Guess Who I Pulled Last Night? (14 page)

“Nothing is the matter. I just felt like talking to you, is
it okay, only I’ve been trying you on and off all night.”

“Yeah, I’ve been to the match. I hate these stupid mid-week
games,” Charlotte allowed a tinkle of laughter to enter her voice.  She
glanced at the T.V. desperate to watch a re-run of the match, but Kerry was
much more important; a barrier was crossed.  “How are you anyway?” 
She reached across for the remote and pressed the record button then
immediately felt ashamed that she could even think about football when Kerry
was on the phone.

“Not bad, Kelvin called around today.  He’s not coming
home for Christmas.”  Kerry’s words hung in the air as, they both thought
about what she had just said.  After a few moment's silence, Kerry
continued.  “I’m going over to Mum’s to spend the day there with them,
well actually I’m going on Christmas Eve.”

Charlotte could sense that Kerry was trying to sound
excited, but she could also sense that she had been crying.  “Well that
will be nice, it’s a step forward.  Will you stay over for Esme’s birthday
too?”

“Hmm, I think so,” Kerry sniffed. “Although we are barely
speaking, so there won’t be many jolly party games.  He’s going for a
drink with a girl from work tomorrow.”  Kerry blurted out.

Charlotte took a sharp intake of breath; the words were like
a final nail in her friend’s marriage.  “What do you mean, like a date?”
she asked anxiously.

“Don’t know, he just said that I should know before anyone
saw them out together.  I felt sick when he told me.”  Kerry’s voice
was barely audible now.

“I can imagine, but I’m sure that there is nothing in
it.”  Charlotte thought that her words of wisdom sounded silly and
empty.  Kelvin was probably trying to prove a point, but Kerry would still
be hurting inside.

“Maybe there is nothing in it now, but what could it lead to
and how could he when we’re still married for goodness sake?” whispered Kerry.

They talked for nearly an hour, skirting around the subject,
but each time coming back to Kelvin and his “date," until Charlotte,
hardly able to keep her eyes open, told Kerry that it was time they both got to
bed.

“Thanks anyway Charlotte, I just needed to get it off my
chest, and the way I’ve been with you recently I wasn’t sure that you would
listen.

“You are one of my best friends Kerry, of course I would
listen.”

“Yes, but I’ve been a bit of a cow recently,” Kerry laughed,
quietly.

“Well it doesn’t matter now,” sighed Charlotte feeling a
little happier, grateful that Kerry realised she was there for her.

As she brushed her teeth, Charlotte wondered about ringing
Kelvin there and then to ask him what he was playing at.  Twenty to one was
a little late though, even for a little toad like Kelvin.  Yes, Kerry had
started all this, and yes his “date” was probably about making Kerry jealous,
but even so, Kelvin Johnson would be getting a phone call tomorrow and be given
a few home truths.

Charlotte woke at 6 a.m. after a fretful night’s
sleep.  She woke on several occasions, Kerry and Kelvin being at the
forefront of her mind.  After getting dressed Charlotte decided to take
the bull by the horns and telephone Kelvin before he left for work.

His mobile only rang out twice before he answered it in a
hushed tone.  “Hello.”

“Kelvin, it’s me Charlotte, what are you whispering for?”
she asked accusingly.

“Oh hi, Kerry’s mum and Esme are still sleeping, so I don’t
want to disturb them.”  His breath became a little sharper as Charlotte
guessed he was going down the stairs. She heard a door shut, and then he spoke
in a more audible tone. “Right, sorry about that, what’s wrong, it’s not Kerry
is it?”

Charlotte’s brow furrowed, of course it was Kerry, what did
he expect after his little bombshell?  “Actually, it is Kerry; how could
you tell her that you are going on a date?”

“I didn’t. I'm not.  It’s a load of us from work, but
Beth and I have to work late so we are meeting everyone at the pub, the pub
where her auntie Irene works, so I didn’t want her telling Kerry that I had
walked in with another woman, that’s all.  Why, does she think I’m going
on a date?”

“Isn’t that what you wanted her to think?”

“No,” Kelvin’s voice was petulant. “Well maybe, oh I don’t
know.”

Charlotte sighed heavily. “Oh grow up Kelvin.  I know
that you are having a bad time, but what a stupid thing to do when you are
trying to save your marriage.”

“I know and I’m sorry.” He sounded suitably chastised.

“Look, I’ll call over tomorrow with Esme’s presents, but in
case we’re not able to talk, I’m asking you now, as a friend and a grown
up.  Be nice to Kerry while she’s with you at Christmas.  She’s your
wife remember who, if I’m not mistaken, is trying to change things.”

“I know, and I understand what you are saying, and I promise
to make an effort.”

With a heavy sigh, Charlotte replaced the receiver, enough
was enough. She had tried her best, and she had Mr Devine to deal with, but
Charlotte knew that no matter what she said she would always be there for them.

Charlotte drove to work almost in a daze, worrying about
everything going on in everyone else’s life, so by the time she got there, she
already had a headache.  Arriving on the car park she noticed with horror
that a Silver Audi R8 was parked there.

“Shit, why can’t he just drop off the face of the earth and
leave me alone!”  She then quickly reapplied her lipstick, and tousled her
hair, mustering up some courage to make her way to the office.

With some relief, she managed to make it to her desk without
bumping into Niall.  She shot Bobby a venomous look when he asked her if
she’d seen the gorgeous car on the car park.

“Yeah, it’s a prick mobile,” she muttered, and then louder;
“It belongs to Mr Devine from Johnson & Cathcart.”  She looked up
sharply as she heard Laura’s snort of derision behind her.  “Is something
wrong Laura?”

“Nothing, I’ve just got a frog in my throat.”  Laura
flashed one of her most winning smiles at Charlotte.

The clattering of a door against a cupboard announced Gwen’s
arrival as Charlotte turned to hang her coat up.

“Charlotte, have you seen that beautiful Irishman with
Paul?” she cried, dropping a ream of time sheets.

Bobby stooped to pick them up for her.  “Huh, more to
the point have you seen his car?”

Gwen nodded confirmation.  “I bet that he’s got a few
bob, seems like a nice young man for you Charlotte.”

Charlotte spun around on her high heels. “NO," she
snapped, a little too vehemently.  "I'm sorry. No thank you Gwen. I
think I can look after my own love life.  Remember your nephew,
Neville?”  Charlotte shuddered as she recalled a disastrous meeting with
Gwen’s nephew.  It had been Gwen’s attempt at matchmaking at her fiftieth
birthday party, and Charlotte still had nightmares about his blue angora tank
top and brown wool trousers.

“Hmm, quite,” Gwen sighed, turning back to her desk.

“Now if we could get some work done,” said Charlotte taking
a sneaky glance outside at the offending silver car.

After about half an hour of trying to look busy, Charlotte
began to feel restless.  She needed to get out of the office, away from
Gwen’s questioning looks each time she sneakily turned over a tarot card in her
drawer.  Charlotte guessed that it was probably hers, and Niall Devine’s
future that Gwen was trying to foresee.

“I’m just going over to the canteen Laura to order some
lunch, if anyone calls take a message would you?”

Laura nodded, and chewed on the pencil in her mouth. 
“I can’t get you in Paul’s office then?” she asked smiling warmly, yet rather
scarily.

“No,” said Charlotte quizzically. “I’m going to the canteen
as I said.” She shook her head and left the office with a furrowed brow.

Once outside the door Charlotte didn’t know what to do, she
didn’t want to order any lunch; she was planning on a quick visit to the
supermarket at lunchtime.  She couldn’t go and see Paul because Devine
would be there.  Anyway, she was frowning too much, and it really wasn’t
very attractive. She decided that she would go and visit the support staff in
their office across the courtyard. Charlotte  pushed the door open,
anxious for some fresh air, when at that moment, the Royal Mail van shot past
on its way out. The regular driver tooted merrily, and waved to Charlotte, ignoring
completely the rather large, rather dirty puddle of water he was just about to
drive through.  It was too late for Charlotte to move out of the way; as
the wheels screeched through the water, it sprayed in her direction.

“Shit!”  Charlotte stared at her sodden white blouse,
plastered to her chest.  Huge droplets of murky water dripped from her
hair onto her face, and she could already feel the dampness from her skirt
seeping through to her stockings.  “Shit, shit, shit, shit!”  Charlotte
wanted to cry as she tuned to return to the office.  She needed to get
herself dry and clean.  Opening the door, she heard Paul’s familiar tone,
followed by an Irish twang.

“Double shit,” she muttered, desperately thinking about what
to do.  She could either go back to the office and risk bumping into them,
or make a run for the canteen, but then she would be in full view of Paul and
Devine through the windows all along the corridor.  She spotted the
enormous round metal bin that stood about seven feet high, and made her
decision – hide.  Flattening herself against it, Charlotte heaved a
massive sigh of relief.

“Phew made it,” she gasped.

“Made what?” Paul’s head appeared around to her hiding
place.

“Paul I didn’t hear you. I thought that you had…oh shit!”
She smiled weakly as she spotted Niall behind him; arms folded with a huge grin
enveloping his stupid, handsome face.

“Charlotte, what are you doing scrabbling behind the bin,
and what have you done?”  Paul nodded towards her chest as Charlotte
glanced down at her heaving bosom.

“Oh…”

“Shit,” Niall finished her sentence for her.

As she gazed down Charlotte remembered that she had worn a
see-through bra under her blouse, and so her erect nipples were showing in
their entire prime.

“Ha, I think that’s what they mean by it being a bit nippy.”
She laughed at her joke, desperate to hide her embarrassment, and her nipples.

“I think that you had better go and sort yourself out, don’t
you?” Paul sighed.  “I was coming to find you to tell you that Niall is
taking us both out to lunch; a celebration on signing the contracts. Would
12:30 give you enough time to get cleaned up?”

Charlotte nodded silently, sucking her bottom lip and
realising that protesting would do no good.

“Look forward to seeing more of you then Miss Price.” 
Niall winked as he walked towards the canteen with Paul, not noticing that
Charlotte was giving him the bird.

Once they were both out of sight, Charlotte slopped her way
back to the office, trying to hide her chest with her hands.  As she
walked in Gwen looked up from her calculator, and gasped loudly, alerting both
Laura and Bobby.

“Oh dear what on earth happened to you?” Gwen asked, as she
emerged from behind her desk with a handful of tissues.  She passed them
to Charlotte

“It’s a long story, but I’ve got to get cleaned up ready to
go to lunch by 12:30.” Charlotte grabbed the tissues, before placing her
spread-eagled hand back over her chest.  “I don’t know what to do.  I
don’t think Paul will take no for an answer, and I’m damn sure Mr Devine won’t,”
she muttered, guessing that Niall would be looking on this as a great
opportunity to get at her.

Gwen suddenly sprang into action. “Right, get that skirt
off, oh okay go into the lavatory first if you must,” she sighed, in response
to the look of horror on Charlotte’s face. “Laura can go into town for you and
buy a new blouse. I'll nip to the canteen and sort your skirt out, good job its
black, by the way, and you can delve into that emergency chest of yours and
start a restoration job on your hair and make-up.”

“How will you get my skirt dry, and clean though?”

“I have my ways.  Did you never do survival skills at
Brownies?”  Charlotte shook her head solemnly.

“What shall I do?” Bobby asked.

“The accounts,” answered Charlotte, reaching behind her desk
for her handbag.  “Here you are Laura, take this money.  If you can
get something like this, but not as see through obviously, that would be great,
size 12 please.  Oh, and there should be enough left over to get everyone
a cake.”

“Right okay, but how am I going to get there.  The next
bus isn’t for half an hour?” Gwen and Charlotte both looked at Bobby.

“Huh, huh, okay, come on, but don’t move the seat, its set
especially at my wife’s leg length.”

Once Laura and Bobby had gone to town, Gwen passed Charlotte
the old communal cardigan that was hanging on the rack.  Everyone had worn
it at some stage when they were cold, and it was now a little worse for wear.

“Take your skirt off and tie this around your waist.”

“Okay,” Charlotte replied, immediately acting on orders.
“There you go.”  She passed her short, wet skirt to Gwen, who instantly
rushed through the door, ready for her part in the operation. 

Charlotte opened her bottom drawer and removed her repair
kit; hair dryer, extra hold up stockings, hair band, comb, perfume, make-up,
deodorant and spare black knickers (leaving behind a spare white
pair).   She gathered everything in her arms and ran to the toilet,
glad to be locked in, away from the danger of prying eyes.  Charlotte
looked in the mirror, amazed at the damage one rather large puddle could
make.  Her blouse was drying in creases. Her hair had succumbed to the
murky water and was now starting to frizz up, while her make-up was very Alice
Cooper.  Dispirited by the horrific sight, Charlotte set about trying to
restore herself to her former glory.  At first, she tried to pull a comb
through her hair, but when she broke three teeth, she decided that tying it
back may be best option.  Once it was tied into a ponytail, Charlotte felt
better, despite almost gouging a piece of her scalp with the comb.  She
had taken out most of the dampness with some paper towels and then plugged in
her hair dryer to dry it through, once it had been scraped back.  Twenty
minutes from start to finish and Charlotte emerged, still wearing the creased
blouse and cardigan, but with an elegant ponytail and perfect make-up. 

Gwen, who was now back from the canteen, was impressed.
“Gosh what a transformation; apart from your clothes of course.  Here you
go,” she said, passing a warm, clean skirt to Charlotte.

Charlotte looked at it in awe. “Gwen it’s brilliant, clean,
dry and not creased.  How on earth did you manage it?” she asked, giving
Gwen a huge hug.

“Well I sponged it down, and popped it in the oven on a low
heat for five minutes and then placed it flat on the table with greaseproof
paper over the top and rolled it with a rolling pin.”  Gwen preened,
obviously exalted that she was the saviour of the day.

“Well it’s fantastic,” laughed Charlotte slipping it back
on.

Just as she was zipping it up, a breathless Laura and Bobby
ran into the room, and collapsed onto chairs.

“H-h-here you are.” Laura, barely able to speak, thrust a
bag a Charlotte. “We just made it,” she gasped, looking up at the clock that
said 12:20.

“Oh thanks guys, you’ve been absolute life savers; you
really have.  Did you get some cakes?” called Charlotte over her shoulder
as she ran back to the toilet to change.

“Huh, oh yes,” said Bobby, “big ones.”

Charlotte waited anxiously for Paul and Niall to “pick her
up” from the office.  She knew that she should really go down to meet them
in Paul’s office, but if she were being honest, she was actually putting off
the moment.

“So where are you going for lunch then?” Gwen asked, wiping
the cream from her hands with a baby wipe.

“Don’t know,” Charlotte replied, somewhat distracted.

“Huh, will you get to ride in the Audi R8 then?” Bobby
asked, still stuffing his face.

“I don’t know, tell me how three of us are supposed to get
in anyway?” Charlotte snapped, nerves getting the better of her.

“Paul could drive and you could sit on Mr Devine’s knee.”

Charlotte shot a murderous glance at Laura, daring her to
make another ridiculous comment.  Just as Laura opened her mouth to take
up the dare, the door swung wide and in glided Mr Devine himself.

“Oh, I am in the right place then?” he asked, flashing a
dazzling smile at everyone, except Charlotte.

Charlotte gasped, as like dogs after a bitch on heat, they
all crowded around him, including Bobby, their big cakes forgotten.

“Well it depends who you are looking for,” gushed Gwen, in
response to Niall’s question.

“And who might you be, lovely young lady?” Niall responded
with a reward of gleaming white teeth.

“Over sincere bastard,” Charlotte muttered to his back,
which had been obviously turned to her.  Suddenly, he twisted his head
around to look at her; Charlotte smiled, not very warmly.  “Just saying
the post over, here is faster.”  She held up an unopened letter; Niall
turned back to Gwen.

After almost ten minutes of idle banter with her staff,
Charlotte had had enough.  She couldn’t watch the big, handsome, Irish
pillock with the beautiful smile, tight bottom, and large hands and well cut
suit any longer; he was distracting her staff!  Charlotte stood up and
walked towards the group huddled together, all the time staring at his strong,
toned back that she could make out through his shirt, now that he had discarded
his jacket.

“Oh,” Niall said, pausing to glance behind him. “It looks
like your boss lady is ready to go.  Sorry for keeping them from working,
but I didn’t think that you would mind me being pleasant; it doesn’t do to
appear contemptuous or rude.  Anyway,” he said without missing a beat, or
even looking at Charlotte to acknowledge her description of him, “I had better
be off; we have a table booked for lunch.”  Without waiting for Charlotte,
Niall strode to the door, waved and was gone, leaving a captured audience
behind.  Charlotte glanced at them, shook her head and ran after him.

Niall and Paul were walking through to reception as
Charlotte trotted up, Paul smiled but Niall did not acknowledge her appearance.

“Are we going in two cars?” Charlotte asked, as they stopped
while Paul spoke to Debbie on reception.

“No,” snapped Niall. “Paul has offered to drive.”  As
they approached the door, he turned to face her.  “Can I suggest that you
move?” He glanced up at the ceiling, nodding at some mistletoe that Debbie had
stuck up there.  “You never know when some over sincere bastard might grab
you for a Christmas kiss.”

Charlotte coloured up, she couldn’t believe that someone
could ignore someone so blatantly, yet know exactly what they were doing or
saying at all times.  As Niall walked out to the car park, Charlotte hung
back to speak to Paul, who had now finished talking with Debbie.