Page 6 of Kissing Games
‘Angola.’
‘Fuck’s sake! Okay, I’ll stick it out at the Petrovs.’
‘Sorry, mate, no can do. You’re out. You pissed off Mrs P good and proper when you turned her down. I’ve just had the main man himself spitting blood down the phone. What a charmer.’
‘Did you tell him his wife tried it on?’
‘You soft in the head? Don’t be fucking daft. I’m quite attached to my testicles, thank you very much.’
Charlie’s phone beeped with another call coming through.Tabbie. ‘Mate, can I call you back? I’ve got Tab on the other line.’
‘Yeah, no worries. Say hi from me.’
Charlie switched calls and took a big breath, trying to think what he’d fucked up this time. He was always on the naughty step when it came to his big sister. ‘Hey, Tab, how’s it going?’ he said, his voice artificially light.
‘I’m not even going to go through the rigmarole of getting you to guess what you’ve forgotten, so here it is on a plate. Mum’s birthday. It was yesterday. You forgot. Again.’ He bent over as if punched in the stomach. ‘Seriously, Charlie. How difficult is it to put a reminder on your phone? She’s so upset.’
‘Really?’ He retreated from his shame behind a wall of belligerence. His family weren’t the most emotionally open. He was taught to have a stiff upper lip before he could walk.
‘You’re such an arsehole. Yes! Of course she’s upset. I don’t know why you keep trying to paint Mum as some kind of soulless ice queen.’
‘I’ll order her some flowers, get a card.’
‘No, Charlie. Ring her. Go and visit. Be fucking present with them.’
He shook his head. He couldn’t go there. He couldn’t start to unpick the last thirty-two years. Not now. Not after Caroline. ‘I can’t, Tabbie. I’m working.’
‘Being a personal shopper to the stars? Come on, you can get time off.’
‘I can’t. I’m flying tomorrow.’
‘Where?’ Tabbie sounded suspicious.
‘Angola,’ he lied.
3
Heathrow airport was buzzing.
Charlie went through security and stood on the edge of the central atrium, watching the crowds. He was used to airports but they always made him feel lonely. There were too many families and too many kids.
He ignored the odd flirtatious glance tossed his way. His exterior may have appeared strong and confident, but it was a cracked shell. Inside he was hollow. He’d spent years believing his love for Caroline was enough to fill the aching hole in his chest. That her love for him could mask his deep self-loathing. But now she was gone for good and what was he left with? The gut-wrenching realisation that their part-time relationship had always been one-sided and built on constantly shifting sand.
A flash of white teeth and a throaty laugh caught his attention as a woman walked past on her phone. She stopped a couple of feet away, her entire focus on who she was talking to. Her smile and the personality behind it was a spark to his heart, reminding it to keep beating. One day he wanted someone to be that pleased to speak to him.
The woman was small, maybe five foot four, and wearing well-worn black boots and a big dark-green parka over leggings. A plain baseball cap was pulled low on her head and gloriously thick, glossy black hair spilled down her back. He couldn’t see the top half of her face but her smile was dazzling.
He stood rooted to the spot, mesmerised by her lips as she chattered away. Over her shoulder was an old khaki canvas rucksack. A Colombian flag had been stitched on and was starting to come off. Was she a student?
Charlie watched her walk to a coffee concession in front of him and queue, her small frame hemmed in by people and their luggage, her free hand gesticulating as if the person on the other end of the phone could see her. Despite how miserable he’d been, the corners of his mouth turned up. She had more life in her little finger than he had in his entire body. Everything about her made him want to be alive.
When her order arrived, she finished her call, took her drink and tried to get out of the concession. A large family with no inclination to move was in her way. She weaved through them but Charlie saw her rucksack snag on the edge of one of their metal suitcases. As she walked on, the owner of the suitcase jerked it away, tearing a hole at the bottom of her rucksack. The woman didn’t appear to notice it, nor her purse dropping out of the hole to the ground. She strode on towards the toilets and lounges.
Charlie dashed over, scooping up the purse and jogging after her. ‘Excuse me?’
She didn’t stop.
‘Excuse me, Miss?’
