Seventy-five
Beth had no idea what Charlie was talking about. ‘I beg your pardon?’
‘Did it never occur to you that maybe your husband wasn’t the father of your baby? Did you never think to at least let me know she existed?’
Her mind was whirring. ‘You said I came to see you in 2006, and we talked about my nanna?’
‘Yes. Not just her. We talked about loads of stuff. How unhappy you were. How you wanted to make a break from your husband. I promised to support you if you decided to leave. To be honest, I didn’t think it was a conversation you’d forget! Even given your apparently appalling memory.’
‘I wouldn’t. I didn’t …’
‘It seemed like you’d made up your mind to leave him. But then … nothing. No contact. I thought after we’d made love that I meant something to you.’
‘It must’ve been the night I took the sleeping pills …’
‘You tried to kill yourself?’
‘No, no, nothing like that.’ Beth shook her head. ‘I’ve just realised what must’ve happened.’
‘Every time I spoke to Michelle, she told me you were still with James. I figured you’d changed your mind. In the end, I stopped waiting for you to come back.’
‘I really am sorry if I made you think I was leaving him.’
‘What else was I supposed to think?’
She thought she was helping. Beth remembered how much Lisa had wanted her to be with Charlie. She hadn’t stopped championing him, right up until the moment she’d died. A thought struck her. ‘Please tell me I didn’t drive over to your place?’
‘You’re seriously asking me that question?’
‘Charlie … did I drive?’
‘No, you came on the bus. It stops right outside my flat. Your car wasn’t working. Christ, Beth!’
‘I know. I’m sorry. My memory is …’ She wondered whether to try blaming the fall she’d had. Anything rather than sound like she simply didn’t care.
‘Why didn’t you tell me about the baby?’
‘The baby? Megan, you mean?’
‘Yes, I had a right to know.’
‘You think she’s yours?’
‘Don’t you?’
‘I never knew anyone but James could be her dad.’
‘Well your knowledge of biology is a bit shit then.’
‘I didn’t …’
‘You said it yourself, she takes after you. Nothing from him.’
‘Yes. But that doesn’t mean anything.’
Charlie took his wallet from his back pocket. ‘Like I say, my mum’s gone now. God rest her soul. I carry this everywhere.’ He took out a photograph from one of the compartments. ‘This is me with my parents, when I was about eight. We were at Butlins. Best holiday of my life.’ The photograph had clearly been folded in order to fit inside his wallet. The fold mark ran all the way down his poor dad’s face, but little Charlie was still remarkably clear. ‘Do you remember that face, Beth? Look at the shape of my nose, my eyes – even the ears for God’s sake. Remind you of anyone?’ He handed the photograph to Beth.
She studied the picture. ‘Wow!’ The hair was different, but there was no denying the resemblance. She glanced from the photograph in her hand to the one on the coffee table. Stroking her finger gently across the little boy’s face, she whispered, ‘How could I have forgotten what you looked like? This could be Megan.’
‘Exactly. I thought it as soon as I saw her. She’s you and she’s me.’
‘I’m sorry. It was never my intention to … I honestly never knew.’
He sighed. ‘I supposed it was just the one time. You assumed she was James’s.’
‘Something like that.’ How could she even begin to tell him she didn’t know she’d made love to him that day? ‘All these years, you should have known her.’
‘Can I know her now?’
‘Yes, of course. I want you to.’
‘Thanks. I’ll leave it to you to explain to her who I am.’
Beth nodded, still struggling to understand it herself. So, it was Lisa who managed to get me the one thing I wanted most of all! She must have spotted the likeness. No wonder she was so determined that I get back in touch with Charlie.
Remembering the tiny baby in the white sleep suit, Beth asked Charlie, ‘You had a child of your own, though, didn’t you?’
‘No. No children for me.’
‘But …?’
‘What?’
Should she confess to seeing him that time in the supermarket? She might appear rude not to have stopped and said hello. She pondered her choices. In the end, she concluded there was no other way of asking about the petite brunette with the baby. ‘I saw you, a couple of years back, in Sainsbury’s.’
‘You should’ve come over.’
‘I didn’t want to bother you. You were with a woman and a baby.’
‘Was I?’
‘Yeah. The baby was tiny. New-born.’
‘Oh right. Was the woman small?’
‘Yes.’
‘Was she moaning at me?’
‘Yes, I’m afraid she was.’
‘My friend, Cheryl. She has a young lad, Ryan. She’s a single mum, I help her out where I can. Mostly I drive her places.’
‘Oh, thank goodness.’ Beth smiled. ‘That you help her out.’ she added.
‘She’s a good friend. Although she is bossy.’
‘You never wanted her to be more than a friend?’
‘No way. She’s not my type.’
‘What is your type?’
‘Surely you don’t need me to spell it out?’
Beth’s heart began to hammer in her chest. ‘Is it … me?’
‘Of course. I told you before, back in Australia. I thought it was clear. I loved being there with you. Remember when those fishes were just swimming around us. So close we could almost touch them?’
Beth thought of her sister. Poor Lisa. Taking a step towards Charlie, she asked, ‘What you said to that guy in the hostel … have you honestly loved me since you were nine?’
‘Um … eight, actually. I think I fell in love with you just after Butlins!’
‘Wow.’
‘It was always you, Beth.’ He also took a step, closing the gap between them. Circling her waist with his arms, he said, ‘Thanks for being my friend.’
She smiled, remembering the funny little boy who hadn’t wanted to leave her behind. ‘It really was always me?’ she whispered.
‘Yep. You’ve got some catching up to do, Beth Campbell.’
‘I think I have.’ She took his bushy face in her hands. ‘And you, Charlie Morris, have got some shaving to do!’
She kissed him.