‘You’ve got so much to offer though. It makes for a lonely life keeping everyone at arm’s length. Don’t you want to settle down, to have children?’
‘The only saving grace of our relationship was that we never had kids, otherwise I’d never have been entirely rid of him. I’ve got a friend in a similar situation and she has a son. Every week she has to take him to a supervised visit to play happy families with the man who tried to choke the life out of her. At least I don’t have to do that.’
‘I’m sorry, Charlie. I had no idea.’
She shrugs. ‘Like I said, I don’t talk about it if I can help it. That’s the other thing, they make it feel like it’s all your fault. If only you were funnier, prettier, better in some way then this wouldn’t be happening. It took me years to come to terms with the fact that he was an out-and-out shit and there was nothing more complicated than that about it.’
‘So Nice Paul’s on a hiding to nothing? He’s not the same man, you know. Wouldn’t you even give him a chance?’
‘I can’t risk it again,’ she says, sadly. ‘Perhaps I’m just not over it yet. Maybe I never will be. It leaves scars, stuff like that. Some you can see, some you can’t. The false front teeth are a permanent reminder of the damage that rushing into a relationship can cause.’ She taps a finger to them. ‘Paul’s a great mate. I like him a lot, but …’
She doesn’t need to say any more. I won’t talk about it any longer or even tease her. If it’s not to be, that’s Charlie’s choice. I just want her to be happy and if even it means that she’s most contented by herself, then so be it. I’ll always be there for her, as she is for me. I put my hand on her arm. ‘Thanks for telling me.’
‘Thanks for being a mate,’ she says in return.
Then, before I can say anything else, Nice Paul comes back, still smiling affably, balancing three teas on a tray, and my heart goes out to him.
‘The queues!’ he exclaims as he sits down beside us and hands out the tea.
I don’t think Nice Paul has it in his heart to hurt anyone, but then what do I know about men? I currently have too many of them or none at all.
‘I have a gift for you both,’ I say and I delve in my bag to find the ‘Keep Calm and listen to Gary Barlow’ mugs I bought. ‘This has been a lovely day. Thanks for including me.’
I hand them over and they both go into throes of ecstasy.
‘This is so cool,’ Charlie says and kisses me. ‘You’re not to borrow it when you come to my house.’
‘Wouldn’t dream of it.
‘The perfect mantra to live your life by,’ Paul says with a grin as he admires his present.
They both kiss me again and I think it’s such a shame that they’ll never get together as they’re so well matched.
I think of Mason Soames and Joe Edwards. Both nice guys. Both with complications. I should be like Charlie and be content on my own. I don’t need a man. Of that, I’m sure. The tribute act starts up again and we kick back to enjoy the set. Gary Barlow’s going to be the only one for me too.
As Alan Banks from Barnsley croons ‘It Only Takes a Minute’ I think, sadly, that it’s going to take Charlie a hell of a lot longer than a minute to fall in love.
Chapter Forty-Two
Despite my affirmation that Gary Barlow is going to be the only man for me from now on, I still find myself rushing to my scuba-diving lesson, heart a-flutter, stomach in knots – something that last happened when I was about fifteen – only to be disappointed that I’ve got Bob again. Three weeks in a row. Joe, on the other hand, is nowhere to be seen.
To be honest with you, there’s nothing wrong with Bob. He’s a good, solid instructor with the patience of a saint. It’s fair to say that I am not one of scuba-diving’s naturals. I can’t remember what to do with what thing and I wonder if I’m ever going to be good enough to let loose in open water. Yet I’m probably learning more about scuba-diving with Bob than I would with Joe as I don’t have the unbridled urge to stare at him wistfully or long to see his naked bottom. I keep telling myself that I’m much better off with an instructor who has a pot-belly and a comb-over. I go to the pub with them all afterwards but, frankly, it’s just not the same.
I miss Joe. That’s the truth of the matter. I think about him a lot. When I’m in bed – even though cardboard cut-out Gary Barlow is available – when I’m in the bath, when I’m serving in the pub. Which means that a lot of diners are inadvertently getting someone else’s chips by mistake. My bad.
Before work, Charlie and I sit on what we lovingly call ‘our bench’ and discuss the situation. It’s pushing on towards summer with a vengeance and Jay has put out a load of new hanging baskets all round which look a bit pathetic now, but I’m sure will soon be heavy with the type of flowers you put in hanging baskets. Gardening isn’t among my skill set either, in case you were wondering. He bought one too many, so had a spare which he’s put round by the bins to cheer up our ‘office’, as he calls it.
‘You’re as miserable as sin,’ Charlie remarks as she vapes. ‘Look at you. Just because I’m sworn off men, it doesn’t mean that you still can’t dabble.’
‘I dabbled with Mason Soames and look where that got me.’
‘Ben behind the bar says he’s been doing the Grand Prix season. I don’t even know if that’s a thing. Apparently, he’s jetting off here, there and everywhere to watch the racing.’ She looks at me bewildered. ‘Why do that when you can watch it on telly?’
‘Atmosphere,’ I say knowingly when, in reality, I know nothing at all.
Charlie rolls her eyes.
‘Besides, it’s not Mason that I miss.’ Though I do wonder how Ben behind the bar knows his every move when I, who have recently shared his bed, don’t. ‘I like him and we have a great laugh together, but he’s not relationship material. Joe on the other hand …’ I take the opportunity to go all dreamy.
‘Is a family man with a whole heap of commitments,’ Charlie chips in.
Trust reality to intrude.
‘You’ve not met these mythical kids yet?’
‘We haven’t even really had a proper date. It’s far too soon to be thinking of all that.’
‘You might hate them. They could be little shits. The kind of kids who run around restaurants and cough with their mouths open.’
‘They’re teenagers. Wouldn’t they be past that?’
‘Teenagers?’ Charlie shudders as if I’ve said ‘axe murderers’. ‘They might have even worse habits.’
‘I like kids,’ I tell her, even though I’m not really sure that I do. ‘At my age, I’m not going to find that many men without them.’
‘Except the Shagger Soameses of the world.’
‘Indeed.’
‘So you like Joe. Make the first move. He might just need a little persuasion if he’s been out of the dating game since the time when the dinosaurs roamed the earth. It’s pants out there. If you wait for him to come to you, it might never happen.’