Chapter 23 Charlotte
Charlotte
She couldn’t keep the smile off her face after she ended the call to Jacob.
Had she not recognised the Brentwell code and thought it was someone calling about work, she wouldn’t even have answered it, but now she felt so glad that she had.
The conversation hadn’t exactly been straightforward, but the fact that he had sounded crazily nervous meant he was finding it difficult to talk to her …
and that only meant one thing. Well, two things if he had social anxiety, but she didn’t think he did because he had a normal job—if working in your aunt’s tearoom could be considered normal, but it was a pretty busy and well-known place, and since he dealt with customers that meant he was used to speaking with people and if he had struggled to make any sense when he spoke to her, it meant he was nervous about speaking to her in particular and she had watched enough romantic comedies to know that could only mean one thing—
Deep breath, Charlotte. She stared at herself in the hall mirror.
She had already set out her clothes for school tomorrow, but would those be all right if Jacob came by after work?
What about the light blue blouse instead of the green one?
It might go better with the snow, since it showed no sign of stopping—
The roar of a car engine came from outside, sending Harry into a mania of barking. Charlotte let out a horrified gasp.
Of course, her date. Already having second thoughts, she had thought about cancelling after the call with Jacob, but it was too short-notice, and she didn’t want to be rude.
The lure of James’s money and mystique had lost its appeal already, but he really hadn’t taken no for an answer.
Kelly had suggested she go just to see where he took her; after all, it would take some effort to top a first date in Paris via helicopter, but he was the kind of man who would probably make an effort to try.
Just this last time. If he was as astute as he appeared, he might pick up on her feelings.
If not, she would just have to apologise for wasting his time.
She would even offer to pay, although it might end up maxing out her credit card.
While James could no doubt afford whatever he had planned, she didn’t want to feel like she was exploiting him.
It was a tough dilemma, but now that he was here, she had no more time to think about it. She adjusted the little woolly hat perched on top of her bob, then zipped up her coat, just as a knock came on the door.
James stood there in all his flamboyant glory.
Beneath a black jacket he wore a dark crimson suit that looked tailored and probably cost as much as Charlotte’s car.
Harry sniffed at him, then let out a little growl.
Charlotte nudged the dog back behind her with her foot as James waved a mystical hand, glared at Harry, and muttered, ‘Poof, enjoy the pound,’ so quietly that Charlotte felt sure she wasn’t supposed to hear.
Then, resuming character, he looked up at her and said, ‘Madam, your chariot awaits.’
He stepped aside. Idling at the kerb was a huge silver Rolls Royce. A powerful engine grumbled, thick snow tyres looking ready to tear up the wintery road.
‘Oh, wow.’
It was impossible not to be impressed. It was the kind of car you only saw in magazines.
Charlotte hadn’t even realised such things existed in real life until now, at least not in the lives of average, day-to-day people like herself.
Had she heard piped music playing something by Bryan Adams or Chris Rea she wouldn’t have been at all surprised.
‘Real, my dear. Not an illusion this time. I wish I could say that it was mine, but alas it’s merely a rental. One of only three in the UK. It does come complete with its own footman, in order that we may converse on the journey.’
The “footman” mentioned was now standing outside the driver’s side door under an umbrella, and looked keen to get back inside.
‘It’s quite something, isn’t it?’
‘Not quite unique, but close enough. I keep it on a retainer, in case I need it at short notice.’
‘Do you take lots of girls on dates in it?’
She had meant it as a joke, but James looked momentarily taken aback, the gatehouse of his personality briefly breached. He looked away a moment, as though composing himself, then said, ‘A car such as this has various uses.’
‘I’m sure. Have you ever made it disappear?’
Back in familiar territory, James smiled. ‘Of course. But I could never make it vanish for good. Such a fine thing as this.’ He lifted a hand. ‘Shall we?’
She didn’t want to touch him, but he was wearing gloves, and so was she. She tucked Harry back inside the door, making eyes at the dog as though to apologise, then let James lead her out to the car.
The inside was as plush as the outside was smooth, leather-clad seats with velvet armrests. She settled in as James instructed the driver to leave.
‘Where are we going?’
‘That’s a secret, of course.’
‘I’m happy enough just to drive around for a while.’
‘My dear, that would be too trivial, don’t you think? Like a beautiful package with something frugal inside.’
Charlotte shrugged, unsure what to say. Then, remembering that he had performed a show at the Brentwell Public Theatre the night before, she asked, ‘How did your show go yesterday? A couple of people from work were planning to go.’
James grinned. ‘Sold out, of course. The audience was astounded. Even working a stage as restrictive and basic as that, I was able to pull off illusions that they will never forget.’
‘It sounds nice.’
‘Yes. It was.’
Thinking of changing the subject, or perhaps to try to get something a little more human out of him, she opened her mouth to ask another question, but James was on a roll.
Eyes glazed, arms gesturing, he began to talk her through the show in great detail, but yet not enough to actually give away any of his tricks.
Every other sentence seemed to be about the audience’s rapturous applause, their amazing gazes, their cries of delight.
Charlotte noticed the driver pull up a glass partition screen between them, and hoped they got where they were going soon, so that she could concentrate on food instead.
She had thought they might be going to a restaurant, but instead they drove out of town, coming to a stop by a remote forest road.
‘My dear, we must alight here.’
‘Where are we going?’
‘I have another surprise.’
Charlotte wasn’t all that keen to follow James into a snowy forest, but the driver came with them, seemingly on some other instruction.
Opening a gate while glancing nervously back at the car as though it would get stolen the moment they went out of sight, he led them down a woodland track to a clearing in the trees.
‘Your second chariot of the evening.’
What Charlotte could only describe as a hovercraft decked out to look like a floating Christmas sleigh sat idling beneath a towering stand of pine, illuminated by so many fairy lights it was difficult to look at.
The size of a small car, it had a raised platform with seats, a stepladder set up to allow them to climb up.
Another man sat ready at the controls, wearing the same uniform as the driver of the Rolls Royce.
The two men waved at each other, then the driver headed back up the track to the car while the second climbed down from the hovercraft-sleigh to help James and Charlotte up.
As they settled into their seats, he turned and smiled.
‘Welcome,’ he said. ‘Would you like any particular music to listen to during the ride?’
Charlotte, suitably overawed enough to at least suppress any feelings of guilt, nodded. ‘Do you have Jingle Bells?’
James’s face soured. ‘Can’t you think of something else? Something more romantic?’
‘It’s my favourite song.’
‘Well, I suppose.’ James’s ruffled feathers settled back into place. ‘Jingle Bells it is.’
The driver pressed a button and the song began, coming up from a speaker below their feet. James forced a smile as Charlotte patted her gloves together and swayed in time to the music.
‘Off we go,’ the driver said.
The hovercraft-sleigh bounced along a snowy track, heading deep into the forest. Charlotte had absolutely no clue where they were, but after about fifteen minutes she saw lights through the trees, and they emerged in a clearing encircled by fairy lights with a log cabin standing in the centre.
Two men in chef’s outfits stood outside on a veranda, waving as they approached.
‘A little magic in the middle of the forest,’ James said, as the hovercraft-sleigh pulled up outside the cabin and the driver got down. He set up the stepladder and helped them down.
‘This is incredible,’ Charlotte said. ‘Did you arrange all of this yourself?’
‘Of course,’ James said. Then, raising a hand into the air, he clicked his fingers and a circle of fireworks rose from the trees all around them, exploding in the clear sky above.
Charlotte flinched, but James put out his other hand and wrapped his cape around her.
With a grin, he said, ‘And now … shall we eat?’
The cabin contained a single table. The two chefs brought out a lengthy course of complex dishes, explaining each one in exquisite detail.
Charlotte hadn’t realised there was so much to know about the way a scallop was cooked or about which mountain a sprig of parsley had been grown on, but each time James felt the need to ask additional questions, so that by the time they were able to eat, Charlotte had to force herself not to consume whatever lonely morsel was positioned somewhere on each oversized plate in a couple of frantic bites.
James, who perhaps had done what she wished she had, and eaten a sandwich before coming out, kept up a relentless monologue the whole way through, talking about places he had been, famous people he had met, crowds he had wooed.