Guess Who I Pulled Last Night? (11 page)

“Please Bets, sit down,” he whispered.

Her gaze was fixed, and Bets spoke in a barely audible
voice.  “What happened?”

Kelvin shook his head, “I’m not sure, his dad didn’t say
much, something to do with a junkie.”

“W-w-when did they contact you?” she asked, now turning to
Kelvin.

“Late last night, I was supposed to be going around to his parents
today, to help set up their new computer.  I suppose that they didn’t want
me arriving unaware of what had happened.”  Kelvin dropped his head again,
sounding almost apologetic, for being told before Bets. 

Bets sensed how he seemed to be feeling.  “Kelvin,
don’t feel guilty, they probably don’t even know that I exist.”  Bets
smiled gently at him.

“They do, well I know that his sister does at least, because
Stuart told me.  I’m sorry I should have called you last night.” 
Kelvin ran a cool palm along Bet’s cheek.  “He really liked you Bets. I
only spoke to him on Saturday, and he told me then how happy you made
him.  I’ve never heard him talk about anyone like that before.”

Bets gave a watery smile the tears were now falling freely
down her face.  “I really liked him too.  He was a wonderful, lovely
man; in fact, he’d persuaded me that this relationship lark can be quite
good.”  She tried to laugh, but all that escaped was a deep heart-rending
sob.  “I’m sorry Kelvin, but I really liked him.”

Kelvin wasn’t sure how long he held Bets, but it was as long
as it took the sobs and tears to subside.  They rocked together, steadily,
while Kelvin stroked Bets’ unruly curls, her shoulders jerking
involuntarily.  Eventually, she peeled away, desperate to wipe her running
nose.

“Oh God Kelvin, I’m sorry, but I’ve got snot all over your
shoulder.”  Kelvin glanced down and they both allowed a small laugh to
escape.  “You really are going to miss him, aren’t you?”  Bets asked,
as she wiped her eyes and nose with some soggy tissue that she had fished out
of her dressing gown pocket.

Kelvin nodded slowly, a smile creeping to his lips. 
“Yeah, I am going to miss him. He was a good mate. I'm just glad that we got
back in touch over the last few years.”

“Hmm, I can understand that, he was good company,” Bets
said, playing with the belt on her dressing gown.  “Funny isn’t it, how
things turn out?”

“What do you mean,” asked Kelvin.

“Well I find someone I like, who I am even considering
settling down with, and then…” Bets gasped for breath, trying to hold in a
sob. 

Kelvin, wasn't really sure what to do, so stood
up.            “Shall I
make some tea?” he asked, making backwards steps to the kitchen.

“No thanks Kelvin, actually if you don’t mind I think that
I’d rather be on my own for a while.”

“Are you sure?”  Kelvin knelt beside Bets and rested a
hand on her knee.

She nodded glumly, a handful of tissues clutched against her
mouth. 

As he stood up, Kelvin kissed her gently on top of her
head.  “One of us will call you later.  Do you want the girls to come
around?"  He didn’t want to push anything, but he didn’t want Bets to
be alone either.

“No, no, please I’ll be fine. I'll call them if I need
anything,” Bets noticed the look of concern on Kelvin’s face.  “I
promise.”

Kelvin nodded and quietly let himself out, rubbing Alfred’s
head as he passed him in the hallway.  Alfred wandered up to Bets and
sniffed at her limp hand hanging down. He could sense that she didn’t want to
play, but licked her fingers gently.  Bets moved back on the sofa, curling
her feet under her. She held a cushion to her stomach and stared at the
emptiness of the flat.  Before long, Alfred jumped up and pushed himself
into the gap between Bets and the back of the sofa. Bets manoeuvred around
until she was looking at him and the tears slowly started to crawl down her
face, splashing onto the little dog’s head.

“Oh Alfred, I feel…” Sighing heavily Bets realised that she
didn’t know how she felt.  She laid her head on the cushion, next to
Alfred’s, and now closed her eyes.  She slept restfully for three hours
with Alfred by her side.

The funeral, a week later, was a strange day for Bets. 
She had only been with Stuart a short time, but their feelings for each other
had been real.  She was angry that no one seemed to acknowledge her. 
His family didn’t seem to know who she was, there was no loving reference to
her in the eulogy, and it was as if their relationship had never existed. 
Kelvin had been brilliant, so had Kerry and Charlotte, but particularly Kelvin,
probably because he was feeling the same sense of loss. 

Apparently, Stuart had been rushing to his dinner meeting
when a junkie approached him, asking for change, as he got off the tube. 
Stuart had given him a couple of pounds, but had said that he needed the rest
of his change for the tube journey back to his hotel.  The junkie didn’t
like this, and had started to have a go at him.  Stuart, who was in a
rush, decided to ignore him and had walked away, infuriating the junkie even
more.  He stabbed Stuart, straight between the shoulder blades.  The
junkie was so out of it that he didn’t even attempt to get away, and he was
arrested almost immediately.  Stuart died on the way to the hospital.

On the Saturday morning after the funeral, Bets had decided
to tidy up, to try to keep her mind off things.  She was leafing through
some magazines, deciding whether to keep them or not, when a piece of paper
floated across the floor, Bets picked it up, instantly recognising the writing
as that on the card with her roses; it was from Stuart.

Bets,

I’ve left you sleeping while I go
off to the big city to do some business, but I just wanted to leave you this
note.  It will be strange not to spend tonight with you, cuddled up next
to me, but you can be sure that I will be thinking about you, and counting
every minute.  I didn’t want to wake you again to tell you this, because
you looked so beautiful, but I think that I might just be falling in love with
you.  This last two weeks have been wonderful, and it’s all down to you. I
can’t wait to see you tomorrow.

Lots of hugs and kisses.

Stuart xxx

Bets hugged the piece of paper to her chest, as tears slid
silently down her face and landed on to the magazine on her lap.  Everyone
left her, Mum, Dad, Barney her rabbit when she was six and now Stuart, she was
never ever going to get close to anyone again.

While Bets was finding the note from Stuart, Charlotte was
on a shopping spree.  She realised that she really should start her Christmas
shopping, but the desire to spend money on herself was far too great,
particularly after the previous day’s events.

An hour spent at Stuart’s parent’s house had been enough for
Bets, she couldn’t cope with how grief stricken his parents and sister were,
and as Bets had told Kerry, it had reminded her of her parents’ funerals. 
So, the four of them had been sitting in The Gander for about an hour and a
half, in a silence peppered with sighs.  Kelvin drained his glass and
stood up to get another round in.

“Same again everyone?” he asked.

Bets shook her head. “No I don’t think so Kelvin, I feel
miserable enough as it is, anymore, and I think I will end up bursting into
tears.”

“Orange juice?” questioned Kelvin, disappearing as Bets
nodded her head.

“Maybe that would be a good thing, crying I mean,” said
Kerry as she smoothed down her black skirt.

“Have you still not cried since the day it happened?” 
Charlotte seemed concerned; it wasn’t good for anyone to bottle things
up.  She felt sure that it would be worse for Bets, with the amount of
personal loss that she’d already had to deal with.

Bets shook her head.  “No I haven’t, I just feel too
numb to do anything.  I’m not really sure how I’m supposed to react, if
the truth be known.  It’s not as if we were together very long, is it?”

Charlotte put a comforting hand on Bet’s shoulder. “Bets, I
don’t really think that there is any special etiquette in these situations; it
doesn’t matter how long you were together. You liked him and should be able to
grieve how you want to.”

“I think that it’s proven one thing,” said Kerry, “and
that’s that life is too short.”

Then Kelvin reappeared with a tray of drinks and laid it on
the table. “I got us all doubles, and put vodka in your orange juice Bets. I've
got plenty of tissues.”

Silently, they all reached for their drinks, carrying on as
they started for the next hour and a half, before rather drunkenly wending
their way home.

When Charlotte had woken that morning the feeling of
melancholy, experienced in the pub the previous day, still hung over her. 
This was when she decided to hit the shops, and bend her plastic.  She had
been in Chester for an hour when the headache started to kick in.  She
wasn’t sure whether it was a hangover or the heat in the shops, but it didn’t
really matter. She needed painkillers.  Charlotte picked up two boxes from
the shelf, and decided to have a wander through the store, maybe she could buy
some new cosmetics.  As she ambled along, swinging her wire basket, she
remembered that Rachel, one of the Consultants, was getting married next week,
and that they would be dressing her up on Friday.  Smiling
conspiratorially, Charlotte made her way to the counter where the condoms were
on display; you couldn’t have a hen without about ten condoms hanging from a
makeshift veil.  She picked up two packets of fine ribbed, multi-coloured
ones and threw them into her basket.  Swinging around to go back towards
the cosmetics counter she was suddenly faced with the broad shoulder of Niall
Devine.

“Hello there, doing some shopping are yer?” he asked,
nodding at her basket, a small smile upon his lips.  “I presume that
you’re not taking any chances.”

“What?” Charlotte asked, somewhat bemused, and now also
looking at her goods.

“Painkillers and condoms, and two packets of each, he must
be quite demanding, that fiancé of yours.”  Niall looked over Charlotte’s
shoulder, showing no apparent interest in her expected response.

“If you must know,” Charlotte said petulantly, “I have a
headache now and the condoms are to hang from a veil made from net curtain. One
of the girls at work is getting married next week.”  She stared at Niall
intensely, daring him to look away again, but his attention was now all on her.

“Don’t feel that you have to explain to me, I was only joking. 
You know what a joke means, don’t you?” he asked, folding his arms in front of
him.

Charlotte was now fuming, oh so what if he was a client, he
wasn’t being particularly professional or respectful to her was he? “Of course
I do, but to be honest I wouldn’t have put the two together, you and
joking.  Now if you don’t mind I have other shopping to do.” 
Charlotte stormed off, jostling the rest of the shoppers, her cosmetics
forgotten she went to pay.  Waiting in the queue, Charlotte slowly turned
around, nonchalantly trying to spot Mr Devine again in the crowd, but he had
disappeared.

“Prat,” she muttered to herself, while pulling her hair up
into a messy bun.

Another hour, two dresses, one trouser suit and a pair of
boots later, Charlotte was ready for something to eat and drink.  As she
began to make her way across to her favourite pizza place, she heard her name
being called.  Spinning around she spotted Tom, waving frantically at her
from a shop doorway.  He quickly ran across and kissed Charlotte on the
cheek.

“Hello Sis, what are you doing here?” he asked. 
Charlotte didn’t answer, but nodded towards the bags in her hands.  “Oh
spoiling yourself are you?  Had any lunch yet?”

Charlotte shook her head and smiled, aware that Tom was about
to sponge a free lunch.  “No, just going, would you like to join me for
pizza?”

Tom frowned and dug his hand deep inside his pocket. 
“I’d love to, but I’m skint.  I’ve bought this pair of trainers,” he said,
tapping the bag in his hand.  Tom only ever took just enough money with
him when shopping, otherwise he had been known to spend a whole week’s wages on
a shirt or pair of trousers.

“Go on then I’ll shout your lunch.  What are you doing
anyway, Saturday is your busiest day, why aren’t you in the shop?” Charlotte
shoved a couple of her bags into Tom’s hands.

“Cameron has just jetted over for a few days, so said that I
could take the day off.”  Cameron was Tom’s boss who spent most of his
time in Magaluf, with his partner Brian.

“So my beautiful sister, what have you been buying yourself
then?” Tom asked, as he slipped an arm around Charlotte’s shoulder, and kissed
her on the cheek.

“Oh nothing much, just a few bits,” replied Charlotte,
gently pinching his waist with her spare hand. “I felt the need to spend.
That's all.”

“So Mr Devine, your watch should be here by Wednesday, is
that okay?” The shop assistant asked, as he looked expectantly at Niall.

Niall didn’t answer; the couple in the street outside seemed
to be distracting him. "Mr Devine is that okay?”

“Oh sorry, Wednesday did you say?  Sure that’s fine.”

“Charlotte, it’s me Kelvin.”  Kelvin quickly checked
through the window, hoping that Kerry was still talking to their neighbour.

“Hiya, how are you?” Charlotte asked, sensing that the reply
was not going to be particularly positive.

“I'm not too bad, considering.  Have you seen Bets this
week?”

“No, I can’t get her on her mobile or home phone, and I’ve
called around twice but there is no sign.”

“Maybe she’s gone away for a few days.  Listen, sorry
to change the subject, but you know the conversation that you had with Kerry a
couple of weeks ago, in our kitchen?”

“Yes, what about it, are things any better?”  Charlotte
winced; she knew the answer really.

“No, nothing has changed.  I know we said that it would
take time, but it’s getting worse if anything.  She’s leaving Esme nearly
every day with her mum or mine, and she’s still spending money as though we’ve
got a never-ending supply.”

“Oh, Kelvin, I’m sorry.  I thought that after our chat,
things might improve.”

Kelvin sighed deeply on the other end, obviously at the end
of his tether.  “The thing is, she is now spending more and more time with
that tart from across the road.  She’s become a real party animal in the
last week, out every night. I assume with Caroline, until well past closing
time.”

Charlotte realised what Kelvin was getting at, but surely he
knew Kerry better than that.

“She wouldn’t do anything Kelvin, if that’s what you are
worried about, she loves you too much.  You know how high her morals are,
especially regarding marriage vows.”

“I know Charlotte, and I do try to trust her, but her
attitude does make me wonder.  She wants to know how I dare question where
she’s been, but come on, any man would question his wife coming home gone
midnight on a week night.”  Kelvin rubbed his chin in despair, taking
another look through the window.

“Oh God,” groaned Charlotte.  “Do you want me to try to
talk to her again?”

“I hate to put this on to you Charlotte, but I don’t know what
else to do.  She’s not speaking to me anyway because I’ve taken her credit
card away.”

Charlotte tried to think quickly of the best plan of action;
it needed to be quick.  “Okay, are you playing football this afternoon?”

“Yes, two o’clock, why?”

“I’ll come around then, look Kelvin, we will get it sorted;
I promise.”

“I know, but at what cost.” Kelvin sighed.

“Try not to worry, and I’ll speak to you later, bye.” 

Charlotte had tried to sound positive, but she wasn’t wholly
sure that this could be sorted out, not soon anyway.  She had to try
though, for both Kelvin and Kerry’s sakes.

Charlotte pulled up outside Kerry and Kelvin’s semi-detached
house in one of the leafy avenues on the outskirts of town.  She loved
this house and had been with Kerry when she had first spotted it in the estate
agent’s window.  She knocked on the door, slightly nervous about what to
expect. They had been friends forever and Kerry had always been the stable one,
the sensible one, not at all like she was being now.  When the door
eventually opened Charlotte was surprised by what she saw.  Kerry had
never been shy about her figure, but being bigger than Charlotte and Bets she
had always dressed extremely carefully and expensively, accentuating her ample
bust and bottom.  But, today her rules of fashion had totally gone out of
the window.  Kerry was wearing something that Charlotte could see Bets in,
a short leather skirt and tight logo T-shirt emblazoned with “apprentice
trollop."  The skirt didn’t look too bad, but the whole ensemble just
wasn’t Kerry.

“Hi, what are you doing here?” Kerry asked, as she held the
door open wider.

“Charming greeting I must say,” quipped Charlotte, trying to
lighten the mood, yet all the time mesmerised by Kerry’s appearance.  Not
only were the clothes awful, but she had flouted every bit of guidance that
Bets had given to them both on make-up.  She was wearing totally the wrong
colours for someone of her complexion.

“I assume that you’ve come to lecture me, it seems to be the
only reason why you ever come over these days.  Anyway, I’m going out
soon.”  She banged the door shut behind Charlotte, her abrasive tone
startling her friend.

“Why, where are you going, somewhere nice?”  Charlotte
sat down on the chair, next to where Esme was playing.  She bent down, and
gently rubbed her goddaughter’s head.

“Don’t start; you’re as bad as Kelvin.  I’m going to
the pub with Caroline from across the road.”  She pointed to a scruffy
house opposite.

“What nineteen years-old Caroline; Pat’s daughter, from
across there?”  Charlotte incredulous, nodded her head towards the lounge
window. Caroline was well known as the local “good time girl”.

“Yes and so what?  She’s good company.  At least,
she doesn’t badger me every minute, asking what’s wrong.  Oh, why don’t
you get lost Charlotte?”

Esme looked up on hearing Kerry’s raised voice. 
Charlotte was startled at how quickly Kerry was losing her temper.

“Hey, just calm down will you?  What’s got into you,
you’re not nineteen you know.  Don’t forget you will be thirty in
January.”

“Yes, and your point is?”

“I’m all for staying young Kerry, but this is
ridiculous!”  Charlotte cried, pointing a finger at Kerry’s attire.

Charlotte hadn’t wanted to go in hard, not this soon, but
she instantly knew that the soft approach wouldn’t work.  She had tried
that before?

Kerry stood up with her hands on her hips.  “Who do you
think you are, telling me what to do with my life?  Who is the one with
the husband and baby, not you that’s for sure?  Keep your nose out,
okay?"

“No I won’t, because I’m telling you for your own good; you
won’t have a husband and a baby for much longer. Please Kerry, just go and see
someone who can help you.”  Charlotte paused slightly, trying to work out
the best words.  “Or at least be honest with Kelvin, and tell him if you
don’t want him anymore.”  Her voice was almost a whisper now. “You owe him
that at least.”

Kerry’s eyes were shining, at first Charlotte thought with
anger, but then she realised that they were unshed tears.

“How can you ask me that Charlotte? Of course I still want
him, I told you before how I felt.  I thought that you understood.”

Charlotte shook her head slowly.  “I know what you
said, but you have made no attempt to do anything about it, so no; I don’t
think I do understand you.  I’m sorry Kerry, but I really don’t know why
you would want to throw away what you’ve got.”

Kerry stared, unblinking, ahead.  “Well neither do I,”
she whispered. “I get fed up being stuck in this house every day.  I just
think that life should be more than washing, ironing, cooking and
cleaning.  Look at poor Stuart; you are a long time dead, so why not have
a good time now?”

“Kerry, it’s more than having a good time.  You could
do that with Kelvin, with us.  It’s you, and how you are feeling, and how
you are treating people. It's not like you.” Charlotte turned towards the
door.  The lack of expression on Kerry’s face made her realise that she
may as well be talking to a brick wall.

“Maybe this is the real me.”

Charlotte stopped, her hand resting on the door handle. “I
don’t think so Kerry, but if that’s what you want to believe, then go ahead,
throw your life away.”  Charlotte moved back into the room to kiss Esme
before leaving, a deep sadness engulfing her.

As Charlotte was about to get into her car, she saw Kelvin
coming around the corner on his bike, he stopped as he got near to her.

“How did it go?” he asked, hopeful that she had been able to
talk some sense into his wife.

Charlotte shook her head. “She’s not interested Kelvin; basically,
she’s intent on having a good time and sod the consequences.  I do know
that it isn’t you specifically, she still loves you and wants you.”

Kelvin’s eyes glimmered for a second, but then the frown
reappeared. “Well that doesn’t really change how she is making me feel.  I
suppose that she is still going out with Caroline?”  Charlotte nodded in
reply.  “Well I told her before I went out, if she goes she shouldn't come
back,” Kelvin said, playing distractedly with the seat of his bicycle.

Charlotte gasped involuntarily. “And do you mean that?” she
asked, grasping hold of Kelvin’s hand.

“If it’s the only thing that will get through to her, then
yes.  What do you think?”

“She not my wife, and it’s not my marriage love. You have to
make that decision yourself.  Just think long and hard about it, please,”
Charlotte begged, wishing with all her heart that Kerry would suddenly see
sense.

“I have thought hard about it already Charlotte; I can’t see
any other way.  Look, thanks for trying, but I think it’s down to me
now.”  He turned and walked up the drive, pushing his bicycle at the side
of him.  Looking to Charlotte like a nervous teenager.

Charlotte’s heart was almost breaking, knowing that the
decision had already been made.  She got into the car and decided to go
and see Tom, who was alone while their parents visited relations in
Bournemouth.  Charlotte had to talk to someone, and she figured that her
baby brother was better than nobody.

“Alright Sis, do you fancy a cuppa?”  Tom was lazing on
the sofa as Charlotte walked in.

“Yeah, okay.”  Charlotte leaned against his resting
place and stared, unseeing, at the T.V.

“No sugar for me, please.”  Tom smiled, as he laughed
at his own joke.  

Charlotte too tired to argue, shuffled into the kitchen and
turned the kettle on.  As she reached up for two mugs, Tom came in behind
her. 

“You’re not fun anymore. I expected at least a small
argument,” muttered Tom, but then Charlotte started to cry.  “Hey, what’s
the matter, come on don’t cry?  Is Charley Farley going to tell Tommy
Pickles what’s wrong?”

Charlotte broke into a smile at the sound of their childhood
nicknames.  “Oh Tom, it’s awful.”

They drank their mugs of tea, made by Tom, as Charlotte told
him everything. She told him about Kerry and Kelvin, Stuart and Bets, and
finally about Mr Devine and Grant.

“Bloody hell, what a pisser,” groaned Tom. “No wonder you
are crying.  So what do you think Kelvin will do?”  He passed
Charlotte a handful of chocolate digestives.

“I don’t know,” she shrugged. “I think short term, he’ll
probably go to his mum’s maybe, but I’m worried that if he does it could turn
into a long term thing.  I don’t think either of them wants that.  I
just wish it could be sorted out.”  Charlotte dunked a biscuit into her
tea before popping it, whole, into her mouth.

“Couldn’t Bets speak to her?” Tom asked, and then answered
his own question. “No, not the right time I suppose.”

“Exactly, she’s not in good shape herself.  I know that
they’d only just become a couple, but she’s taken Stuart’s death pretty badly.”

“I suppose it must bring it all back about her mum and dad,
plus she’s probably grieving for what could have been.  Now she’ll never
know whether this was the one.”

Charlotte smiled and pinched Tom’s cheek.  “When did
you get so wise little brother?”  For all his bravado, he was a genuinely
thoughtful man, and she loved him dearly.

“Not so little now, I’m 26 soon, and I can wipe my own bum.”

“Can’t drink tea though can you?” Charlotte giggled,
pointing at the dark cream splashes on his pristine white T-shirt.

“Oh shit, Charlotte quick, tell me how to use the washing
machine.”

Three hours later Charlotte decided that it was time to go
home.  They’d had a lovely afternoon, watching old episodes of Grange Hill
and Byker Grove.  Tom treated them both to a Chinese Take Away, finished
off with a whole Arctic Roll between them. Charlotte now felt incredibly
bloated and fat.  They had talked as well, and Tom had told her to imagine
Mr Devine on the loo each time he ignored Charlotte or was rude to her. 
Charlotte smiled to herself - such wise words from one so stupid.  She had
to admit though, he had been right about Bets. She did need to get back on the
horse, as he had put it, and try to meet other people again.  Charlotte
decided there and then that she would call around tomorrow and help start Bets'
rehabilitation. 

As she opened her front door, she heard her mobile ringing
out.  Frantically, she started searching through her bag then just as she
found it the ringing stopped.  Once inside she dialled her voicemail; it
was Kelvin.

“Charlotte, it’s me, just to let you know I’m at Kerry’s
mum’s with Esme.  I don’t really want to involve my family at this stage,
and well, Sheila is as angry with her as I am.  She’s tried to talk to
her, like the rest of us, but hasn’t got anywhere.” Kelvin paused as he sighed
heavily. “Err, could you keep an eye on Kerry for me and let me know if she
needs anything.  I’m going to stay here for a week or so and see how
things go…err, hope that this makes sense to you, because to be honest it
doesn’t to me…err, see you soon, bye.”

Charlotte could have cried at the thought of what both Kerry
and Kelvin must be going through.  Kelvin must be really desperate, she
thought, to leave the house, and why hadn’t any of them been able to help
Kerry.  She went into the kitchen, fed Petula and then set about making
herself a cup of tea.  Charlotte sat at the kitchen table, waiting for the
kettle to boil on the gas hob, thinking about the mess that her two best
friends were in, and here she was worrying about some stupid prat who insisted
on ignoring her, how pathetic was she?  The home telephone ringing broke
Charlotte’s thoughts; she picked up the kitchen extension.

“Hello.”

“Hi Charlotte, it’s me.”

Charlotte could barely hear the whisper on the other end of
the line, but she recognised that it was Bet’s voice.