Chapter 21 Charlotte
Charlotte
‘It’s what’s inside the packaging that counts,’ Clive said in a gruff voice, his beard shaking up and down. ‘Where’s the lad?’
Charlotte looked over her shoulder and whistled. Harry came bounding through from the kitchen.
‘Hey, boy,’ Clive said, squatting down and sticking out a hand.
Harry gave Clive’s hand a sniff, then sat back on his haunches and panted while Clive rubbed his back.
‘A match made in heaven,’ Clive said.
‘He seems to like you.’
‘Of course he does. The lad has good taste. I’ll introduce him to couple of my other regulars, see if we can’t get him some friends. Does two to four p.m. work?’
‘That would be lovely. Are you sure you’ll look after him?’
Clive grinned, then leaned forward and gave Harry a quick hug. The dog didn’t seem concerned about being buried in beard, panting louder than ever.
‘I think we’ll get on just fine. I’ll give you my number so you can video call me if you want to check up on him. I have plenty of references if you’re worried.’
‘If Harry is happy, then so am I. Thank you so much. He was used to my grandmother being around the house, so I’m worried about him being alone for so long while I’m at work.’
‘We can start him with a couple of days a week and build up from there if you like,’ Clive said. ‘I’m free most days.’
‘Is this your only job?’
Clive shook his head. ‘Ha, I’d love it if it were. I’m a sound engineer at Brentwell public radio, mostly working evenings.’ He patted his stomach. ‘Sadly, leaning over a mixing desk isn’t getting me the exercise I need. Nothing like walking in the park with some fresh air, is there?’
Charlotte grinned. ‘Definitely not. Are you okay to start Monday? I’ll leave the key under this flowerpot. Can I trust you not to ransack my house?’
Clive grinned. ‘I might look like a Viking, but I don’t act like one.’
‘That’s good to know.’ She rubbed her chin as a sudden idea sprung to mind. ‘I don’t suppose … have you ever impersonated Father Christmas?’
Clive threw back his head and laughed. ‘Honestly, this is the most unique job interview I can remember. Believe it or not, yes.’
Charlotte clapped her hands together. ‘Oh, great. I’m looking for someone to do my class Christmas party. Obviously, I’d ask the real Father Christmas, but I don’t have his number, and he’s probably busy….’
Clive patted his stomach. ‘Ho, ho, ho. Sure. I’d love to help.’
‘Great.’
A motorcycle pulled in just past Charlotte’s house, and she looked up in surprise. Kelly was a little early. She waved as Kelly got off and walked up the garden path. Clive turned and gave Kelly a nod.
‘Well, I’ll be off, then,’ he said. ‘I’ll be round on Monday. Under the flowerpot, right?’
‘That’s right. Thanks so much, Clive.’
Clive said a polite goodbye to Kelly then headed off. By the kerb, he climbed onto a moped that looked small enough to be crushed beneath him, then buzzed off up the street.
Kelly looked at Charlotte, open-mouthed. ‘Is that Harry’s new pet-sitter?’
Charlotte grinned. ‘Terrifying, isn’t he? No one would dare steal Harry with him around. And they got on so well. He seemed like a lovely man.’
Kelly, sporting a freshly charity shop-bought Iron Maiden t-shirt that looked like it had been made in the 1980s and left at the bottom of a wardrobe ever since, gave a slow shake of her head. ‘What a total dish,’ she said. ‘Do you think he’s single?’
Charlotte tried to enjoy their planned Saturday afternoon shopping trip, but while she was keen to spend her time in the knick-knack shops picking up little bits and bobs to use in her class, Kelly wanted to browse the avant-garde fashion boutiques in search of the boots and chains she preferred to wear outside of work.
Usually they would take it in turns, but with Christmas coming up, there was a little urgency in the air.
In the end, they compromised, deciding to break for coffee.
‘Starbucks or Costa?’ Kelly asked.
‘What about something a little less “brandified”?’
‘What, like some grandma corner shop café?’
Charlotte grinned. ‘Yes!’
‘We could walk down to the Oak Leaf in Sycamore Park, but we’d have to brave the snow.
’ Kelly peered out of the shop window. ‘Look, it’s coming down again.
I don’t think I’ve ever seen so much snow in Brentwell.
It’s starting to look like Lapland. All we need is a herd of reindeer roaming the streets. ’
‘Isn’t it great?’ Charlotte said. ‘Hopefully Father Christmas will do a proper flyby.’
‘You’re not going to sit up half the night waiting for him, are you?’
Charlotte winked. ‘Same as every year. Glass of wine in the back garden. Although … it won’t be the same without Grandma.’
‘Look,’ Kelly said, feigning frustration. ‘If I really, really have to—provided I’m not on call like I was last year to deal with all the booze injuries to idiots having too much Christmas Eve sherry—I’ll force myself to stay up with you.’
‘Really?’
‘I want wine and mince pies.’
Charlotte gave her a glove bump. ‘Deal.’
‘And you need to put some sort of heater out there.’
‘I have a blanket.’
‘All right. It’s a friend date. It’ll be after the Christmas festival so it’ll be a nice way to wind down. I don’t share your optimism that we’ll see the big guy, though.’
‘I’ve seen him once. I’m sure I’ll see him again one day.’
Kelly sighed. ‘Oh, Charlotte.’
‘Look, I know you don’t believe me. No one does. But I saw him. I saw him as plain as I can see you now. All right, he was a little further away, and it was dark, but … it was him.’
‘Are we going to get that coffee or not? If not, there’s an awesome goth fashion boutique that just opened up in Tinker’s Arcade.’
‘Ah … I might let you fly solo for that. I’d probably get barred at the door.’
‘That’s fine. You can watch for cops. Hey, what about the wake place?’
‘The…? Oh.’
They had been wandering up the street in the snow, and now found themselves standing almost outside Aunt Marjorie’s Tearoom. There were a couple of tables set up outside, heaters beneath them, parasols over the top to hold off the steadily falling snow.
‘I don’t know….’
‘If it’s got bad memories for you, that’s fine. I mean, it can’t be worse than being at your house. But I suppose, there was the milk incident—’
Charlotte shrugged. ‘It came off with a little water and a scrub.’
‘You don’t look too excited about it.’
‘It’s not that. It’s just … that man who spilled the milk, Jacob … I kind of saw him the other day.’
‘You “saw” him? What exactly does that mean?’
‘I….’ Charlotte shrugged. ‘It was a little awkward.’
‘I think that’s his middle name. Did I tell you I saw him at the hospital a couple of days ago? He was just kind of hanging around in the waiting room. Then I saw him hugging this woman. She was a bit older than him, but … anyway, I shouldn’t gossip.’
Charlotte looked down at her feet. A funny feeling had come over her. ‘Oh, right,’ she said. ‘Probably his girlfriend.’
‘Yes, maybe. Perhaps he likes his women a little older. Never mind, you weren’t interested, were you?’
‘No, of course not.’
Kelly stopped walking. Charlotte continued to stare at her feet until she realised Kelly was watching her. Slowly, she looked up.
‘Oh. My. God. You like him. Of all the people. I mean, literally, like, we live in a town. It’s full of men, and at least ten percent of them are decent looking and probably of those at least half are single, since all people do these days is stare at their phones rather than have relationships … but you choose him?’
‘I didn’t choose him.’
‘We’re going to Aunt Marjorie’s Tearoom right now. We’ll find out if he’s single.’
‘Look, we can’t do that.’
‘We absolutely can.’ Charlotte must have looked aghast because Kelly rolled her eyes and chuckled. ‘We’re not going to directly ask him if he’s single. We’ll be more subtle than that. We’ll look for clues that he is, or ask the manager. If he works there, she might know.’
‘We need to totally not do any of that. Perhaps the Oak Leaf is a better choice. They always have lovely Christmas specials—’
‘Would you like a menu?’ came a voice behind them.
The eponymous Aunt Marjorie had come outside and was peering up at them.
Wearing a snowflake-patterned apron and head scarf, she gave them a kind smile.
‘I have special laminated versions to deal with this blizzard. And free hot fudge cake for anyone willing to sit outside.’
‘Two Christmas specials,’ Kelly said, before Charlotte could even open her mouth to respond. ‘Oh, and ah, how is the, um, what’s his name … the milk spilling guy, is he all right? I mean, after he slipped over?’
Aunt Marjorie looked confused for a moment. ‘Oh, you mean my nephew, Jacob?’
‘Nephew?’
‘He’s fine. It’s his day off today.’
Kelly glanced at Charlotte, who opened her mouth just wide enough to let out the breath she had been holding.
‘That’s too bad,’ Kelly said. ‘I imagine it’s a good day for him to take his girlfriend ice-skating, or you know, whatever else you do in a town not prepared for an Arctic level of snowfall.’
‘His girlfriend?’
‘Yes?’
Aunt Marjorie looked confused. ‘My dear Jacob’s always been single, as far as I know. If he’s got a girlfriend, he kept it quiet. So that was two Christmas specials?’
‘Yes, please.’
As Aunt Marjorie went back inside. Charlotte stared at Kelly. ‘I suppose you learn a certain way to talk to people when you work in a hospital,’ she said. Then, putting her hands together, she said, ‘Hoist! Hoist! I.V. now!’ She grinned. ‘Something like that?’
‘It’s like you’re spying on me with a hidden camera,’ Kelly said. ‘One thing you do learn from dying people is that if you want something, you should just ask. Go straight for it, don’t dance around, hoping it’ll come to you.’
‘I’m not sure that was a good example.’
‘She claims he’s single. I’m not sure. Nephew, though. Didn’t see that coming.’
Charlotte looked down at the table, nice and warm near to the heater. ‘Are we just going to stand here all day?’
The Christmas specials were a variety of coffee piled high with cream and marshmallows, and topped with cinnamon.
Each one came with a gingerbread man, and the promised fudge cake was so good that Charlotte briefly forgot about all her troubles as she watched the snow come down.
Thankfully Kelly decided to change the subject from Charlotte’s ailing love life, and for a while they talked about other things, work, what they were watching on television, some bands Charlotte had never heard of which Kelly was going to see in the new year.
‘My cousin Debbie’s getting married in January, did I tell you that?’
‘Not that I remember.’
‘Really? I meant to. I knew you’d love it. Can you believe she’s marrying a Christmas elf?’
‘What? Like … a real one?’
‘Oh, Charlotte. No, of course not. But that’s his job.
She met him at a Christmas theme park in the Lake District where her best friend runs a café.
They were on-off for a while, as she’s never been keen on settling down, but apparently they decided to form a metal band together, and now they’re getting married. ’
‘Honestly, if I could draw, I would make a picture book of some of the stories you come up with.’
‘It’s completely true—’
‘Well, hello.’
Both of them looked up as a thin shadow fell over them.
James Steamblack loomed over their table, resembling a weird post-modern art version of a tree with a huge black golfing umbrella held over an already wide black hat.
His face, as pale as the snow, was the only part of him that wasn’t completely black, so from certain angles his body seemed to disappear.
‘James!’
The surprise Charlotte felt came with a telling sense of disappointment. There was no disputing that he was handsome, and charming, of course, but there was something about him that … lacked humanity. That he wasn’t real in the same way that other people were. That … Jacob was.
‘My dear Charlotte. I hope I didn’t disturb you. I’m very much looking forward to our date.’ He grinned. ‘I’ll be foregoing the helicopter on this occasion, sadly, for something a little more appropriate for this weather. I’ll pick you up at five p.m. tomorrow.’
Suddenly Charlotte couldn’t think of anything she would rather do less. It would be best to nip it in the bud now, as Grandma might have said, rather than let it pass its sell-by date.
‘James, I—’
‘Five p.m.’
He lifted an arm, and a cape she hadn’t even noticed rippled up to encircle him.
There was a flash and a bang, the smell of fireworks.
She flinched, and when she opened her eyes, the pavement in front of her was empty.
The only trace that James Steamblack had ever been there were a few tracks in the snow.
‘Where on earth did he go?’ Kelly said, turning in her chair to look up the street.
Charlotte said nothing. She could only stare at Aunt Marjorie, who had appeared out of the door just a moment before, perhaps early enough to hear the last of the conversation. Holding a tray in her hands, she looked a little confused, as she said, ‘Can I … um … collect your plates?’