Page 3 of Kissing Games
‘Look, mate, there’s always new opportunities coming up. I’ll keep my ear to the ground. In the meantime, try and be cool with the Petrovs.’
Charlie gave a non-committal ‘hmm’ in response, a ball of lead sitting in his belly.
‘Oh, and one more thing,’ said Mack. ‘Do us all a favour and use the fucking deadbolt on your door. Okay?’
2
Half an hour later, Charlie sat in a chic coffee house on Kensington High Street, waiting for the love of his life to arrive. He took a corner seat, back to the wall, and surveyed the scene. Well-dressed upper-class women with sleek brown locks brayed at each other and cooed over poodle crossbreeds. Men with floppy hair, Gucci leather bracelets and skinny red chinos fist-bumped and called each other ‘homie’. This was the world he was born into but never felt a part of.
Charlie’s happy place was in the field: camo paint on, weapon to hand, surrounded by men you could trust with your life. Men who would die for you. He reflexively touched his shoulder, feeling a thin ridge of scar tissue under the shirt, then dropped it back to cradle Caroline’s latte, keeping it warm.
Where was she?
His leg bounced impatiently. She was always late, but any later and her drink would be cold.
His phone lit up and he grabbed it.Tabbie.His older sister. She only ever rang to give him a bollocking. He rejected the call. In his peripheral vision he saw a flash of gold. He stood, heart thumping.Caro. She was finally here.
Caroline Baskerville, née Fitzroy, was tall, slim and stunningly beautiful, with straight blonde hair, pale-blue eyes and high cheekbones. She was dressed in a long fawn cashmere coat, a matching scarf hanging down her front. Charlie’s chest expanded. He’d fallen for her the first time they’d met, at a formal dinner in the officer’s mess. He had the honour of sitting at his commanding officer’s table thanks to a favour his father, another officer, had called in. Charlie rewarded both men by sweeping his CO’s daughter off her feet and straight into bed. It could have been perfect: the joining of two upper-class military families. But it had gone tits-up from day one.
‘Caro.’ He reached for her but she turned her head to the side and his kiss grazed her cheek. She pulled back and sat, putting her phone on the table. Charlie looked instinctively at her left hand but she was wearing gloves. She made no movement to take off her coat. Not a good sign.
He pushed the latte towards her. ‘I’ve got your favourite.’ Liquid sloshed over the sides. ‘Fuck, hang on, let me get a napkin.’ He stood, banging into the table, sending more coffee spilling out. He grabbed the mug before it tipped over completely.Fuck’s sake! Hold it together, dickhead. He forced a smile. ‘Let me get you a fresh one.’
‘No, it’s fine. This is fine.’ Caroline took the mug, sipped, then frowned. ‘Has this got milk in it?’
‘Tall, skinny chai latte. Right?’ Unease uncoiled like a snake in his stomach.
She put the mug down. ‘No, I’m lactose intolerant.’
‘Since when?’
‘Over a year. Remember when my tummy was bad on that weekend in the Lake District?’
The snake inside started to bite. ‘We’ve never been to the Lake District.’
Caroline’s cheeks reddened and she dropped her head.
Charlie held his breath, willing his emotions to crawl back under their rock. ‘Caro,’ he began quietly. ‘You said if I left the army you’d leave him. I’ve been out for over a year now.’
‘I…’ Caroline began. ‘It’s complicated.’ She looked wretched, the fingers of her right hand twisting what he guessed were the rings under the glove of her left.
‘Is it? Look, we love each other. You only married him because I wouldn’t leave the army. You don’t love him. You’ve never loved him.’ He rubbed his forehead in frustration. ‘Fuck’s sake, we were in bed again two weeks after you got back off honeymoon.’
Her head darted around. ‘Charlie!’ she hissed. ‘Shh!’
He lifted his hands. ‘Why? I’m not ashamed.’
‘You know I never wanted to be an army wife.’
‘And I left.’
‘It’s just more of the same, Charlie.’
‘No, Caro. It’s not. I’m babysitting rich people. I choose my hours and where I work. I’m in London for you. I’ve done everything you asked me to do. What have I missed?’
The background hum of chatter and laughter filled the silence between them. Caroline’s phone lit up. Charlie read “ICE Gareth Baskerville” before she rejected the call.In Case of Emergency. That prick was her emergency contact?
‘Caro, I left my career for you, I—’
