Prologue
The little 6-year old girl’s eyes can just about see what her father is doing. Her daddy is making breakfast for her mommy. The girl tries jumping up and down for a better look, her brown curls bouncing on her small shoulders. Her daddy takes notice of his little girl’s curiosity and picks her up to put her on the kitchen unit. Her daddy tells her to pour some tap water in a vase for the single red rose. The girl nods, takes the vase and runs the tap. It’s quite heavy for this little girl and the vase slips out of her hands. The glass vase breaks into a thousand pieces and the water splashes against her daddy’s shoes and ankles. The girl’s lower lip begins to tremble, a tear escapes from her glistering brown eyes. Her daddy looks up from the toast, turns around to see what damage has been done, then turns to his little girl. He smiles, the smile her mommy fell for. He tucks a curl behind her ear and removes the tear from her cheek onto his big thumb.
“We’ll clean that later, okay?” The little girl nods, sniffs a last time, and eventually smiles back at her daddy.
“Where do people go when they die, daddy?” The little girl asks innocently. Daddy thinks for a minute, then comes up with an answer. “They go to heaven, darling.”
He lets the 6-year old climb onto his back, so he can carry the trade with breakfast for mommy. The girl plays with her daddy’s long brown hair when they go up the stairs to wake mommy.
Daddy slowly opens the bedroom door, to find mommy still asleep. The little girl runs to the bed and gives her mommy a kiss on the cheek, on which she awakens. She smiles and sits up straight. Her eyes scan the room and rest on daddy. Her hands disappear under the pillow.
“I’m sorry, Max.” Mommy whispers. “I can’t take it anymore.” Mommy aims and pulls the trigger twice. Then mommy aims on her own head and shoots one last time.
The little girl is sitting in the corner of the room, her hands cover her ears. Soft sobbing sounds can be heard, a tear falls down onto the floor. Mommy and daddy have gone to heaven now.
Chapter one
“Charlotte, today’s the day you can go home. Isn’t that exciting?”
It’s twelve years later, the 6-year old girl who saw her parents die, is now eighteen and about to get released from the mental institution. Charlotte hasn’t said a thing in those twelve years, not even her uncle, her dad’s brother, could get a word out of her. Her uncle, unfortunately, died barely a year later after her parents died.
Charlotte’s being wheeled away from her room, where she has spent the last twelve years of her life, looking out of the window, hoping that her dad would come and pick her up. She never really thought about her mother anymore; she was the person that killed her dad. Ever since she was born, she never had a close relationship with her mother. Her mother was really distant towards her and her father. She never really understood what the reason of that was. She never got the chance to find out either. But now, now she was as free as a bird, she would find out. Find out why her mother was so distant, why she was sorry, and what she couldn’t take anymore of her dad, why she killed him.
Charlotte has been taken to her own little apartment. She’s still under supervision, and if that goes okay, she will have to do things on her own. For the first time in her life. A satisfied smile appears on Charlotte’s face; her life, a life.
Her eyes scan the room she’s in; it looks nice and cosy. The lounge is small, but big enough for her alone. A large sofa stands across the room, taking most of the space. Opposite of that, is a TV, with a stereo installation next to it. In a small room on the left, is her bedroom. The door next to the bedroom, leads to the bathroom. An open door shows the kitchen; small, white and clean. The woman who’d come with her, puts Charlotte’s bags on the floor, smiles and leaves her alone for the night.
Charlotte flops onto the sofa, it’s really soft and she could definitely fall asleep on this thing if it was up to her. Charlotte’s eyelids are getting heavy, her eyes are tired and there is this soft banging feeling right behind her eye sockets. Her mind drifts away from her new home, her new life.
With sweat on her back, Charlotte wakes up in the middle of the night. She’s having dreams again. Those nasty dreams about her daddy making breakfast for mommy, then mommy shooting her daddy and at the moment when mommy’s about to pull the trigger to shoot Charlotte, she wakes up. Tears flood down her cheeks; she’s been having these nightmares for about twelve years now, and she’s sick of it. She’s determined to know why on earth her mother did this.
With heavy legs, Charlotte drags herself to the bedroom. Tomorrow she’s going to start her investigation. Why her mother… Charlotte’s mind drifts away again, to fall into a deep, deep sleep.
Chapter two
Charlotte woke up bright and early that morning, she took her time to take a long, warm shower and went grocery shopping.
When she arrives back at her own little place, there is a man shifting around the place, checking her stuff out, occasionally a faint smile on his face. This man turns as he hears the door being opened by Charlotte. She drops her bangs and is about to scream when the man opens his mouth to speak.
“Hi, you must be Charlotte. I’m Matt, your supervisor.” Charlotte observes the ‘burglar’; dark, short hair, baggy stone-washed jeans and a t-shirt. The deep brown pools look at her in the same way. His face looks young; he must be around her age, and he’s her supervisor? He could’ve been her!
Charlotte frowns her forehead, then pulls up an eyebrow. Matt holds up a key, which he puts on the table.
“Sorry for just walking in, but you didn’t open the door and I’m supposed to look after you for a little while, so I invited myself in. Do you mind?” Charlotte doesn’t even take notice of his apology and takes her groceries into the kitchen.
She reaches out for the top cupboard, a hand slips over hers and she quickly pulls back.
“Here, let me do that for you.” Matt smiles sweetly at her and puts away the cereal. Charlotte stands there with her hands on her hips, looking as if she could’ve done that herself. Matt notices this look.
“Sorry, I was only trying to help you.” Charlotte sighs and turns her back on him. “You could’ve told me that you rather wanted to do it yourself.” Charlotte turns around and gives him an evil eye. “Oh, yeah. I forgot, you don’t speak. How stupid of me.” He sarcastically adds and hits his forehead with his hand. “You know, Charlotte? It would really, really help if you talked to me. It’s not like I mind that you’re not talking, but it’s a bit rude and selfish, don’t you think?” Something inside Charlotte snaps, and her hand lands on Matt’s cheek with a smack.
“Bastard!” She screams. “You don’t even know me.” Matt just looks at her gob smacked. He knew she hasn’t been talking for twelve years and the first word that she brings out is ‘bastard’ towards him. He feels his cheek with his right hand; it feels a bit warm, it’s probably red too. He lowers his hand and shrugs.
“At least I got you talking.” He concludes and continues helping putting away the groceries.
He is about to put away the sugar when he stops in his tracks and looks up at Charlotte, who in the mean while had done nothing else than looking at him.
“I’m surprised you can still talk after twelve years. Have you been practicing?” Charlotte folds her arms in front of her chest.
“I’m surprised that the only words that you can bring out are insulting.” She snaps back.
“Yeah, and the first word you said in twelve years, was ‘bastard’. And that isn’t insulting, is it?” Charlotte sighs and comes to the conclusion that if she wants him to shut up, she needs to explain things. He’s stupid, that’s what he is. Stupid, with a capital S.
“I have been talking for your information, just not in public.” Matt looks at her with his a head a little to the side. His lips form a simple ‘o’ and he puts away the sugar.
“When are you going to leave?” Charlotte sighs when they sit on the sofa next to each other. Matt slumps a bit more onto the sofa.
“At five, but if you want me to stay longer so I can keep you company, then that’s no problem.”
“I’d be happy to see you walk out that door for the last time.”
“Well, that’s not very nice of you, Charlotte.” With that, their conversation ends.
“It’s five o’clock. Let me get me your jacket.” Charlotte says, and stands up to get Matt’s jacket. “You really don’t like me, do you?” Charlotte shakes her head. “No, I don’t. At what time are you going to be here tomorrow?” Matt shrugs. “Probably around ten, unless you want to sleep longer.” At her turn, Charlotte shrugs. “Fine by me, ten it is then.” A smile appears on Matt’s face and his eyes start to sparkle. “Good, I’ve arranged some stuff for tomorrow.”
Chapter three
Another morning in her own little house. Charlotte has been dreaming weird that night; Matt was involved which made it a little freaky too. Ever since that stupid arsehole walked through the door, she hadn’t been thinking about her parents. There was something about that boy that made her mind go all weird. And she was going to find out what it was today.
At precisely ten o’clock, Matt was stood at the door. He greeted her with a smile and let himself in.
“Morning to you too.” Charlotte says, and rubs her eyes. She had been up for two hours already, but she was still tired.
“Had a good night sleep, Charl?” Matt asks, without the smile ever leaving his face. “I can call you Charl, right?” Charlotte shrugs. “Call me whatever you want, I don’t care. What are we going to do today, because you said you had arranged some things the other night?” She brushes the hair out of her face and sits on the sofa, taking a sip from her coffee.
“Yeah, I was planning on taking you out for the day, do some fun stuff and get to know each other. You’re gonna be stuck up with me for another three months, so that might be a good idea.” Charlotte nods. “True.”
At around 12.30, Matt and Charlotte take place in a little café and order something to drink. For a while, they both keep quiet and don't say a word. Only occasional looks at each other. Charlotte's mind wanders off as she takes another sip from her hot coffee.
"Have you ever asked yourself why your mum did that?" Out of nothing Matt asks her something. He isn't even looking at her. It's as if he is talking to someone outside the café.
"Yes," Charlotte answers. Matt's gaze goes from a 'fit bird' walking down the street to meet Charlotte's eyes, where they rest. "I've wondered for ages and ages, actually. And I was determined to find out until you came around." Matt’s head goes a little to the side as he looks at her.
“How do you mean, until I came round? Am I interrupting your little investigation?” Charlotte sighs and puts her coffee down. “Yes.” She simply answers. It’s the truth. She would’ve been investigating if it wasn’t for the arsehole. She couldn’t stand him around, but at night, when he wasn’t, she felt alone. For some reason she wanted him to be with her 24/7. Matt’s gaze goes from Charlotte to someone outside on the street.
“Well, if you’d like me to help you, just say so.” A smile appears on Charlotte’s face. But when Matt turns to look at her again, she quickly pulls the annoyed look again.
“Were you actually smiling? Charlotte, the cranky loner, was smiling? Were my eyes not fooling me?” A corner of her mouth turns up into half a smile. “Come on,” Matt continues. “Let me bring you home. I don’t have the energy to walk down the crowded streets anymore.” He pays for the drinks, takes Charlotte’s hand and they walk out of the small café.
As they walk to the bus-stop, he drapes his arm over Charlotte’s shoulder.
“You know, Charl? We might end up as friends.” Matt states as he takes a quick look at Charlotte. “We might, we might not. Not yet anyway.” She wipes him off of her shoulder and steps into the bus.
“Here we go,” Matt says as he opens the door to the little apartment. He’s ready to turn around and go home when Charlotte stops him.
“You want something to drink?” He looks at her for a second. “Yes, I’d love to.” He finally answers. Charlotte leaves him in the lounge as she goes to the kitchen to get something to drink.
“Hey, what do you want to drink? I’ve got practically everything.” Matt slips out of his jacket, which he puts on the armrest of the sofa. He walks over to her.
“Coke is fine.” Charlotte opens the fridge to take out the bottle of coke and looks around for a minute.
“Now, where the hell have I put the glasses?” Matt bends towards a cupboard. “They’re right here.” And takes a large glass out of it. Charlotte gives a faint smile as she fills the glass.
“Thank you,” He says as he takes the glass and walks back to the sofa.
“You’re feeling quite at home here, don’t you?” Charlotte asks from out of the kitchen. Matt gazes into his glass of coke and watches the bubbles come up. “No,” He begins. “Not really.” He takes a sip from the coke. “I just feel comfortable around you, that’s all. Unlike you with me.”
Charlotte moves from the kitchen onto the sofa, right next to Matt. She puts her drink onto the coffee table and draws an imaginary star on her leg with her finger.
“Who says that I’m not feeling comfortable around you?” She looks up. Matt pulls up an eyebrow.
“Well, it’s quite obvious you don’t like me in any way. You never seem to smile when I’m around. You hardly talk. Need I go on?” A small laughter escapes from Charlotte’s mouth. She’s being nervous. Nervous of what?
“Well-”
“Well, where do you want to start?” Matt interrupts her. “I mean, you wanted to find out why your mother killed your father, didn’t you?” Charlotte nods. “Yes, and I still do.” Her cheeks flush into a red colour. Her brain is on full speed for some reason. “It’s hot in here, don’t you think?” She waves cool air into her face with her hand. Matt’s forehead wrinkles and his face has a blanc expression.
“No, it’s cold more likely. Charlotte, are you feeling okay?” He comes closer and feels her forehead and cheeks. Charlotte quickly stands up and wanders about.
“Yes, yes. I’m perfectly fine.”
“Are you absolutely sure? You don’t look okay.” He follows her into the kitchen where he stops her in her tracks by putting his hands on her waist. Their gaze meet. Charlotte leans in and kisses Matt full on. In her head, fireworks blasts. In her tummy, butterflies flutter around. Matt pulls away first.
“I think I should better go now.” He turns his back on her and fetches his jacket.
“No, wait. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t-”
“You’re one weird gal, did you know that?” He walks towards the door and opens it. Ready to walk away.
“No, wait Matt, please.” He turns around. “Can’t you stay tonight? I don’t want to be alone for another night.”
“No, I can’t.” He swings his jacket over his shoulder. “I’m not allowed to get into any sort of relationship with patients.”
Chapter four
Charlotte can’t sleep that night. She can’t get her mind off Matt. She had kissed him and it had felt good. Really good. She thought he had wanted the same, but he didn’t. Couldn’t she get another supervisor?
“Charl, are you decent?” She hears Matt yell from behind the door. She isn’t decent, but she doesn’t care. “Yeah, come in.”
“Thank y… Whoa! I thought you said you were decent!” Matt quickly looks away from her as soon as he sees her wearing a short t-shirt. He stands with his back towards her, playing with his fingers awkwardly as he waits for her to at least put something on.
“You can take your jacket off, if you want.” She whispers in his ear. He jumps up an inch. He hadn’t hear her coming. Her hands wander over his chest.
“Charl, don’t. I can’t-”
“Shh, it’s okay.” She turns him round and kisses him lightly on his soft lips. Her hands move towards the jacket that she takes off of him. Carefully, he kisses her in the base of her neck, leaving little telltale signs of love bites as he does so. His hands wander off to her bum, where they find their way up under her shirt. Charlotte breathes heavily into his ear.
Suddenly, Matt pulls back and puts his jacket back on.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have come in the first place.” But Charlotte was thinking something else and she pulls him towards her. She takes him by the collar of the jacket and pulls him towards the bedroom.
“Charlotte, no. This is practically rape, you know that.” Charlotte looks at him wildly and rips his shirt off. “Shut the fuck up, Matt. I know you want the same.” She pushes him on the bed, and jumps on him. Matt’s hands do something else than his mind actually wants. He plants them on her waist. Charlotte bends in and kisses him once again. He takes her t-shirt off and explores her body. He gently pushes her off of him and he takes his place on her. His hands are everywhere.
“Charlotte, I can’t do this. I’m not allowed to. I’ve…” He unzips his trousers and kicks them to the other side of the room. “I’ve got something to tell you.” He confesses as he thrusts himself into her. “That can wait.” Charlotte sighs.
“Charl?” Matt calls. He hears Charlotte moving about next to him in the bed and feels her getting her grip on him. “Hmm?” He plays with her long, brown hair as he looks up to the ceiling. It had been so perfect, she’s so beautiful. What he’s going to say will probably ruin everything they are about to have, but it won’t be fair otherwise.
“Can I tell you something now?” Again Charlotte makes a humming sound. “I haven’t been completely honest with you.” He feels Charlotte’s gaze on him. He strokes her back. “I… I don’t know how to say it, but it comes down to that I’m not exactly your supervisor.” He sighs out.
“What? How do you mean?” Charlotte brings out under her breath.
“They’ve put you and me together, so that I could get you talking and build up a normal life. And you were there so I could get rid of my own little problem. Said that, I’ve failed miserably.” Charlotte sits up straight and looks at him. “What’s your little problem?” He strokes her cheek and pulls her in for a hug.
“I’ve… I have this problem.”
“Yes, you said that.”
“I can’t- I have this problem with women.”
“You do?”
“Yes. To say it bluntly, I fuck everything that has an arse and tits.”
“Oh,” Charlotte brings out in a weird tone.
“But you’re different. I don’t know what it is, but I feel amazingly attracted to you.” He finally looks at her. Charlotte breaks loose from his hug.
“I bet you say that to every girl you meet.” She fishes her shirt from off the floor and puts it on. “Would you mind leaving like, NOW?” She gets out of the bed and walks out of the bedroom, leaving the door open for him to just go away.
“I knew you’d react that way.” He slowly and softly says as he puts his clothes back on.
“Excuse me?” Charlotte almost yells and sees Matt walk out of the bedroom. He strokes her cheek and gives a light kiss on her nose. Charlotte’s eyes are watery. She can’t and will not believe what he had just told her. It can’t be. He would never-
“I’m sorry. It could’ve been so perfect.” Charlotte changes her mind instantly.
“Does this mean that you’re gonna walk out of my life? Just like everyone else?” Matt nods sadly. “I guess so.”
“But we can still make it perfect. We can work this out. I’m willing to do anyything to keep you here with me. Please Matt, don’t walk away.” A lonely tear leaves her eye.
“I’ll make you a deal. I have to think this through well, and if you don’t hear anything from me by next week, consider me as out of your life.”
Chapter five
The following week, Charlotte has the time to do some stuff. No one’s around, no supervisor breathing in her neck.
She takes the bus to South-London where she visits her grandmother, her father’s mother. She hasn’t seen her in well, twelve years. Ever since she got into the mental institution, really. Her grandmother was old and couldn’t walk properly anymore, so that was probably the reason why she had never visited her granddaughter.
When her grandmother opens the door, holding on to her cane for dear life, she first squeezes her eyes to little slits, then a twinkle in her eyes. A smile appears on her face, she can remember who it is that’s standing in front of her. Charlotte’s grandmother is at least a head shorter than herself, so she bends towards her, and gives her a loving hug. The hug she’d been waiting ages for. A tear escapes from her eye, which she quickly wipes away with her free hand.
“Oh deary me, I haven’t seen you in quite a long time. You’ve grown so much, child.” Charlotte’s grandmother brings out in a crackly voice. “Well, granny, that’s because you haven’t seen me in twelve years.” Her grandmother takes Charlotte’s hand and leads her to the small room where a few seats are stood.
“Ah, is that long ago?” Grandmother thinks for a moment, her forehead wrinkles as she does so. “Oh yes, ever since Max and his wife died…” Her voice trails off, and she looks out of the window, watching cars pass by. Charlotte’s grandmother never called her mother by her name, always ‘his wife’, or ‘your mother’. Actually, the only person who called her mother by her name, was her father. The two say nothing for a short while, then Charlotte’s grandmother straightens her back and a painful look appears on her face. Charlotte is about to stand up and help her, but she waves her away.
“Now that you’re here, I need to tell you something, dear.” Grandmother shuffles about in her old, green with flowers covered, chair and coughs. “Ah, the lungs, child, the lungs. Not as good as they have been.” She coughs once more, and clears her throat. “A very, very long time ago, about 20 years, your father met this wonderful and pretty girl, named Charlotte.” Charlotte moves in her chair awkwardly. “They never married, however. They had been together for quite a while though. I think it was two years. Charlotte got pregnant, then something unfortunate happened. Charlotte got an awful cancer. Breast cancer, to be precise. They found out only a few months before she died. There was nothing they could do about it. Charlotte carried the baby in her tummy for eight months, then it was born. Premature, though. That next month, Charlotte died. She knew she was going to die, that was what made it so hard for Max. The only thing he had left of Charlotte, was you. The dark brown hair, the sparkling blue eyes…” Her voice trails off again and she coughs.
“When you were about two years old, your father met a woman. I always refused to speak out her name, because she was nothing to me. The only thing that made us related to each other, was a piece of paper and the ring she wore.” There’s an angry expression on her face that gives Charlotte a shiver down her spine. “She never liked me, that Maria, or whatever she was called. I once overheard a conversation between the two, your father and that… that… woman, and she had told Max to never visit me again. Ever. She hated me with a passion, child.” She coughs again and she takes her handkerchief to wipe her mouth. “And then there was you. I think she hated you ever more than she hated me. You were in the way of a huge career in whatever she wanted to do. She loved your father, though. With all her heart. But I think she only married Max for his money.” Grandmother sighs, her eyes are watery. “I can recall a time when I visited you. Your so called mother was giving you a bath. I think you were about three years old. Max was off to work. I was going to put you in bed after your mother was done. I was getting suspicious when it took over fifteen minutes for her to bathe you. When I had climbed up the stairs, I saw that witch you pushing under water with all her strength. I screamed at her and took you out of the bath. You were crying so loudly, I couldn’t stop you. You had all those weird red spots all over your little body. Probably because she had used too much hot water. When I had you in your little bed, and you were finally quiet, I tried to talk to her, but she wouldn’t listen. She banned me out of the house.” Tears were flooding down her cheeks. “I never understood what Max saw in her. She was obviously not taking care of you. But he didn’t see it, I think he was love blind.” A young woman steps in the room and tells Charlotte to basically bugger off, because she’s upsetting ma’am. Charlotte gives a final kiss on her grandmother’s cheek, thanks her and leaves the room, to break out in tears when she closes the door.
Chapter six
Charlotte spends the following day in her apartment, letting things sink in. The woman she’d always called ‘mommy’, was not her mother. She had been too little to know.
Still, it didn’t make sense why on earth Maria had killed her father. Just because Charlotte had been in the way of a successful career in whatever, she wouldn’t have killed the man she loved. Then she would’ve killed her, not her father. Also, it didn’t make sense why she had killed herself. If she had married her father because of his money, then why kill herself? If she had only killed her dad, she might’ve gotten the money. Might have. Thinking about the money, if her dad had been so wealthy, why had Charlotte never seen one penny of it?
She decides to look for an advocate, that might help. She’d let him find out what had been in her father’s will, if he had one. She has the right to know.
Charlotte had made an appointment at ‘Simpsons & Bourne’s’, a well-known advocate-duo in the main of London. She had put up her hair in a long brown ponytail, and dressed smartly.
“Miss Coughtrie?” The secretary with small, black glasses and a pointy noise, asks. Charlotte nods. “You can go through that door now. Mister Bourne is waiting for you there.” She points towards a dark, heavy-looking door, which Charlotte goes through.
A man, not looking very old, maybe a few years older than herself, is sitting behind a huge, wooden desk. He takes his glasses off of his squishy nose and looks at her with blue eyes. He straightens his black tie, that suits his dark brown suit and the white shirt. He smiles, pearly white teeth glister in the fluorescent light. He pulls his hand through his blonde, shortish hair and points at the seat at the other side of the desk. Charlotte shakes the man’s hand before she sits down in the brown, leather chair.
“Well…” Mr. Bourne begins as he looks through some papers lying around on his desk. “Miss Coughtrie it was, right?” Charlotte nods in confirmation. “Hmm…” He continues and thinks for a moment. “Coughtrie, Coughtrie. Sounds so familiar.” He looks at Charlotte with some interest. “I have seen those eyes before.” Charlotte thinks. Well, he could’ve seen them in the mirror, seeing that he has the same blue eyes as she has. “Oh, I know.” He says excitedly with a finger up in the air. He opens a drawer on his side of the desk and gets out even more papers. Finally, he has finds what he had been looking for.
“Aha!” he says, while holding up a picture frame. Charlotte can’t see who are on it. Mr. Bourne wipes the glass with his sleeve. “Yes, I can see the comparison. Dark, brown hair, blue eyes. Father once told me you were going to come here eventually.” Charlotte raises both of her well plucked eyebrows. Mr. Bourne turns the picture. A short feeling of excitement flows through Charlotte’s body as she sees a familiar face on the picture. Her father. The other one she does not know, but the woman looks like her. The dark, brown hair, the blue eyes. That must be her mother.
“When I was younger, I used to play with you all the time.” A satisfied smile comes across his face as he thinks back to those years. “You were such a cute little girl. A shame your mother died so young.” Did everybody know about her past, except from herself? James frowns sadly. Charlotte takes a deep breath in.
“How do you know my father?” She brings out with a tremble.
“Ah, your father and mine were very good friends for years, Miss. Until one day, I think I was ten, your father broke contact. My father was devastated, really.” Mr. Bourne smirks. “I can remember when my father told me that you and me were going to marry one day.” He laughs at this memory. Charlotte smiles. She can’t remember him, in any way. She has never seen pictures of herself of the first six years of her life, let alone of someone else.
“But anyway…” His voice trails off and he puts away the frame. “What has brought you here, Miss Coughtrie?” He folds his hands and puts them on the desk. “Or should I call you Charlotte?” He smiles a beautiful smile.
“Charlotte is fine. Seeing as you’ve known me for so long,” She pauses. “apparently.” She quickly adds. Mr. Bourne nods.
“Right. Well, you can call me James, then.” He smiles once again. “But back to business,” he continues. “what exactly brought you here?” Charlotte shuffles around in the hard, leather chair and sighs deeply.
“Well, to say it bluntly. I want to see my father’s will.” She pauses and gazes at James. “Please.” Another pause, James stares at her blankly. “If that’s possible.” She adds. James doesn’t respond in any way. He only stares at her with big eyes. “Pretty please?” Charlotte adds desperately. She can’t help but laugh shortly at his gaze. James shakes his head,
“Erm, well. Yes, of course. I mean, yes. No, I mean.” He takes a deep breath in through his nose and slowly blows it out through his mouth. “Charlotte,” He sits up straight, then stands up and walks round the desk. “I don’t think that’s possible.” He sits on the edge of the desk and puts his hands on his lap. Then he moves them to his sides. Then he eventually folds them in front of his chest. James bites his lower lip as he sees Charlotte’s questioning look. “It’s a bit complicated.” He explains. “You can’t just walk in and ask for your father’s will. It doesn’t work that way. Plus,” He continues. “your father’s will has probably been destroyed after the funeral.” James watches Charlotte’s questioning look change into a sad one. “But I’ll see what I can do.” He stands up and gets back to his enormous leather chair where he sits down. He picks up the phone and pushes a number.
“Yes, father. It’s me, James. You never guess who’s in front of me right now.” He pauses as he listens to the person on the other side of the phone, most likely to be his father. “How do you guess? You can never guess again, spoilsport.” He laughs at his own joke, and continues. “She’s here because she wants to take a look at Max’ will.” He explains the rest quickly, listens a few minutes, occasionally a ‘Hmhm’, he then rests the phone into its holder.
“Well,” He starts, putting away some of the papers on his desk, not making eye contact. “I’ve spoken to my father and he says that you can take a look at you father’s will. But,” He says and bites his lip again. “there is one tiny problem.”
“And that problem would be?” Charlotte asks and leans in to hear him better.
“His will is, so to speak, on the other side of the country.” Charlotte sighs in relief. It hasn’t been destroyed after all.
“Well, have you ever heard of faxing?” James smiles and takes a laptop from out of a drawer.
“Yes, I certainly have.” He says while switching it on. “I’ll email the people who have hold of his will right away and then I will give you a ring when it’s here.” He looks up from the compact computer. “Can I please have your number then?” He smiles sweetly.
“Yeah, sure.” Charlotte gives her number, which James puts in the computer right away. As soon as his fingers have left the keyboard, he stands up. Charlotte follows his example and shakes his hand.
“Thank you ever so much, James. I really appreciate it.” Charlotte smiles his way.
“Not a problem. You’re a friend of the family.” He gives a friendly peck on Charlotte’s cheek. She turns away and steps out of the office. Then something comes to her mind.
“James?” James had already sat down in his chair again.
“Yes, Charlotte?” He looks up at her with his eyebrows slightly raised.
“I thought it was ‘Simpson’s & Bourne’s’. Where’s the Simpson part?” A tall man walks past Charlotte.
“Here’s the Simpson’s part.” The man says with a deep laugh. He’s wearing almost the same suit as James, only his is black and he’s wearing a baby blue shirt with a black and white striped tie. He looks a bit older than James, his hair is also a bit darker than James’. His eyebrows draw the main attention of his face, that has a sharp jaw line. His deep, dark brown eyes look at Charlotte. He takes one hand out of his pocket.
“Charles Simpson, friends call me Charlie.” Charlotte shakes his hand.
“Charlotte Coughtrie, nice to meet you.” His hand squeezes her own hand to pulp, but she doesn’t care. She’s drowning in his eyes.
“Same here. Aren’t you the gal that was supposed to marry James?” He pulls back his hand and puts it in his pocket, as where it had come from.
“Sorry, that’s not what I meant. You’re Max’ daughter, aren’t you?” He corrects himself as soon as he has seen James’ deadly gaze. Charlotte nods.
“Yes, I am. It was nice meeting you, Charlie. James, I’ll speak to you soon.”
Chapter seven
Tired, Charlotte flops down onto the sofa and closes her eyes. A terrible headache has been haunting her ever since she left James’ office. She wonders how Matt would be, where he would be and what he would be doing right now. Probably shagging some random girl. She quickly banns that thought out of her head. No, he had said that she was different.
Until around 11am, Charlotte stays in bed the following day. She feels sick, she’s cold, while her head feels hot. Her hands tremble when she tries to grab a mug of coffee. She combs her hair carefully, she notices that her hands are still shaking. Puke is rising up in her throat. She slams the comb down onto the little table next to the bed and runs, as for life, to the bathroom to empty her stomach. Just as she’s about to stand up straight and look into the mirror to see how miserable she looks, the phone rings. Half hoping it’s Matt, half that it’s James, she picks it up and answers the call with a trembling voice.
“Hello?” Again, she feels the puke rising up. “Can you hold on a second?” But before the person on the other end can give an answer, she runs back to the bathroom, to empty her stomach once again. There can’t be anything left in there now. Not possible. She didn’t have any breakfast yet.
“Hello, I’m back. Sorry.” Charlotte apologises and takes a quick sip from the glass of water she had on her side while puking her intestines out.
“That’s okay.” Charlotte gets a weird feeling in the pit of her stomach. She recognises it as not going to puke. “I’m just calling to let you know that I’ve got your father’s will here.” Charlotte smiles satisfied. “Would you like me to read it up now, or are you going to stop by?” She isn’t feeling very well, but the urge to see that will out drowns the feeling of sickness.
“I’ll stop by, thank you.” Charlotte brings out, after taking another sip of water.
Not an hour later, Charlotte is in James’ office again. But only to hear the message from Charlie that James is not there. He got an emergency call from his father.
“But I can give you the will, so it doesn’t really matter. Unless you insist that James is going to hand it over?” Charlotte shakes her head. Who gives a damn who’s going to give that fucking will? As long as she gets it. Preferably right now.
“No, that’s okay.” Charlie gives her a large package of paper.
“By the way, Charlotte?” Charlotte gives him a look as if to say ‘go on’, whilst she sees through the papers quickly. “Are you feeling okay? You don’t look very well to me.”
“No, I don’t actually. Thanks for asking.” Charlotte forces herself to smile her sweetest smile, but it’s useless. A sudden feeling of dizziness overwhelms her. She puts the papers onto the desk and grabs the nearest thing to hold on to, which in this case is Charlie. A black curtain falls for her eyes and for a minute or so, she’s unconscious.
“Charlotte? Charl? Wake up.” Charlie is giving her soft smacks on the cheek, trying to wake her up. He is sitting on the floor with Charlotte on his lap, he softly brushes the hair out of her face. Charlotte’s eyes turn in their sockets as she tries to open them.
“What the fuck has just happened?” She whispers, whilst she looks up at the big guy who’s squeezing her shoulders gently.
“You’ve fainted, that’s all.” He pushes her up a bit, so he can stand up for himself, then pulls Charlotte up.
“Thanks,” Charlotte brings out. “I think I should go home now.” Charlie is holding onto her in a weird position; one hand on her waist, so she won’t loose her balance, the other one on her shoulder, so she won’t fall to the other side.
“I think so too. Go and get some rest. You look awful, sorry for saying.” Charlotte gives a faint smile.
“That’s okay. I know I look awful.” A small laughter escapes from her mouth.
“You looked much prettier the other day…” Charlie states as he looks at her. “Shall I bring you home?”
”No, I’m okay. I think I can find the bus-stop myself.” She turns round to walk out of the office again, but nearly looses her balance.
“I’m gonna bring you home, don’t matter what you say.” Charlie says firmly.
His red Porsche drives them smoothly to Charlotte’s apartment on instructions from her. With the papers in the one hand, and Charlotte in the other, he drags her to the door, where Charlotte opens the door.
Softly, but firmly, he tucks Charlotte into bed.
“Seriously, you look awful.” He says and feels her forehead. “You’re warm, too.” He pulls a concerned face as he says this. “Want me to go through the stack of papers while I’m here, or do you prefer to do that on your own when you feel a bit better?” Stupid question really, but she wants the company, even though she can barely keep her eyelids open.
“How long have you got?” Charlotte asks with a hoarse tone.
“I work part-time, I’ve got the time of the world today.” Charlotte open her eyes half, and takes a sneaky peek at him. He’s kinda cute.
“Okay. Well, I don’t know you very well, and I don’t normally do this, but can you stay with me for a bit?” Charlie smiles and brushes the hair out of her wet face.
“Of course. But just because you’re a friend of James’.”
For the rest of that day, Charlie looks after her like a mother would for her child. Giving her hot soup, feeling her temperature every once in a while, wipe the sweat off her face with a damp towel.
As soon as Charlie sees Charlotte drifting away to dreamland, he gives her a small peck on the cheek, leaves a goodbye note and goes home.
It’s not for two days after that Charlotte finally leaves her bed and feels better again. In those two days she had slumped to the kitchen and back a few times to get something to eat and the bathroom for a pee.
She had felt too sick to even think about anyone or anything else until this morning. She found the stack of papers of her father’s will and started to read.
It basically turned out that her father and Maria had both decided that Charlotte would get her well earned money on her eighteenth birthday, but really, Charlotte hadn’t seen a penny of it. Maybe because no one knew about it. Time for another visit at James’.
“Ah, well. Yes, you’re loaded now, aren’t you.” James says, as he looks through a few of the papers that Charlotte had brought with her. “I guess you just have to go to the bank and get your money there.” He smirks. “Not all at once though, that’d be a bit suspicious.” He laughs out loud.
“Where’s Charlie?” Charlotte asks, not even paying attention to what James tells her.
“What?” James asks on his turn, looking a bit surprised.
“I said: Where is Charlie. Are you going deaf or something?” Charlotte snaps, it wasn’t meant to come out as a snap, but it had.
“Oh, well. Answer to question one: I have no idea. And answer to question two: No.” Again he laughs at his own joke.
“Mentally retarded.” Charlotte whispers under her breath.
“I heard my name?” Comes a sudden deep voice.
“What? Mentally retarded? So that’s your real name!” James jokes, and almost rolls on the floor laughing. “Mentally Retarded, get it?” Charlie rolls his eyes.
“Idiot.” Then turns to Charlotte. “You rang, ma’am?” He places a hand on her waist.
“Yep, wanted to thank you for a couple of days ago.” She gives him a peck on the cheek and smiles. James, in the mean while, had only stared blankly at the both of them.
“That’s okay, you feeling better now?” Charlotte nods.
“Uh-huh. Much better, thanks.” Charlie smiles back at her and shows the gap between the two of his front teeth.
“I can see that, too.” He gives a sneaky wink.
“Is there something I should know about?” James asks suspiciously as he pulls up an eyebrow.
“No,” They answer simultaneously. “I better be going now,” Charlie says and gives Charlotte’s shoulder a quick squeeze. “Work, work, work!” He smiles and turns. He looks over his shoulder at Charlotte. “See ya later, babe.” Another wink, and he leaves James and Charlotte alone again.
“I still wonder what planet he comes from. Weirdo.” James says as he shakes his head and looks through some papers again.
“I wonder the same thing about you.” Charlotte sighs as she sits down in the leather chair once again.
“Excuse me?” James asks, and looks up from the papers in a second.
“Nothing.” Charlotte sighs and gazes in front of her, basically into nothing, but it looks like she’s looking right at James’ crotch. James notices this and smirks.
“What you looking at?” He asks.
“Huh? What?” Charlotte says and looks away from whatever she was looking at.
“Never mind.” He answers. “Oh, have you read this part?” He points at a random page.
“I don’t know? What does it say?”
“Your parents gave you in marriage.” James smiles cheekily as he talks. “To me, to be precise.”
“What? You have to be kidding.” Charlotte quickly stands up, pulls the piece of paper out of James’ hands, making him cut himself, and reads every line.
“Joke.” James simply says and sucks his thumb where he had cut himself.
“Arsehole, you nearly gave me a heart attack.” Charlotte sighs in relief.
“What? Would it be that bad to marry to me?” Charlotte nods.
“Yes, it would.” James just stares at her gob smacked. Actually, his jaw nearly reaches the floor. Charlotte looks at him with her head to the side. “I mean, it won’t be that bad to walk down the streets with you. You’re quite cute,” James gives a proud smile. “but you’re just mentally retarded. You’re okay to look at, but everyone seems to run away when you open your mouth.”
“Oh!” James brings out offended, his mouth forming an ‘o’ for the next minute. “You’re the one who’s been in a mental institution here.” He replies after a lot of thinking.
“Yes, that’s because they got you and me mixed up.” She says sharply. “You’re actually Max’ son.” Charlotte adds after a short pause. It’d hurt when James mentioned the mental institution, but she had given it a place in her heart, where it’d be safe.
“You’re right.” James agrees and sits down in his chair, which he stood up from when she had called him mentally retarded. He sighs deeply. “I am mentally retarded.”
“What would make you think that? Aside from the fact that you think you’re really funny?”
“I shouldn’t have mentioned the mental institution. I’m sorry.” He apologises and bangs his head on the desk where he lays still. Charlotte actually begins to feel sorry for the lad, and walks over to him. She gives him a sympathetic pat on his back.
“I’m so happy you said that.” James looks up with droopy eyes.
“Yes, I’m really sorry. I must’ve hurt you so much with that.” He apologises once again.
“No,” Charlotte begins. “I’m happy you finally realized that you’re mentally retarded.” She gives him another pat on his back. “Gotta go now. It’s not all fun, you know. Ta-ta.” She gives him a posh wave and leaves the enormous office.
Chapter eight
Satisfied, Charlotte runs the tap of the bath. Soon, steam has filled the whole bathroom. She undresses slowly, wraps a towel around her compact body and feels the water with her hand. As she’s bending down to dip her fingers into the hot water, a hand slips around her waist and rips the towel off. The hand explores her chest, then more down towards her belly button. She tries to turn around, but the person behind her makes sure she can’t. The grip he has on her only tightens as she once more tries to turn round.
“Shh…” Goes a voice into Charlotte’s ear. He kisses the base of her neck, just like Matt had done a week ago. She pants and wants more. She then looks at the hand that is holding her into place and notices the sleeve of a dark suit. She gasps, furiously hoping that it’s Charlie.
“I love you so much, you wouldn’t believe it.” Goes the voice again. She recognises it this time, and it isn’t Charlie, nor is it Matt. It’s James, holding on to her like mad. “Step into the bath.” He whispers into her ear. Charlotte does as she is been told and steps into the hot water. James squats down next to the bath, his fingers merely touching the surface of the water. “You haven’t been very nice to me, have you?” He looks at her, and smiles sweetly. “You’ve been a very bad girl, even.” A cheeky grin goes across his face. “Calling me mentally retarded…” He trails off. “I’ll show you what a mentally retarded one does…” He stands up from his squat position and bends down to Charlotte. He gives a light kiss onto her nose. He then lays his hands onto her shoulders and pushes her under the water, making Charlotte gasping for breath as he does so. Bubbles come from under the water, James’ hands are getting wet, as are his sleeves, as is his suit, as himself. He drowns with her into the bath.
Charlotte gasps for breath as her head comes above the water again, she had been fallen asleep in the bath. The water’s cold, the towel is somewhere in the bathroom. She steps out of the bath carefully, watching out because she doesn’t want to break her neck. She finds the towel on the other side of the small bathroom, thrown over the pile of clothes. She lets the water go into the drain and leaves the bathroom, still trembling from what she has dreamt.
She goes straight to bed, hoping for a nice dream, but instead she doesn’t dream at all and falls into a deep, black hole.
The next morning Charlotte awakens by a knock on the door. Quickly grabbing her bathrobe and putting it on, she opens the door, to only find Charlie leaning against the doorpost.
“Hello beautiful,” He gives her a kiss on her cheek and lets himself in. “thought I’d bring you breakfast.” He pulls a plastic bag from behind his back. “You like croissants? I hope you do, because I’ve brought loads of those.” Charlotte laughs. Charlie sits down onto the sofa and pulls Charlotte onto his lap. “Hmm, you smell nice.” He whispers as he nuzzles her neck.
“Liar,” Charlotte says and stands up. “I’ve just woken up, how on earth can I smell nice?” Charlie raises his eyebrows in such a way, as if Charlotte had said something incredibly stupid.
“Excuse me for a moment, I’ll be brushing my teeth.” Charlie nods and begins unpacking all the food he had brought with him.
“I still don’t know if you croissants.” He yells from out of the lounge. Within a few minutes, Charlotte comes back from the bathroom.
“Yes, yes, YES, I like croissants. Happy now?” Charlie grins a cheeky one and suddenly gives Charlotte a kiss.
“I still think you smell nice.” He claims, as he sighs satisfied and smiles. His hands disappear under her bathrobe.
“I’m actually quite hungry.” Charlotte says, afraid that she’s going to do something stupid, such as fuck Charlie’s brains out. She quickly grabs a croissant and stuffs it into her mouth. She smiles broadly, showing bits of chewed croissants in her mouth.
“Oh God, Charl. That is just… just… gross.” He stutters, and takes a bite of an other croissant himself. He chews a few times and then opens his mouth wide to show Charlotte what’s in there. He closes his mouth again, chews and swallows. “See how gross that is?” He asks with both of his eyebrows raised.
“That was actually quite interesting. Show me again!” Charlotte exclaims whilst jumping up and down like a kid. “Again, again, again!”
“Weirdo.” Charlie whispers and takes hold of Charlotte, not letting go before she has returned his kiss. “Mentally retarded.” He kisses her neck, her earlobes and her cheeks.
“Now, that’s where you’re wrong. I’m not the mentally retarded one, that’s James you’re speaking of.” He nuzzles her neck.
“Ah, yes. You’re right.” Charlotte giggles as Charlie begins to tickle her sides. They end up on the sofa where Charlie begins to kiss her once more.
Charlie’s on top of her, Charlotte pants into his ear, begging for more.
“Oh, yes. Matt, please, go on.” The kissing stops instantly. Charlie looks at Charlotte, who opens her eyes slowly. “What?”
“You just called me Matt.”
“I did?” Charlotte replies puzzled.
“You did. Who’s Matt?” Charlie gets off the sofa, with his hands on his hips he looks at Charlotte, who’s sprawled over the sofa.
“I… Matt…Charlie, I’m sorry.”
“I bet you fucking are!” He screams, waving his arms about in the air. “Who – is – Matt?”
“Charlie, I think you should better go now. This was a huge mistake.” Charlotte tells him and covers herself up with the bathrobe.
“This wasn’t huge, this was a tremendous mistake. I thought you… I thought you loved me, Charl.” Charlotte’s eyes become wide.
“Have I ever, be honest, ever told you that I loved you? Ever? Because I don’t, Charlie.”
“So, I was just your re-bound boy? So you could get over that Matt guy, who ever he may be?” A sad, but angry look spreads upon his face.
“Charlie, I never asked you anything. I never told you I loved you, I never said that I liked you. The only thing I’m asking for just now, is for you to leave,” She looks at him. “please.”
“And leave I shall.” He thinks for a moment. “You did ask me to stay when you were ill.” He tries hopelessly. “So don’t give me that shit that you never asked me anything, because you did.”
“Wasn’t thinking clearly, I was ill. Leave.” Charlie is not intending to leave. “Leave!”
“I loved you, though.” With that, Charlie walks out the door.
Chapter nine
Still early that morning, Charlotte takes the opportunity to read through some of the left over’s of her father’s will.
‘…not only would I like to give my daughter, Charlotte Aimee Coughtrie, half of my fortune, I would also like to give a quarters of this to my secretary, Ruth Clarissa Daisy Bourne. The house goes to…’
With a bewildered look on her face, Charlotte reads the line again, and again, and again. Without thinking, she grabs her coat, runs down the staircase of the apartment block and takes the first bus to Simpson’s and Bourne’s.
“I- I don’t know- Who is-” Charlotte sits down in the chair opposite of James’, heavily breathing and trying to actually breathe normally. She’d been running all the way up.
“Wait, wait. Calm down first, Charlotte. Here, have some water.” He pours some water into a glass and hands this over to Charlotte. “Now, what are you trying to say?” Again that cheeky grin on his face. “Maybe, ‘I’m sorry’ for yesterday?” He shrugs, his face drops as he sees the piece of papers Charlotte had been holding all the way in her hands.
“My secretary Ruth Cla-, hey! That’s my mother!”
“Thought so,” Charlotte manages to bring out in between sharp breathes. “but why did she get a quarter of his money?” Again James shrugs.
“Beats me,” and he gives the paper back to Charlotte. “but you normally don’t give five million pounds to your secretary.” He looks through the open door, “I wouldn’t anyway.” He pulls a disgusted face at the thought of his own secretary.
“I’m guessing, I repeat, I’m only guessing, that my father had an affair with his secretary, being your mother.” She looks at him, stands up, walks over to his side of the desk and sits on it. “But then again, I’m only guessing.” She crosses her arms in front of her chest. “And, now I’m on a roll anyway, I’m guessing that Maria, being my fake mother, found out somehow. It was too much for her; an unwanted child, and her husband having an affair as well. With his secretary!” She yells as she puts her finger in the air as some sort of statement. “How cliché.” She adds and looks over the piece of paper again. “Then she killed my father for having an affair, and herself because it became too much for her.” James nods.
“Yes, I think you might have a point there.” He thinks for a short moment. “But why hasn’t she murdered you, then?” Charlotte shrugs.
“On my turn: beats me. Maybe because she’d been swallowed in self-pity that she’d totally forgotten about me being in the room, or being alive in first place.” James smiles satisfied.
“You might not be as stupid as you look.” Charlotte hits him over the head. “We can’t get a case out of this, however. This is only based on guessing.” Charlotte shrugs.
“So? I was only trying to find out so I could give it place in my heart. As I did with some other things.” She rolls her eyes, and rests them on James. He crosses his arms, just like Charlotte. He looks at her carefully. He squeezes his eyes to slits. “What?” Charlotte asks, and looks from the right to the left.
“Nothing. It’s just that my mother has dark hair and blue eyes as well.”
“James?”
“Yes?” He is still looking into her eyes, wandering off to her hair and her face features. “You look an awful lot like my mum, actually.”
“James, where can we find the actual date and time of death of my mother?” He looks into her eyes for a few seconds longer, then turns the laptop on.
“Should be in the database somewhere.” He types some words down into the search engine of the computer. “Ah, here we go.” He turns the computer in such a way, that Charlotte can look with him.
“Estimated time of death, 13:49, February 4th, 1984. I wasn’t even born back then, let alone that she could’ve been pregnant with me.” She looks over at James, who scratches his head.
“So, or you’re two years older than you’ve always thought, which I doubt, seeing that I’ve known you since you were two. Or we share mums.” He shares a gaze with Charlotte. “Which is not highly impossible.” His jaw drops and his eyes become large. A twinkle appears. “And then think that I fancied you!” Charlotte pulls a face as if she is about to puke.
“Oh my God, James. Did you HAVE to mention that?”
“Yes.”
“So I’m like, related to a mentally retarded arsehole?” Charlotte spits.
“You’re like, my little sister.” He thinks for a small second. “We have the same blood. Or half of it anyway.”
“We don’t know for sure, though. We have to ask your mother.” Charlotte says, praying to God that she isn’t related to a mentally retarded arsehole.
“And you think my mum is just going to say that she’s been fucking with your father?” Again, Charlotte hits James over his head.
“Don’t speak like that about your mum.” She pauses. “My mum.” She corrects herself. “Now that sounded very, extremely weird.”
“Hell yes, it did.” Agrees James.
“Now, where does our beloved mother hang out at this time of the day?” Charlotte wonders out loud. James strokes his chin, and curls an imaginary beard whilst he thinks, his left eye turning to a slit, the other one looking up to the ceiling.
“I think she’d be on the golf course. But looking at the weather, cold and rainy, she’d be inside, chatting to her mates, with a Martini. Or two.” He pauses. “Or three.”
“Ah, perfect!” Charlotte exclaims. “You know what they say about drunken people.” James pulls up his eyebrows,
“No, what?” Charlotte hits her forehead with her hand.
“I swear too God you’re mentally retarded. When you were born, are you sure that the umbilical cord wasn’t wrapped around your neck so that you couldn’t breathe and most of your brain cells dead right away?” James thinks seriously at this moment.
“Nope, I’m sure I was born with a ceasarian section.” Charlotte rolls her eyes.
“Right, well. They say that drunken people always tell the truth.” A smile appears on James’ face.
“You’re such a genius. You must be family.”
“Yes, to my father’s side, maybe. Obviously not yours.” Charlotte says sarcastically.
“Hey, our family is the one who’s running its own lawyer company, okay?” Again, Charlotte doubts whether she’s James’ little sister.
“Erm, James?”
“Yes?”
“My dad worked for this firm.”
“Oh, right. Forgot that for a second.”
“Yes, I noticed.”
On their way out of the office, they bump into Charlie.
“Oh, hello there.” Charlie brings out sarcastically. “Missed me?” He adds.
“Charlie?”
“Yes, dear?”
“Go fuck yourself, please.”
“How am I supposed to f-” But before Charlie can finish his sentence, Charlotte had linked her arm with James’, poking out her tongue to Charlie as she did so.
“Slut!” Charlie calls after them.
“Ahem, Charlie, I don’t fuck brothers.” With that, the two left Charlie with his jaw dropped to the floor.
The drive from the law firm to James’ parental house, wasn’t long. Only about 25 minutes. James drives up the drive-way, the gravel crunching under the tires.
“Here we go, this is my house. Or at least, I used to live here.” He opens Charlotte’s car door. “I think my room is still the same as when I spend my last night there.” He grins to himself and leads Charlotte to the front door. “Watch this.” He lifts a pot next to the front door and takes a key underneath of it. “Don’t try this at home kids, it never works.” He adds, laughing hysterically at his own joke that wasn’t even funny. Not to mention, not appropriate. He turns the key into the lock. The sound of chatting ladies immediately attacks Charlotte’s ears.
“Hello Nigel. Long time no see.” The tall, scary-looking butler growls. “He’s been here since I was born. Too long.”
“Twenty-three years to be precise, Sir.” Nigel growls after them, as Charlotte follows James into the massive lounge where at least fifteen ladies are sat. Charlotte can pick out James’ mum as she can pick a green paprika out of a pile of yellow ones. James gives his mother a peck on her cheek and whispers some words into her ear.
“Ladies, I will be right back! My son here has to introduce me to his girlfriend.” Mrs. Bourne shouts. “I’ll be right back!” She repeats. James tries to shush her.
With his drunken mum on the left and Charlotte on his right, they leave the bunch of ladies in the lounge and they go to the dining room.
“Well, dear. Aren’t you going to introduce me to this pretty lady?” Mrs. Bourne hiccups. She swings the hand that holds a glass of Martini from side to side. James takes the glass out of her hand, so she can’t poke anyone’s eye out with it. He sits her down onto a chair and signals Charlotte to come forwards.
“Mum, this Charlotte.” He pauses. “Your- erm, daughter.” Mrs. Bourne smiles like mad and shakes Charlotte’s hand.
“Oh, hello dear. So you’re James’ new girlfriend? I thought he’d nev-” Her smile fades as she finally gets what James was telling her. “What did you just say?” She turns to James, who had been biting his lip all this time. Mrs. Bourne seems sober all of the sudden, and she stands up from her chair. “What did you just say?” She repeats, at exactly the same tone as she had done before.
“Mum, this is-” But Charlotte cuts him off.
“Mrs. Bourne, James and I have reasons to believe that you might be my mother.” Explains Charlotte, as she sits Mrs. Bourne down again, who is practically begging James for her Martini.
“But I have never-, I only had James, I swear to God! Oh no,” She pauses and seems to think. “wait a minute. I’ve had two children, but they’ve always told me that my little girl had died when she was born.” Her eyes twinkle. “Are you my baby- You are my baby Aimee!” She shouts and pulls Charlotte in for a suffocating hug. She looks at Charlotte carefully, taking every detail of her face features, in. “Oh yes. My eyes, my hair.” She pauses and rubs a darker little spot lust above Charlotte’s lip. “No one in our family has freckles, though.”
“No, I have those of my father.” Charlotte explains with a faint smile.
“And who would your father be, child?” Charlotte bites her lower lip and looks at James for a short second. James nods as if to say, ‘go ahead’.
“Max Coughtrie.” Mrs. Bourne was about to swallow and nearly chokes on the amount of spit stuck in her throat. She waves around in the air, trying to point to her Martini. As soon as James has given her the Martini, she drinks all of it at once.
“Excuse me?” She swallows the last drip of Martini and looks at Charlotte with wild eyes. Charlotte could see her asking herself how on earth Charlotte knew that she’d been fucking around with Max, her father.
“We know, Mrs. Bourne.” Mrs. Bourne’s eyes turn in their sockets and she sits down on the chair for the millionth time.
“But how?” She asks herself out loud.
“It was quite obvious when we found out that Charlotte, my actual but turned out not to be mother, had died two years before I was even born. I knew Maria wasn’t my mother. And in Max’ will was written that you’d get five million pounds if he died.” Mrs. Bourne nods; she understands what is being said.
“Ah, yes.” She only mutters and faints under the eye of her new found daughter.
Chapter ten
When Charlotte comes back into her little apartment after a tiring day spending with a mentally retarded arsehole who turned out to be her half-brother, she scares herself half to death as she finds Matt asleep on the couch.
“What the hell are you doing here?” She shouts hysterically and hits his legs so she can sit next to him.
“Huh? What? I fell asleep.” Matt tries to bring out with a sleepy voice.
“Yes, I can see that.” Charlotte grins and hugs Matt tight. “Oh, I’ve missed you so much.”
“You have?” Matt asks when they’ve parted.
“Hell yeah, I have.” She pauses and takes a careful look at him. “Anyway, how have you been?” She strokes a bit of hair from out of his face that had been annoying her personally ever since she came in the room. He looks amazingly handsome, even though he has sacks under his eyes.
“I’m okay,” He answers her question, “now, anyway.” He adds with a tired smile and gives Charlotte a kiss with closed eyes.
“Hmm, yes. But you look a little, well how do I put it, burned out.” She replies with a concerned look on her face. She strokes his cheek, and examines his face again; the dark brown eyes, the cheeky, but at the moment tired grin. He was just so perfect.
“That’s because I haven’t been able to sleep properly, darl’.” Charlotte pulls up an eyebrow. “Couldn’t get you out of my head.” Charlotte grabs his by the sides of his face like a grandmother would do with her grandson.
“Aww, now that’s so sweet.” She gives him a little peck on his forehead.
“Anyway, enough about me. What’ve you been doing all week while I was away?”
“You have absolutely no idea whatsoever what I’ve been going through in the past week.” Matt raises his eyebrows.
“And I would like to know?” Charlotte nods, Matt sits back and rubs his tired eyes. “Okay, well. Tell me then.”
“Okay, well first I went to see my grandmother in the south of London to hear that…” Charlotte’s voice trails off in this story, the camera zooms out of the couple sitting on the couch and the credits start to roll down on the screen that you’ve looking at for the past… Oh God knows for how long.
I’d like to thank Mizz, my support throughout most of this story. Mizz, thank you *sniff* for being there and hyping me up. If it weren’t for you *sniff sniff*, I wouldn’t be able to have written such a cool story, lmfao.
Howdeeho and the greetings!