There were times when the girl’s personality reminded Charlie of her own mother’s. Meg had extreme mood swings, changing from being a very likeable, amusing and stimulating companion to a foul-mouthed depressive. At these times she was best avoided, as it was impossible to jolly her out of it, and she usually came out with her most biting insults at these times.
But the most remarkable similarity was the way Meg played up to men. She switched on her flirting mode with any male, regardless of age, appearance and social standing. She touched their hands, stroked their hair, fluttered her eyelashes at them and boosted their egos. No one was safe from this. She played up to Beth and Anne’s boyfriends, and Andrew. She would blatantly expose her body to them, she told embarrassing intimate stories about her sex life, and sometimes, though she always claimed it was a joke, suggested swapping partners. It had been the thought of being stuck with Meg for the whole long weekend which had decided Charlie on coming down here alone.
‘Is everything all right with your flatmates?’ Ivor asked.
‘Mostly,’ Charlie said. ‘Meg’s a bit annoying, and I get fed up with cleaning up after them sometimes. But I don’t suppose anyone could expect to share a flat with three girls and find everything perfect.’
‘And work, what’s that like?’ he asked.
‘Great,’ Charlie grinned. ‘Once the Hag goes out, it’s a riot. I’ve made some really good friends there. On Friday evenings we all go to the pub after work.’
‘Won’t it be different when all the students leave?’ he asked.
Charlie knew he thought she should get a better job, with real prospects. When she’d telephoned him to let him know her exam results he’d asked if she was going to apply to any universities. Her answer had been that it was too late to apply for the coming year, and besides, she’d needed time to think about exactly what direction she wanted to go in. All this was true, but not quite the whole story; right now she just wanted some fun.
‘Yes, it will be awful. Only Martin and Rita will be left. But I doubt I’ll stay on anyway. I’ll look around for a better job in banking or something, and then decide whether to apply to go to university next year.’
He smiled, he looked as if he knew the way her mind was working. ‘Just make sure you don’t distract Andrew in his final year, he’ll need to keep his nose in his books.’
The weekend went past in a flash. On Saturday Charlie went off to Slapton Sands on her own, to sunbathe and read. On Sunday she had spent all day out on the
MaryAnn
with Ivor, and all three evenings had been spent in the Victoria Inn. She had turned as brown as a berry again, she felt invigorated by the rest and good food.
But now it was Monday and Charlie had to go home. She couldn’t even hang on and get the last train to London, because that would be so packed with holidaymakers it would be hell. She telephoned Andrew at the pub and said she would be back by about seven. He said he would ask if he could have the night off, but he didn’t hold out much hope. Charlie said she would phone him again when she got in.
The train journey was quite pleasant. Charlie read a little, snoozed for a while, then walked down to the buffet and bought herself a drink and some sandwiches. The train was right on time until it reached the outskirts of London, then it stopped. Twenty minutes passed before the guard came along saying there’d been a signals failure up ahead. Another half-hour passed and he came back to apologize again. Charlie tried to snooze and hoped Andrew hadn’t managed to get the night off. At this rate she wouldn’t be home until eight or nine.
Eventually the train started up again, but it chugged along slowly, coming almost to a halt many times. When she finally got to Paddington, it was half past eight and the whole station was so crammed with people waiting for delayed trains that she didn’t even attempt to phone home, or the pub to speak to Andrew. She just wanted to get back to the flat.
She had to wait ages at Finsbury Park tube station for the Hornsey bus, and by the time she got to the front door it was nine-thirty and she felt completely drained, hot and sticky.
As she opened the door to the flat, she stopped in embarrassment. Meg was crouched over a man lying on one of the mattresses, wearing only a pair of black lace knickers, her hair hiding the man’s face. The Eagles’ ‘Desperado’ was blasting out on the stereo and the whole room stank of cannabis.
‘Sorry,’ Charlie said involuntarily. ‘I’ll –’ The rest of the sentence about going to her room was cut off abruptly as Meg moved, for to Charlie’s horror, the man she was making love to was Andrew.
For just one second Charlie remained rooted to the spot in shock. But as Andrew pushed Meg to one side, his eyes wide with fright and astonishment at her sudden entrance, she dropped her bag and moved. ‘You bitch,’ she screamed, running towards them, intending to claw the girl’s eyes out. But she forgot the low table, banged her shins into it and fell sideways.
Andrew leapt to his feet. He was dressed, but he had several shirt buttons undone and red lipstick all around his mouth. ‘It isn’t like you think,’ he said frantically. ‘We had a few smokes while I was waiting for you, then she came in like that.’
Charlie got up and charged at Meg again. She was still on the mattress, half sitting, half lying in the same position she had landed in when Andrew pushed her away from him. She made no attempt to cover her bare breasts, or even move.
Charlie reached down, grabbed her by the hair with her left hand, and with her right smashed her fist into the girl’s face. ‘You scheming, rotten bitch!’ she roared. ‘You’ve had every other man in north London, why did you have to have him too?’
If Andrew hadn’t caught hold of Charlie’s right arm and pulled her back, she would have kept on punching until the girl’s face was a pulp. Still holding Meg’s hair tightly, Charlie tried to shrug him off, but Andrew was too strong. ‘Enough, Charlie!’ he yelled. ‘Let her go.’
Charlie could do nothing more than yank on Meg’s hair. As she forcibly pulled back, a great clump of it came away in Charlie’s hand. But in her anger at not being allowed to hurt Meg further, she turned to Andrew and lashed out at him. ‘Get out of here, you bastard,’ she screamed at him. ‘You said you loved me, how could you go with her?’
‘I didn’t, I wouldn’t have,’ he shouted back, pulling her further away from Meg. ‘I was stoned and just lying there. On my mother’s life I wouldn’t have made love to her.’
‘No one makes love to her. They screw her or fuck her, that’s all she’s good for!’ Charlie screamed. ‘Don’t tell me you wouldn’t have done it if I hadn’t come in. Of course you would.’
‘Don’t you fucking well speak about me like that,’ Meg shouted. While Andrew held Charlie she had managed to get up and make her escape towards her bedroom door. ‘If you must know he’s been sniffing around me for weeks. I only did it to put him out of his misery.’
‘That’s a bloody lie,’ Andrew burst out, his face very flushed. ‘Admit it, Meg. Or I’ll smash your face in too.’
Charlie looked from one to the other in distress, not knowing which one to believe. Meg had blood running from her nose, her black curly hair was tousled, cascading over her naked breasts. She knew this girl was man-mad, but Charlie didn’t think she was a liar. Andrew couldn’t deny that was lipstick on his mouth. Why hadn’t he got up and left the moment Meg appeared without her clothes?
‘Get out of here, you bastard,’ Charlie hissed at him, brushing off his hand on her arm. ‘Go on, go, right now. And don’t ever come back. I never want to see you again.’
‘Tell her the truth,’ he implored Meg. ‘You got me stoned then leapt on me.’
Charlie looked again at Meg. She had her hands insolently on her hips, even now she wasn’t attempting to cover herself. ‘Fuck off, you jerk,’ she said contemptuously. ‘You were dying for it.’
‘Get out now,’ Charlie said, pushing Andrew towards the door. She was trembling and she felt nauseous. She knew any minute she was going to bring up the sandwiches and fizzy drinks she’d had on the train. ‘You and I are finished.’
‘No, Charlie,’ he begged, his eyes wide with shock and dismay. ‘Please come with me somewhere else and we’ll talk. You can’t stay in this flat with that witch.’
‘Better a witch than a snake,’ she snapped. ‘Now go.’
He turned and left. The door slammed just as the record ended and it seemed to reverberate throughout the house.
Charlie turned menacingly towards Meg. ‘You disgust me,’ she said. ‘No, disgust doesn’t cover what I feel. You make me sick.’
She felt the vomit rise up into her throat, and she took one step towards the door and the bathroom outside on the landing. But she stopped as she suddenly thought of a way to get back at Meg.
Pushing the girl back against the wall as she passed her, she went straight into Meg’s bedroom. Her bed, as always, was unmade, clothes strewn amongst the grubby, crumpled sheets.
She sensed Meg had followed her in, perhaps imagining she was going to destroy a few things, and that knowledge helped Charlie to control her nausea just that little bit longer. Stopping at the bed, she let it go, and vomited all over it. As if from a great distance she heard Meg gasp.
‘There,’ Charlie said in triumph, although she felt so weak all she wanted to do was slump down and cry. ‘A fitting place for you to rest your diseased cunt.’
‘You filthy cow,’ Meg shrieked. She was really frightened. She had never seen Charlie lose her temper before, and she hadn’t imagined she could be so violent.
Charlie surveyed the bed and the putrid mess she’d covered it in with some pride. ‘Nowhere near as filthy as you,’ she said. Then, tottering, she made towards the door where Meg was transfixed with horror.
‘You can clean it up,’ she yelled in a high-pitched shriek, trying to grab Charlie as she passed. But Charlie struck out with her fist again, and knocked her backwards against the door post.
‘I’m going to call the police. I’ll get them to throw you out on the street,’ Meg screamed, but she backed into her room.
‘Phone them if you want. But I’m going anyway,’ Charlie said. ‘I wouldn’t stay under the same roof as you even if my life depended on it.’ She turned and looked back at Meg. She was clutching on to a chair, as if she intended to use it to ward off any further blows. ‘You know what you are, Meg?’ she said with all the contempt she could muster. ‘You’re a slag! The Hornsey bike that everyone gets a free ride on. Why don’t you go on the game? You could make a fortune.’
Back in her own bedroom, Charlie put a chair under the door handle, then began flinging her clothes into her two cases. She filled them to capacity, then shoved the remainder into her pillow-cases. She was scared now, the flat was silent and she had no idea if Meg was planning a counter-attack. She had to get out quickly.
It was a tense moment as she unlocked the door and struggled out with a suitcase in each hand and the pillow-cases under her arms. But Meg wasn’t out in the living room waiting for her. Charlie reached the outside door before the girl appeared again, now dressed.
‘You owe me money for bills,’ she yelled.
‘You’ve got my deposit and this week’s rent,’ Charlie shouted back. ‘Go and steal something if you haven’t got enough, that’s what you usually do, isn’t it?’
Charlie was down the stairs and just about to open the front door when Meg’s voice rang out again from the top of the house. ‘I’ve had him already,’ she called out. ‘I had him Friday night, Saturday afternoon, and when he’d finished work he came back again for the whole night. He’s got a nice big prick, hasn’t he?’
Charlie didn’t know how she managed to get to the phone box on Crouch Hill. Aside from the problem of trying to carry so much heavy stuff, she was blinded by tears and quivering with shock. She could only walk a few steps at a time before resting, then picked the cases up again. But she finally managed it and telephoned Rita.
The phone rang and rang, and Charlie was just about to give up in despair, when Rita answered it.
‘Of course you can come here,’ she said, without any hesitation even though Charlie wasn’t able to explain properly through her tears. ‘Now, just stay in the phone box and ring for a taxi. The address is 44 Church Road, Paddington. My flat is above a sweet shop.’
Two hours later Charlie found herself being tucked into a narrow single bed by Rita. She was too exhausted from crying, too weary and distressed to ask any questions, but she sensed she was in a child’s room. Rita had been so kind. She’d listened, let her cry, then run her a bath and given her some hot milk and a sleeping pill. By the time Charlie got out of the bath, Rita had hung up all her dresses, put the rest of her clothes in drawers, even the picture of her parents was beside the small bed.
‘Sleep tight, lovey,’ Rita said, bending to kiss her cheek. ‘I know your heart feels as if it’s been shattered, but it will mend in time. Tomorrow evening after work we’ll talk everything through again and plan what you’re going to do. But go to sleep now.’
‘I thought he loved me. Why did he do it?’ Charlie asked. She was groggy now, but the question was nagging at her.
‘Because men think with their dicks more often than with their heads,’ Rita replied. ‘And that’s why I don’t bother with them any more.’
Rita sat deep in thought for some time after she’d put Charlie to bed. She knew why Meg had done what she did, because she’d been exactly like Meg herself when she was younger. Maybe it was because they were oversexed, or suffered from some deep-seated insecurity, probably a mixture of both. Rita remembered only too well what a thrill it was to steal another girl’s man. Available ones were no challenge.
Yet she was puzzled by Andrew. Although she’d never met him, from things Charlie had told her, she felt she knew him. Why would a sensitive, intelligent man like him take the risk of losing a bright, lovely girl like Charlie, to dabble with a grubby hippie art student? It wasn’t as if Charlie had come back unexpectedly. He knew she might walk through the door at any minute!
But Charlie’s distress about tonight’s events wasn’t all that was on Rita’s mind. Charlie was young and resilient, in a few weeks’ time she would be over the worst of it. But Rita knew from her own experience that when one door closes on a person’s life, they usually look for another to open. Charlie had barely mentioned her desire to solve the mystery of her father’s disappearance in the past few months, her mind had been purely on Andrew. But now, without Andrew around, she might very well turn back to it.