Laura's Big Break (14 page)

“Five years this week, we’re here to celebrate our anniversary. We had a fight and he stormed off. You see, he wanted to bring the twins, but I said we needed time alone. You know how it is.”

The woman looked from one to the other, it was clear she didn’t know what to think. Charlie made a little circle motion beside his temple to indicate Laura was bonkers. Laura narrowed her eyes.

“Oh dear, he’s been using that doctor line again, hasn’t he?” She cupped her mouth as though whispering at the girl. “He likes to boost his ego; he’s still embarrassed about being a stay at home dad.”

She had the blonde’s full attention again. She leaned over and patted him on the hand.

“I keep telling you honey, you don’t need to feel insecure, you are attractive. I don’t value you any less because you don’t work. Looking after the kids and making dinner is important stuff.”

“I need to go see my friends,” the girl told them before making a hurried exit.

“Good idea,” Laura said.

Charlie growled at the evil pixie. Once the girl was gone Laura turned to him.

“We can talk here, shouting our business to anyone who can hear or we can go somewhere else. Your choice.”

“How about not at all?”

She had that look in her eye that signalled she was about thirty seconds away from causing serious damage.

“Fine.” He pointed to the old stone bridge over the canal. “Over there.”

They walked in silence across the cobbled street towards the bridge. When they got to the middle of it Charlie leaned against the wall, his back to the canal. Laura stood in front of him, hands on hips, like it made her bigger and more intimidating. Yeah, right.

“I’m not interested in anything you have to say,” he told her.

“Fine. You can listen anyway.” She stuck her little nose in the air and glared at him from behind huge glasses. “You knew why I came on this trip. I’m here for an interview, for a women’s magazine. Just how did you think this would go exactly? Did you expect them to do a detailed report on the war on terror? To print graphs and statistics? Seriously, this is how we hook women in. The story will be light but it will take the topic seriously. It will take you seriously. So how about you get over yourself and grow up?”

The yellow lights glowing along the canal bank made the air around Laura glow, which was slightly disconcerting - she looked like a really grumpy angel.

“Grow up? Really? You’re telling me to grow up? Who exactly made you the judge of all things mature? Let’s have a look at your life shall we?”

Laura started to say something but he held up a hand, so she stopped, which surprised him.

“One.” He ticked the points off on his fingers. “You are being blackmailed into writing a story you don’t want to write to keep a job you don’t really want. And why? Because you’re too much of a coward to take a chance and do something else.”

Laura snapped.

“Do something else? Get another job?”

She took a step towards him and poked at his chest.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about. You just float around doing what you like, expecting your family to put you up when you need it. Well it doesn’t work like that for the rest of us, buster. Some of us have to be responsible.”

“Responsible, responsible. That’s all I hear. You’re a coward. If you wanted to get another job, a better job, you’d get one.”

He was pretty sure he could see steam coming out of her ears as the top of her head turned red.

“We’re in the middle of a massive recession, moron, jobs aren’t lying on the pavement. You don’t just pick one up. And what do I have to offer anyway? Eight years writing about vampires. Eight years.”

He opened his mouth to take issue with that, but shut it again when she threw her hands up in the air and stamped one foot.

“I took the first job that was offered. Teen mags. Once you start off in a path you’re stuck there. My only option was a related field that was willing to take a chance on me. Women’s magazines. That was it. And after three years trying, I got this crappy job. What do you think would have happened if I’d rocked up to the BBC and asked to report on Africa or the Middle East? Or called National Geographic and asked to write about a journey through South America?”

She poked him in the chest again. He got the impression she was trying to do actual damage with her tiny finger.

“You are such a moron. I haven't had a roommate since Maddie got married, but I do have double the rent and no place else to go if I can’t pay it. Unlike you, I don’t have family to take me in. The last time I was between houses my dad paid for a hotel room for a week for me, he said having me at home disturbed his creative rhythm and he had an exhibition coming up. I couldn’t even find my mother to see if she could help, turns out she was shacked up with the very young male lead in her latest play. So if I lose my job what do I do? Can I come stay with you?” She smacked her forehead. “Oh no, I can’t because you are house sitting for your sister and then you’ll go back to your parent’s house while you try to find yourself.”

She stepped towards him, her fury gaining momentum with every word that came out of her mouth. Charlie took a step back, only to find the bridge blocking his retreat. He was pretty sure that the guys who disabled bombs might be able to handle her, but he was out of his depth.

“Let me give you some advice. You’re thirty five. There is nothing to find. You are a complete person. All you have to do is take stock and move on with your life. In other words, stop acting like a teenager. Be responsible for yourself. Make some decisions and stand by them. That’s what I do. That’s what I’ve always had to do. You see, while you have had the luxury of being a teenager for most of your life, I never got the chance to be one at all. In my house I was born the adult. And here I am again. Making the hard choices, dealing with an unreasonable boss who is blackmailing me to get a story I told her I didn’t want to do and didn’t think I could get anyway. And are you helping? No. You are getting in my way.”

She turned away from him. Charlie felt his own anger beginning to build.

“The mess you’ve made isn’t my fault, sweet cakes. You used me to get a story. I told you that I’d talk at the end of the trip but you couldn’t wait. So you had to go manipulate things. You knew exactly what you were doing when you asked me to go swimming. You knew what you were doing when you wrote all about the hot doc as a teaser. You used me. So don’t go getting all huffy on me now.”

“Well you used me too,” she spun back at him. “You said you wanted me when all you really wanted was any woman that came along. I was just convenient.”

She waved her hand in the direction of the blond she’d scared away. Charlie’s eyes narrowed.

“Damn straight I was using you. If I have to suffer your controlling, judgemental behaviour for the duration of my holiday then I figured I may as well make the best of it.”

She looked as though she’d been slapped. Anger took over Charlie’s words.

“And let me tell you, it wasn’t worth it, there are plenty of women who can make me feel a whole lot better than you could.”

She reeled backwards.

“Well why don’t you go get one?” she said.

“That’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

He stormed in the direction of the bar.

“Fine!” Laura shouted behind him.

He didn’t care. There was no one in the world that could make him as mad as the Iron Maiden could. He’d had enough of her. He was going to find a nice uncomplicated woman and have some fun.

Laura could jump in the canal for all he cared.

Laura was oblivious to the quaint crooked houses that lined the street. The sparkling canal decked out in fairy lights made no impression. She stumbled over centuries old cobble stones, marched over the old wooden bridge and through the gate that told people it was built 1682. She was running on rage.

All she could think of, all she could hear, were his words.

She was boring. She was cowardly. And worst of all, she was convenient.

She kicked a stone sending it flying into the canal. It plopped before disappearing in the blackness.

“Hey,” a voice called behind her, “it’s the air bed girl.”

She ignored it. A second later two guys appeared, one on each side of her.

“Remember us?” the floppy haired one said. “We helped you the night you fell asleep with your bum stuck out the tent.”

Laura looked between the two of them, they were young, maybe late teens and they seemed harmless enough.

“I sabotaged your boyfriend’s bike,” the one on her left said.

“I remember you now.”

She kept up her fast pace, propelled by rage.

“Where are you going?” the other one asked.

“Campsite.”

“We’ll walk with you,” they told her.

Laura stopped walking.

“Look boys, I don’t need the company. I’m fine.”

They shared a look.

“Oh, oh, did you and your boyfriend have a fight?” the floppy haired one said.

The other nodded.

“Yeah we saw him at the tent earlier and he was pretty mad.”

Laura glared at the two of them.

“He was mad? He had no right being mad; I’m the one that has to put up with him.”

She spun on her heels, the guys marched alongside her. She was fuming.

“He’s just like my mother,” she told them. They nodded, clueless but attentive. “Every time he gets bored, or things get tough, he goes running off to find another woman. And that’s fine when it’s just him. But this time I’m here. And we were together. Or at least I thought we were.” She looked at the two of them aware that she was rambling and not making any sense.

They didn’t seem bothered; in fact they seemed kind of thrilled to be included.

“He shouldn’t be running off with other women when he’s with you,” one of them said.

“Exactly. And what am I supposed to do? Act like my dad, pretend it isn’t happening or throw a hissy fit and then expect someone else to sort it out? I’m not that crazy. Charlie said it. I’m the sensible one. I don’t lose control.”

One of them patted her shoulder reassuringly.

“But I do take chances.” Her anger built with each step she took. “I’m here aren’t I? Putting up with this rubbish, trying to get a story. I was going to sleep with him. If that isn’t losing control then what is?”

“You tell him sister,” the floppy guy said.

“And now he’s off chasing other women. Sleeping with other women. When he said he wanted me.”

She turned to face them at the entrance of the camp. They looked a little stunned.

“He told me himself, he said: when you want someone you don’t run off with someone else. So what is that supposed to make me think?”

They looked at each other then shrugged.

“Well?” she demanded.

“That he doesn’t want you?” one ventured, looking a little confused.

“Exactly!” They looked pleased that they had the right answer.

She stormed through the gate.

“He is a low life. A scum sucker. A belly crawler.”

She confronted her two new friends.

“I tell you one thing. There’s no way he’s bringing a girl back to his tent.”

They nodded like it was the wisest thing she’s said. Laura’s eye began to twitch furiously. She pressed a finger to stop it and the other one started.

“She makes me crazy,” Charlie told the girl in front of him. She patted his hand as she sipped a drink that was multi coloured and had an umbrella. “Not just today. Oh no. This has been going on as long as I’ve known her. Today was just special.”

The cafe bar was packed with people in their twenties; he felt a little old for the crowd, but the woman sitting with him was nice. What was her name again? He wasn’t sure.

“She’s seriously judgemental. It’s all - what are you doing with your life? You’re wasting your talent. You’re so immature, Charlie. I’m immature? She’s the one that won’t quit a job she hates and do something with her life.”

“Maybe she is a little scared?” the brunette offered.

Charlie blinked. For a minute he’d forgotten she was there.

“Cowardly. Too scared to do something that isn’t planned in detail.”

The brunette smiled.

“You know, maybe you balance each other out. You can take all the chances and she can keep your feet on the ground. A good team, no?”

Charlie held up his hands.

“No. No. No. It’s nothing like that.”

She smiled pleasantly as the waitress stopped to take their order. Charlie bought another round, something multi-coloured for her and coffee for him.

“See, the thing that gets to me most,” he told his new friend, “is that this whole responsibility thing isn’t even her. It’s conditioning. Her parents are nuts and she’s been the sane one all her life. Who knows what her real personality would be like if she just loosened up a bit.”

The girl smiled sagely.

“I’m not even mad that she used me to get pictures for her boss. I’m mad because she won’t stand up to the witch in the first place.”