Page 13 of Charlie Sunshine
“You’re so suspicious.” He shrugs when I give him a pointed look. “I am a multi-faceted person. It can’t be denied.” I stare some more, and he slumps. “Okay, I’m a multi-faceted person who lives on a narrowboat with a very tiny water tank.”
“Go on through,” I say with a sigh. “The shower awaits.”
“Yes.” He punches the air and disappears, carrying his cake.
I take the opportunity to sit in his place. Jesus, this sofa is comfortable. All pillowy and just firm enough to cushion me. I lean back and find Charlie watching me, a twinkle in his eyes.
“It’s comfortable, isn’t it?” he says happily.
“It’s passable.” I shrug.
“Okay, Pinocchio.” He laughs, then he looks me up and down. “Are you going out?” There’s something in his eyes that I can’t quite work out… Then I miss my chance, because it vanishes.
“In a bit. I’ll sit for a few minutes.” I employ my puppy-dog eyes. “And eat cake.”
He shakes his head, but I notice happily that he still cuts me the biggest slice of cake.
I look at the TV where Paul and Prue are lecturing a tentful of people. “Well, at least it’s not that filmThe Mummy.”
“You don’t likeThe Mummy?”Zeb asks. “How is that even possible?”
“Have you ever watched it with Charlie?”
He shakes his head.
“Wait for it,” Charlie mutters to Zeb. “You’ve done it now.”
“I do like it,” I say sourly. “I just don’t like the rallying call that it sends to Charlie’s librarian soul.”
Jesse nods glumly. “He gets very worked up in the scene where all the shelves fall over in the library, and then he starts to talk about the time they had a flood at his library, and they had to move all the non-fiction books.”
“Which happened five years ago,” I add darkly.
Jesse shakes his head sadly. “And then every time she says ‘I am a librarian,’ we all have to cheer and Charlie stands up and waves his fist in the air.”
“I’m hopingThe Great British Bake Offisn’t quite as energetic,” I say.
Zeb shrugs. “It got quite heated on biscuit week.”
“There was nothing wrong with those butter biscuits,” Charlie says. “And Prue knew it.”
The doorbell rings, and Charlie gets up instantly. When he reappears with Harry, my mood immediately sours.
“Oh great,” I whisper as I watch Harry greet my friends as though they’re his. His arm is slung over Charlie’s shoulder, and every few seconds, he stops his conversation to nuzzle into Charlie’s neck.
“What are you scowling about?” comes a whisper from my side.
I look at Rupert. “Nothing,” I say quickly.
“Oh, so it’s not Harry’s octopus-like grip on Charlie’s backside?”
“Exactly,”I hiss, turning to him. “I’m glad you can see it too. It’s like Harry thinks Charlie might collapse if his hand isn’t physically propping up Charlie’s buttocks.”
Rupert’s eyes twinkle. “Hmm,” he says contemplatively.
“What does that mean?”
“Just thinking,” he says innocently.
