A Proper Charlie (16 page)

Ben made a very quick exit with J.J’s number burning a hole in his pocket and with an outraged man, the size of house, chasing him to his car.

NINETEEN

L
ooking up from sneakily turning off her tape recorder, Charlie glanced upon the red car. It was parked up a side street, facing her. It was too dark to see inside. Charlie frowned, was it the same car she had seen it from the café window Sunday? And yesterday, too, come to think of it. In her panic running from pimpman, she’d remembered, she had run out in front of it and had almost become a skidmark on the road.

Charlie, turning her back on the other prostitutes, tried to look through her notebook for the car’s registration while it was still inside her bag, but it was too dim to read anything. Glancing covertly at the other women, she pulled it out but at that time the red car moved off and crossed towards her. Panicking slightly, Charlie dropped the notebook back into her bag and realising there was safety in numbers rejoined the group of women.

Jan and Max were talking about
EastEnders
. They all seemed so ordinary within their unordinary lives.

The car swept by and rounded a corner. Charlie hadn’t been able to catch the registration or tell if the car had been an Audi. She cursed her own panic, but as the three women walked they followed the car around the corner. Charlie saw that the car had pulled up alongside Sally Readman. Her too thin body was easily recognisable, as was the tip of her glowing cigarette.

Charlie could see the hand of the driver through the opened window as he spoke to the woman. On nearing, she realised that Sally looked brighter too, almost radiant, so it was obvious to Charlie she’d managed to get herself a fix. Helpless, Charlie could only watch as Sally, tossing her cigarette into the gutter, climbed into the car.

The car drove off as Charlie and the others drew up alongside it, and Charlie had time to glimpse the top of the driver’s dark woolly hat just before his window rolled up completely.

‘
Lucky bitch,’ Jan said.

‘
Would you say that car was an Audi?’ asked Charlie.

‘
It looked new to me,’ said Jan.

‘
She said an Audi, not “oldie”, you muppet,’ said Max laughing.

Charlie couldn’t laugh back. She was disturbed and was relieved when they parted company and she was able to go home.

She kicked off her shoes as soon as she was inside her flat. The little room was stuffy, and she moved forwards to slide open the window. She leaned across the sill to look over the car park below. She breathed in the night air, which was full of the smells from takeaway restaurants and car fumes. She looked upwards and was pleased to see the night held a few stars; she missed Northampton at moments like this when she felt compelled to stare up at the heavens. The stars were often lost in London’s night sky.

She closed her eyes, and murmured a little prayer for the lost Sally Readman.

TWENTY

B
en felt smug. There was no other word for it. Over an Eggs Benedict breakfast with his father, Ben was even considering challenging him to a round of golf later. Donald had tried to engage him in the sport in the past, but he was such an aggressive player and always impatient, so Ben had always done his utmost to wriggle out of it.

‘
Found Camilla?’

Ben was surprised. It was the first time Donald had spoken her name since the funeral.

‘
No,’ he said. ‘But I’ve hired a private investigator.’

‘
Who?’ Donald barked. He never spoke, when he could bark.

‘
Kevin Locke.’

‘
Fire him and get someone else.’

‘
He’s doing OK,’ Ben protested. He thought he was doing great so far; he’d led him to Sally Readman, anyway.

‘
Does he have any leads?’

Ben nodded smugly. ‘Actually,’ he cleared his throat dramatically, ‘it was me who found a rather important lead, even if I say so myself.’

‘
Well, don’t ponce about, boy, tell me.’

But Ben had been waiting for his moment of recognition for a long time, and wasn’t prepared simply to tell his father. He stood up. ‘I’ve something to show you. Wait just one moment while I fetch it.’

Donald pushed his plate away, and patted his stomach in satisfaction. ‘Well, if you insist on making a song and dance about it,’ he said. He reached for
The Globe
newspaper in the centre of the table.

Ben tossed him the
London Core
. ‘Why not try that? It’s changed already since we took over.’

‘
Don’t read comics,’ Donald grunted and buried his face in
The Globe
.

Ben headed towards the stairs.

He stared around his room. His bed had been stripped and his clothes, which he had taken off and placed tidily on a chair, were gone. He dived for the wardrobe and rummaged through his neatly hung clothes but the trousers he wore last night, and more importantly, the old receipt where he had scribbled down J.J’s number, was missing.

Ben raced downstairs and towards the kitchen. ‘Where’s Iris?’ he asked his father, who looked up in surprise.

‘
Gone to get her hair done.’ Donald went back to his paper. ‘You got me that lead yet?’

Ben felt sick. ‘I, er, I seem to have lost it.’

Donald didn’t even look up from behind the paper. ‘Sums you up, doesn’t it?’ he grunted.

TWENTY ONE

C
harlie turned a page in the folder on her desk, and then clicked the onscreen file she was reading. She was working through paper and computer documents, trying to cross-reference both at once. She was determined to finish her work early, so she could use the time to type up some of her notes from last night. She felt she had an outline to a really good fiction story. Her characters were all in place and the plot was growing and taking shape.

She was tired. Knackered, in fact. She had been so afraid of coming into work late that she’d made extra effort to come in early just to create the correct impression except no-one seemed to notice. Why
was
that? Come late and it would be a certainty that people noticed, yet
early
? Her eyes drifted across to Juliet’s desk, and fell on a plaque displaying the slogan:
Working here is like wetting your pants in a dark suit – it gives you a warm feeling but nobody notices.

She eyed Melvin’s empty chair in front of her. His desk was immaculate; not a thing out of place. Hers resembled a rundown Peckham front garden. She chewed on her lip. She wanted to confide – she
needed
to confide. Had she seen the Gentleman Abductor at work for the second time last night?

Thinking about him made her angry. He was seeking to destroy the vulnerable.

That had been the main reason she was early for work: early because she hadn’t been to bed. Well, she’d tried, but the red Audi just kept cruising into her mind making her toss this way and that. In the end she’d got up and watched some awful American sitcom.

She sighed. If she confided in Melvin, what would happen? The police would be called, the driver-cum-abductor found, Charlie rewarded and looked at in awe by all and the cleaning lady and then promoted within
Core
. Or, she drummed her fingernails on her desk, Melvin would have a fit; Faye a field-day. The driver would turn out to be an innocent man and sue her, and Fanny would sack her for being such a twat.

Charlie turned back to her computer. Hopefully, the red car last night was just a coincidence. Caffeine. She pushed back her chair and stood up. She needed caffeine.

Sarah was chatting with Juliet at the coffee machine as Charlie made her way over. Sarah was moaning about Faye: ‘She’s so spiteful.’

They moved aside for her to press the buttons for her drink. The vending machine was set for drinks to be dispensed free, but occasionally it refused to work at all. This time Charlie was in luck, and her cup was filled with hot coffee. She drank it gratefully.

‘
I give as good as I get,’ said Sarah. ‘But she always has a retort. And sometimes they are bloody offensive.’

‘
She’s all right with me,’ said Juliet. She stood with her hand on a narrow hip. Her short cropped, dark hair looked more like a man’s than a woman’s. Her many bracelets jangled about her wrists, hiding a previous life where she self-harmed. She had every finger covered with a ring, plus several in her eyebrows, one in her nose and another in her bottom lip. She was also careful how she sat, so God knows where else she had one.

Charlie didn’t dare comment. Instead she said to Sarah, ‘To be honest, I think she enjoys a good old slanging match. I don’t feel offended by her insults. In fact, they amuse me.’

‘
Everything amuses you, Charlie,’ said Sarah, grumpily.

‘
Not entirely,’ she said biting her tongue against Sarah’s tart remark.

‘
I’ve been here a year and you’d have thought I would be used to her by now.’ Sarah seemed close to tears. Charlie looked at Juliet to see if she noticed.

‘
I’m going out for a fag.’ She hadn’t.

‘
You give as much as she does, Sarah,’ Charlie reminded her gently as Juliet left clutching some Old Holborn and Rizlas. ‘Do you want me to have a word with her for you?’

Sarah looked horrified. ‘Shit, no! She’d love that, the two-faced bitch. If I were to slap her, her other face would still be flinging retorts at me.’

A loud bang and voices behind made Charlie spin around, slopping coffee onto her wrist. Cursing, she watched as two men, dressed in blue overalls came in, talking loudly and pushing a removal trolley.

‘
S’cuse me, love,’ the larger of the two men said.

‘
What’s going on?’ asked Charlie, stepping aside.

One began to unplug the coffee machine, while the other lowered the bottom of the trolley so it could slide beneath the machine.

‘
What’s going on?’ asked Melvin, arriving for the morning. The coffee machine was his lifeline.

‘
Boss’s orders, ‘fraid,’ one of the men said.

‘
What’s going on?’ someone else said, joining Melvin, Charlie and Sarah.

As if fearing there might be a mutiny, one of the workmen held up his hands in surrender. ‘We’re taking it away. If you don’t like it take it up with your boss not us.’

‘
Damn Middleton,’ Sarah muttered, scowling. ‘I knew he’d make changes without discussing it with us.’

‘
It’s only a frigging coffee machine!’ called Faye from her desk.

‘
But it’s
our
coffee machine,’ said Charlie.

‘
Somebody should say something,’ said Sarah. ‘It isn’t fair that we weren’t consulted. We need this coffee machine.’

The workmen shrugged at one another, and began to load the machine onto the trolley.

‘
I agree with Sarah,’ said Charlie. ‘Someone should go and say something to Mr M.’

‘
Good idea,’ said Sarah. ‘Off you go then.’

The others looked at her expectantly and Charlie flushed. She was fired up from last nights’ activities. She slammed down her empty paper cup, the effect ruined because the cup failed to make any noise, and it crunched beneath her hand spilling the last dregs. ‘OK, I will!’

The others clapped. ‘Way to go, Charlie!’

Urged into action, Charlie began to stride across the office. ‘First he kicks poor Fanny out of his office and now he’s removing our coffee machine. I’m going to have words. Maybe two syllable ones!’

‘
Since when did you care about Fanny?’ Melvin called after her. They were laughing.

Charlie marched on undaunted. She reached the office door, and rapped three times, but no one answered.

‘
Charlie!’ called Faye, still laughing. ‘Charlie, Middleton’s not –’

But Charlie opened the door and stepped inside, ready to demand answers. But the room was empty. Hands akimbo, she glared around the room as if Mr Middleton might be hiding somewhere.

‘
Damn the man!’ Charlie cussed, and spun round to stalk out of Mr Fanton’s office, but instead came face to face with Middleton himself. ‘Oh,’ she said. Surprise opened a door to her anger, and it began to flee her body.

‘
Is there something I can help you with?’ he asked pleasantly, but it was clear he had heard her words, and displeasure forced the corners of his mouth down. He stepped inside, and Charlie saw the look of worry on Melvin’s face before the door closed.

‘
Actually there is.’ She raised her chin, trying to hold on to her anger. ‘Why have you removed the coffee machine?’

‘
Because it’s faulty –’

‘
Caffeine helps concentration and aids productivity,’ she waded in hotly, without even stopping to listen. ‘You’ll find most people nipping off to the canteen for a coffee now; actually the canteen will become the office just so we can be near a coffee machine. Don’t you realise how addicted we are to caffeine?’ With one hand on her hip, the other was waving a finger beneath his nose. ‘Without coffee, or tea – some people prefer tea, which is perfectly OK, personally I’m a coffee person, although I do like tea, but would never say no to a hot chocolate, especially if it’s offered with cream and marshmallow.’