Charlie (16 page)

Charlie told him very little about herself, just that she was working here for the summer, her father was away on business, her mother in a nursing home and her real home was in Dartmouth. If he got the idea that Beryl and Ivor were people she’d known since childhood, she didn’t straighten him out.

‘Aren’t you going sailing today?’ she asked when he showed no sign of moving on. He’d already said the other two men with him on the yacht yesterday were old friends from his schooldays.

‘No,’ he said with a shrug. ‘Tim’s gone off for the day with his girl. Owen’s sleeping off a hangover. We thought we’d have a day on land and sail tomorrow.’

It was a busy morning at the shack, one of the busiest Charlie had ever had, but even though at times there was a queue waiting to be served, Guy stayed sitting outside. In the lulls between customers they resumed their conversation, and Charlie found herself dredging up funny stories Ivor had told her about people here in Salcombe, and things about her friends from school – anything to keep his interest.

She thought she’d forgotten how to flirt. It seemed years ago that she and June had waylaid boys and told them tall stories, but to her surprise she was still just as good at it, better perhaps because she really did like this one.

At one point she reminded herself of her own mother: she found herself touching his arm, looking deep into his eyes and asking him questions about himself, just the way Sylvia did at parties. It was a bit like the effect of a couple of Babychams, she felt all sparkly and fizzy inside. She just wished she knew how to engineer things so he would ask her out tonight and wouldn’t sail away tomorrow for good.

When she spotted the
MaryAnn
coming in, her heart sank.

‘That’s Ivor coming in,’ she said, pointing out the boat to Guy. ‘I think you’d better go.’

He stood up. ‘Okay. I don’t suppose you could get some time off this afternoon and come swimming with me?’

‘I don’t like to ask him,’ she said, but even as she spoke her mind was already on what she could say to persuade Ivor. Could she pretend she needed to see her mother? Could she play ill?

‘Try and think of something,’ Guy said, and leaning forward, kissed her cheek. ‘I’ll be on the boat if you can get off. If not, what about tonight?’

The
MaryAnn
was getting closer and Ivor had keen eyesight. It wouldn’t do for him to see her talking with Guy if she was going to make up a story.

‘I’m supposed to work tonight too,’ she said hurriedly. ‘But I’ll work on it. I’ll come along and tell you later.’

Guy went off then, and as Charlie watched his bouncing step up to his yacht she knew she was prepared to say anything, do anything to spend some time alone with him.

As Charlie watched Ivor bringing in the
MaryAnn
, her mind firmly on Guy and everything he’d said to her this morning, she suddenly realized something which made her squirm.

She had always thought confidently of herself as upper-class. She spoke well, she had a first-class private education, and she’d been brought up in a luxurious home. But now after meeting Guy, who really was out of the top drawer, and hearing him talk about his Mini Cooper, social life in Henley, holidays in the West Indies and diving in the Red Sea, it occurred to her that her background was in reality only working-class.

In a flash of intuition she saw this was exactly why her father had bought ‘Windways’. At some stage of Jin’s life, in all probability soon after she was born, he’d decided to embark on a new way of life and gain respectability.

Putting Guy aside for a moment, she wondered if this could be why her father had set so much store by socializing in Dartmouth. She had always assumed he just liked to make new friends and have fun. But in the light of what she knew now, wasn’t it more likely that it had been for
her
benefit? Perhaps Jin’s whole aim, the nice clothes, the good schools had all been in the hope that his daughter would ultimately marry well and have the security he and Sylvia had never had when they were young.

The thought was chastening. It explained those overheard rows between her parents, why her mother was so often locked in silent misery. Jin’s intentions might have been good, but he had a separate life elsewhere, where he could be his real self; poor Sylvia had to breathe, live and sleep the image he’d created for her. Was that why she wouldn’t make any effort now, because she knew that without all those trappings and without Jin she had nothing to offer anyone?

*

Ivor came bounding along the quayside, his smile stretching from ear to ear. Minnie ran before him, her tongue lolling out so she looked as if she was smiling too.

‘How’s my first mate?’ Ivor boomed out. ‘And who was the young man I saw chatting to you?’

Charlie knew then she’d never be able to fool him. He had eyes in the back of his head. Besides, he had obviously had a good morning, he was positively bristling with glee.

‘It was Guy from the
Chloë
,’ she replied, patting Minnie who was jumping up at her. ‘But tell me about your morning.’

‘I got a twenty-pound tip,’ he beamed. ‘They were Yanks and they said they’d never had a better time. Tell me you’ve been busy here too and you can have the afternoon off to go and lie in the sun.’

Charlie burst into excited laughter. ‘I’ve never been so busy. I think I’ve taken over eighty pounds.’

Ivor stopped in his tracks, still smiling. He knew Charlie was always pleased when they sold a lot of stuff. She felt it justified her wages. But Ivor guessed that her bright smile was due to something more than money today. It didn’t take a great brain to work out that the chap from the
Chloë
was behind it.

‘Has he asked you out?’ he asked.

‘Yes, he wondered if I could go swimming with him.’

‘Well, you’d best put him out of his misery then,’ he said. ‘Push off and have a good time.’

Charlie ran to Ivor and hugged him. As she leaned against his broad shoulder she felt ashamed she’d planned to lie to him.

*

That afternoon was the best time Charlie had had since the night she was picked as Carnival Queen at the dance in the Queen’s Hotel. Everything seemed magical. Guy held her hand as they wandered up through the High Street and he bought an impromptu picnic of tuna rolls, pork pies, fruit and lemonade. They caught the ferry to the small beach at East Portlemouth and lay down on a rug he’d brought with him.

Charlie was very embarrassed when she peeled off her shorts and tee-shirt to reveal her scanty red and white spotted bikini. But when Guy looked at her and whistled, suddenly she felt like a beauty queen.

The sun was so hot they were forced to go into the sea frequently. She didn’t want to swim in case her hair ended up like wet seaweed, but Guy leapt in immediately and kept splashing her until she joined him.

He kissed her for the first time in the sea. It was the best kiss she’d ever had, he didn’t force his tongue into her mouth like so many other boys had done, but just teased her with it, his lips warm and salty, and she thought she might die from pure bliss.

Other boys she’d met with June on beaches the previous summer had always been so rough. They horsed around, picking the girls up and throwing them in the water, sometimes they’d even tried to wrench off her bikini top. But Guy wasn’t like that, he wanted to cuddle her, stroke her skin, and kiss her tenderly. She knew right away that this was exactly what she’d been waiting for. It felt like love.

When they came out of the sea they were cold. Guy wrapped her in the towel as though she was a child, and cuddled her dry on his lap. Charlie didn’t care that there were people watching them, she wasn’t even concerned that they might think it shocking to see two young people kissing with such abandon.

Guy licked the salt from her tummy later, and whispered that if they were alone he would lick every inch of her. Suddenly she knew what real desire was; this wasn’t one of those slightly tingly moments she’d experienced with other boys in the past. She wanted Guy. To lie beside him completely naked, to fondle him and let him do the same to her.

‘I’ve never felt quite like this before,’ he whispered after yet another long, deep kiss. ‘I wish I wasn’t with the lads, then I could spend all the rest of my holiday with you.’

Charlie wished that were so too, but she was wary of admitting such a thing just yet. ‘I’ve got to work anyway,’ she reminded him.

In the morning their conversation had centred on getting to know about one another’s background, but now as they lay in the hot sunshine, their feelings became the important issue. Guy told her his father was often very disapproving of him, he wanted him to get his hair cut, to think about his career and find a nice girl from a good family to settle down with.

‘I want that too, eventually,’ he said, his blue eyes looking right into hers as if he believed he’d found the right girl. ‘But I want fun now, adventure and good times. Father doesn’t seem to understand that things have changed since he was my age. Our generation didn’t live through the depression or the war, we don’t need to be so practical all the time. Why shouldn’t we go sailing in the summer, pack a rucksack and go off to India if we choose to? My idea of heaven is to be lying out under the stars, smoking a joint with a girl I love, or climbing a mountain just to see the view at the top, to explore remote places, to experience everything. Do you think like that too, Charlie?’

Charlie had never seen a joint, much less smoked one. She’d never thought of climbing a mountain and visiting a remote place would worry her in case she couldn’t have a bath and wash her hair. But she thought all that would be heaven if Guy was with her.

‘Sort of. Until Mum went into hospital I used to want to be a hippie and go to rock festivals and stuff, in fact I used to get frantic in case it was all over before I got the chance. But I haven’t had much opportunity to think more than a day ahead just recently.’

It was then she saw she couldn’t tell him yet about her real situation, it was too heavy and it might spoil things. Besides, for this afternoon at least she wanted to believe she was free.

‘Once Mum’s a bit better, I was thinking of moving to London,’ she said. ‘I don’t know that I could stand going back to school for “A” levels. I want to share a flat with some other girls, to be free to do whatever comes along.’

He looked pleased at this and moved closer to kiss her shoulders. ‘Won’t your parents kick up a stink? Or aren’t they stuffy like mine?’ he asked.

‘Not in quite the same way,’ she said carefully. She didn’t want to tell lies which might trap her later, but at the same time she wasn’t going to say anything which might alarm him. ‘Mum’s neurotic, kind of wrapped up in herself, and Dad’s away a great deal. But I suppose they want much the same for me as your parents do, a career, the right kind of husband. They’d probably have fifty fits if they knew I was lying on the beach right now with a man I hardly know, planning to pack in school and a wild life in London.’

‘You want to be wild then?’ he grinned.

‘Oh yes,’ she smiled, and meant it. ‘Rock concerts, parties, going to clubs and stuff. Nothing ever happens in Devon. I want to be where there’s excitement, where places are open all night. I want to dress as I please and see who I want.’

‘I knew you were my kind of girl the moment I saw you,’ he said, bringing his lips down on to hers for another long, lingering kiss that sent tingles down Charlie’s spine.

‘If you get a flat in central London we can have such good times,’ Guy said later as they began to pack up their things. It was after five now and getting a little cooler. ‘Had you given any thought to what sort of job you’ll get?’

‘I thought of banking,’ Charlie said on the spur of the moment. She had never for one moment considered this before. ‘I’m good at maths. Or something in the Civil Service.’

Guy looked surprised. ‘I think you ought to try modelling,’ he said. ‘You’d make a fortune with your looks. Surely you don’t want to work somewhere as dull as a bank?’

‘I was only thinking I’d earn plenty of money,’ she said quickly. ‘Do you really think I could be a model?’

‘I know you could,’ he said, standing up and pulling her up into his arms. ‘I can just imagine showing the chaps at work a copy of
Vogue
, with you on the cover, I’d say “That’s my girl. Isn’t she something?” and they’d all be green with envy.’

It was ten past six when Charlie got back to the pub, but despite the early hour it was already busy. Her heart sank, she’d banked on it being quiet enough for Beryl to give her the night off. Guy had said he was going back to the boat to have a shower and change and he’d come round later to see if she could get away. He’d joked that if it was busy he’d let off a couple of stink-bombs to clear the place.

Worse still, Beryl looked harassed behind the bar. Charlie knew she couldn’t add to it by asking to be excused tonight.

She shot upstairs, showered, washed the salt out of her hair, and changed into her white mini-dress. If all else failed she could still have an hour or so with Guy after closing time.

Right up until nine Charlie was run ragged, collecting glasses, washing and drying them and taking them back to the bar just to get them used all over again. Guy was in there, but she got no chance to speak to him and she was beginning to despair.

To her surprise and delight, at nine-thirty there was almost a mass exodus from the pub. Charlie wasn’t sure if it was just luck, or whether there was something else going on in another pub. But suddenly the bar was almost empty.

‘Thank God for that,’ Beryl exclaimed as she brought a tray loaded with glasses in for Charlie to wash. ‘I must be getting old because I don’t get the same high as I did once from taking money.’ She paused to look at Charlie. ‘You’re all dressed up tonight!’ she said. ‘Who’s that in aid of?’

‘The blond man at the end of the bar,’ Charlie said with a giggle. ‘He’s lovely, Beryl. I spent the afternoon with him today at the beach.’

‘Guy Acton-Bond eh?’ Beryl looked knowing. ‘He is a handsome devil, I’ll give you that. But isn’t he a bit out of your league?’