Charlie (17 page)

Charlie bristled. ‘He likes me,’ she said with some indignation.

‘I’m sure he does,’ Beryl said more gently. ‘I’m getting old and crabby, dear, forgive me. It’s just that I always found the handsome ones were the rotters. I wouldn’t like you to get hurt.’

‘He won’t hurt me,’ Charlie said confidently.

‘Well, you’d better rush off and join him then, dear,’ Beryl said with a smile. ‘But mind you’re back by twelve, or you’ll find yourself locked out.’

Chapter Five

‘I know I’m an old fogey, Charlie, and probably out of touch with the younger generation. But mind you don’t get out of your depth,’ Ivor growled.

It was Thursday morning, three days after Charlie spent the afternoon on the beach with Guy, and since then she’d spent every available free moment with him. Even now she was standing at the door of the shack bleakly watching him sail the
Chloë
out of the harbour, despite knowing he would be coming back tonight.

‘Don’t be silly,’ she snapped impatiently without turning to face Ivor.

A few moments later she felt ashamed of herself. She came into the shack, over to where he sat mending a lobster pot, and put one hand on his arm. ‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that, you aren’t silly. Just a bit of a worry-guts. It’s just that everyone keeps warning me off Guy. I don’t understand why, we’re really alike and we’re so happy together.’

Ivor patted her hand with affection. He wasn’t going to attempt a lecture, he knew she was deaf to everything except the words Guy whispered in her ears.

Salcombe was a tight community. Everyone knew everyone else and even in high summer when one would imagine the tourists would act as a distraction, still everything that happened was noted and gossiped about.

Charlie had been a source of great interest since she arrived in the town. Along with her striking appearance, there was the fact she worked for Ivor. Beryl had told him just a few nights ago that some people were actually claiming she was his daughter, a love child born to a Chinese mother when he was in the navy.

As Beryl was the soul of discretion when she cared for someone, she had merely laughed at this fanciful tale. As she’d pointed out to Ivor, such a rumour was in fact less potentially damaging to Charlie than the truth about her real father. She found it quite astounding that no one had yet made the connection between this girl and the brutally attacked woman in Kings-wear, whose Chinese husband had disappeared owing a great deal of money.

While Charlie might be a bit of a mystery to the people of Salcombe, Guy and his family were quite well known. He’d been coming here for holidays since he was a small boy, and latterly sailing in, sometimes with his father, but more often with friends. On almost all the recent visits he’d managed to put people’s backs up, rowdy parties on his boat, getting drunk, or acting belligerently towards other people moored in the harbour. And on each visit there had been a different girl.

Mostly the girls came with him, arrogant ones with plummy accents and braying laughter; they strutted around looking at ordinary folk as if they had a bad smell under their aristocratic noses. But Ivor had heard that on two occasions Guy had found a local girl to be his entertainment for the duration of his stay, and both girls had been heartbroken and humiliated when he shipped out without even saying goodbye.

So it was hardly surprising that all eyes were focused on his new romance with Charlie. They made a very attractive couple, but because of Guy’s track record, everyone anticipated trouble. Just that morning Ivor had been informed by his next-door neighbour that Charlie had spent the whole night on the
Chloë
.

Ivor knew this wasn’t true. He was still at the pub at midnight, talking to Beryl, when Charlie arrived home. She may very well have got up early and gone down to the yacht to see Guy in the morning, but that wasn’t quite the same thing. Even so, his paternal instincts were aroused. Charlie might think she was an adult, but she was still a vulnerable child in his eyes and as such he wanted to protect her.

‘Have you told him the situation about your father?’ Ivor asked gently. He hadn’t actually met Guy’s parents, they weren’t the type to buy anything from a harbourside shack, but he knew a little about them. They were extremely wealthy and both came from illustrious families. Ivor didn’t think they’d take too kindly to their only son and heir taking up with anyone who wasn’t out of the top drawer.

Charlie looked awkward, her eyes dropped from his and she shuffled her feet on the floor. ‘Not exactly,’ she mumbled.

Ivor kept quiet.

‘Why does it matter anyway?’ she said defiantly after a few minutes. ‘Guy isn’t the kind of person who cares about class, money and all that. He likes me just for myself.’

Ivor sighed. He didn’t doubt that Guy had made such statements, and indeed meant them, right now. But it could well be a different story once he’d introduced Charlie to his folks. People like the Acton-Bonds would want to know every last thing about any girl their son was keen on. They’d almost certainly be dubious about her because of her mixed race. If they were to discover the truth about her parents they would undoubtedly demand Guy dropped her.

Maybe Guy had fallen heavily for Charlie, Ivor thought proudly that it would be hard for any man not to. But would he see her in quite the same romantic light if his father curtailed his sailing, cut off his allowance, and told him to make his own way in the world?

‘I’m glad you’ve found someone to care for,’ Ivor said. He wasn’t normally one for choosing his words carefully, but he knew he must while she was in such an emotional state. ‘And I really hope it works out for you with Guy. But just try to keep your feet on the ground, sweetheart. Don’t pin everything on him.’

Charlie felt aggrieved all day. She barely spoke to Ivor again. She didn’t understand why he was so doubtful about her and Guy.

It was like they were made for one another, they made each other laugh, they had so much to talk about. He had only to touch her hand and she wanted him, when he held her in his arms she melted into him. Just an hour away from him was too long, and she knew he felt exactly the same. It was true love. It wasn’t a silly girlish crush. Why did everyone keep making those dark hints about how rich his family were? Did they think that was the only reason she liked him?

Anyone would think she was a girl from the slums. Hadn’t she been brought up surrounded by wealthy people, just like Guy? They laughed at snobs together, they found social climbers pathetic. They both wanted a life where class, money and the establishment meant nothing. To travel the world, to try everything, see everything.

Around eight that same evening Beryl went into the kitchen to make a ham roll for a customer. Charlie was standing at the sink washing glasses. She was wearing a slinky pink sleeveless maxi-dress. Clearly she was intending to meet Guy later.

‘I haven’t seen that dress before,’ Beryl said. ‘Come on, give us a twirl, is it new?’

Charlie spun round from the sink, she was flushed, almost as if she’d been woken suddenly from a dream.

‘I didn’t hear you come in,’ she said. ‘I must have been miles away.’

‘I can imagine where you were,’ Beryl said wryly. ‘Under swaying palm trees with the man of your dreams.’

Charlie giggled. ‘Not exactly,’ she said. ‘I was thinking maybe I ought to go up to London for the day soon and see if I can find a job there for the end of the season. What do you think of my dress then? I bought it in that boutique up the road.’

‘It’s super,’ Beryl said with the utmost sincerity. Even at sixteen her own body had never been as firm and shapely as Charlie’s. Her stomach was flat, her bottom like two grapefruits, and the slit up the front revealed those perfect long brown legs.

‘I was a bit rash,’ Charlie said shamefacedly. ‘I just couldn’t resist it. I read in a magazine that no one in London is wearing minis any more.’

‘And you didn’t want Guy to think you were a bit square?’ Beryl said. ‘Was that it?’

Charlie giggled. ‘I suppose so.’

She turned back to her washing-up, and Beryl, sensing the girl wasn’t in a talkative mood, got on with making the ham roll. Ivor had been expressing his anxiety about Guy to her over the bar just a few moments ago, but she wasn’t exactly sure where her sympathies lay. Ivor was being protective, he had grown very fond of Charlie, so of course he was wary of anyone who might hurt her. Beryl had watched the lad with Charlie on several occasions, and she had got the impression he was every bit as smitten with Charlie as she was with him. Being something of a romantic, and somewhat charmed by Guy herself, she wanted it to work out for them.

On the other hand she knew both the other local girls who’d fallen for him in the past, and remembered how callous he’d been with them. Of course men could change when they fell in love, she’d seen it happen dozens of times.

But the main thing which worried her was that Charlie might give too much of herself, too soon. It would be understandable, the poor kid was so young and naïve. It crossed her mind that maybe she ought to give her some advice about contraception.

But even as she thought it, she knew she couldn’t. Charlie would be terribly embarrassed, and anyway kids these days probably knew more than she did.

Beryl put the roll on a plate and looked across at Charlie’s backview. For some unfathomable reason she suddenly had a rush of unexpected tenderness for the girl. Perhaps it was just the combination of those childishly narrow shoulders, the glamorous dress, chosen to please a man, yet there she was up to her elbows in soapsuds like a scullery maid. She deserved better, Beryl thought. She had earned her keep five times over in the time she’d been here.

‘Finish those few and then you can go and meet him,’ she said. ‘But make sure you put on some hand-cream before you go. Dishwash hands don’t go with that dress.’

She wanted to add some warning about being careful, but she couldn’t bring herself to. The young didn’t heed warnings, and first love, as she remembered, was too heady and reckless to think of tomorrow.

The last rays of daylight were just fading in the sky as Charlie walked across the road into the harbour. To her delight the
Chloë
was back and Guy was just leaping from it to the harbour wall. Even before she could call out his name, he saw her and ran to her, arms open wide.

‘Have you got off work?’ he asked as he hugged her tightly.

‘Yes. Beryl let me come and meet you,’ she said. ‘We’ve got hours together now.’

He kissed her then, there on the harbour, long and hard without any thought to the people bypassing them on either side.

‘Come on to the boat then,’ he suggested. ‘The lads have gone off. They won’t be back till late and I’ve got a couple of bottles of cider in the fridge.’

Charlie had been on the
Chloë
several times in the last couple of days. Guy had even taken her out sailing for an hour after she finished work the previous day. She had always liked boats; in Dartmouth they had the same importance to most families as cars. But this one was the nicest and most luxurious she’d ever been on.

Guy had gone to great pains to explain that it had been designed specifically for his father and a young family. So it could be sailed single-handed if necessary, sturdy enough to stand up to rough weather, and with all the home comforts his mother had insisted on. Charlie got the impression that Guy would’ve preferred to lose the comfort and sturdiness in favour of more speed. But she thought it was just perfect.

There was a small double bed fitted into the cabin in the bows, another cabin with single bunks, and the saloon had comfortable couches which could be used as beds too. It had a toilet, shower and refrigerator. The galley was beautiful, with the cooker and sink tucked away under real oak counters, and an abundance of cupboards with almost everything you’d expect to find in a normal kitchen.

The men kept it very clean and tidy considering there was no woman aboard to tidy up after them, but Guy had said this morning that was Tim’s doing, not his. Tim by all accounts had spent three or four years at sea, crewing for anyone that would pay him to see the world. He’d got into the habit of being cook, cleaner and laundryman.

‘That dress is something else,’ Guy said once they were on board. ‘You look a million dollars.’

Charlie glowed. It had cost an entire week’s wages, in fact she’d got a sub from Ivor to pay for it and she didn’t know how she was going to manage all next week without any money. But it was worth it to see Guy’s appreciative smile.

They had a couple of glasses of cider each, and because Charlie hadn’t had anything to eat since lunchtime, it went straight to her head. When Guy took her hand and led her into the cabin, she felt no alarm, she wanted to lie in his arms in comfort.

The lapping of the waves against the hull and the gentle rocking movement were in perfect time with the Beach Boys tape playing softly in the background. Guy lit a couple of candles and turned off the electric light.

‘Don’t let me fall asleep,’ Charlie said with a giggle. ‘Beryl will lock the doors if I’m not home by twelve.’

’Do you really think I’d let you waste this precious time together by sleeping?’ He laughed and climbed on to the double bed and pulled her into his arms.

Charlie had lost touch with reality many times before when he kissed her. Just this morning when she’d come aboard to see him before he sailed, they had tumbled on to this bed and were almost swept away by instantaneous passion. But the other two men were in the next cabin then, she’d had only an hour before getting to work, and Guy had a thick growth of stubble on his chin.

But Guy’s face was smooth and silky now, he smelled of expensive aftershave and there were no reminders of duty or other people to help her keep her head. Within minutes her dress and his shirt were off, and with each kiss Charlie felt the last of her reservations about losing her virginity fading.

They had petted heavily before, and Guy was a practised and skilful lover. He didn’t alarm her by being too hasty and as his fingers gently explored her, so he whispered loving endearments.