Take a Chance on Me (16 page)

The car park was empty. Clearly neither of them were bothered about her. That was it. She was off men for good. She'd managed for the last few years without them and could manage for many more.

She stomped over to her car and opened the door, threw her handbag in and was about to get in when she saw movement on the edge of the car park. She peered at the figure. It was a man and he seemed to be writhing under the lamp post that lit the car park. She was torn between racing away and helping the person. A sixth sense guided her closer towards the form. Clutching her mobile in case she needed to phone for help, she advanced a few more steps and gasped. He was naked and trussed up against the lamp post. His head was bowed as he tried to escape his bounds.

She moved closer to see if the man was injured. He made some guttural noises and sobbed. It was Rob. She hastened towards him, but it was only after she was close enough to free him that she could make out writing on his bare chest. In bright pink fuchsia lipstick were the words, ‘I'm a prick'.

C
harlie was furious with Jake
. How dare he humiliate Rob in such a way! He didn't have any right to do that. Okay, so Rob was a prat and had behaved badly, however, there was no need to thump him, strip him naked, then tie and gag him with pieces of cloth torn from his pink jacket. He could have been discovered by anyone leaving the pub. As it was, it was bad enough that Charlie had found him. She would tell Jake what an A-hole he was when she next saw him. Luckily for him, Rob was so drunk he couldn't remember exactly what happened.

His clothes had been dumped in a pile nearby. At least she wouldn't have him sitting naked in her car. Trying to dress him was almost impossible. She remembered how Amy had wriggled as a small child. Getting her gloves or socks on had always been difficult. Luckily, she managed to get Rob to put on his own underwear and, after some persuasion, get a leg into his dirty white trousers. He clung to her shoulder and wobbled several times. She was aware that anyone could arrive at any time and see them, so she was not too kind in dressing him. She shoved his trousers over his scrawny backside, latched them at the top then forced his arms into his shirt. She abandoned the idea of shoes and socks. He could get into the car without them.

She opened the car window to let out the stench of alcohol. Finally, she found a twenty-four hours McDonalds drive-through, where she ordered coffee for Rob. They sat in her car while he drank it and sobered a little. Charlie asked him if he knew he what had happened. He remembered arguing with Jake; Jake told him he was a muppet for getting drunk and ruining his date with her. Next thing, he remembered being hit. He touched his eye. It was already closing up and would be deep purple by morning but he didn't seem put out by that fact.

When he was finally coherent enough to remember where he was staying, Charlie drove him to his digs. He was silent throughout the journey, slumped in the seat. She doubted he would contact her again. It was just as well. She did not want to see him again. Her life was perfectly okay without the likes of Rob and Jake.

For the moment she would concentrate on her challenges. They might be mad and frightening but at least they gave her something to focus on. She practised her breathing techniques until she felt calmer. The next time she saw Jake, she was going to tell him exactly what to do with that kazoo.

‘
Y
ou're joking
,' spluttered Mercedes. ‘No way!' She nudged Ryan with her elbow and pointed at the phone in her hand. They were both sitting on the sofa. Bentley was snuggled between them, head on Mercedes' knee. Ryan was trying to watch a detective series on the television. ‘I'll tell Ryan but I won't tell anyone else. Promise. Well, well. Who'd have thought it? Maybe that Jake fellow fancies you.'

‘Even if he did, I wouldn't go out with a Neanderthal like that. He didn't know Rob. He just got all puffed up, probably because Rob called him a prick, and then smacked seven bells out of him. That's barbaric.'

‘Yeah, you're right. If Ryan hit someone who came onto me, I'd think that was a bit OTT too. As for stripping him and leaving him outside tied up.'

Ryan muted the television and tried to listen in.

‘That's got his attention. He's just muted Morse.'

‘I'll let you get back to it. I'm over my rant now. Needed to talk to someone about it. Thanks for listening to me. I might just have a shower, then watch one of the films I recorded. You're a good friend.'

‘You're a good friend, too. Go grab a glass of wine and chill. You can come over here if you prefer. You'd be more than welcome. It's not that late.'

‘No, I wouldn't dream of interrupting your romantic night in with the two inspectors. I'll see you at the radio station. Have a good evening.'

‘See you Sunday afternoon, then. You did say Rob was wearing a pink jacket, didn't you? And white trousers?'

‘You're not laughing are you?'

‘No, I'm not laughing. Well, just sniggering a bit. You have to admit, it's quite funny in a way. At least you didn't get stuck with him all night. He might have tried out the karaoke machine and made it a whole lot worse.'

Charlie laughed. ‘Yes, he claimed he did Meatloaf impressions. I don't think I could have stood him singing “Bat Out Of Hell”.'

‘I think you had a narrow escape there. Okay, my lovely, I'd better go. Morse is about to solve the murder. Ryan thinks he knows who dunnit. We'll see if he's as good as Morse. Sleep well.'

‘Charlie's date,' she explained once she ended the call. ‘It was with Rob. The guy was blind drunk. He chucked wine all over her and when she came back from the toilet, he'd vanished. He was outside in the car park tied to a lamp post butt-naked. Charlie says a guy she knows, Jake, took offence at Rob's language and thumped him. Then he stripped Rob while he was unconscious, and tied him up. He also scrawled a message over his chest in Charlie's pink lipstick. She's pissed off about that. It was the new lipstick I gave her. She doesn't have much luck, does she?'

Ryan kissed Mercedes' forehead. ‘It'll happen for her. She just hasn't met the right guy yet. I could fix her up with Pete. He and his wife have just separated.'

‘He's known as Pervy Pete. And, he's called Pervy for a good reason. You keep out of it. Your track record of finding boyfriends for Charlie isn't great. Stick to solving crimes.'

She squeezed his hand. He turned up the volume on the set again. Mercedes wasn't paying much attention now to the drama. She felt sorry for Charlie. Charlie didn't deserve to be all alone. She had too much love and kindness to give. Playing Cupid wasn't going to help though. Fate needed to play its part. She quietly asked the universe to find someone nice for Charlie. After all, the universe – and Charlie –had given her Ryan.

B
ack at her house
, Charlie found it difficult to settle back into her usual routine. She stood in front of the bathroom mirror, dragging damp cotton wool across her eyes and scrubbing her face free of all make-up. Her cheeks were red. What a waste of time it had all been.
So much for a new relationship.

Her annoyance was now directed at herself for being so silly as to think she could attract a man at her age. She wasn't anything special to look at and she wasn't extraordinary. She was just an ordinary woman whose marriage had failed and who had lost the most precious thing in her life. She picked up the photograph of Amy she kept by her beside. Her heart still ached when she looked at it. She could hear Amy's laughter when she closed her eyes. It was the most glorious and heart-breaking sound in the world.

She kissed the photograph and headed for her computer. She could go onto Facebook and see if anyone she knew was online. She didn't go on it too often but she liked to play some of the games there – Candy Crush was her favourite. Logging on, she noticed Susannah had posted a photo of her and Dave on holiday in Marrakesh. Susannah was wearing a fez. Charlie cheered up at the sight of them.

A couple of the nurses from the hospital were online commenting on some television show but most people seemed to have logged off for the night.

An alert went off to say she had mail. Charlie checked and groaned. It was an email from Harrison:

T
his was ridiculous
. How stupid was Harrison? Could he really think for one minute she would want to see him? She typed a response:

S
he pressed
send then wondered if she had been a little too hard. Blast him! He was a pain. She didn't want him thinking there was a remote possibility that they would meet up. She blocked his name from her email, turned off the computer and poured a glass of wine. She would find something light-hearted to watch. That should sort out her mood.

Charlie curled up in her chair, feet tucked under her, glass of wine in her hand and smiled at Sacha Baron Cohen. Before long, she felt the tension shift and she began to enjoy the film. She was enjoying it so much, she did not hear a car drive slowly past her house and pull into a parking spot on the road nearby. She also did not hear the creak of her back gate as a man in a leather jacket came into her garden and sat under the apple tree.

‘
I
've sold
out of shark pots again!' shouted Patricia from the back room. ‘I can't make them fast enough. Who'd have thought people would want to put utensils and pens into open-mouthed sharks?'

‘They're rather nice-looking sharks,' said Art. ‘They're not exactly like the toothy monsters of the deep, are they? If they looked like the real thing, people wouldn't want them. You've managed to make them look enigmatic. They're quite cute.'

‘Thanks Art,' said Patricia, returning to the kitchen. ‘You're cute too. I've made one hundred and fifty pounds for Charlie already. I hope it helps.'

‘Of course it will. Every little helps. If everyone did something like this, they'd make lots of money and the station would be able to stay on air. It's nice to do something for Charlie. She's always generous to others.'

‘Yes. She's a good soul. She's no idea that she is liked so much. I've never known anyone who can appear to be so confident and do so much for others, have so little confidence in themselves. She's been on her own too long. She really should get out more. I was glad she did those belly dancing classes, but since then she seems to have retreated back into her shell.

‘I wonder how her date went with that man from Thailand. She seemed quite excited about it. I haven't seen her like that before. I hope something comes of it. Mercedes was saying the same thing, only the other day. She's worried that Charlie's given up on herself. Since she heard about Gavin and his new baby, she's become more work-driven. It's such a good thing Mercedes's got her occupied with these challenges. She hopes it'll help make her see there's more to life than the radio station and maybe get her meeting people, more specifically, men. Mercedes' arranged for a really dishy diving instructor to look after her when she does her pool dives. Just in case this thing with the other guy from Thailand doesn't work out.'

‘Mercedes told me she went round to see her a couple of weeks ago at her house and she's kept all of Amy's old toys. It's so sad. There are teddy bears and toys arranged on a bed in the spare room as if they're waiting for Amy to return. Mercedes said it made her want to cry. She's determined to find a new man for Charlie and help her move forward with her life.'

The conversation was interrupted by a well-dressed man, their sole client, who had been sitting in the quiet room for an hour.

‘Could I have another coffee please?' he called.

‘Certainly, sir. Do you want anything with that? We've got some very tasty cakes. I can highly recommend the chocolate one.'

The man shook his head. ‘No, thanks. I'm watching my weight.'

‘Yeah, me too,' said Art, patting his large stomach and smiling. ‘Not as much as I should be though.'

Patricia went to her studio to throw some pots and Art made the coffee. The man continued typing on his laptop and when Art took his drink over, the man barely acknowledged him.

Art returned to the counter and was soon occupied serving some new customers. He didn't pay much attention to the man who sat for a further half an hour on his laptop and didn't observe the man looking up each time the doorbell rang. Eventually, the man came to the counter, paid for his coffee, and then went to the toilet. On his return, he carefully and quickly removed the poster of Charlie zip-lining. He folded it and slipped it into his laptop bag before leaving the café unnoticed.