CHAPTER TWO
“Well, this is lovely.” Charlie’s mum followed him into his new flat, and Charlie smiled at her over his shoulder.
“It will be when I’ve unpacked everything.”
So far he’d done the kitchen boxes and the ones for the bathroom. Plenty more were stacked in his bedroom and the middle of the living room.
“Want me to stay and help?”
“No, it’s fine.” Charlie set Storm’s cage on the sofa and opened the front. “There you go, sweetheart. Welcome to your new home.” She stared back at him with a betrayed expression and refused to come out.
His mum laughed. “Someone’s not happy.”
“I bet she got used to your big garden.” His mum had offered to have her for a couple of days while Charlie moved out of his old place and into this one. Charlie hadn’t realised how much he’d miss her until she’d gone.
“I bet she won’t miss having to go out on a lead, though.”
Probably not.
He glanced out through the living room windows. It wasn’t his mum and dad’s huge lawn, but she had access to grass. Hopefully she’d settle in soon. Leaving her on the sofa with the cage door open, he turned to his mum. “Let me show you the rest of it.”
The quick tour around his two-bedroom flat took all of five minutes, but his mum was enthusiastic, and her good mood rubbed off on him. Today had been bittersweet, but he was glad to finally get in and start his new life.
On his own.
“Are you working tonight?” his mum asked when they returned to the kitchen.
“Yeah, in about—” He glanced at his phone to check the time. “Shit. I need to leave in about thirty minutes.” And he still had so much to do. He looked at the boxes in the living room, then in the direction of the bedroom, then back at Storm’s cage. “Shit.”
His mum’s hand on his shoulder startled him. “What do you need to get done first? What can’t wait for tomorrow?”
“Um…” He ran through a list in his head. “I need to get Storm set up with food, water, and a litter tray. Ideally, I want to get my bed made and maybe the TV et cetera up and running.”
“Right then.” His mum took off her cardi and carefully laid it over one of the kitchen stools. “You get Storm’s stuff ready, and I’ll go make up your bed. We’ll get the important things sorted, and if you have time, you can set all that up”—she waved a hand in the direction of the living room—“when you get back from work.” She had that no-nonsense tone, and Charlie knew it’d be fruitless to try and persuade her to go home and relax. Besides, he could really do with her help.
“That’d be great, thanks, Mum.”
By the time half-five rolled around, his bed was made and Storm had everything she needed. Should she choose to ever come out. He stood looking down at her cage. He’d placed it on the kitchen floor next to her bed, and even put food down in the hope she’d venture out, but she still refused to budge, glare firmly in place.
His mum patted him on the arm, her laughter soft. “God, she’s such a moody madam.”
“Yep.” That’s what you got for having a Siamese. Well, part Siamese, he reckoned. She was a rescue and more of a blue-grey than the typical cream, but those blue eyes and pointy ears had to mean it was in there somewhere. And he wouldn’t have her any other way.
“I’m sure she’ll come round in a day or two when she realises you’re not shipping her off again.”
Charlie raised an eyebrow. “Make me feel even more guilty, why don’t you?”
Squeezing his shoulder, his mum smiled. “I’m only teasing. Of course, you couldn’t have her at the house with everything going on.” Her tone softened. “Did Tim help you move?”
He nodded.
“Was it all okay?”
Letting out a shaky laugh, he rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah. I mean, it was a bit weird, and sad too, if I’m honest. Splitting up was definitely the right thing to do—for both of us—but it might take a while to get used to not seeing him all the time. We’re still friends though.”
She gave him a proper hug this time, nice and tight, and Charlie relaxed into her warmth, letting her soothe some of the remaining ache. Even though their split had been about as amicable as it could be, it still hurt. Knowing they’d failed to keep their relationship thriving left a bitter aftertaste that would linger for a while yet.
And I’m going to miss him.
“Well, at least you got the cat,” his mum said, forcing a chuckle out of him.
Storm chose that moment to let out a loud meow and stroll out of her carrier to fuss around his legs, and despite the hollowness in his chest, Charlie grinned down at her, then bent to stroke her head. “Yeah,” he replied eventually. “I did.”
“Right, I need to get back to your father, and you need to go to work.” Standing on her tiptoes, she reached up to kiss his cheek. “Will we see you for lunch on Sunday?”
“Probably.” Truth be told, he hadn’t planned beyond today. Moving all his stuff had been stressful enough. “I’ll let you know by Friday. That okay?” He walked her to the door and opened it for her.
“Of course.” With a smile and a little wave, she was gone, and his flat suddenly seemed far too empty.
Another loud meow reminded him that wasn’t the case though, and Charlie thanked his lucky stars that Tim hadn’t argued over Storm. Snatching his keys off the small hall table, he walked back into the kitchen and crouched down to talk to his cat. “Right.” Storm eyed him curiously. “You’ve got food, water, and a nice new blanket in your bed.” He pointed as he spoke, but Storm just blinked and stared at him, and Charlie shook his head. “Like you give a shit what I’m saying.” He gave her another stroke, then straightened. “Don’t scratch the sofa, and please don’t piss anywhere other than your litter tray. I’ll be back in a few hours.”
She yawned and turned to face the opposite direction, then began to clean herself.
“Glad we got that settled.” And, oh God, he’d turned into that guy—talking to his bloody cat.
On that note, he grabbed his jacket off the counter and left for work.
“SHIT.” CHARLIE SIGHED and bent to pick up the keys he’d just dropped onto the ground. A yawn escaped him, the third in about the last ten minutes. Fuck, he was bloody knackered. Having to rush out to work at five that morning wasn’t what he’d envisaged after not getting to bed until gone eleven last night, but people couldn’t help getting sick. Thank God he had nothing else planned until after lunch.
Pocketing his keys, Charlie yawned again and trudged towards the main front door of the flats. It opened before he reached it, and the guy who walked out caught Charlie’s attention even in his worn-out state. Dark hair with hints of red, solid build, nice pair of shoulders. He had his head down, so Charlie couldn’t get a good look at his face until he suddenly looked up and stopped in his tracks. His eyes widened at the sight of Charlie, and something about that expression seemed familiar.
“Hi.” Charlie took two steps forward and held out his hand. “Charlie Whitmore. I just moved into 1B.” He gestured in the direction of his flat.
The guy hesitated for a second, then took the offered hand and shook it. “Sam Gellar. And I know. We saw you moving in yesterday.”
And you didn’t come and introduce yourself? He and Tim had been in and out for a good four hours while they fetched stuff from the old house. Surely at some point, it might have been polite to come and say hi? It’s what Charlie would have done.
The guy’s eyes narrowed, expression turning a little pinched, and that flare of recognition became a hell of a lot stronger.
“I know you.” Charlie stared at him, racking his brain for an inkling as to how or from where. Sam Gellar…
The guy sighed, heavy and put upon, and then it clicked.
Charlie grinned and pointed a finger at him. “Moreston Secondary School. Am I right?”
“Yep.”
“Fuck me!” Charlie blew out a breath. “What’s it been? About fifteen years?”
“Give or take,” Sam muttered.
Call him paranoid, but Charlie got the distinct feeling this wasn’t an altogether welcome reunion. And he really couldn’t be arsed with that after less than five hours sleep.
He stepped to the side, aiming to go round him. “Well, it was nice to meet you, again. Probably see you around.” He offered Sam a parting smile and walked past him to the door. Sam’s belated, “Okay, yeah,” following him.