ben. Ever since we first met, I haven’t been able to.’
Ben rolls his eyes. ‘So isn’t it at least worth a shot at making things right?’
‘Of course. But how?’
He tears off another piece of naan. ‘Go in on Monday and apologise. Tell her you were a total fucking idiot.’