Guess Who I Pulled Last Night? (25 page)

“He’s totally blameless then, this husband of yours?” Owen
asked, shaking his head.  “Because all you’ve done up to now is to tell me
what you’ve done wrong.”  He took another biscuit and broke it in two
before putting half of it into his mouth.

“Well I suppose he was, err is really.  It was me that
went all funny; he tried to support me and only left because he thought that it
would push me into thinking about what I was doing to our marriage.”  Kerry
sat back down again. She dropped her head to avoid Owen’s intense gaze.

“Yeah well, you want to ask yourself why you went like that
in the first place,” he replied finishing off the other half of his biscuit.

“So, what about you?” Kerry asked.  “Are you ready to
tell me whether you live here all the time, or are just visiting?”

He smiled at her remembering their first conversation. 
“Dunno really, I don’t want to stay, but I’ve nowhere else to go.”  He
looked sad as he stared at his tea cup.

“You’ve no family of your own then, not married or
anything?” she probed.

Owen shook his head; his dark curls brushing against his
shoulders.  “Nope, I did have someone special once, well I thought that
she was, but I was wrong there.  I tell you what, they all leave you in
the end.”

The uncomfortable silence that followed was interrupted by a
short knock at the door; Kerry didn’t have a chance to call them in before Mrs
Llewellyn was inside.

“Sorry to interrupt but I think that your dad wants you
Owen.”   Her face was strangely anxious as she looked to her
son. 

Owen suddenly became sullen.  “Oh alright I’m coming,
perhaps see you tomorrow Kerry.”

“I’m sure that Mrs Johnson doesn’t want you pestering her
every day,” commented his mother.

“Well that’s up to her isn’t it?”  Owen pushed past Mrs
Llewellyn and stormed across the yard.

“I mean it Mrs Johnson; you don’t want him hanging around
all the time.  I don’t want to interfere, but you being on your own like,
well people might talk, you know?”  Mrs Llewellyn looked slightly
uncomfortable as she played with the edge of her pinny.

“No, I don’t really know what you mean.  There is
nothing going on with me and Owen, we just have a cup of tea together that’s
all.”  Kerry was fuming that she would presume such a thing.

“I know, but he may start to think that there’s more to
it.  He may not look like it, but he’s very sensitive and gets attached to
people easily,” said the older woman.

Kerry was amazed at what she was hearing, as far as she was concerned
there would never be anything but friendship between her and Owen.  Yes,
he was very attractive, but she was also wary of him, and she was still
married; Kelvin may not believe in their vows, but she did.  Her heart
sank when she thought of him, he hadn’t really entered her head for the last
few days, but only because she had forced herself to think of other
things.  She shook her head, trying to blow the pictures of him away, and
turned once more to Mrs Llewellyn.

“Mrs Llewellyn, Owen is perfectly aware about the fact that
I am not interested in any form of attachment.  We are friends nothing
more, and he knows that,” she started to speak more softly now, conscious Mrs
Llewellyn was only looking out for her son.  “I promise you that no one is
going to get hurt.”

Mrs Llewellyn took Kerry’s hand in hers.  “I hope not
dear. I really do.  I’m sorry if you feel that I spoke out of turn, it’s
just that I worry, you know?”  Kerry nodded as the elderly woman turned to
leave.  “Anyway, you let me know if you need anything, okay dear.” 
Mrs Llewellyn called over her shoulder.

“I will do Mrs Llewellyn, bye.”

When she had gone Kerry shut and bolted the door behind her,
feeling as though she had been well and truly warned off.

The morning had arrived with a dusting of snow on the paths
and roads, soon turning to sludge, as people started to make their way to
work.  Charlotte had told Paul all about her lunch date with Niall, and he
had insisted on her taking the day off.  She was owed one or two anyway. 
She was just finishing off her breakfast when she heard the letterbox announce
the arrival of the post.

“Come on Petula, shall we see what horrible bills have
arrived today then?”  She bent down and picked up the letters that had
landed on the hall floor.  “Two junk mail and oh, a proper letter…” her
voice trailed off as she recognised the writing.

Ripping open the envelope, Charlotte sat on the stairs,
anxious for any news of Kerry and Esme.

Dear Charlotte,

What can I say, except that I’m sorry for not getting in
touch sooner to let you know that we’re okay?  Well anyway, we are
alright, both of us.  Obviously, I don’t want to tell you where we are
because I’ve still got things to deal with in my head, but when the time is
right, we’ll come home.  I hate to put this on to you, but could you let
Kelvin know that we are fine, and that Esme sends him a big kiss.  I’ve
enclosed letters for my mum and Bets, so if you could pass them on, I’d be
really grateful.  I hope that you are all fine and not worrying about us
too much.  We are staying in a really nice place, with some lovely people
around us.  It’s strange, but it’s a lot like being a kid again and in
some ways it’s quite exciting, if only the circumstances of being here were
different.  I just wish I could get the picture of Kelvin and that woman
out of my head.  I suppose she’s moved into my house, or at least stays
there a lot, and I couldn’t really handle seeing that, so think that it’s best
to stay away for a while.

I’ll write again soon,

Lots of love and kisses, Kerry and Esme xxx

Charlotte’s tears smudged the writing as they dropped on to
the paper.  Why hadn’t she rung, then she’d find out the truth and could
come home?  There was no other woman, Kelvin loved her and was spending
every spare minute trying to find them both; Kerry and Kelvin were both
heartbroken and for no reason.  Charlotte quickly turned over the
envelope, hoping that the postmark may give an idea as to where Kerry was, but
it was smudged and indecipherable.  She went through to the lounge and
called Kelvin.  She told him about the letter, and the postmark, dashing
his hopes of any clues.  He asked her to read it out, twice, but when she
finished the second time, there was silence on the line.

“Kelvin, are you still there?” she asked worriedly.

“Yeah, I just can’t believe what a mess I’ve made of
things.  If only I’d gone home when she asked me to, or at least told her
about Sally.  We would all be at home together, instead she could be
anywhere, thinking that I’m was shacked up with someone else,” he replied, his
voice breaking as he fought back the tears.

“Listen,” Charlotte soothed.  “I’ll drop the letter off
and maybe you and Sheila can pick something up from it, how does that
sound?”  Charlotte didn’t think that they would find any clues, but wanted
to believe that it would at least give Kelvin some hope.

“Thanks Charlotte, that’d be great.  Anyway, what are
you doing at home this time for a morning, you are normally well on your way to
work by now?” he asked a little more brightly.

Charlotte glanced at her watch as her stomach
tightened.  “Oh err, dentist appointment.”

It was twenty five past twelve and Charlotte was hanging
around in a card shop, keeping one eye on the city clock that she could see
clearly from her hideaway.  There was no way that she was going to be
early, she wanted Niall to think that she wasn’t coming, and then she would
appear, maybe just as he was about to leave.  After much consultation with
Bets, the previous evening, they had agreed on Bets' choice of skinny jeans,
black fine knitted jumper and knee-high boots, and her leather jacket. 
Charlotte had thought about a quick visit to the hairdresser, but had decided
against it, going for the more tousled, just got out of bed look, rather than
the carefully arranged curls and waves that Lance would have done.  She
quickly looked at herself in the glass door, fairly happy with her appearance.
She applied some more beige lip gloss and ruffled her hair.  Suddenly, her
heart missed a beat before it jumped into her mouth, because down the street,
underneath the clock, was Niall.  He looked gorgeous as he nervously
glanced at his watch and then the clock.  He was dressed in jeans, a thick
sweater, leather jacket and baseball cap.  She wanted to run up him and
bury herself in his arms, but she didn’t. She strode purposefully towards him,
all thoughts of false tardiness disappearing. 

As she approached him, he had his back to her, so Charlotte
tapped him gently on the shoulder, but not before she gazed at him for a few
moments.

“Hiya,” she said, coughing to hide the quiver in her voice.

As soon as he turned around she turned as red as the post
box stood on the nearby corner.  Charlotte hadn’t really known how he
would greet her. She hadn’t expected a passionate kiss or anything, but she had
hoped that there would be a smile, and she was not disappointed.

“Howyer,” he gasped, beaming broadly, before a shadow passed
over his face.  “Err, did you have a good Christmas?” he asked hesitantly. 

Charlotte nodded silently, unable to speak.  Niall took
her silence to be a show of contempt; little did he know how excited she was to
see him.

“Where do you fancy for lunch, or would you just prefer a
coffee?”

Charlotte nodded mutely once more.  He’ll think that
I’ve gone mad, she thought, unless I speak to him soon.  Niall smiled at
her meekly and walked off in front of her, down towards the river; Charlotte
trailed after him, her boots slipping in the sludge.  She successfully
made it to a little coffee shop and followed him to a table.  They sat
down and a short, stout woman with a hairy wart on her chin, plonked a menu in
front of them.  They sat in silence for a few moments until Niall spoke,
without lifting his head.

“We can just stay here for coffee, and then perhaps go for
lunch later, give you time to decide what you would like to eat.”

Charlotte nodded once more and now smiled; she couldn’t
stand the dejected look on his face and just wanted him to know that she wasn’t
going to kill him.  Niall’s shoulders relaxed, and he removed his cap and
rubbed a hand across his head.

“Not very nice weather is it?” he said.

“No, it’s been really nasty since Christmas,” she replied,
looking up at the warty woman who was now standing beside their table.

“Coffee?” Niall asked. Charlotte nodded in response. 
“Make that two please.”  The warty woman walked away without saying
anything.

After a few minutes, she came back and placed two large
coffee cups on the table.  There was more silence while they both
attempted to drink the boiling hot liquid, rather than make conversation. 
In time Niall put his coffee down and looked at her, straight into her
eyes.  Charlotte gulped hard as she felt herself getting lost in his eyes.

“I hope that you don’t mind me getting in touch,” his voice
quivered slightly, “but, I really do want to apologise for the day we went to
lunch, but…” he started, but Charlotte interrupted him.

“You don’t have to explain. I understand.  We were both
a bit drunk and got a little carried away, no problem.”  She took another
sip from her coffee, almost burning her top lip.

“No,” Niall exclaimed.  “That’s not how it is, how it
was.  I did and still do find you very attractive, and have never done
anything in alcohol that I wouldn’t do sober.”

“But you omitted to tell me that you had a fiancée, so I
take it the drink affected your memory then?”

Niall dropped his head.  “I know that I should have
told you about Ingrid.”  He leaned across, and took her hand in his. 
“I’m sorry. I truly am.”

Charlotte almost shouted in fright, she really hadn’t
expected any contact of any kind.  She held back her scream, and allowed
herself to relax under his touch.

“Look Niall, it doesn’t matter. It's not like there was
anything going on between us; well except that one kiss of course.” 
Charlotte's voice trailed off as she went back to her coffee.

“But what a kiss,” Niall sighed, echoing her own thoughts.
"I know that we practically hated each other a couple of hours before, but
I should have told you.  I have not at any time done anything
inappropriate before, and would never have considered it, but you, well you…”
He stopped and shook his head.

“What, I what?” she enquired.

“Well you are different. You've battered my head.”

“Sorry?” Charlotte was perplexed by his answer.

“You make me do things that I would never do, like be rude
to people, like I have been to you.  I wouldn't openly flirt with
someone’s staff to make them jealous.  As for getting drunk and intending to
leave my car overnight, just so I had the courage to kiss someone, well it’s
just not something that I would do; I love that car!”

Charlotte started to giggle as Niall grinned widely at
her.  “You didn’t drink all that lager just to kiss me. You liked the
taste.”

“Well okay,” he replied, “perhaps it didn’t start off that
way, but it did kind of push me into doing something that I was dying to do
anyway.”

“I suppose that you had a similar effect on me.”  Niall
looked at her quizzically.  “You don’t think that I would normally kiss a
client do you?” she asked.

Niall shook his head and leaned further forward, holding her
hand tighter he whispered into her ear.  “We need to sort this out
properly, shall we go somewhere quieter?”

Charlotte pulled her hand away, for all every bone in her
body was screaming, 'take me now right here on this table, even with the warty
woman watching'; she was not about to become anyone’s bit on the side, someone
who could be picked up and put down whenever he felt like it.

“Just a minute,” she hissed, in a hushed tone.  “Don’t
think that I’m going to fall at your feet and become your piece on the side.”

Niall took her hand again, a hurt look on his face. 
“Please Charlotte, I honestly didn’t mean that.  I mean, I think that we
should go back to my house for lunch, to talk about things.  I for one
can’t leave it like this.  I haven’t stopped thinking about you since
Christmas, so this is too important to discuss in a cramped café, over weak
coffee, don’t you think?”

Charlotte looked at him dolefully, and nodded her head
slowly.  “Okay, but why your house, why not a restaurant?” she
asked.  “And do you think that’s wise, you know; your fiancée?”

Niall smiled half-heartedly.  “We’ll be alone, don’t
worry.  Look we need to be somewhere quiet; we have a lot to talk
about.  Plus I make a mean beans on toast.”  Now he smiled broadly,
lighting up his eyes.

“Okay, but lunch is all, okay,” said Charlotte, desperate to
feel his lips on hers.

“I promise that I won’t put you in that position, I swear,”
he replied, touching her hand lightly.

“Okay, let’s go then.”  Charlotte knew that they had to
go now, before her nerve went, and she decided to go home instead.

“I’m parked at the multi-storey, what about you?”

“The same, I’ll follow you in my car then.”

Niall nodded as he counted some money out and place it on
the table.  “Right let’s go then.”

Charlotte followed Niall out of the coffee shop, and slipped
past him as he held the door open for her.  They walked to the car park in
silence, just glancing occasionally at each other.  Charlotte considered
ringing Tom, as she was supposed to be meeting him and his mates tonight for a
drink.  She wanted to warn him that she may be late, or not even make it,
but that could be tempting fate.  As they reached their cars Charlotte had
decided against calling Tom, of course she would be there, nothing was going to
happen between her and Niall; at least not while he had a fiancée.

Half an hour after leaving Chester Charlotte pulled up
behind Niall on a gravelled driveway outside a beautiful cottage, she smiled as
she noticed that the door was Manchester City blue, surrounded by burnt orange
ivy.  As Niall went into the house, leaving the door open, Charlotte
stayed inside the car, contemplating what could be about to happen
inside.  She knew that she didn’t want to become 'the other woman,' but
she also knew how she felt about Niall.  She had no right to ask him to
leave Ingrid, which she wouldn’t anyway.  She and Niall didn’t know each
other, and the attraction that they felt at the moment could easily turn to
nothing in a few weeks’ time.  However, she had to admit, he had really
got inside her head, and maybe even her heart, and Charlotte didn’t think that
she could cope just being friends.

“God, why is life so complicated?” she said aloud, as she
reached for her bag. 

As Charlotte was locking the car, Niall came to the front
door, beckoning her in.  “I wondered where you were,” he said as Charlotte
sidled past him, into his and Ingrid’s home.  “I’ve put the beans on.”

Charlotte shivered as her breast accidentally brushed
against his arm.  She hovered in the doorway to the lounge, not sure
whether to go through or not.

“Go through,” said Niall, placing his hand in the small of
her back.

Charlotte’s body quivered again.  “Are you sure?”

Niall read her mind.  “She’s not here and won’t arrive
on us unannounced.”

Charlotte smiled and feeling slightly easier walked through
to the lounge.  She hadn’t known what to expect the inside of the cottage
to be like, but it was delightful.  Suddenly, she felt quite angry; Ingrid
obviously had good taste and an eye for interior design.  This was
something else to hate her for.  The long lounge diner was furnished
tastefully, with what looked to be expensive furniture, while the walls were
painted in rich buttermilk.  Two big comfy sofas, either side of the huge
open fire, injected a shot of aubergine colour into the room.  Charlotte’s
eyes moved across the room and rested on the corner, bringing a smile to her
lips; boys and their toys, for there amidst the taste and understatement were a
vast, ultra slim black T.V. and a tower of entertainment gadgets, clearly
Niall’s input to the décor.