Chapter 17 Charlotte
Charlotte
‘Are you all right?’
Charlotte reached out instinctively as the young man started to lose his balance, catching himself on the door frame. He stared at her hand lingering in the air, then gave a frantic nod.
‘Yes, yes. I’m sorry. I think I … I … stood up a little too quickly.’
‘I’m Charlotte,’ she said. Then, suddenly recognising him from Aunt Marjorie’s Tearoom, she added, ‘Oh, it’s you. The milk guy.’
‘Ah … yes. The … milk.’
He looked so distraught that had he been holding something not fixed to the wall, he might have dropped that too.
‘Um … thank you for putting everything on. It was very nice.’
‘I’m sorry about your shoes,’ he blurted out. ‘It was a terrible accident. I usually go in through the front, but I didn’t want to disturb the customers, and the step was slippery, and … why were you coming out of that back door anyway?’
Charlotte smiled. ‘I wanted to have a look at the courtyard. It looked so pretty in the snow.’
The young man smiled. He watched her, his eyes studying her face. ‘Yes. Yes, it did.’
‘You must be Charlotte,’ came a voice from over his shoulder, and he had another sudden start, spinning around and nearly backing into her as a stocky woman marched up the hall.
In a sweater and jeans, her hair tied into a quick ponytail and one hand extended in greeting, she had a warm smile on her face.
‘Are you planning to leave her out there all night, Jacob?’
Jacob, that was it. Charlotte remembered his name now, even as he blurted out, ‘I’m Jacob,’ at her, a little late, a little awkwardly. Luckily the woman who’d just arrived appeared more grounded in reality.
‘I’m Lisa Cole. I run this place. We spoke on the phone?’
‘Yes, that’s right.’
‘This is Jacob Black, one of our other volunteers. Once he stops staring at you, he’ll show you around.’
‘I’m not—’
Lisa grinned, nudging him in the ribs. ‘You so are.’
‘I was looking at the … the snow.’
Lisa was grinning from ear to ear. ‘Yes, it’s very pretty, isn’t it?’ She chuckled, patted a seemingly numb Jacob on the shoulder, then turned back to Charlotte. ‘Come on in, dear. Jacob will show you where to hang your coat; then we’ll go and meet some of the kids.’
Jacob was slowly defrosting. He turned to Charlotte, gave a nervous smile, then muttered, ‘I’m Jacob,’ again.
‘I’ve got some jobs to do in the office,’ Lisa said, clapping her hands. ‘Charlotte, I’ll leave you in Jacob’s hands.’
Jacob still looked traumatised, so Charlotte gave him a smile that she hoped would put him at ease. Even though it was freezing in the entrance hallway, a line of sweat ran down the side of his face.
‘What’s first?’ she said.
‘Ah, right.’
He led her down the hallway, pointing out various rooms, even when it was quite obvious from signs on the door what they were.
‘Those are the toilets,’ he said. ‘That’s the boys, and that’s the girls.’
‘That’s nice,’ Charlotte said.
‘Anytime you need to … um … go, you don’t need to … um … ask.’
Charlotte grinned. ‘I ought to be writing all this down.’
‘If you need a pen and paper … oh, right. Sorry.’
Charlotte couldn’t help but find his awkwardness charming.
He looked like he didn’t spend much time talking to people, even though he worked in the tearoom.
Sometimes the children could be like that.
They were fine when they were doing a task, but when you asked them a question about something unexpected, they would clam up.
‘There are currently nineteen children here,’ Jacob said. ‘Nine boys and ten girls. The youngest is five. The oldest is fourteen.’
They had reached the entrance to a common room.
Some children were watching TV; others were doing homework at a long bench table.
Three younger kids were playing with Lego in a corner.
The room was comfortable, throw rugs over a functional office carpet, a few posters on the walls for Disney films and local events.
One little boy looked up from a book he was reading and let out a gasp.
‘Oh my God. Ms. Harding’s here.’
‘Hello, Johnson.’
‘No!’ He hid his face behind his book.
Michaella, the other child from her class, peered at her from a doorway across the room, giving her a shy smile.
Both were good kids, Johnson a little boisterous but not out of control.
Michaella didn’t mix well with other kids, and was happiest when she was scribbling in a notebook.
Charlotte gave her a wave, then greeted some other kids whom Jacob introduced.
He led her deeper into the building, pointing out a couple of bedrooms and offices, and was giving her an overview of the utility room when Lisa reappeared and suggested he make Charlotte a coffee.
‘Oh, sure. Sorry.’
She followed him into a small staff kitchen where he put a kettle on to boil.
‘How long have you been coming here?’ she asked as he arranged two mugs, seemingly looking everywhere but at her.
‘A couple of years,’ he said. ‘I didn’t have much to do in the evenings, so I thought I’d help out a bit. I just do this and that. Nothing much really. Play games with the kids, help with their homework. Tidy up, or sometimes help with the cooking. What … um … made you decide to come down?’
‘It was my grandmother’s idea. She thought I wasn’t getting out enough. I mean, I go out on weekends sometimes, but I used to just stay home in the evenings, watch the telly, you know?’
‘Right.’
‘But then she died last week, and it was just me and her dog.’
‘There’s no one else?’
Charlotte lifted an eyebrow. ‘You mean like a lodger or something?’
‘Ah, right. That’s it. A lodger.’
‘No, our house is much too small for that.’
The kettle had boiled. Jacob, his hand visibly shaking, filled two cups with water.
‘Do you take, um … milk?’
Charlotte grinned. ‘Yes. Just a dash. Not a full carton.’ She peered into the cups and gave a little chuckle. ‘And I take coffee too.’
‘Oh, God.’ Jacob set the kettle down and scrambled in a cupboard, fingers emerging with half a jar of Nescafé. Sweat was streaming down his face despite the chill in the room. ‘There, that’s better,’ he said, looking up.
‘Don’t spill the milk,’ Charlotte said, meaning it as a joke, but Jacob let out a choking laugh and almost did so anyway.
He looked relieved to be able to put it back into the fridge without spilling it, then pointed at Charlotte’s cup rather than handing it to her.
She lifted it and took a little sip; for the attention he had given its creation, it tasted pretty good.
The coffee seemed to have a calming effect on Jacob. He took a sip, closed his eyes for a moment, then let out a long sigh.
‘Welcome,’ he said. ‘I don’t think I said that before. We’re very happy that you’re here. It’s tough to find volunteers, especially in the run up to Christmas. It’s such a special time of year, isn’t it?’
‘Yes, it is.’
‘Making sure Father Christmas comes to all these kids, it’s not easy.’
‘Oh, he will,’ Charlotte said. ‘If they’ve been good, of course he will.’
Jacob looked a little uncomfortable. ‘I hope so.’
Charlotte was ready to argue her point a little more, then remembered something Kelly had told her once, about how not everyone shared the same total conviction that she did. Instead, she said, ‘Is there anything in particular that you had planned for this evening?’
‘Well, I just picked up a few old chess sets,’ Jacob said. ‘I thought it might be fun to teach the children to play. It might be a little … um … geeky for you, but—’
‘Oh, I love chess,’ Charlotte said. ‘I used to play with Grandma sometimes. She always beat me. I haven’t played in years, though. Shall we have a quick practice game while we finish our coffee?’
‘A … practice game?’ He shrugged. ‘Sure, why not?’
He went out to fetch a set. Charlotte looked around the kitchen, thinking that it perhaps needed a paint job, or a vase of flowers, or some new drapes over the window.
The units were new enough, although they were functional rather than fashionable, but it really only needed a personal touch to make it more pleasant.
A little like the rest of the place. She could tell the staff were overworked simply by how untidy the rooms were, how sparse the noticeboards, and that the children were watching television rather than engaging in some craft activity together.
And another travesty that she had noticed which needed to be put right as soon as possible was that there were no Christmas decorations up yet.
While she understood that most people preferred to wait until the tenth or eleventh of December, Charlotte was of the view that December was synonymous with Christmas, and therefore it was fine to begin decorating on the stroke of midnight on the 30th of November.
The door opened and Jacob reappeared, still looking flustered, but now carrying a chess set. He set it up on the table between them, Charlotte helping to rearrange the pieces.
‘This little horse goes here, doesn’t it?’ she said, trying to remember everything Grandma had taught her. Like riding a bike, really. Once you were in the seat, you were away.
‘You can be white if you like,’ Jacob said.
‘Okay, sure.’
Charlotte pushed a central pawn a couple of spaces. Jacob frowned, then played his queen’s bishop pawn.
‘Ooh, a Sicilian Defence,’ Charlotte said. ‘This should be interesting.’
‘The moves have names?’ Jacob said.
Charlotte grinned. ‘Of course they do.’