this. He’d given Kev a wonderful night to look back upon as a precious rose-tinted memory. The restaurant bill alone had almost brought him out in hives, not forgetting the price of the Bollinger. The pub’s mark-up had been astronomical. Then, this morning, Kev had demanded room service. A cooked breakfast and Bucks Fizz. Charlie had gulped down his food, mindful of the time and need to get to work. He’d barely put his knife and fork together when Kev had pushed him back against the mattress and writhed all over him. Whilst that had been nice enough, he’d been unable to stop himself checking the digital clock beside him. He’d silently willed Kev to hurry up and climax so he could get on with checking out. And now, after spoiling her rotten, here she was delaying him further in the foyer of this flipping pub with a well-manicured finger hovering over her electronic diary.
‘Tell you what’ – she chewed her lip thoughtfully – ‘let’s leave things for a fortnight to appease Willow’s suspicions. In which case… how about the twenty-sixth?’ She entered Charlie’s name in the diary. ‘You know, Charlie Bear, I really enjoyed coming here. Perhaps we should make this our regular place to meet up. Then there will never be any worries about being disturbed. I’ll book us in now.’
She made to move towards the reception desk, but Charlie grabbed her arm and spun her round.
‘Darl-ing,’ he whispered, just as the landlord appeared.
‘Still here?’ he beamed.
‘We thought we’d have a quick coffee,’ said Kev, taking Charlie’s hand.
Suddenly he was the one being guided, but in the opposite direction to where he wanted to go.
‘Sure,’ said the landlord. ‘Go in and I’ll be right with you.’
‘Wonderful,’ she beamed. ‘We’ll have two cappuccinos.’
She propelled Charlie towards the sofa by the fire.
‘There,’ she said, sinking down into the sofa’s squashy depths. ‘Isn’t this nice?’
Her eyes bored into his, daring him to defy her.
‘No, not really. I’m going to be late to work.’
‘Nonsense. Just say the train was cancelled. Ten minutes won’t matter. Now then, where were we?’
Kev consulted her electronic diary.
‘Ah yes. Two weeks today. Another overnight stay here.’
‘It’s too soon,’ Charlie hissed.
‘Then when?’ said Kev, glaring at him.
‘A couple of months.’
‘But that’s eight weeks,’ she shrieked, just as the landlord appeared with their cappuccinos.
‘Here we are,’ he said, setting the coffees down on the table in front of them. ‘Enjoy.’
‘I fully intend to,’ said Kev, looking at Charlie meaningfully.
The moment the landlord was out of earshot, she swivelled round to face Charlie.
‘I’m not going without sex for two months,’ she said adamantly.
‘Can’t you use–’
‘Don’t even suggest it,’ Kev interrupted.
Charlie shrank back against the sofa. Kev was starting to look a bit wild about the eyes. He needed to try a different tack.
‘Look, angel. I really did mean it when I said we needed to cool it.’
‘And your point is?’
‘Exactly that. Now please don’t pin me down.’
‘I thought you liked being pinned down,’ she fired back.
Charlie reached for his cup. He made himself take a slow sip while his brain scrabbled like a frantic hamster. He needed to come up with something to say to Kev once and for all.
‘Please, try and see things from my point of view, darling. I have a heavy work schedule at the moment. Also, my best mate has just busted up with his girlfriend. He’s temporarily moved in with us and is really needy’ – Charlie lied – ‘and constantly wants a shoulder to sob all over. What with Willow asking twenty questions about my whereabouts plus demanding I marry her, frankly I’m exhausted. Can we just leave things for a few weeks?’ he wheedled.
Charlie gave Kev his best puppy-dog-eyes look. Her own were like two flints.
‘I’ll compromise with you,’ she snapped. ‘One month, not two.’
‘Okay,’ said Charlie wearily.
Picking up his cup, he drained it. Mentally he felt shattered. He’d dodge out of seeing Kev when the time came. At least for now he had a month’s grace. He told himself that a lot could happen in the space of four weeks.
Little did Charlie know how prophetic that thought would be.
Twenty-Seven
Charlie belted into work half an hour late. He was dismayed to see Drummond hovering by Ben’s desk.
Thankfully, Ben had switched Charlie’s monitor on. A calculator and pen sat on top of some artfully scattered papers. Ben had even placed a half-drunk cup of coffee next to everything, although Charlie reckoned the drink was likely now tepid.
Stealthily, Charlie slid his briefcase under the desk