The New Neighbours (36 page)

“It's so much easier to have someone else there,” he explained, “especially as I can't go into the ladies' changing room with Debs.”

So, she had gone with them to the pool, to be with Debbie in the changing room, to help her shower and wash her hair after the swim and she found she enjoyed going with them. Mike had an easy relationship with his children and she found herself comfortable with them all and slipped easily into the family group.

She picked up her pen to finish her letter.

“There's this guy who lives opposite,” she wrote, “and I help him when he has his children to stay, (he's separated and they live with their mum usually). It isn't just babysitting, sometimes I go with them swimming to help the little one, Debbie, to get changed. Isn't it grand to be getting paid for having a free swim?

“Must stop now and do some work, lots of reading to catch up on! I'm really glad that I'm in my last year now. College is OK, but I can't wait to get back to you all for good. Give my love to everyone, a special kiss for Kirsty and say I miss you all. Write soon.

Lots of love Charlie. Xx”

As she sealed and addressed her letter at last, Charlie thought about Mike and his family. She knew that she was being less than honest with her mother about her growing friendship with Mike. She was beginning to look forward to her outings with him and his family, but she didn't want her mother to get the wrong idea. She knew Mum would worry if she thought Charlie was getting involved with another man, another older man, a divorced man.

Not that I am getting involved with him, Charlie thought defensively, I'm just the hired help, lending a hand when I'm needed. He certainly hasn't given me a second thought. It's just a comfortable friendship. There's no way I'm going to fall into the Duncan trap again.

She went downstairs and found Cirelle in the kitchen grabbing a sandwich before going over to help with Melanie's children.

“The kids are great,” Cirelle told her, “and the grandparents, you know, but that Melanie is a pain. You never know where you are with her. One day she's all over me and the next she hardly speaks to me. She's having counselling of some sort, but it doesn't seem to be doing much good. Still the money's good, hey?”

“Always useful,” agreed Charlie. “I'm sitting for Mike this evening too. Doesn't often have his kids to stay in the week, it must be a special occasion.”

“It's Dad's birthday,” Debbie explained when she arrived, “so we're all going out for a pizza. Dad said you could come too!”

“You told me babysitting,” Charlie said to Mike. He looked a bit sheepish and said, “I promised Debs I'd ask you, as a surprise.”

“I haven't even got you a card,” Charlie said.

“Doesn't matter,” cried Debbie grabbing her hand, “we're going for a pizza and we're going to sing the birthday song in the restaurant. Hurrah!” And sing they did, to the amazement of the other pizza-eaters.

Mike dropped Charlie off in the Circle before running the children back to Belmouth; they weren't staying the night because there was school in the morning.

As Charlie lay in bed that night, she thought about the pizza party and was touched that she should have been included.

Charlie and Annabel had become quite good friends after they had talked that first evening. Both of them were determined to do well in their studies and they were prepared to work hard to make up for what had gone before, but what really drew them together was their shared secrets. Charlie found it a great relief to have someone to talk to about Kirsty, someone she could tell of Kirsty's new achievements and the exploits she got up to, speaking openly and not pretending, as she normally did, that she was speaking of a younger sister. She had finally received a long letter from her mother with all the news about everyone at home, and Charlie read it over and over, and longed for the time when she could see Kirsty on a daily basis and not have to hear of her progress second-hand.

Similarly, Annabel, having confided in Charlie about Scott and the robbery, went on to confide in her about her father.

“Dad's on his own again now,” she told her. “The dreadful Desirée has buggered off, thank God, but Dad won't tell Mum that.”

“How do you know?” Charlie asked.

“I was round at Dad's and when I went into the bathroom, I realised that her washing stuff wasn't there, you know? The bedroom door was shut, but I looked more carefully in the living room, and there was only Dad's stuff there. I challenged him about it and he admitted to me that she'd left. But the thing is, he made me promise not to tell Mum. I don't know if they'll ever get back together again, probably not, but the trouble is if I don't talk to someone about it I shall burst.”

“Then tell me,” laughed Charlie, so Annabel did. Each was the confidante that the other one needed and their friendship grew.

Charlie was still happy enough in the Madhouse, but she didn't go out much as she had little money to spare for having fun. She was very grateful for the extra cash she earned from Mike Callow, but even so she wasn't able to save as much as she would have liked. She had bought her air ticket home for Christmas well ahead of time, buying an apex fare, which, though it was non-refundable, was very cheap.

It was several days before Mad's birthday that the phone call came. Charlie was working in the library and it was Cirelle, about to leave for a lecture, who took the call.

An Irish voice asked urgently if Charlie was there.

“No,” replied Cirelle, “sorry.”

“Will you take a message?” asked the woman.

“Yeah, of course. What is it?”

“This is her mother speaking, who am I speaking to?”

“It's Cirelle, Mrs Murphy, her house mate.”

“Well, Cirelle, please tell her that her… sister, Kirsty, is ill and would she phone home as soon as possible.”

“Yeah, sure. I'll write it down so that she gets the message as soon as she gets in. OK?”

“Yes, thank you. Do you know when she might be in?”

“Sorry, she didn't say.”

“Never mind. If you could leave the message somewhere where she's sure to see it as soon as she comes in. It is urgent.”

When they'd rung off, Cirelle wrote the message out and propped it up against the phone. She did think of going to see if she could find Charlie, but she was already running late, so she decided not to make herself any later. After all, Charlie would see the message the moment she got in.

Thus it was several hours later that Charlie had found the message by the telephone. She read it through… her sister, Kirsty. Charlie grabbed the phone and dialled.

“Mam! What's happened?”

“Charlie? Is that you? It's not your mam, it's me, Barbara. Your mam's at the hospital with Kirsty, I'm minding the little ones.”

“Barbara! What's happened? What's wrong with Kirsty?”

“They think she may have meningitis,” Barbara said carefully.

“Meningitis!” cried Charlie in horror. “How is she? I mean, what do they say? Oh God, Barbara, I must come home!”

“That's what your mam thinks,” Barbara agreed. There was a sound from the other end of the line and then Barbara said, “Hold on a minute, Charlie, that sounds like your dad come in now.”

Charlie's father came on to the line. “Charlie, it's Dad.”

“Dad, what's going on? How's Kirsty?”

“Not good, I'm afraid, Charlie. The doctors say it's touch and go. Your mother's at the hospital now and I'm just going to join her.” He paused and then said gently, “We think you'd better come over, Charlie. We have to prepare ourselves for the worst.” Charlie heard the break in his voice and the tears streamed down her own cheeks.

“I'm on my way, Dad,” she sobbed. “I'll fly. I'll ring you from the airport. Will you pick me up?”

“I will, of course,” her father said. “Just let me know the time. And Charlie…”

“Yes, Dad?”

“I've been to see Father Ryan, they're praying for her at the church.”

“Thanks, Dad. I'll ring you.” Charlie put the phone down, unable to cope with her father's obvious distress on top of her own. She sat gripping her fingers so tightly that the nails bit into the palms of her hands. She'd told Dad that she would come at once, that she'd fly, but she'd no money. Her overdraft was at its limit and her savings had gone on the ticket she'd already bought to go home at Christmas, and it couldn't be exchanged. There was no one in the house, but even if there had been, she doubted if anyone would have had the money to lend her for a normal airfare.

Annabel, she thought. I could ask Annabel, at least she knows why I have to go. Perhaps she's got some money saved for the baby—I could pay her back. As soon as she'd thought of it, Charlie was on her feet and off across the Circle to number four. Annabel was working in her bedroom, and when Chantal opened the door, Charlie went straight up.

“Hi, Charlie…” Annabel began.

“Kirsty's got meningitis,” Charlie burst out.

“What?” Annabel was horrified.

“Kirsty… she's got meningitis, at least they think she has. Annabel, I have to go home, but I've no money for the airfare. Have you? Have you got any money you could lend me? I'll pay it back by Christmas, I promise…” Her voice trailed away as she saw her friend's face.

“I'm sorry,” Annabel began, “if I had any cash at all I'd let you have it, honestly…”

Charlie buried her head in her hands. “Oh, Annabel, what am I going to do? I must get home. Dad says it's touch and go.” The tears began streaming down her face again, and Annabel put her arms round her, the only comfort she could offer.

“I don't know who to ask,” sobbed Charlie.

“What about Mike Callow?” said Annabel, suddenly inspired. “Ask Mike. Surely he could lend you the money. It would only be for a short while, wouldn't it? You get on well with him. He might let you work it off next term, so that you don't have to find the actual cash at all.” The more she thought about the idea, the more Annabel warmed to her theme. “You know him quite well enough to ask, and I'm sure he'd help if you if he could.” She looked out of her bedroom window, into the gloom of the November evening. “Look, his lights are on so he's at home now. Go over. Go over now and ask. After all he can only say no, but I bet he doesn't.” She pulled a wad of tissues from the box on her dressing table and pressed them into Charlie's hand. “Go on,” she urged, “go and ask Mike.”

Charlie said, “Annabel, you're brilliant!” She blew hard on the tissues and then giving Annabel a quick hug, rushed back downstairs and across the road.

When he heard the doorbell ring, Mike cursed inwardly. He had set the evening aside to work so that he would have the weekend clear for the children, and though he wasn't actually in his study yet, he didn't want to be disturbed. He pressed the entryphone and said in a voice calculated to deter visitors, “Yes?”

“Mike? It's Charlie.”

“Charlie!” Mike's voice and attitude changed on the instant. “Come on up!” He pressed the buzzer and as the door opened he was at the top of the stairs to greet her. One look told him that everything was far from well.

He tried to keep his immediate concern out of his voice, and simply said, “Charlie, what a nice surprise. Will you have a drink?” and led the way back into the living room.

Charlie managed a wan smile. “No, thanks, Mike.” She followed him and sat down on the sofa, while Mike dropped into the armchair opposite.

“Well then,” he said, “what can I do for you?”

“Please, Mike,” she began, but her voice was croaky and she began again. “Please Mike, can you lend me some money?” Then her words came flooding out. “I'm sorry to have to ask you and I wouldn't if I wasn't desperate. I'll pay you back as soon as I can, or I could work it off next term, whichever you liked…”

“Hey! Hey!” Mike laughed, “Hold on. What's all this about? Look,” he smiled across at her, “start again and tell me from the beginning, OK?”

Charlie had another blow on the tissues she was still clutching in her hand and then raised her eyes to meet his.

“It's my sister…” she began, but then something made her stop. If she was going to beg money from him, Mike was entitled to know the truth. “That's not true,” she whispered, “it's my daughter…”

“Your daughter,” echoed Mike, “but I didn't… I mean…”

“She's at home in Ireland, being brought up by my parents.”

“I see…”

“No, you don't,” said Charlie, “but it doesn't matter just now. The thing is my mother rang to say that Kirsty, my daughter, well they think she has meningitis, and she's only one, and they think…they think she might…” On the word die Charlie broke into sobs again. Instantly Mike was by her side on the sofa. He gathered her into his arms and held her against him. As he let her sob on his shoulder, he murmured to her soothingly, “Charlie, Charlie, sweetheart, don't cry, my darling, don't cry. We'll get you there, I promise, we'll get you there.” He stroked her fair, silky hair as he had longed to do for so many weeks now, and then he kissed the wet tear-stains on her cheek. As he did this, she raised her face to him in surprise, and he looked into her eyes, still welling with tears before he, very gently, kissed her on the mouth. For a moment her lips were closed and dry, and he lifted his head, but as he saw the tremulous smile break through her tears, Mike touched his mouth to hers again and this time felt her lips part beneath his as he kissed her deep and long. When they finally broke apart, they simply looked at each other in amazement, before Mike said, a little breathlessly, “Oh Charlie, if only you knew how long I've ached to do that.”

All she said was, “Mike,” but her voice was a sigh.