Take a Chance on Me (25 page)

C
harlie remained
in a confident mood throughout the following week. She ordered a book about flying to help prepare her for the challenge. It would be quite an adventure. On Wednesday, Art and Patricia popped out to the Cash and Carry, leaving Charlie in charge. The café had been busy but was now enjoying a quiet spell. Her radio show for that afternoon was prepared and she was looking forward to a night in afterwards with a film, a pizza and a bottle of wine. She was just taking it easy when the café doorbell jangled. Toby came in, followed by a reluctant Jake.

‘It was his idea,' Jake said before she could open her mouth. ‘Toby wanted to come here. He likes the chocolate cake and he wanted to get his mum a present for her birthday from the craft shop.'

‘Hi Charlie,' shouted Toby. ‘How's it going?'

Charlie decided to be polite for Toby's sake. After all, he was unaware of his father's actions and Jake clearly didn't want to be here.

‘It's all good thanks, Toby. What about you?'

‘Oh you know? Not much. School… homework… the usual. Dad's been watching me play hockey for the school's A team. We won three-nil and I scored two of the goals, so he's brought me out to celebrate.'

‘Congratulations. Are you going back to school after?'

‘No. I'm at St Edmund's near Birmingham. It's a boarding school. I stay there most days. On some Saturdays and Wednesdays though, we get to miss lessons for away matches. If parents want to, after the match, they can take the kids out for the afternoon and evening. I'm staying with dad tonight, so I'll go back to school in the morning. It's the end of term next week. We're packing up for the summer holidays so I'm not missing much. Dad said it'd be okay to miss school tonight.'

Charlie looked at Jake, who kept his head down. Fancy sending your child away to school, she thought. Jake must have read her mind.

‘I'd have liked him to go to the local school but his mother wanted the best for him,' he mumbled.

‘I like it at St Edmunds. We get to do all sorts of sports, and adventure activities. We do shooting and golf. I play trumpet in the school band too,' replied Toby.

‘You could've done sports or music at the local school too,' said Jake.

‘Yeah, but I'm going to be a barrister like mum, and I need a good education for that. I'm not going to be able to study Latin at the local comp, am I?' he added, giving his father an exasperated look.

‘The way you argue, you'll make a terrific lawyer. You didn't get that skill from public school. You'd have been fine at the school in town. Local comprehensive school didn't hurt me,' began his father.

Toby harrumphed and pulled out his mobile phone.

‘What can I get you both?' interrupted Charlie, hoping to diffuse the situation.

‘I'd like a large slice of chocolate cake, please and a Coke,' Toby said. ‘And, my dad wants to ask you out.'

Jake's neck turned red. His mouth flapped open. ‘Toby!' he spluttered.

‘Well, you do. Why else do you keep coming in here every other day, hoping to see her? You've been playing songs on that blue kazoo ever since she gave it to you. I heard you playing the theme tune to
Rocky
last time I stayed with you. All the radios in your house are tuned to City Hospital Radio, you even have it on the car radio. You've got enough of those shark pots back home to start up an entire pottery shop. And, you spend hours writing articles about her. It's obvious you like her. You should tell her. It's true what Mum says: some days you need a sharp kick up the…'

‘Toby,' growled his father. ‘That's enough. You're embarrassing Charlie.'

Toby looked at Charlie. ‘I'm not, am I?'

Charlie coughed. ‘Err. A little. I think it'd be better if you let your father do any asking out. Or not.'

‘Well, he's too shy to ask. Mum says he lacks confidence as far as women are concerned. That's what she said, word for word. He's always been the same. If she hadn't asked him out, they'd never have got together. She had to ask him out three times before he got the message,' Toby continued, oblivious to his father's discomfort. ‘Mum says he's a lovely man but he needs prodding sometimes. He's what she calls a dreamer.'

Jake raked his hand through his hair, an anguished look on his face. Charlie almost felt sorry for him.

‘Enough of what Fiona, ah, your mum thinks. Okay? This isn't the place.'

‘Just helping. Mum says you should always speak up for yourself.'

‘Right, well, thank you, Toby. I'll get your order and a coffee for you, Jake?' she asked now slightly confused by this revelation.

Jake nodded.

She turned away and made for the counter where she heard angry whispers as she cut the cake. She concentrated on preparing the drinks but she couldn't stop thinking about what Toby had said. Jake wanted to go on a date with her? She experienced a warm glow in the pit of her stomach. Then she remembered why she was annoyed with him and the feeling departed.

She returned with the drinks and cake. Toby was playing a game on his mobile phone and ignoring his father. Jake tried to avoid her gaze and fiddled with the menu.

‘Ask her,' muttered Toby as he continued thumbing his phone, propelling round cartoon birds at some pigs sitting on buildings.

Jake coughed and squirmed in his chair. ‘As my son has so charmingly interfered and put me on the spot, would you be interested in going out with me for a meal, or drink this weekend?'

Charlie looked at him. She noted the creases around the edges of his eyes and a kindness in them. His chin was covered in a light stubble again. He seemed unsure of himself, not the big shot journalist she had spoken to a few days earlier. He was dressed in dark brown chinos with a smart Tommy Hilfiger shirt. His beaten leather jacket hung on the back of the chair. His dark hair was cropped and bore the slightest trace of grey. He oozed masculinity. Masculinity, with a touch of vulnerability. She thought for a moment, sucked on the end of her pencil and replied, more determinedly than she felt, ‘No, not a chance.'

Toby looked up in astonishment. ‘What? I thought you were ideal. He's been all, you know, starry-eyed since he met you.'

‘Starry-eyed! I don't think so. Thank you, but no thank you,' she continued, turning when she heard the doorbell ring. ‘Excuse me. I have other customers to serve.'

She dealt with the other customers, trying to take her mind off what had just happened. Toby sidled up to the counter some time later.

‘Dad's gone outside. I think he's upset. Can I get a necklace from the shop please for my mum? She really liked the one we bought Abigail. She's having a birthday bash. I'm allowed to invite some friends from school to stay over for it. There's going to be a Robbie Williams impersonator. Pity she couldn't get the real Robbie to come.'

Charlie looked at the enthusiastic child in front of her. He clearly took after his mother with his large blue eyes and blonde hair. His nose was sprinkled with a few freckles. He was a bright lad and very polite. She supposed his confidence came from the school environment he was in. She had read that children at private schools were more gregarious. Amy would certainly never have spoken out in front of her parents like Toby had, and yet he had done so with no malice. He had acted like he was Jake's older brother.

‘Do you know which one you'd like?'

‘Yes, there's a green one I saw last time I came. I think she'll like that. Dad's given me the money for it. I ran out of pocket money. Spent it all in the tuck shop.' He threw her a mischievous grin that made Charlie chuckle.

‘I tell you what, you fetch the necklace and I'll gift-wrap it for you. Save you doing it. I'll put it in one of our hand-made bags.'

‘That'd be great. So, why don't you like my dad?'

Charlie was caught out. ‘I do like your dad. He's very nice. But I don't think we'd get on.'

‘He can be really good fun sometimes. Doesn't get annoyed much. Although, he did shout at Simon for letting me go on his quad bike. He got jolly aggressive then. Mum said it was because he was worried about me hurting myself. He's not been out with anyone since mum and he spilt up. That was ages ago, when I was little, about eight years old. It was before I went to boarding school. Mum said he's turning into a hermit. There's a crab called a hermit, you know? It hides in its own shell. That's like Dad. He doesn't go out much. He likes it when I come around and visit. We go out together to the cinema or bowling. You're the first person who's made him smile in ages. He was singing in the car coming here. He doesn't usually sing. Mum's boyfriend Simon sings sometimes when he's drunk. He sings really badly. He's a senior partner at a law firm. He's got a villa in Mallorca. That's an island near Spain. We go on holiday there every summer. We went last year. Simon let me go out on his Sunseeker yacht with him. It's wicked and very fast. It's moored in Puerto Portals. All the millionaires keep their yachts there. Oops, my mum's present,' he said suddenly remembering why he was there.

He disappeared into the craft shop and re-emerged seconds later, necklace swinging in his hand. He handed it to Charlie who wrapped it in tissue paper and dropped it into a pale green bag.

‘Thank you,' he said as he took the gift and change. He looked at the present then at Charlie, who smiled again. ‘Pity you don't fancy dad. You're very pretty. He was going to play Super Mario Galaxy 2 with me. I hope he's not going to be all mardy now. I much prefer it when he's happy. You could come round and play with us if you like. It's a great game and we're getting Chinese takeaway.'

Charlie hesitated. Toby looked hopeful, his blue eyes reminded her of Amy's. He stood waiting for a response, eager and assured. It would be cruel to turn him down. She was torn.

‘Go on,' he said. ‘Pleeeeease,' he wheedled and smiled sweetly.

‘I'll come round, but only because you asked so nicely. Don't expect me to fall for your dad. It'll be after my radio show. I finish at six.'

Toby grinned. ‘He'll be much happier now.'

‘What's your address?'

‘Give me your phone number and I'll text it to you. Then you won't lose it,' said Toby, scrolling for his contact list.

Charlie gave him her number and heard a beep as the text was sent.

‘See you later. About half past six. Bye!'

Charlie checked her phone. Jake lived in a street quite close to Mercedes and Ryan. She was still unsure as to how she had been manipulated into going around to Jake's for dinner. Toby was definitely going to make a good lawyer.

C
harlie didn't tell
Mercedes about the invitation because she would read too much into it and insist Charlie made more effort with her appearance. As it was, she fully intended turning up in her clothes from the studio. If Jake was put off by jeans and a sweatshirt, then that was too bad. She guessed the other women in his life wore nothing but designer clothes. Abigail did – she still did not understand where Abigail fitted in – and Fiona would for certain.

Show over, she slipped away before she could get caught by anyone, and drove to Jake's house. It was a pleasant detached house with a small front garden. The door was fronted by two small bay trees in large blue pots. The garden was neat and had been recently weeded and the path was bordered by lavender plants. As she brushed past them they emitted a perfume that she always associated with summer.

She rang the doorbell and was greeted almost immediately by Toby, clutching a games console.

‘Hi Charlie! Glad you could come. Dad's having a meltdown in the kitchen. I told him takeaway was fine but he wanted to impress you with one of his cordon-bleu meals.'

Jake appeared behind him and placed a hand over his son's mouth in jest.

‘He's joking,' he said.

There were muffled noises from under his hand as Toby protested.

‘Go inside, Toby. I think you need to go and get Charlie a drink. We agreed you'd be the drinks waiter.'

Toby pulled away from his father's hand. ‘We didn't agree that at all. Oops, sorry. Manners. Come in, Charlie.'

Charlie entered the spacious hallway. The carpet was new and the walls had been painted in cream, with a couple of sunset prints hung up. A small wooden table stood to one side, on which was a jar for keys and a photograph of Toby and Jake, arms around each other. They were smirking. It had been taken recently.

‘Come and sit down,' encouraged Toby. ‘Do you like Mario? Maybe you'd prefer something else? We've got loads of games.'

Charlie was taken through to the lounge. It contained a light blue sofa, a chair, a simple desk and a filing cabinet. A plasma screen television dominated one wall. On the floor, in front of it, were various games and DVDs scattered about.

‘It normally looks tidier than this, but when Toby's here, it gets well-used,' Jake explained. ‘It's my office too, but it's what we call the boys' room.

Charlie was invited to sit on the sofa. Toby threw himself into the chair.

‘So, what would you like to drink?' Jake asked.

‘Wine. A small glass though, please.'

‘White or red?'

‘White. Thanks.'

Jake went off to the kitchen. Toby looked up at her. ‘You still doing challenges for the radio?' he asked.

Charlie nodded. ‘I'm going to be flying in an aerobatic stunt plane in a couple of weeks.'

Toby put down his console. ‘Really? That's lush. I'm going to learn to fly. I'd like my own aeroplane one day. I'd get a small one, like a Piper Arrow, and go off at weekends. Hugh's parents have a jet. They can't fly it themselves. They hire a pilot to take them away. Hugh said I can go with them all, one year.'

‘You've got some wonderful ambitions,' said Charlie.

‘Mum says there's no point in letting the grass grow under your feet. She learned to fly a helicopter. She doesn't do it now. She's not got any time. She's got lots of clients and cases to deal with. She even works when she's on holiday. It cheeses off Simon, but she says it has to be dealt with.'

‘This Fiona you're talking about?' asked Jake, wandering back in carrying a glass of wine, a bottle of beer and a bottle of Coke. He handed out the drinks. ‘Workaholic,' he explained to Charlie. ‘Loves it though. I don't know where she gets all her energy.'

‘Vitamin pills and a macrobiotic diet,' replied Toby in a matter-of-fact tone. ‘Chelsea prepares her food in the morning. Mum takes some of it to the office and eats it there.'

‘Chelsea's her home help and cook,' said Jake.

‘Chelsea's a good cook. She makes a wicked cottage pie, but Dad's pie is much better.'

‘Nah, I'm only average. Just had a lot of practice,' continued Jake. ‘I hope you like goat's cheese. I've done a starter of warm goat's cheese on toast with some onion chutney, followed by boeuf bourguignon. I've gone all French tonight. Only because I had the ingredients and it's easy to prepare. It's nothing special.'

‘Sounds great,' said Charlie, realising that she was, in fact, rather hungry. And the food sounded delicious – much more appetizing than what she usually rustled up herself.

‘Shall we eat now or do you want a pre-dinner match on the console?' asked Toby.

‘We'll eat, Toby. We've got time to play afterwards,' said Jake. ‘Would you excuse me while I go and prepare the starter? I won't be long. Toby will look after you. He's got verbal diarrhoea, so just tell him to stop talking if he's asking too many questions.' He winked at Toby, picked up his beer and left.

‘Is it difficult to be a radio presenter? Do you have to take exams?'

‘It's not hard. Yes, you need to do a course, but I only work in hospital radio and that's a lot simpler than major radio stations. It's a similar principle, but there's a lot more to do and far more equipment in the professional studios.'

‘Do you want to work in a bigger studio?'

‘I don't think so. I'm quite happy at the hospital. It's more of a hobby than a job.'

‘Is the café your real job?'

‘I guess so. I enjoy the baking side of it most.'

‘You made the chocolate cake?'

Charlie nodded.

‘It's scrummy. Even dad admitted it was the best he'd had. You're good at it. You could have a cake shop.'

‘That would be fun,' said Charlie, thinking it was a nice idea. ‘I'd like to specialise in unusual cupcakes and sell them to the public or cater for party events.'

Toby fiddled with his bottle, picking at the label. ‘Mum says it's a good idea to know what you want to do and then choose a career path. Some days I think I'd like to be a lawyer then other days I want to be a pilot. Hugh wants to be a grime music artist like Dizzee Rascal or Tinie Tempah, that would be dench.'

‘Dench?'

‘Cool. It means cool, except cool isn't cool anymore. Hugh's really into that sort of music. He plays it in the bedder. That's where we sleep. I share with Hugh and Thomas. Don't tell Dad about the music. I don't think he'd approve of it. It's a bit, you know?'

Charlie made a motion of sealing her lips with an invisible zip. Toby grinned.

‘You don't have to decide what you want to do yet, you know. You've got plenty of time to decide. I wanted to be a vet when I was your age. I changed my mind completely and did an office job, which was great, but I left it and now I'm doing something quite different which I enjoy.'

‘What sort of office job?' asked Toby, swigging his Coke from the bottle and staring at her intently. Given his inquisitive nature, Charlie thought he'd make quite the journalist, like his father.

‘I was in marketing. I worked on campaigns to help companies sell their products. It was interesting,' she replied.

‘Mum's got an office in London. It's on the top floor. She can see the London Eye from there. She's got another in Birmingham. I've been to both of them. Abigail has an office too. Hers is smaller than mum's.'

Charlie could not help herself. ‘Abigail?'

‘Abigail's my mum's sister. She's my aunt.'

Jake came through. ‘Dinner is served,' he announced and bowed.

‘Funny, Dad.' Toby stretched and stood up. ‘Can I have a beer?'

‘No,' said Jake firmly.

‘Simon lets me.'

Jake's face went dark for a moment. ‘No. You know the rules here. No beer. You're too young. This way please,' he continued, ignoring Toby's pleading looks.

Charlie was ushered into the kitchen. Modern cream kitchen units, cooker and double sink filled one end of the room. A breakfast bar with a black marble top divided the kitchen from the dining area. A black glass table had been set for three. Someone had thoughtfully displayed a vase of flowers as a centrepiece. She noticed an array of cookery books on a cream dresser along with a black telephone, a notepad and a pot of pens. It was one of the shark pots from the café.

Jake served the starter. Toby took up the conversation where it had left off.

‘Abigail's an agent. Isn't she, Dad?'

Jake, who was chewing, nodded.

‘Not a detective agent. That would be brilliant. I'd like to have an aunt who was a detective. Abigail helps people who write books. She finds them publishers. Dad's written a book. Abigail's going to find a publisher and he'll become famous.'

Jake choked on his toast. ‘Toby, I think you're jumping the gun. It's early days. It will probably get rejected.'

Charlie sampled her food. It was superb. The chutney made the perfect accompaniment to the cheese. It did not taste shop-bought.

‘Is this chutney homemade?' she asked, savouring the flavours of the goat's cheese and the chutney.

‘Yes. I'm a bit of an old housewife sometimes. I should join the Women's Institute, except they'd probably throw me out for singing “Jerusalem” off key. I was bored last year and didn't have much work on, so I bottled some jams and chutneys. You like it?'

‘It's excellent,' she said. ‘I'm impressed. I suspect the Women's Institute would be more likely to throw you out because you're a man. You could try dressing up.'

Toby piped up, ‘Like Mrs Doubtfire,' and sniggered.

Jake pursed his lips and gave a good impression of the character, ‘Carpe dentum. Seize the teeth.'

Charlie could not help but laugh.

‘So you've written a book. What's it about?'

Jake looked down at his plate. ‘It's a sort of cookbook,' he mumbled.

‘Sort of?'

‘Yes, a sort of love story with recipes,' Jake added but was reluctant to elaborate.

‘Oh!' Charlie couldn't think of anything else to say. She was astonished.

‘Dad's always been good at cooking. He used to be a chef, didn't you, Dad?'

‘I'm sure Charlie doesn't want to hear about all that.'

They did not revisit the subject of Jake's book. Toby maintained centre stage and talked about school, his teachers and his friends. Plates were emptied and taken to the kitchen. They all moved off to the boys' room, where Toby deliberated over which video game they would play. He finally settled on a bowling game to give them all a sporting chance.

‘I want
Call of Duty: Ghosts
, but Dad won't let me get it,' he stated as he lined up his virtual bowl and made a strike. He cheered.

‘Sorry son, but I don't like those violent shooter type games. They're not healthy for you.'

‘Hugh says he plays it. He's got all the latest games including
Titanfall
.'

‘What Hugh does or plays is for his parents to decide. Both your mother and I agree on this matter. No violent games. You may be thirteen going on twenty, but you're still only just thirteen. You can get those games when you're a little older. There are plenty of good games that don't have so much violence in them. You didn't even enjoy Laser Quest when you went to Hugh's party. We both know you'd rather beat your old dad at a racing car game or bowling.'

He ruffled Jake's hair. Jake acknowledged him with a grin.

‘Your turn, Charlie.'

Charlie felt more relaxed than she had for a while. Jake's house was friendly and comfortable. She was enjoying the company. Toby acted far older than his years and was trying hard to show his father off in a good light. And Jake had impressed her, not only with his cooking but his easy manner. He treated Toby like an equal and together they made her feel very much at home.

‘Strike!' she shouted as she too knocked down all her virtual pins.

Toby high-fived her. Jake groaned.

‘I am being trounced by you two. It's bad enough being beaten by Toby on a regular basis but you as well. I feel such a failure.'

Toby and Charlie battled it out, with Toby winning the game. ‘It was inevitable,' he said as they turned off the game. ‘I get stacks of practice at this.'

Charlie decided it was time to depart. It was with some reluctance that she started to make her excuses. She was interrupted by Toby who exclaimed, ‘I have to go upstairs and do some prep. I forgot I had some maths questions to do for tomorrow. Mr Nailer is not the best teacher to make angry. He puts you in detention if you do something wrong. Hugh was chewing gum in class last week and he had to do five detentions. That's harsh. See you later.'

He beetled off, leaving the adults staring at each other.

‘Make that thirteen going on thirty,' said Jake. ‘I think my son has just made a strategic withdrawal so we can be alone. He certainly hasn't brought any maths books home with him that I know about. Fancy another drink?'

Charlie was amused. ‘It would be a shame to race off and spoil his plans. Thanks, I'll have one last glass of wine. They walked back to the kitchen where Jake filled two glasses. ‘I hope I'm not over the limit.'

‘You can stay here if you want,' said Jake, passing Charlie the glass of wine. Seeing the horrified look on her face, he clarified his statement, ‘There's a spare room upstairs with an en suite. It's in the loft, so you won't even have to be on the same landing as us.'

‘That's very kind of you, but I don't want to send out any wrong messages to Toby.'

‘Okay, I understand. Kids eh? I take it you haven't got any.'

Charlie sipped the wine and hesitated before speaking. ‘I did have. I had a little girl. She was the same age as Toby when she was seriously injured in a car accident. She didn't pull through.'