Strangers (40 page)

“Sit down.
Would you like a drink?
Tea?
Coffee?
Something stronger?”

“No, thanks,” Kate said and pulled Charlie down onto the red couch when he failed to sit.

Janet slumped into a chair opposite.
“Fucking hell,” she said again.
“You mean I gave birth to Charlie Storm?”

She lit a cigarette with shaking hands and then offered the packet to Charlie and Kate.
Charlie looked tempted, but shook his head.

“Charlie Storm,” Janet repeated as though it would help her understand what she was seeing.

Kate wondered if she ought to offer to make the woman a drink.
She looked as though she was in shock.

“Who are you?” she asked Kate, her eyes narrowed in suspicion.
“Press?”

“She’s my girlfriend.” Charlie managed to find his voice.

“What do you want to know?” Janet asked, blowing out a stream of smoke.
“Why I gave you up?”

Charlie nodded.

“I was sixteen when I got pregnant.
Seventeen when I had you.
I don’t know who your father was.
Sorry.” She shrugged.
“I slept around in those days and none of the guys wanted to know me once I was knocked up.
Neither did my mum and dad.
So I thought, fuck them, and managed on my own.”

The ash from her cigarette grew longer and Kate watched, waiting for it to fall on the carpet.

“I remember the day you were born, though.
No one with me except this snotty middle-aged midwife.
God, you were an ugly little sod, all squashed up.”

She winked at Kate and Kate’s eyes opened in horror.
She wanted her to stop, but Janet had found her flow.
The ash grew longer, precariously balanced.

“I was in labor for hours.
God, if I’d known, I’d have never…well.
Anyway, you came out eventually.
All babies do.
Everyone else had these pretty things with lovely hair and you were long and thin and bald and…well, fucking ugly.”

She laughed and then broke into a coughing fit and the ash fell on the carpet.
Janet rubbed it in with her heel.

Surely every baby who’d spent hours forcing its way down a narrow birth canal would come out looking squashed.
Kate squeezed Charlie’s hand.
He wasn’t ugly now.

“I named you Charlie,” she said and Kate heard the upbeat in her voice then.
“I left a piece of paper with your name on it.
I didn’t know if the people who adopted you would keep it.
Who’d have thought?” Janet stared at him.
“Maybe I do know who your dad might have been.
You remind me of him.
He had hair like yours, dark and straight and the same color eyes.” She stubbed out that cigarette and lit another.

“What’s his name?”

Kate heard the eagerness in Charlie’s voice.

“Keith.
I met him at a party.
He said he was in a band.
He’d gone the next morning.
I never saw him again.
He was good-looking, though.
I remember that.”

She smiled, her teeth small and crooked, stained from too many cigarettes.
But Kate saw a hint of Charlie in Janet’s eyes and in her smile.

“Did you ever think about me?
Wonder what I was doing?” he asked.

“Sometimes, but you weren’t mine, so what was the point?
It was easier to forget I’d had you.
No point beating myself up about what might have been.
I’ve got other kids now.
And a husband.
They don’t know about you.”

She got up and brought over a photograph.
It was of her at the seaside, standing next to a beefy-looking guy with tattoos on both arms and close-cropped hair.
Three young girls sat on a wall behind them.

“That’s my husband, Marvin.
The girls are Lizzie, she’s twelve, Sarah’s fifteen and Claire’s sixteen.
They’d love to meet you.
They’ve always wanted a brother.”

Janet clearly expected Charlie to say something, but he didn’t.
Three half sisters.
Kate knew what would happen when they found out about Charlie.

“Are your parents still alive?” Charlie asked.

“Dad died of lung cancer last year.
My mother lives in Luton.
I don’t know where and I don’t care.”

“Why did you give Charlie up?” Kate blurted.

Janet bristled.
Her eyes shot to Kate as though she resented her asking.

“I met a guy, not Marvin, and he didn’t want a kid.
I thought without a baby, we’d be able to make a go of it.
We did, but it only lasted a couple of years.”

“You loved him more than you loved me,” Charlie muttered.

Janet ground out her half-smoked cigarette.
“He had a good job,” she snapped.
“He took me places.
You were a whiney little thing, always crying for attention, always wanting something, but you wouldn’t have a dummy.
Kept spitting it out.
I loved you, course I did, but I wanted a life too.
I was a kid myself.”

“So you dumped me outside Woolworths?” Charlie’s voice was flat.

“Not dumped,” she said.
“I wrapped you up well.
I knew someone would find you.
They’d hear you bellowing for something to eat.
Right pair of lungs you had.” She gave a little smile.
“Still have.
Eventually I gave my details to the social services so if in the future, you’d wanted to contact me, you could.
I didn’t have to do that.
But…I’m glad I did.” She shot him a nervous glance.
“Anyway, you must have had a good life.
You’re doing all right now, aren’t you?
Rich and famous.
The people that adopted you must have brought you up properly.”

“Yes, they did.” Charlie got to his feet.
“Well, thanks for seeing me.”

Janet looked surprised.
“Is that it?
Is that all you want?”

Kate got up too.
She had no idea what Charlie was thinking but he couldn’t be happy.

“I suppose you’re disappointed,” Janet said.
“Not what you expected, am I?” She smoothed down her dress with fluttering hands.
“Not some rich, educated woman.”

“I didn’t expect anything,” Charlie said.

“You should be grateful I gave you up.
You wouldn’t have amounted to anything if I’d kept you.
But look at you now.
You’re so good-looking.” She took a step toward him.
“I wouldn’t mind if you wanted to give me a hug.”

Charlie tried to back off and Kate stood in his way, elbowed him forward.

Janet flung her arms around him.
Charlie hugged her, timidly at first but Kate watched the embrace grow into one of sadness for what had been missed by both of them.
He pulled away and Janet patted his arm.

“Well, look after yourself, son.
Be careful of people who just want to know you for your money.”

Kate bit her lip.

“Give me a ring.
Perhaps we could go for a meal.
All of us,” Janet said as Charlie backed away to the stairs.

“You’re welcome to come again.
Your sisters would love to meet you,” Janet called.

“I’ll ring you and arrange something.
I’d like to meet my…sisters.”

Janet looked as though she’d won the lottery.

He turned back at the first step.
“When’s my birthday?”

She looked flustered.
“December.
It was the fifth, I think.”

Charlie stood up straight, and smiled.
“Right.” He paused.
“When’s your birthday?”

“January the seventh.”

“I’ll make a note.
Um, please don’t talk to the papers about this.
Let’s have chance to get to know each other first.”

“All right.”

He turned to leave again and she called him back.
“Charlie?”

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry.
Sorry for not keeping you.”

Kate looked between the pair of them.
Charlie gave a little smile.
“It’s okay.
My adoptive parents did a good job.
It’s me that messed things up.
My dad would like to meet you, one day.”

Janet nodded.

Kate glanced back as they went down the stairs.
Janet stood watching them as though she still couldn’t quite believe what had just happened.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Charlie grabbed Kate’s hand and led her out of the apartment.
Her fingers curled loosely round the handrail to stop herself stumbling as he pulled her down the stairs at breakneck speed.
He didn’t say anything until they were sitting in the car.

“I wanted to know and now I do,” he said, his voice flat.

“It was a good thing you did, Charlie, telling her it was okay about giving you up.” Kate took hold of his hand and stroked his fingers.

He didn’t say anything.

“Well, it was a good thing to say it, even if you didn’t mean it.”

“You know, I researched this.
I read that most mothers never stop thinking about children they’ve given away.
They feel as if part of them is missing.
She hadn’t given me a second thought, only I think she will now.”

Kate saw the pain in his eyes.

“Christ, I didn’t want much.
She didn’t even remember what day she gave birth to me.
Guess she missed out on the mothering gene.
I thought my birthday was December the fourteenth.
I may as well stick to that.” He paused.
“When’s yours?”

“August.”

“It’s August now.
When?”

“I don’t celebrate birthdays, Charlie.”

“Why not?”

She picked at an imaginary spot on her skirt.
“I don’t like them.”

“Why?”

Kate sighed.
If she told him, maybe it would distract him from thinking about what just happened.
“We didn’t have proper parties in the children’s homes but we got a cake after dinner if it was someone’s birthday and they got to choose what they wanted on TV.
Everyone resented the fact that they were stuck in there and not with a family.
Not with
their
family.”

“Did you never have a party?”

“Not after my mum died and so I never got invited to any.
Little girls can be bloody cruel.
When I was twelve, I decided I’d organize my own so I’d be invited back.
We weren’t allowed to bring more than two friends to the house so I arranged it in the park.
I wrote when and where on balloons.
I saved up pocket money to buy party bags and filled them with sweets, pencils with animal tops and plastic yoyos.
I bought crisps, sausage rolls and bottles of Coke and lemonade.
I’d even managed music.
And a big chocolate cake.
I hijacked a supermarket cart to transport everything.”

She took a deep breath.
She could still see all the food laid out on the picnic tables.
It had looked great.

“No one came.
At first, I thought maybe I’d got the time wrong or the place and in a different part of the park everyone was standing holding presents and cards, waiting for me.”

She raised her eyes to Charlie’s.
His fingers rubbed hers.

“I had the party on my own.
Got told off for feeding crisps to the ducks and then into more trouble because not only did I miss evening curfew but I’d borrowed the music player without asking.
They’d eaten the cake they’d bought, but left a slice for me and I wasn’t allowed to go to bed until I’d eaten it.
Only I was so full, I threw up in the kitchen.
I never bothered with birthdays after that.”

“Is it too late to adopt you?” Charlie whispered, stroking her cheek with his fingers.

Kate grinned.
“But then the sex would have to stop.
You’d get arrested.”

“Oh yeah.” He laughed.

“Hey, I’m over it, Charlie.”

“So when’s your birthday?” His grip tightened.

“Forget it.
It’s gone.”

“When was it?” he repeated.
“Don’t make me resort to pain or tickling.”

“Yesterday.”

He closed his eyes and groaned.
“Shit.
Why didn’t you tell me?” His eyes opened.
“That was why your father wanted to see you.”

He put the car into gear and drove off.

“Where are we going?” Kate asked.

“Shopping.”

“What do you need?”

“Not for me.
For you.”

“I don’t need anything.”

“I want to buy you something.” Charlie glanced at her.
“You don’t have to
need
something to go shopping.”

Kate did.
She’d never had the money to buy things she didn’t need.

“I don’t want to go shopping,” she said.

“What would you like to do?”

“Go for a picnic.”

Kate hadn’t anticipated that she’d be the one walking round the supermarket buying the food, while Charlie skulked in the car, paranoid about being recognized.
When Kate got back, he was talking on his mobile.
He flicked the switch for the boot, not even emerging to help unload the cart.
By the time Kate sat beside him, he’d finished the call.

“What have you been up to?” she asked as she handed him his change.

With such a wide and innocent smile on his face, he was guilty of something.

“Nothing.”

“I’m very sad to have to tell you this, but I fear winning an Oscar is out of your reach.
You’re a hopeless actor, Charlie.
You wear your heart on your face.
Though it is a lovely face.” Kate kissed him.

“Not as lovely as yours,” he whispered.
“Happy Birthday for yesterday.”

The kiss grew deeper and more passionate by the second.
Charlie’s tongue teased her mouth, sending a frisson of pleasure pulsing through her whole body.

“We could have the picnic on your bed,” Kate gasped as she pulled away.

“No.
I’m driving us to Richmond Park.”

“Great,” Kate said.
“I haven’t been there in ages.”

They’d eaten, and were lying on their backs in the sun before Kate spoke to Charlie about what happened that afternoon.
She knew he didn’t want to talk about it, but she also knew he had to deal with it.

“Was she so much worse than you expected?” Kate asked.

For a moment he didn’t answer.
“I didn’t know what to expect.
I didn’t think I’d care whether she was pretty or bright.
And I don’t.
I wanted her to have missed me, thought about me over the years and I don’t think she did.”

“Do you like to think about your mistakes?”

“I’m a mistake?”

“She had you, Charlie.
She didn’t abort you.
She was a kid.”

He rolled onto his side.

“Her eyes are a bit like yours.
You have her smile,” Kate said.

Charlie looked across at her.
“Do I?”

Kate nodded.
“But not her teeth.”

He laughed.

“You run your fingers through your hair like your dad,” she added.