A Proper Charlie (23 page)

She bit her lip, and looked up at him in horror. ‘Sorry,’ she said, then dodged around him to run the rest of the way towards the office.

She could feel him staring after her, even though she had turned a corner. Oh, why did her mouth speak words she would never utter in a zillion years had she thought about them?

She was stupid. Stupid. Stupid. She rubbed her shoulder where it had made contact with Mr Middleton. It’d serve her right if she had a bruise there. Stupid, stupid, woman.

*

Ben was smiling as he fumbled in his pocket for his car keys. He held the emptied brief case, wet documents and letters against his chest with his other arm.

‘
Testicles,’ he said with a chuckle. He found his keys and opened the back door, where he dropped the soggy mess on the back seat.

His amusement abated when he noticed his white shirt and blue tie smeared with something putrid. As the smell reached his nose, a more furious swear word fell out of his mouth, and Ben dragged the briefcase and its soaked documents and letters back out of the car before it could contaminate the back seat.

He stared miserably down at the mess, subconsciously raking his hair. With a howl that scattered pedestrians, he brought his hand down and stared in disbelief at the brown mess in his palm that was obviously now smeared through his hair.

It had been a bad start to the morning, from as early as midnight to be precise. He had walked the streets searching for information this time. He hadn’t ‘picked up’ any women, although he had plenty of offers. He had spent a fortune on useless information only to finally realise why his father was so exasperated with him. He wasn’t a natural journalist. He had simply been born into it.

He came home at three in the morning having no luck in finding his sister. His PI also had no further information. He didn’t dare reveal to Kevin Locke that he had found and lost the only vital piece of evidence they had on finding Camilla. He was too ashamed.

He pictured Charlie’s horrified face when she realised all the contents from his briefcase had been scattered over the floor, but it hadn’t been her fault. He had been too preoccupied mulling over last night’s activities to be paying attention where he had been walking. He hoped he hadn’t hurt her. She had clutched her shoulder, and had visibly winced. Well, that was one way to win friends; slam into them and bruise them, he thought miserably.

He opened his boot and found the sheet of polythene that was used as a protective covering for the floor, and wrapped the smelly brief case up in it, while hoping he could recover copies of everything that had been in the case.

Ignoring passers-by, he took off his jacket, and undid his tie, and dropped them into the polythene. ‘What’s up?’ he asked no one in particular as he unbuttoned his shirt and peeled it off. ‘Never seen a man covered in shit before?’

He slid behind the wheel of the car, parked there for only saving himself time. The
Core
’s car park was incredibly slow to get in and out of in the mornings, especially as it was shared with several other companies. He switched on the engine, and it wasn’t until he pulled out of the tight parking space that he noticed the yellow parking ticket tucked beneath the wipers.

THIRTY ONE

‘
S
orry,’ Charlie said to Melvin’s back. ‘I’ve been a bitch all morning. Let me make it up to you and get you a coffee,’ she said, rising.

Melvin swivelled round on his chair, his eyebrows raised. ‘Bitch ain’t the word, doll,’ he said. ‘I can think of several stronger adjectives.’

‘
Feel free to throw them at me.’

He smiled, and then flapped a hand. ‘Babe, you don’t need to apologise. You’re having a bad day, and we all have those.’

She smiled weakly, wishing she could tell him the truth. She pushed back her chair and went over to the vending machine.

‘
Got a new headline!’

Charlie swivelled round, her eyes searching for the shouter as her heart knocked against her ribcage.

Mikey was pointing at his computer. ‘Email here that says two old dears began bashing one another with their handbags and brollies over an eighty-nine year old man who had been leading a secret life with both women.’

They were shouts of laughter, and Charlie turned back to the vending machine. For a moment, she’d been expecting another abduction and the victim’s name to be Jan. The girl hadn’t been seen on the streets for a while, and Charlie was becoming seriously concerned.

Her idea popped up in her mind again. It was dangerous and foolish, but when had that stopped her before? She pressed a button and watched as a paper cup dropped out of the machine and hot coffee spurted into it. The idea was simple. So simple it was bound to work. She was going to do it! She was going to make a honey-trap for the abductor with her as the honey!

‘
Who’s nicked my pen?’ shrieked Faye suddenly.

Charlie glanced absently towards her desk and at the gold and silver pen lying there.

‘
It’s here, Faye –’ she began.

‘
Next time, ask!’ Faye snapped, shoving back her chair to stride over to Charlie’s desk. She flipped over papers and a penholder in her search.

‘
It’s there!’ Charlie said, coming back from the coffee machine empty handed. ‘Look!’ She pointed as Faye messed up the desk while pretending not to see the pen blatantly lying across the keys of the keyboard. ‘You did that on purpose!’ Charlie cried as Faye, heavy handedly, grabbed the pen and pressed several buttons all at once and wiped the screen. ‘I didn’t even take your stupid pen! You left it there.’ Charlie stared down at the blank screen in horror. ‘That was the stationery order. I’ll have to do it all again now,’ she stared accusingly across at Faye, who sucked the top of her pen but had the grace to look guilty, although she quickly covered up her shame.

‘
You’d better get on with it then, hadn’t you?’ she said.

‘
You vindictive –’ Charlie began, circling her desk towards Faye, with something like murder written in her eyes.

Melvin smacked the top of his desk. ‘All right, that’s enough you two,’ he said. ‘Charlie go to lunch and cool down, Faye go back to your desk.’

‘
Who are you to tell me what to do?’ Faye snapped at him.

‘
Someone with more brain cells than you,’ he snapped back. ‘You’re always digging at Charlie, Faye,’ he added. ‘And it’s not just Charlie, it’s everyone. It’s as if you’re jealous or something.’

‘
Jealous? You’ve got to be joking!’ She scoffed loudly and flounced off towards her desk. ‘As if I’d be jealous of that bag lady.’ She glared at Melvin. ‘I mean, as if!’

‘
OK! Keep your breast implants in!’ Melvin shouted.

‘
Oh,’ Faye said her anger vanishing as if someone had flicked a switch. A delighted expression crossed her face instead. ‘Can you really tell?’ She cupped each breast and gazed down at them proudly.

‘
Have you really?’ Charlie asked, walking over. Any argument and the lost stationery order were forgotten. She stared at Faye’s protruding chest. ‘When did you get them done?’

‘
A month ago now,’ Faye said, jiggling her breasts up and down. ‘Remember when I was going on holiday to Majorca? I didn’t, I went for implants.’

‘
Well, I
was
joking,’ Melvin admitted. ‘I thought they were natural.’ He came over and poked the left breast with his finger. ‘It certainly feels natural.’

‘
How would you know?’ Faye teased lightly.

Charlie reached out and cupped the right one. ‘I thought they’d be hard.’

‘
Oh, no,’ Faye said. ‘I wanted them to feel as natural as possible. They’re as soft as yours.’ She reached over and squeezed one of Charlie’s.

*

Ben stood in the office doorway staring in disbelief at Charlie and Faye fondling one another. He blinked in amazement, then captured Melvin’s eye, who gave a prolonged shrug, and said, ‘Women!’

Charlie turned towards the door, and horror filled her face. She dropped her hands to her sides and scuttled towards her desk where she buried her head in paperwork.

Ben, his face feeling hot, walked the seemingly mile long journey towards Mr Fanton’s office. He’d gone home to shower and change, and was now back to try and recover some of the ruined documents. He had wondered how Charlie had managed to stay poo free while he had got covered in it. It was obvious that she was the type of person to come up smelling of roses, or however the saying goes.

He went into the office, and turned to pull the blinds. He felt he worked better without interruptions; or rather, he felt self-conscious when he was on display to the office staff.

With his hand raised towards the blind, his eyes fell on Charlie. She was frowning at the computer screen, and furiously pressing buttons on her calculator. Her red hair was left to hang around her face and shoulders in bouncing curls, and she was wearing a strange garble of an orange polo jumper under a green tunic. The tunic came down to just above her knees, and beneath that she wore black leggings with black no-heeled shoes girls wore nowadays. Strangely, he was reminded of the dark-haired prostitute he had seen with Readman just before he picked her up. The tarty one with the long legs, only Charlie was shorter and had soft curly red hair instead of a black afro.

Ben felt something softening in his heart and for the first time in his life wanted to reach out to another person and gather them up in his arms and hold them tight. He mentally shook himself. What was he thinking? Becoming romantically involved with staff wasn’t on his agenda, especially as that someone was Charlie Wallis. She must already think he was a joke, and would mess with his heart, not to mention his head.

As his fingers moved towards the catch of the blind, a sixth sense caused Ben to look towards his rewrite editor’s desk. Melvin was staring at him in a strange, thoughtful gaze. It was as if the man had read his thoughts and disapproved.

Ben slipped the catch and the blind fell, breaking his and Melvin’s eye contact. There was nothing to disapprove, Ben thought, as he moved towards Mr Fanton’s desk. Charlie Wallis was merely an employee; a compelling one, nevertheless.

THIRTY TWO

M
elvin was giving Charlie his concerned look, which Charlie had come to name as ‘the look’. She had spent part of the weekend typing more of her book; her main character was a young girl who had left home at the age of sixteen due to family breakdown. Frightened, she hooked up with the first guy who smiled at her.

That’s as far as she had got. Charlie knew the man was going to be the baddie, and the heroine was going to spend the chapters breaking away from him and getting her life back into order. Her character’s name was Sally.

Saturday and Sunday evening she had gone looking for Jan but the teen wasn’t to be found and Charlie was worried that the police were withholding information for fear of causing a major panic and that the Gentleman Abductor had struck again with Jan.

‘
OK, doll?’

‘
I’m feeling great, as it happens,’ she lied, and forced herself to smile. Over the weekend her honey-trap idea had grown and taken shape, and instead of sounding foolish, as most of her ideas turned out, this seemed the perfect solution.

Melvin’s schoolteacher expression deepened. ‘Doll, there’s some –’ he began, but Sarah came over with a huge mound of proofs.

‘
Hey, guess what!’ she said. ‘Mr M. has offered a reward for information on the abductor. So, I guess that definitely puts him out of the picture.’

‘
I don’t agree with that,’ Faye said turning from her desk. ‘The police will be flooded with all sorts of wacky ideas now…’ she put on a silly voice: ‘‘the man down my street speaks with an upper class accent, arrest him!” It’s a crazy move to make.’

‘
Hmm, somebody’s got over their crush on Sir,’ Melvin said, as he made room on his desk for the paperwork in Sarah’s arms.

‘
Oh, puleese!’ She shuddered. ‘Geeks have more street-cred.’

As Charlie sipped her coffee, Melvin leaned forward and whispered in her ear, ‘As I was about to say, doll, and I’m afraid it’s not good. The stationery order you submitted last week is in, and it’s…’ he pulled a face, ‘large. So, drink that coffee – you’re going to need it after all – and go and sort it out before Fanny gets a whiff of it.’

‘
Oh, no!’

Melvin pulled a face of sympathy. ‘Sorry to put this on you first thing, but…’ he allowed his sentence to trail off.

‘
Tell me as gently as you can,’ she said. ‘How large?’

Melvin cleared his throat, but as he opened his mouth to speak, Faye cut him off,

‘
Large as in huge, enormous, colossal, gigantic –’ Faye swivelled round on her chair. Despite their lowered tones, she had heard. ‘Tell me, do you have a problem with noughts or something, and put an extra nought or ten on the end of each quantity?’