said he did… and as soon as possible.
‘So I’ll be out of your hair long before you shake off the confetti,’ Ben had laughed.
‘Does this mean you’ll be rekindling your romance with Mystery Woman?’ Charlie had asked.
‘Maybe,’ Ben had said coyly.
Charlie had never felt happier. Sophie had gone. Kev was out of the equation. Ben would shortly be moving into his bachelor pad. Finally, Charlie’s secret stash of money remained buoyant enough to pay for Willow’s ring, a modest wedding and even a honeymoon in the Bahamas. Life was good.
For now.
Fifty-Three
Monday rolled around and, as the day got underway, Charlie was delighted that it was boring as hell. As was Tuesday and Wednesday. There was no summons to Drummond’s office asking for an explanation about a tearful pregnant girl who’d rung his private line. Nor were there any messages from Kev.
Charlie had been twitchy about Kev making a second anonymous phone call to Willow at the library. He wouldn’t have put it past her to whisper further commands that Willow dump him. Happily, the only memorable telephone call Willow had dealt with had been from an embarrassed OAP. Apparently the pensioner’s puppy had destroyed a library book about dog training.
‘I don’t think my dog liked it,’ the pensioner had laughed.
On Thursday, Ben took himself off to Cornwall telling Willow and Charlie he wanted a long weekend with his parents.
Friday was so non-eventful that Charlie could have kissed the ground.
Come Saturday, his mood had reached an all-time high. The working week was over, and he and Willow had the house all to themselves.
He’d caught her around the waist and pulled her back to bed for some impromptu sex. There had been no one to listen to them, no chocolate body paint had featured, and nothing out of the ordinary had occurred other than a text message from Charlie’s mother asking if he could pop round when convenient as she had some lightbulbs that needed replacing.
‘Shall I come with you?’ Willow asked, still languishing under the duvet.
‘No need,’ said Charlie, heading off to the bathroom.
Willow lay back against the pillows and listened to her boyfriend cleaning his teeth. She hadn’t seen Charlie’s mum, Grace, for a little while. She also knew that Grace was finding widowhood lonely. Willow debated whether she should stop lazing under the cosy cover and visit Grace too. Her conscience won and she flung back the quilt.
‘I feel so guilty,’ she called to Charlie as she pushed her feet into her slippers. ‘I’ll come with you. Give me a moment and I’ll quickly get dressed.’
‘No!’ said Charlie, reappearing in the bedroom doorway. ‘Honestly, it’s very thoughtful of you, but I… have some errands to do.’
‘That’s okay. I’ll keep you company. Perhaps we can go for coffee when you’ve finished.’
‘Actually’ – Charlie was now looking shifty – ‘the errands are… personal.’
Willow regarded her boyfriend in surprise. What could be so private that Charlie didn’t want her around? Valentine’s Day wasn’t on the horizon, her birthday had been and gone, and there were still ninety-four shopping days to Christmas. Willow was perplexed.
‘What are you up to?’ she laughed, pulling on her dressing gown.
‘Something nice,’ Charlie replied as he started to dress. ‘But it’s a surprise.’
‘What sort of surprise?’
‘I told you. A nice one.’
‘Give me a hint,’ said Willow playfully. ‘Just a teeny-tiny clue, eh?’
‘Okay,’ said Charlie, looking mighty pleased with himself as he buttoned up his shirt. ‘It involves glamming up.’
‘For what?’ said Willow, her brows knitting together.
Even when Charlie had taken her out on her birthday, it had been low-key. Her boyfriend didn’t take her to places that required proper dressing up. He never had. And likely never would.
Charlie zipped up his jeans and shrugged on a jacket. Bobbing forward, he kissed Willow on the nose.
‘I’ll be back at about seven this evening for a quick shower and change.’
‘Seven?’ said Willow in astonishment. ‘But that’s hours away. You can’t be changing lightbulbs at your mum’s all day long.’
‘I told you. I have some other things to do.’ He gave her a mischievous wink. ‘All will be revealed later. So, when I come home, I expect you to be dressed in… oooh, I know, that little black number with the side splits that go all the way up to your armpits.’
‘Okay,’ said Willow in bemusement.
She’d only worn that dress once, and that had been on a girls’ night out with Emma and Karen. She was amazed Charlie even remembered it.
After Charlie had sauntered out of the house, whistling merrily, Willow