For Sarahjane
Taxis, Charlotte decided, were just as temperamental as aeroplanes and twice as crafty. She clutched at the door handle as her driver swerved around yet another corner at breakneck speed. There were too many cars and the roads, they were far too wide. It was a sheer bloody miracle that anyone managed to get from A to B safely in this country.
Her driver (he'd told her that his name was Jimmy) hammered the heel of his palm against the centre of the steering wheel and yelled at another car as they sped past.
Charlotte twisted in her seat to mouth an apology to the other driver but they had already left him far behind. She turned back and gripped the door handle again until her knuckles turned pale.
Oh, she was out of her depth. California was sold to her as a paradise, with serene locals, clean air and quiet streets. So far, it seemed she needn't have bothered flying all the way from England because the hustle and bustle of Los Angeles was exactly like that of London.
Thankfully, someone seemed to hear her prayers and thought it best to quickly answer them, as within the next few minutes, the roads cleared and they began to steadily climb a hill. The road twisted around and around until Charlotte almost felt dizzy, the trees beginning to clear as they gained altitude.
Eventually, they reached the top of the hill and the road flattened out. There wasn't much time to take in the view but Charlotte smiled at the sight of the city laid out below her, only just beginning to wake up under the grimy, lilac softness of a California morning, before they continued on the winding road.
She settled back into her seat, now that they'd slowed down and she didn't feel like she was back on the aeroplane that had brought her there. Despite the beautiful vista, her stomach was still twisted into knots. Charlotte tried to keep her mind clear and quiet, she knew she'd feel much better when she finally arrived. Still, the anticipation was murder.
It took a little time after that for them to reach their destination but at last, the squat, yellow taxi pulled up outside the Walt Disney Studios with a squeal and a jerk. Charlotte huffed and smoothed down her hair, which had been perfectly done up when she left her hotel but now probably resembled a bird's nest. Her driver hopped out and opened the door for her.
"Walt Disney Studios," Jimmy announced, excitedly rocking back and forth on his heels. He was only young, barely older than eighteen, and proud of a job well done.
"Thank you." Charlotte fished out her purse.
With the money carefully stowed away in his pocket, Jimmy grinned, looking between his passenger and the Studios with interest. "You here on business?"
Charlotte frowned a little, finding his curiosity a little impolite. Though, she supposed, he didn't mean to be. "New job," she said at last, tucking her purse back into her handbag.
Jimmy nodded. "Me too." He patted the roof of the car fondly.
Charlotte raised her eyebrows and tried to disguise her derisive laugh as a cough. "You don't say," she said, then felt unkind, but the young man didn't seem to notice her sarcasm.
Jimmy gave her a wide, toothy grin then a cheery wave. "Well, goodbye now!" Then he slid back into the driver's seat and slammed the door shut behind him.
Charlotte heard him turn on the radio full blast before the tyres began to spin and he tore off down the road. She watched him leave, wincing as he rounded the corner without slowing down.
With a sigh, Charlotte pushed her handbag strap further up onto her shoulder and readjusted her grip on her small case. She turned, tilting her head toward the sky, trying to take it all in at once and finding she couldn't quite manage it. It certainly was a grand building. She'd never felt quite so small. Charlotte gazed at the banner-like sign that spread across the entrance to the lot and squared her shoulders.
New country, new job, new me, Charlotte thought for the umpteenth time that day. It had become her mantra and had served her well, especially as a reminder of why she was there, and that it wasn't all dizzying aeroplane rides, strange new food, and taxi drivers that wanted to kill her.
Charlotte pulled in a deep, calming breath then took a step, just trying to focus on putting one foot in front of the other. The smooth tarmac pavement soon turned to cobblestones as she walked up to the lot entrance. Charlotte wasn't sure where to go, but then she spotted a security guard sat inside a metal cubicle, a red and white striped traffic barrier next to it. She knocked politely on the glass window and it slid away so that the old, whiskery guard could poke his head out.
"Hello..." Charlotte began uncertainly. She could feel her confidence waning under the reproachful stare of the guard. "It's my first day and I'm not sure where t-"
"First building on the left," the old man squawked, jabbing a crooked thumb over to a small, square building.
Though Charlotte was slightly taken-aback by his abruptness, she thanked him when he raised the security barrier. She had to duck to get under it safely but soon she was on her way again. As she wandered onto the lot, Charlotte looked back over her shoulder just in time to see the wizened man disappear out of sight, the glass window sliding shut behind him with a blunt 'thunk'.
She turned back to look where she was going, damning her heart for still not keeping proper time. To distract herself, Charlotte watched as two men hauled a rail of brightly coloured costumes across the courtyard. Beyond them, a group of women stood smoking and chatting on their break, and nearby, a woman sat in the grass, watching a little bird hop about and quickly sketching its movements down in a huge pad.
God, she was nervous. In all her life, she'd never worked anywhere so renowned, so prestigious, so, well, famous. When Charlotte got the telephone call five days ago telling her that she had the job and they wanted her there as soon as possible, she was beside herself with joy. She simply couldn't believe it.
This place was so alien. The food, the people, the scenery, it was all so big. There was far too much to take in. Charlotte had only arrived yesterday and was immediately swept away to her hotel, which was close to the Studios. It was the cheapest accommodation she could find but she would only be staying for a short while, a month at the most. It wasn't exactly the nicest hotel in the world but it had everything she needed.
Her small suitcase bumped against the side of her leg as a little reminder that they had invited her, so she must be good enough. It carried a few art supplies and some ideas she'd already devised. Charlotte was there to draw, to paint, to bring their story to life. She was going to be a part of something huge, which was both exhilarating and terrifying, but it was too late to turn back now, she'd already reached the administration building.
Charlotte pushed open the heavy, brass-framed door and looked around uncertainly. A radio played softly somewhere behind the marble-topped desk that stretched from one end of the room to the other. There was a row of chairs on either side of the door and, apart from a single man, they were all empty.
Charlotte strode up to the desk, determined to exude an air of grace and capability, her heels clacking on the tiled floor. She reached out and gently rang the bell with the tips of her fingers. Almost instantaneously, a young woman appeared.
She gave Charlotte a toothy, white smile. "Good morning and welcome to the Walt Disney Studios! How can I be of assistance?"
Charlotte smiled back at the woman and placed her suitcase on the ground by her feet. "Good morning. I'm here to meet..." She paused, realising she didn't know who she was looking for. Charlotte frowned. "Hang on."
She dug around in her bag for the letter she had received. It contained all the details she would need about her stay, including who she would be meeting. Charlotte glanced down at the paper and quickly found what she was looking for. "Don DaGradi?"
The receptionist smiled and gestured behind her to the row of chairs. "Don, your new artist is here."
Charlotte turned to find she was addressing the singular figure sitting in the waiting room. To her surprise, he suddenly jumped from his seat as if electrocuted and bounded over to her.
"Hi, Don DaGradi, pleasure to meet ya!" The man introduced himself, holding out his hand. He appeared to be in his early fifties and wore a grey suit with a thin black tie. A pair of thick, square glasses sat on the end of his nose and he certainly seemed friendly. "You must be-"
"Charlotte Johnson-Liddle, yes, hello," she replied smoothly as she took his hand and shook it firmly.
"Hello and good morning!" Don said cheerfully, that American enthusiasm coming out in full force. "How was your flight?"
Charlotte pulled a face and gave him a wry smile. "Uneventful, thank goodness." She wouldn't mention the taxi, she wanted to make a good impression and moaning about her driver wouldn't do. "I'm not the biggest fan of flying."
"Ah, well, hopefully you'll be working with us for a while, so you won't have to fly anywhere just yet." When Charlotte smiled, Don jerked his head towards the huge doors. "C'mon, I'll show you around."
They waved a quick goodbye to the receptionist as they passed through the doors, then Charlotte followed Don as he meandered down the centre of the lot.
"It's at this point that I'm obliged to give you a little speech that comes with the tour, if you think you can stand it," he joked, his hands shoved into his jacket pockets.
Don exuded a sense of calm and informality. Charlie really had fallen through the looking glass. Every other company she'd worked for had been very prim and proper.
"No, no, I'm terribly interested!" she said quickly, and she was. Charlotte knew very little about the history of the Studios and was hungry to learn. She smiled. "Go on, give your speech."
Don laughed and clapped his hands together. "Well, then," he said, holding his arms open wide and waggling his hands grandly. "The Walt Disney Company started in 1923 in a small office in Los Angeles. It was there that Walt Disney and his brother Roy produced a series of short live-action and animated films."
Charlotte raised her eyebrows, happily surprised. "I didn't know that."
Don gave her a pointed look. "Aren't you glad you took the tour?" He adopted his hyperbolic tour guide voice again and continued the spiel. "During the next fourteen years, many changes took place at the Disney Studios. Mickey Mouse was born in 1928, followed by Pluto, Goofy, Donald and the rest of the gang." He jabbed his thumb over to a colourful poster on the wall of a building, conveniently displaying the characters he had just mentioned. "After the release of the critically acclaimed 'Snow White and the Seven Dwarves',"
He nudged her arm to stress how impressive he was being and Charlotte laughed again.
"We realised we needed to expand. So, with the profits from 'Snow White', Walt began designing a studio built specifically for making animated films." He gestured to a building on their right. "Over here we have the Animation Building, where the animators and the artists work. Across the street here, we have Inking and Painting, and the Camera buildings, where the artwork is completed and photographed."
The buildings were all sleek and new, but they stood proudly in a way that usually only came with buildings that were much, much older. It was as if they knew how important they were.
"Next to Camera, in the Cutting building, the postproduction process happens." DaGradi span around so he was walking backwards and pointed down at the ground. "Here's a little tidbit, a lot of the buildings are linked together by an underground tunnel, so even in bad weather, the process isn't disrupted."
Charlotte was impressed, this place really was as exciting as people said.
"And here we are, the main building."
Charlotte looked back at the lot they had walked down, shaking her head in disbelief. "Incredible," she breathed, taking everything in with wide eyes. "It's absolutely marvellous." She looked back at Don and he asked her to follow him inside.
Soon, they were in yet another office area. This one was much more homely than the first. A short, pretty secretary sat behind the desk, talking animatedly on the telephone, but she put it down when she saw them enter.
"Hiya, Dolly," Don greeted her.
She smiled sweetly and stood from her seat. "Hi, Don." Her curious gaze turned to Charlotte.
Don stepped aside and introduced her with a grand gesture. "This is Charlotte Johnson-Liddle. She's our new concept artist. Gonna help the boys and I put their music to pictures."
Charlotte smiled at Dolly as they shook hands.
"Charlotte, it's so nice to meet ya." Dolly greeted her just as enthusiastically as Don had. "Can I get you anything? Tea? Coffee?"
"No, thank you. I'm fine."
Dolly grinned, leaning her elbows on the desk and propping up her chin on her palm. "So, where are you from?"
Charlotte was about to answer when Don pointedly cleared his throat.
"Dolly, if you could tell Walt we're here," he asked gently, raising his eyebrows at her.
His words knocked Charlie's feet out from under her. She didn't think she'd be meeting the man himself.
Dolly straightened up. "Right, gotcha," she said, tutting at herself for getting distracted. She smiled at them again before tottering off to fetch their boss.
Don chuckled before remembering something important. "Oh, before you meet him, just gotta tell ya, the guy hates being called Mr. Disney."
Charlotte frowned, confused. "So what should I call him?"
"Well, Walt," Don said, as if it were obvious. Her complete look of shock surprised him.
Charlotte stared at him, her eyes wide, her mouth hanging open. "I couldn't possibly-"
A loud cough interrupted her and then a man suddenly came striding into the room, followed closely by Dolly.
"You must be Charlotte," he boomed as he met her and Don in the centre of the room.
Charlotte gazed up at Disney in wonder. "Yes," she managed after a stunned pause. She took his offered hand and tried to keep her feet on the ground as he vigorously shook it. "It's terribly nice to meet you." Charlotte glanced quickly at Don before adding, "Walt."
"It's nice to meet you too, Charlotte," Walt said warmly, and she truly felt like he meant it.
She'd always admired him. Charlotte had loved art since she was a young girl and Disney's films were kindling for the fires of her imagination. He had inspired her, as she was sure he had inspired many other children. Now, here he was, shaking her hand and beaming away like Father Christmas.
"It's always a pleasure to meet the people who're going to be working with me."
Charlotte began to smile too, not knowing quite where to look. "Well, it's an honour to be here," she replied meekly.
Walt looked to Don and clapped his hands together. "It's her first day, Don, what're you gonna show her?"
"Well, we've finished the tour, so now I guess I'll take you to your office and then you can meet the boys."
When Charlotte nodded, Walt smiled and patted Don on the shoulder. "Say 'hi' to them for me," he said, then he looked back at Charlotte. "I'll see you real soon." Walt shook her hand, smiled brightly at her once more, then walked back to his office.
Don noticed the awestruck look on Charlotte's face and chuckled. "Don't worry," he said. "He has that effect on everybody."
Charlotte kept up with Don's fast pace as they walked through the bright, homely corridors. The walls were lined with photographs of Disney and his employees, artwork from past productions, and awards and certificates, framed with pride. Charlotte just about managed to take them all in before Don stopped outside a redwood door.
"Just through here," he said, gesturing for her to open it.
Charlotte tried to rein in her excitement as she turned the handle and pushed open the door. Once she saw what was inside, the reins slipped from her grasp completely. Charlotte walked forward into the little room with wide eyes.
"This is where you'll be working," said Don as he followed her inside.
"Oh, wow!" Charlotte turned in circles, trying to take in everything at once.
The room was small but not cramped. There was enough room for a wide desk and a comfortable chair with space left over to walk around them easily. There were a variety of supplies at her disposal, they lined the shelves: pencils, pens, pastels, charcoals, paints, watercolours, glue, scissors, and paper, in all kinds of shapes, sizes, and colours.
Along the far wall, a wide window stretched from one end of the room to the other. Charlie could see the quiet road in the distance and right outside was a small grassy area with an array of bright flowers and a lithe, young tree. Sunlight spilled into the room, lighting up the pots and jars on the shelves so that they cast different colours across the room. One wall was almost entirely made up of a large corkboard where she could pin her artwork.
"What do you think?"
"It's perfect." Charlotte turned back to her guide, so happy she thought she might burst.
Don laughed and opened the door again. "I'm glad you like it. Now, if you think you can drag yourself away, I'll introduce you to the Shermans."
Charlotte was reluctant to leave the room but she was eager to meet the famed brothers. She followed Don back out into the corridor, gently closing the door behind her, but not before taking one last look at what was now all hers.
They went left as if they were heading back to see Dolly but turned another corner before they reached the reception. Charlotte's ears pricked when she thought she heard chirpy piano music flowing through the corridors. She glanced at Don and he gave her a bright grin.
They followed the music until they eventually arrived at a door and Don stopped, gesturing for her to enter first. Charlotte pushed open the door, the music suddenly growing louder as she did so and stopping altogether when they entered.
The room was large but quite bare, its few commodities being a scattering of chairs, a long table and a piano, behind which were two men. Charlotte hovered nervously by the door, glancing at Don when the strangers looked up at her curiously.
"Bob! Dick! Come say hello." Don waved them over, giving Charlotte a reassuring smile. "I'd like you to meet Charlotte, our new concept artist."
The Sherman brothers smiled warmly, which helped to put her anxieties at ease.
"Charlotte, you'll be working very closely with these two. Bob and Dick Sherman, music and lyrics."
Bob smiled, offering his hand. "Nice to meet you."
He seemed to be the older of the two and though they both appeared pleased to meet her, Bob's expression was more reserved than his brother's. That wasn't to say he seemed standoffish, he was just much more laid back than the other people Charlotte had been introduced to that day. As she shook his hand, she noted his bright, clever eyes and the walking stick he leaned on, gripped tight in his free hand.
Charlotte returned his smile. "I've heard a lot about you. You've done some incredible work."
Bob chuckled and turned to Don. "I like her, she can stay."
"You're from England?" asked his brother, Dick.
Charlotte found herself smiling the moment she met his gaze. She wasn't sure what it was, perhaps the genuine eagerness with which he spoke, or his somewhat crooked, charming grin, but before she knew it, her heart had stumbled and she was smiling like an idiot.
"London, yes." She nodded as she shook Dick's hand too, hoping he wouldn't notice the slight waver in her voice.
"Just like our author," noted Bob with an excited glance at his brother.
It appeared they were just as eager to meet the woman of the hour as she was. Charlotte was glad, it really made a difference when people were excited about their work.
"Yes, I was wondering when I might speak with Mrs. Travers," she said, turning to Don.
He shook his head, apologising. "She'll be here in a few days. Until then, you've got some time to work with the boys."
He gestured to an empty desk where she could set down her things and Charlotte happily obliged.
"Right then." She rested her small case on the desk, glancing over her shoulder at the men. "How far have you got with music?" As she spoke, she flicked open the buckles of her case and began to lay its contents out on the table; just a few sheets of paper and some pencils, nothing fancy, but enough to get her started.
"Pretty far, actually." Dick hurried back over to the piano, reaching right over the top so that he could grab a handful of sheet music. He thrust his hand into the air, waving the music about. "We've got a strong idea for most of the songs already."
"Oh, brilliant!"
"Some we've developed further than others. It's mostly chronological so it's easier for you to work with."
"That's good to know," Charlotte said, taking a seat on top of the desk and getting herself comfortable. She looked at each man in turn with raised eyebrows. "Shall we begin?"
"Sure!" Don patted Bob's shoulder, sending him on his way back to the piano.
"We thought we could play you a few of the songs, you can tell us what you think," Bob explained once he was stood next his brother.
Dick sat down on the stool. Charlotte couldn't help but smile when she saw that only the top his head appeared over the top of the piano.
Dick drummed his fingertips against the keys, warming up. "Then we can look over the script and you can draw up a few ideas."
He grinned eagerly and Charlotte felt her worried heart begin to slow. She was still incredibly nervous, she'd never been in such prestigious company before, but just knowing that the people she was going to be working with were so lovely helped to ease her anxieties a little. "Sounds good to me."
Dick shuffled the papers so that the right music was in front. When he was done, he looked expectantly up at Don, who pushed himself away from the wall he'd been leaning against and grabbed a script from the top of the piano.
"I'll be Bert," he told Charlotte as he found his first line.
She began to laugh at his grand tone but settled down when he spoke again.
"All right, ladies and gents!" he called to Charlotte and an imaginary crowd in a bad Cockney accent. "Comical poems suitable for the occasion, extemporised and thought up before your very eyes. Alright, here we go!" He pointed to Dick, who began to sing.
"Room here for everyone, gather around! The constable's responstable, now how does that sound?" He pounded the keys with gusto, smiling away as he acted it out with all his heart.
As he sang, he seemed almost unable to contain himself with glee. Bob occasionally joined in, singing for a word or two, but he was much more reserved as he watched Charlotte for her reaction.
"Ah, Mrs. Cory a story for you. Your daughters were shorter than you, but they grew!"
Charlotte laughed, much to the Shermans' surprise and delight. Even after all their years writing songs, showing their work to new people never got any less intimidating.
The music slowed down considerably and Dick began to play a little more gently now.
"This is where Bert stops and looks around. He senses what's coming," said Don, stepping forward to explain.
"Or rather, who's coming," added Bob.
Charlotte's skin prickled. What had once been cheery, marching band music was now delicate and almost eerie. These boys were good.
"Winds in the east, mist coming in. Like something is brewing, about to begin," sang Dick, a little lower and quieter than before. "Can't put my finger on what lies in store, but I feel what's to happen all happened before."
Charlotte waited until he had played the last lilting notes of the tune before applauding. "That was wonderful!" she cried, grinning from ear to ear.
The three men blew a collective sigh of relief. Charlotte was the first person outside of the three of them to hear their songs. They hadn't even played them to Walt yet. It was a huge weight off their shoulders to know that they sounded just as good to others as they did to them.
"You liked it?" Bob asked.
Charlotte shook her head in disbelief. "It was perfect, just how I imagined it would be."
Dick gave her a small smile when he realised what that meant. "You've read the books."
Charlie held his gaze for a moment and began to smile back. Then she cleared her throat awkwardly and looked away again, feeling her face start to heat up. "Of course, I have. It's hard to find a person who hasn't," she said, waving his comment off.
To distract herself, she grabbed her pad of paper and began to sketch. "So, Don..."
"Mm?" He jumped up from his seat, moving towards the desk where she sat.
"When I read your script, I really liked the idea of having the first scene out on the road."
A copy of the script had been sent to Charlotte's house soon after she agreed to join them so that she had a headstart on the artwork. She'd been sworn to secrecy, she wasn't even allowed to show the newly pressed script to her own mother. Charlotte had devoured the story in one sitting, so enamoured with the narrative that she read it again and again and again until she almost knew it by heart.
She continued to draw, her brow creasing with concentration whilst the brothers peered over from their place by the piano, not wanting to be caught trying to sneak a peek.
"I was thinking it could look a little something..." Charlotte finished the drawing and held it up for them to see. "Like this."
The men stepped closer to see what she had produced. It had only taken her a couple of seconds, so her sketch was quite crude, but they could clearly see the beginnings of their film in scratchy pencil markings.
"Yes, I see it," Bob murmured, his eyes roaming over the page.
Charlotte looked down at her drawing and began to explain the more important details. "This is the park here and the lovely, little houses." She drew her finger to the centre of the page where a happy looking figure wearing a one-man-band suit was surrounded by a gaggle of less detailed figures. "Then here's Bert and his crowd." She looked up, biting her lip nervously. "What do you think?"
"It looks good," Don told her, smiling brightly. He knew from the moment they met that he liked Charlotte, but now he knew she'd be perfect for the job too.
She went a little red at the looks on their faces, trying not to show just how stupidly pleased she was to impress them.
Charlotte jumped down from the table, smoothing down her dress with one hand and keeping her sketch aloft in the other. "It will look even better when I'm done with it." It needed something else, something more.
She studied the drawing a little longer before she realised the three men were still standing in front of her table with interest. Charlotte smiled. "You can keep going, I'm going to work on this some more."
They instantly relaxed. Don went to sit in a chair by the piano and drew out his script again, making notes here and there whilst the boys moved on to the next song. Charlotte watched them for a moment, just taking in her new surroundings, then smiled to herself and sat down at the desk.
Time ticked on peacefully. As she drew away to her heart's content, Charlotte considered just how happy she felt at that moment. With music playing in the background and the bright sunlight streaming in through the window, it was a beautiful place to be.
She let out a contented sigh and tapped the end of her pencil against her lips as she studied her drawing. It was still missing something. Charlotte thought about going back to her office to grab more supplies and was just getting out of her chair when a voice stopped her.
"Do you want something to drink?"
She looked up to find Dick standing in front of the desk, his gaze drifting between her and her drawing as if he couldn't help himself.
"Or something to eat?"
Charlotte smiled at him gratefully. "I'd love a cup of tea."
Dick grinned. "I'll be right back," he promised before hurrying out of the door.
Charlotte was surprised. He'd stopped in the middle of a rehearsal to get her a drink she easily could've got for herself. A few minutes later, Dick was back with her tea. She realised he'd gone all the way to the reception to get it.
"There you are," he said as he carefully passed her the mug.
Charlotte hummed happily as his kind gesture warmed her hands. "Thank you," she murmured, taking a sip. She hadn't realised how thirsty she was. People had been offering her food and drink left, right and centre ever since she stepped off the plane and this was the first time she'd accepted the offer.
She smiled up at him appreciatively. "It's Richard, yes?"
He shrugged. "Well, everyone usually calls me Dick," he said, then quickly, "But Richard's fine, I don't mind."
Charlotte gave a huff of laughter and looked down at her tea again.
Dick slowly stepped from foot to foot, his hands folded behind his back. For some reason, he felt strangely shy. He usually found it very easy to talk to people but something about this woman made everything he wanted to say sound incredibly awkward. Charlotte seemed perfectly nice and had been nothing but kind to them since she stepped through the door.
And she was, although he certainly hadn't put much thought into it, very pretty. Her hazel eyes were intelligent and warm, and they lit up when she smiled. She was still and poised, rarely did she fidget apart from when she tucked her curly, brown hair behind her ear. He liked the sound of her voice, soft but edged with a humour that tugged at the corner of her deep, red lips.
"Mm, lovely thank you," Charlotte breathed after she'd taken another sip of her tea. She stood from the desk and began to walk towards the door, mug in hand. "I'm just popping to my office." Charlotte gave him a little wave before walking to the door.
Dick watched her leave, floundering a little before he finally found the words. "D- Do you prefer Charlotte or Charlie?" he asked suddenly, returning the courtesy as an excuse to keep talking to her.
Charlotte paused in the doorway and looked back at him thoughtfully. "I've never been given the choice before," she realised, making Dick smile. She looked at him for a moment, tilting her head to one side, and those eyes seemed to see straight through him. "Charlie," she decided at last, giving him a bright smile. "Charlie will do fine." Then she was gone.
"Okay. Good," Dick said to himself, returning the smile even if she couldn't see it. "Charlie," he murmured as he went back to the piano.