Chapter 15 Charlotte
Charlotte
There was a lot of catching up to do at school, but at least it felt good to be back doing what she knew best. The kids had missed her, and to her surprise, had made her a condolences card.
While some of the messages perhaps meant better than they sounded—‘don’t worry, Miss, you’re way too young to die too’, ‘my grandma smells, so you can air the house out now’, ‘if she left you any money, how about a class trip to Alton Towers?’—the simple act of it sent her into floods of tears, to the point where she had to send little Katie Lincoln off to Amy Clairmont’s class next door in search of tissues.
There was also a card from the other teachers and a large bouquet of flowers.
Charlotte felt compelled to say something at the lunchtime meeting, but only managed to burst into tears again.
With Jennifer patting her on the shoulder and Amy holding another box of tissues ready, she told them how she was thankful for their support and that she hoped everyone would have a good Christmas.
Then it was back to playing catch-up with her class’s Christmas preparations.
December might be well underway, but she promised the kids would get to do what every kid dreamed of with their Advent calendars: open more than one day at a time.
To whoops and cheers she announced that if they didn’t finish preparing until Friday, they would have to open the first four days all in one go. A true luxury.
In the last lesson of the day, they set up the tree in the corner, then put an elf on a shelf in the room, one which Charlotte would move each evening before going home for the kids to hunt for the next morning.
The kids, of course, were banned from touching it, after one boy from her class last year dropped it down the toilet.
As the kids filed out at the end of her first day back, Charlotte breathed a sigh of relief that she had simply been able to survive.
So much had changed since her last day yet so much was also the same: old Mr. Wilson still couldn’t smile, Becky still kept pulling Katie’s hair, Reggie kept running up to Bennie every time he wanted to fart, and Billy Toad had a fresh hole in the sole of his shoe.
After tidying up the scattered chairs and picking up any dropped stationery before the cleaners came through and hoovered everything up, she headed back to her desk in the staffroom.
There was a note on her desk from Maud to call Lisa Cole at Brentwell Children’s Home, so she grabbed a coffee then called back. Lisa answered on the second ring.
‘Hello, this is Charlotte Harding from Brentwell Primary. Is that Mrs. Cole?’
‘Oh, hello. Please just call me Lisa. You called me a couple of weeks ago about doing some volunteering at the children’s home.’
Charlotte clicked her fingers. ‘Oh, that’s right, I did. Wow, I completely forgot. I’m afraid my grandmother just died last week. It completely threw me.’
‘I’m so sorry to hear that. If this isn’t a good time, I’d be happy to speak to you again on a different day, or if you’ve got too much on your plate—’
Charlotte grinned. ‘It’s Christmas. There’s no such thing as too much on your plate, not at this time of the year, is there?’
‘Well, I suppose not.’
‘I’d love to volunteer. A couple of things, though. My grandmother had a dog which I’m solely responsible for. I’m trying to figure out someone to pet-sit him from time to time, but I’d be keen to bring him with me, if that’s all right.’
‘Oh, sure. As long as he’s not something big and scary.’
‘He’s a springer spaniel.’
‘Oh, like that dog in Lady and the Tramp?’
‘No, that’s a King Charles. He’s kind of like that, but a bit bigger.’
‘Oh, right. I’m afraid I’m more of a cat person. As long as he’s not likely to bite anyone, that would be lovely.’
‘No, he doesn’t bite. He likes to chase tennis balls.’
‘I’m sure the kids will love him.’
‘Great. When would be a good time?’
‘Well, we have a couple of other volunteers who come in tonight, just to play games with the kids. If you’re free?’
‘Ah … tonight I have something on. How about tomorrow?’
‘Great. You can meet some of the kids and generally have a look around. I understand you already know Michaella and Johnson?’
‘Yes, they’re both in my class. It will probably horrify them to see me outside of class.’
‘See the human behind the teacher mask?’
‘Something like that. Okay, then, I’ll pop over tomorrow evening. Is there anything in particular that volunteering entails?’
‘Nothing really. The kids we have here come from a variety of backgrounds. They get looked after financially by the government, but what they need more than anything is attention and love. People willing to prove to them that they’re worth something, that society doesn’t want them to fall through the cracks. ’
Charlotte thanked Lisa and hung up. She let out a sigh, then smiled and flicked a strand of hair out of her eyes.
It felt good to be doing something positive.
Grandma’s death had left a void, but if she could fill it by being around people that needed her, it would help to ease the pain of her passing.
Soon after, she headed for home. The roads had been cleared of snow, but it was still slow-going, and she got home later than she would have liked.
Harry was delighted to see her, and she took the dog for a quick walk around Sycamore Park in the snow.
While not surprisingly he hadn’t been quite his usual self since Grandma’s passing, there was something about snow that seemed to bring the craziness out in dogs, and Harry was no exception, making circles in the snow, chasing flurries blown from the leafless trees and kicking the stuff all over Charlotte’s coat.
She took him home, gave him some food, then headed back out.
The cold had really kicked in, and it was fully dark as she walked the snowy streets back to Sycamore Park.
The streetlights were on, but many were laden with snow, their glow dimmed, obscured.
Even so, the blanket of white across the gentle knoll at the park’s centre, and the glittering ice that covered half of the duck pond gave it a magical feel.
The plaza outside the theatre had been cleared. Charlotte walked to the centre, looking around for James Steamblack, but aside from an elderly dog walker near the closed Oak Leaf Café, she was alone.
She checked her watch. Ten minutes early.
Would the magician even show up, or was this another one of his tricks?
She had been feeling nervous all day, and had played out the scenario of standing him up a dozen times over.
It didn’t feel right to be going on a date the day after Grandma’s wake, but at the same time it would cheer her up, and she knew without a shadow of a doubt that Grandma would not only have encouraged her, but actually applauded her.
Life was for living, Grandma always said. You could be boring when you were dead.
An owl hooted, and she heard the scamper of footsteps, turning sharply as an urban fox bounded across the nearest path and up the slope of the park’s central grassy knoll, leaving a trail of prints in the snow behind it.
The sky had cleared, the moon coming out, and for a moment, as the fox reached the peak of the hill, it was silhouetted against the moonlit sky.
Charlotte held her breath, wondering if it would raise its head and give a dramatic howl, but instead it just poked around in the snow and then darted away over the crest of the hill.
Disappointed, Charlotte turned back towards the theatre, letting out a gasp of fright at the towering figure looming over her.
Lowering a wide-brimmed hat and tipping it in her direction, James Steamblack gave a neat bow.
Looking up, the moon over Charlotte’s shoulder turned his face into a ghostly visage.
Narrow lips thinned in a wide, almost sinister smile, and Charlotte felt a momentary sense of horror before his features softened, and the magician who had charmed her reappeared out of the montage of late-night horror film villains he had briefly become.
‘Ah, Charlotte, my dear. For a moment you must have thought I had stood you up.’
‘Well, with this snow, I imagine the roads are troublesome,’ she managed to say, sounding breathless.
‘Maybe to the common man,’ he said. ‘However, as you know, I am a magician, and we walk along different avenues to most.’
His arms rose into the air. Charlotte, who had become aware of a low droning in the background, could only stare in astonishment as the lights of a little helicopter appeared above the roof of the theatre and slowly came down to land in the plaza in front of the theatre entrance.
Charlotte knew nothing about helicopters, but it looked like one of the tiny ones that police used for checking traffic or chasing fugitives.
She had never been in one before, the very thought of it made her feel sick, but James was grinning from ear to ear again as though the top half of his head might suddenly come sliding off.
‘My dear,’ he said with a grand flourish of his hands, ‘your chariot awaits.’
‘Where on earth are we going?’ she asked. ‘I thought you were taking me out for dinner.’
‘I am,’ he said. ‘In Paris.’
Two hours later, they were sitting on a private rooftop courtyard of a vintage café near the Sacré-Coeur which had a panoramic view of Paris.
In the distance, the Eiffel Tower looked like a giant lighthouse, a spotlight slowly revolving over the city, flashing over them every few minutes.
Two paraffin heaters and a heated parasol kept them warm.
In the corner, a violinist sat on a stool, playing a mournful tune.
James, who had entertained her throughout the whole journey with a variety of card tricks, clicked his fingers, making first a coin disappear, then a waiter appear through a door that led downstairs.