Knocking on Charlie's office door was difficult for two reasons. The first was that Dick was incredibly nervous. After yesterday, he wasn't sure where they stood. He promised they would forget about the kiss, but how could he? Charlie was on his mind around the clock but now it was so much worse. Dick could still feel her in his arms, feel the force behind her kiss. He had never felt anything like it and it was very possible that he never would again. That was, of course, until he kissed her again. He had no plans to- no more than he usually did- but surely it was impossible to kiss someone like that and then disregard one's feelings? At least he hoped it was. Dick still didn't know why Charlie was leaving, not really. That was another thing he desperately wanted to ask her but he felt like he couldn't. Dick didn't want to upset her, the odds were that Charlie's departure was going to hurt her more than it was going to hurt him, but still, he needed to know.
The second reason why it was difficult to knock on Charlie's door was a lot less complex than the first. He had a glass bottle of Coca-Cola in each hand and he didn't want to spill any. After a few minutes of fumbling, Dick managed to tuck one bottle under his arm and tapped on the door.
"Come in." He heard her faint call and did as he was told. Charlie looked up as the door opened, her face lighting up when she saw him. "Richard!" She said brightly, giving him a wide grin. Dick smiled back and shut the door behind him. Charlie was dressed differently today. Instead of her usual dress, she wore a silk shirt tucked into a blue houndstooth skirt. She looked beautiful as always, exacerbating his nerves. Charlie soon turned back to her drawing. Apparently, she still felt she was falling behind, even though she had plenty of time and no one was putting pressure on her to finish. He supposed Charlie knew that too and he also supposed that she didn't care.
"Here, I brought you something." Dick proudly placed what he'd snaffled on her desk. He saw Charlie smile gratefully but she didn't look up, her clever eyes trained on her drawing. Dick used the opportunity to take a look around her office. He'd dropped by a few times but he'd never had a proper snoop. Whilst Charlie was distracted, he peered at a long shelf of coloured jars, all of which held numerous paintbrushes and pens and charcoals. Then he moved onto an enormous corkboard that took up almost a whole wall. Pinned to it were thousands of drawings in an array of colours. Most were drafts of the final sketches he'd seen her pass on to the animators and set designers, but some weren't related to 'Mary Poppins' at all. He spotted a bright red flower with curling leaves in one corner of the board, then the view from her window in another. Next to a wonderful rough sketch of the Banks house was an oak tree drawn in minute detail. "Sure is stuffy in here. You should open a window," he said, trying to engage her in conversation and distract her from her work, if only for a moment.
"Yes, I keep forgetting to," came Charlie's murmured reply, her eyes still fixed on the pencil drawing in front of her. Dick smiled fondly when he saw that her nose was just inches away from the paper. No wonder she always ended up with smudges all over her face and hands. He shook his head and walked over to the window. He looked out at the view for a moment before he asked,
"Mind if I..?" Charlie finally looked up to see what he was referring to and nodded.
"Go ahead," she said, smiling gratefully at him. Dick eagerly opened the window, desperate to get some fresh air into the room. It was a miracle she hadn't passed out in there. It was so hot, he thought he might bake inside his clothes. Immediately, a rush of cool air swept through the open window, fluttering the pieces of paper that engulfed her office. A few slid off the counters but Charlie didn't seem to mind, so long as the piece she was working on didn't go missing. Out in the distance, Dick could see the road stretching off, growing fainter and fainter, the road that could take them back to the hillside where they'd run away together. He wondered if Charlie still thought about that day, if she treasured it as much as he did. Probably not, but he could hope. "Oh, I've been meaning to try one of these." Dick turned around at Charlie's gasp and was surprised to see it was his gift that she was so excited about.
"You've never had a Coke before?" She clutched the glass bottle with both hands as if it were a priceless artefact.
"My mother never let me. Her xenophobia is quite startling." She turned the drink over in her hands, studying it intently. Dick let out a laugh as he heaved himself up onto the windowsill, his legs swinging once he got himself comfortable. Charlie twisted her lips deviously. "But I suppose, while I'm here, she can't possibly know that I've tried one." She looked across at Dick and he sent her a supportive nod, more than happy to be involved in her little act of rebellion. "What does it taste like?" Charlie smiled when his brow creased and he wrinkled his nose adorably.
"I don't know. It doesn't taste like anything else, it's got its own flavour." He nodded encouragingly. "Try it." Charlie held his gaze for a moment, her mouth all skewed with an uncertain smile, but then she raised the bottle to her lips and took a long, bold swig. Dick suddenly realised he probably should've warned her about the bubbles but it was too late. Charlie's hand flew to her mouth, her eyes wide. Then she let out a loud laugh.
"Oh, my gosh!" She gushed, feeling the fizzy drink whoosh through her, most of the bubbles ending up in her nose. "That's fantastic!" Dick chuckled at her excitement.
"You see?"
"I've never had anything like this before." She stared at the bottle again before taking another sip. The ice cold drink cooled her instantly and she found she was quite short of breath. "How marvellous," she murmured, feeling the bubbles boil in her stomach.
"Welcome to a whole new world, rebellious Charlotte," Dick said, reaching over and clinking his bottle against hers.
"Cheers," she said in return, then she turned back to her drawing. Dick watched her for a moment. He liked the way she moved, how her eyes darted over the paper in front of her and the way she smiled to herself. But then a thought struck him, something he didn't want to ask but felt he had to. "Charlie?"
"Hm?" Came her distracted reply. Dick pressed his lips together nervously before he finally found the courage to ask,
"Why do you have to leave?" Charlie sighed and dropped her pencil.
"Richard..." She began exasperatedly, turning in her chair to look at him. His head was bowed, his gaze focused on the bottle in his hands which he toyed with anxiously. Charlie really didn't want to have this conversation, they promised they wouldn't, but Dick wouldn't let her leave without an explanation. If he was going to lose her, he wanted to know why.
"Please, Charlotte." He finally looked up at her again. Charlie felt her heart thud against her ribcage. She wasn't sure why but whenever he used her full name, she had to fight to remember to breathe. Perhaps it was because it happened so rarely, usually only when he was being serious. Either way, she liked it, even if it usually came with bad tidings. Dick wouldn't stop looking at her with those big sad eyes. She sighed again, raising a hand and running it through her hair.
"Well, aside from contractual reasons..." Charlie began but then her tongue turned to lead and she found it hard to continue. She hadn't told Dick about her mother. She didn't want to, she never thought she would have to. Dick frowned when she remained silent, her eyes glued to the floor by his feet.
"What is it?" He asked quietly. Perhaps he shouldn't have asked. In his sadness, he hadn't stopped to realise that if Charlie had to go, there was definitely a good reason for it. Now her expression was blank, her jaw set. He'd never seen her look that way before. Her gaze slowly rose to meet his but he could tell she wasn't really looking at him.
"My mother," Charlie said quietly, a strange edge to her voice. "She's very ill." A hundred curses swarmed in Dick's mind, though fortunately, he was quick enough to stop any of them flying out of his mouth. She watched his determined expression melt into surprise then guilt.
"Oh, God, Charlie." He slid off the windowsill to stand beside her. He should've listened to his own advice, he shouldn't have asked. Charlie was his best friend and he was the reason she looked so sad. "I'm so sorry." She shook her head, looking away again.
"No, don't be."
"I shouldn't have pushed-"
"Richard, it's alright," she interrupted firmly. Dick's mouth shut with a snap that made her smile ever so slightly. Charlie leaned her elbow on the desk, propping her head up against her open palm. "It's just... She's not got long left, you see." Dick let out a sigh as he crouched down beside her, placing one hand flat on her desk to keeping himself steady. Charlie twisted her mouth, her eyes slowly travelling over the back of his hand as she spoke. "She's happy and, you know, she's still my mother." Charlie's eyes still didn't meet his, her mouth turning down at the corners. "But sometimes..." Dick watched sadly as she sighed and rubbed her eyes. "Sometimes she forgets things..." Her voice cracked and she gritted her teeth. "It's hard to lose your father and your mother. After she goes, I suppose I'll be all alone." Alright, that was enough for now. Charlie could feel her face starting to grow hot and she knew she would start to cry if she didn't change the subject. So she picked up her pencil and continued with her drawing. Dick watched her add minute detail to a spectacular rendition of the London skyline, mulling over her words in his head.
"I'll never let that happen," he told her after a moment, his voice soft but edged with a determination that made Charlie look up again. They locked eyes and neither said anything for the longest time before she eventually smiled.
"Shouldn't you be working?" Charlie teased softly. Dick grinned, snapping back to his carefree, charming self again in an instant.
"We're taking a break," he defended himself as he walked to the door. Charlie raised an eyebrow, glad that they could still joke and laugh despite the severity of their conversation and the awkwardness of yesterday.
"So you've come to annoy me?" Dick wheeled around and gasped dramatically.
"Oh, you wound me, Miss. Charlotte," he wailed, his hand flying to his chest with such theatricality, Charlie snorted with laughter. Pleased that he'd managed to cheer her up, Dick pulled open the door and nodded out into the hallway with an enticing smirk. "Hey, wanna take a walk?" Charlie wondered if she would ever be able to resist that look as she put down her pencil and grabbed her cardigan.
"I'd love to," she replied, smiling sweetly at him as he opened the door for her fully. It was a shame to be stuck inside all day when the sun was shining so beautifully, and it was far too hot to be cooped up in a small office like Charlie's. Dick also needed to talk to her, and after the tension that had developed between them, he thought it would be a good idea to do it out in the fresh air. They walked side by side out onto the lot then took a left so that they headed towards the garden-like area outside of Charlie's office. As they drew closer to the little patch of green, Dick cleared his throat, earning her attention.
"Now, gorgeous, you're leaving in a few weeks," he began, pleased at the colour that rose in her cheeks when she heard his term of endearment. He wasn't sure whether she'd like little nicknames like that but apparently she did, much to his surprise and delight. "And that's okay because you need to go," he added, trying to reassure her that he fully supported her plan. "But I've been thinking..."
"Uh oh," Charlie grumbled, then laughed when Dick lightly elbowed her ribs.
"What's the point of being sad about it?" Dick said as they reached the little green alcove, which was also home to a tall, lithe tree. "We should be happy now because we're going to be sad later. You see what I'm saying?" Charlie hummed thoughtfully as she turned around and leaned her back against the tree, grateful for the shade it provided.
"You're saying we should try and be happy while we can?" She guessed, trying to put his mixed up sentence into straightforward terms. Dick grinned back at her.
"See, what would I do without ya?" He sat down on the grass and crossed his legs, looking up at her expectantly. "Okay, so the plan, Charlotte Johnson-Liddle, is that we are not going to forget about your impending embarkation from this beautiful, incredible, joyous place with its vibrant and loving people-"
"Richard," she warned him playfully as she sat down beside him on the grass. Dick apologised, though he didn't look sorry in the slightest.
"We're not going to forget about it," he continued. "But we're not going to let it ruin things."
"What things?" Dick had meant their relationship, platonic or otherwise, but he didn't think that would be appropriate, so he shrugged instead.
"The rest of your time here, the memories you've made, the people you've come to adore..." He nudged her shoulder with his and she swatted him away, laughing at his antics. "Sound like a plan?" Charlie was just thrilled that they could get over the kissing incident and get along just as well as they always did.
"I think it's an excellent idea," she told him sincerely, looking up at him with that half-smile that could make a man forget his own name.
"Good, so do I." His gaze flicked down to her lips, just for a second, before he turned his head to look out at the small square view they had. "You look beautiful today, by the way," Dick told her after a moment. Now he was really pushing his luck. Charlie smirked and mirrored his position, leaning back on her hands and looking out at the people that passed them by.
"I'm aware," she replied coolly, just as she always did with his compliments. Dick chuckled a little.
"Aware that you're beautiful? Or aware that I think you're beautiful?"
"Both," she shot back. "You do tell me at least once a day." Dick chuckled.
"Maybe I love telling you how beautiful you are just as much as I love seeing it." Charlie shook her head, not feeling brave enough to look him in the eye.
"It's things like that that'll make it hard to leave, Mr. Sherman," she told him, not really meaning to sound as sad as she did. Dick nodded once firmly.
"Good. I'll keep doing it then." He turned his head to look at her and she did the same, a scolding look on her face. But then Charlie couldn't hold back any longer and she let out a loud laugh.
"Thank you, all the same." Dick let out a long contented sigh as the sun warmed his skin. Again, his thoughts turned to the time they ditched their work for that hill outside of the city, just the two of them and the view. That had been one of the happiest days of his life, made all the sweeter by the fact that almost a month had passed since then, and they were still by each other's sides with nothing but the other on their minds. They sat there for a little less than twenty minutes before they realised they didn't have that much time left. That was when Dick had an idea.
"Wanna get an ice cream before we go back?" Charlie was just opening her mouth to agree when Dick raised his eyebrows. "You have tried ice cream, haven't you?" She rolled her eyes. He was never going to let it go, was he? Charlie got up and brushed herself off, then reached out a hand to him.
"Come on," she grumbled, helping him to his feet when he accepted her offered hand. Dick led her over to a little food stand further into the lot, a place she hadn't yet explored. There were quite a few people milling about, all on their lunch break. They waved to the people they recognised on their way to get their food. With ice creams in hand, they walked side by side back towards their respective workrooms. As they neared the main block, Dick found he simply couldn't hold back any longer. What happened had turned his whole world upside down, he couldn't just let it be forgotten.
"And, hey, listen, about yesterday..." Dick began awkwardly. Charlie looked round at him, mid-lick of her ice cream, and pulled a face.
"You mean the..." She trailed off, not wanting to actually put it into words for fear of turning bright red again.
"Yeah, um..." Dick stopped just before they went up the steps, surprising Charlie with his sudden sobriety. She stood in front of him, perhaps a little closer than she should have, what with recent events and how easily charmed she was by him. "I know we said we'd forget about it, but I've been thinking and-" Dick couldn't quite meet her eyes, all his courage had left as fast as it appeared. "I thought it... I mean, you're... You should know that..."
"What is it?" Charlie stepped ever so slightly closer, her eyebrows knitting together with concern. Dick wanted to tell her, he needed to tell her. If she left without knowing how he felt, he didn't know what he would do. All Dick could think about was Charlie and how she was standing so close to him, he could reach out and kiss her again. Any thoughts of the repercussions his words might have on her decision to leave had dissipated. With his heart in his mouth, Dick held her gaze.
"Charlie, I-"
"Dick!" The musician looked up at the sound of his name being shouted. Over Charlie's head, at the top of the steps they were about to climb, stood Don. His eyes were wide behind his glasses and his hands were raised above his head.
"Don?" Dick frowned up at his friend, wondering why he'd felt the need to holler at him for the whole lot to hear. Charlie turned around just as Don began to run down the steps to meet them.
"Hey, Dick. Hey, Charlie," he greeted them both rapidly, leaving no space for them to reply. "You guys got ice cream? That's great! Can I talk to you for a sec?" That was directed at Dick in particular, who didn't have time to give his answer before Don grabbed his arm and pulled him down the lot. Charlie frowned at the pair of them, still blissfully unaware of what Dick had been about to tell her and confused by Don dragging him off so quickly.
"Bye," she called lamely, before turning and walking back indoors.
Don had Dick's arm in a vicelike grip as he guided him across the lot and away from Charlie. He finally stopped, after many protestations from Dick and a few curious looks from their co-workers, and brought him to a gap between two buildings. Don dropped his arm and Dick rubbed the spot where he'd pulled him roughly.
"What are you doing?" He hissed once he made sure they were out of earshot from Charlie and anyone else who happened to be walking by. Dick stopped trying to get the circulation going again in his arm to stare at him.
"What am I doing?" Don had just interrupted their conversation, dragged him across a crowded studio lot, cornered him in an alleyway, and he was the one getting yelled at?
"You were gonna tell her," said Don furiously. Dick's mouth fell open but he couldn't argue against his accusation.
"No! Well, maybe. I don't know," he mumbled, returning his attention to his most likely bruised arm. "I wasn't sure but I was definitely getting somewhere."
"For God's sake, Dick!" Don gave a frustrated cry and hit his shoulder, not hard, but enough to surprise him.
"Woah, hey!" Dick cried when he almost dropped the ice cream he had somehow managed to cling onto.
"What were you thinking?"
"You almost made me drop my ice cream cone!"
"You can't tell her!"
"It's from that nice place. It cost, like, two dollars."
"Dick Sherman!" Dick glanced sideways and saw a few people turn their heads as they went past. Don's hiding place wasn't as secret as he'd hoped and if he shouted any louder, someone would probably call security. Although, no one wanted to interrupt grumpy, old Doug's lunch break, so he had that in his favour.
"C'mon, would it really be so bad if I told her?" Dick protested, taking a cavalier lick of his ice cream as he did so. Don nodded his head desperately.
"It would be very bad!" The pitch of his voice rose in exasperation. "She's leaving and telling her would stop her." Dick raised his eyebrows.
"You think?" Don tilted his head to one side, clearly very irritated, and Dick sighed. "I know, I know, I shouldn't but..." He wiped a hand over his face, then smoothed it back over his hair as he always did when he was nervous. "If she leaves without knowing and I never see her again..." He stopped, not wanting to think about how that would feel. The sympathetic look on Don's face let him know he understood where he was coming from, which helped a little. Oh, thank God for Don DaGradi. He'd saved him. If he told Charlie, she might not leave, and if she did leave, it would feel even worse. He couldn't do that to her. Dick sighed again and leaned back against the wall behind him, all the fight and confidence leaving him. "Her mom's sick. That's why she's going home." Don looked shocked, then his expression melted into worry. He reached out and gripped Dick's shoulder.
"Then she needs a friend," he told him firmly. Dick nodded, his eyes glued to the ground.
"Gotcha," he murmured. Whatever it was that had been building between him and Charlie would be gone in one fell swoop. It felt like all the future they might've had together had been stolen from them, but Don was right. Charlie needed a friend, not someone to confess their undying admiration just as she was leaving the country. He'd just have to suck it up and deal with it. Don saw that Dick agreed with him, whether he liked it or not, so he patted his shoulder and stepped back.
"C'mon,Mrs. T will be back soon and we've still got to figure out a way to explain 'Love to Laugh'." Dick allowed himself a laugh at that, already starting to feel better. Charlie needed his support, to make this easier for her, and that was what he was going to do.
Charlie herself, as of that moment, was walking down the corridor to her office. Still licking her ice cream, she opened her door and almost jumped out of her skin.
"Mrs. Travers!" She cried, her free hand flying to her heart. The author was sitting at her desk, a book in her hands. She slowly turned her sharp gaze to Charlie, her eyes slightly obscured by her horn-rimmed glasses. Charlie let out a long, shaky breath. "You frightened the life out of me." Mrs. Travers didn't seem that interested.
"Your office is messier than when I last visited." She turned back to the book in her hands. Charlie opened and closed her mouth a few times, not sure how to respond to such an abrupt comment.
"I've been absent for a few days and in my rush to keep up, things have gotten a little chaotic." She took off her cardigan and hung it up on the back of the door then took a tentative step forward, not really sure what to do with herself. "Can I help you, Mrs. Travers?" She asked eventually. Mrs. Travers sighed and closed the book she was reading with a snap.
"I shouldn't think so," she said wearily, turning her gaze to look out of the window. She was quiet for a moment and again, Charlie wasn't sure what to do. So she stood silently, just wringing her hands, waiting for the author to speak again. When Mrs. Travers did finally begin to talk, it was in a very different tone. She no longer sounded wistful and quiet, but much more like her usual business-like self. "I just wanted to wish you well on your voyage home." She got up from her seat and straightened out her clothes. Charlie looked down at her feet, chewing the inside of cheek nervously.
"News travels fast," she said quietly. Then she looked up again, forcing a smile. "But I'm not going for a while yet." Mrs. Travers sniffed and looked over her shoulder to the window again, through which they could see the old tree that Charlie and Dick had sat under not five minutes ago. Perhaps she had seen them together.
"I wish I was going with you," Mrs. Travers murmured, her lips drawn into a thin line. Charlie offered a sympathetic smile
"It's not all bad here," she carefully tried to defend the world she had come to love. She nodded towards the window. "Look at that sunshine. You don't get many days like this in England." Mrs. Travers hummed thoughtfully.
"It was always sunny where I grew up," she murmured. Although Charlie couldn't see her face, she could sense a peacefulness had fallen over the author at the memory of her home. She frowned, she'd assumed that Mrs. Travers had grown up in London like herself.
"Where was that?" Mrs. Travers was obviously far more itinerant than she had previously thought possible for such an impatient woman. The author's glazed expression disappeared and she cleared her throat.
"I best be off." Charlie decided her question must've been too forward. "Your friends have got something new to show me," Mrs. Travers muttered as she made her way to the door, her tone heavy with disdain. Charlie smiled at the way the author's lip curled at the mention of Don and the Shermans' attempts to impress her.
"I hope you enjoy it," she said, taking up the seat Mrs. Travers had just vacated. The author sniffed and threw open the door.
"As do I," she replied before bustling away down the corridor without a backwards glance. Charlie chuckled to herself, shaking her head at Mrs. Travers' cantankerous ways. She noticed the book she'd been reading was still lying on her desk. With a frown, she reached for the small novel and carefully turned it over in her hands. Charlie was shocked to find it was her mother's copy of 'Mary Poppins'. What could Mrs. Travers possibly want with the battered, old book? Before she could think about it further, there was a light tap at her door. Charlie looked up to find Dolly standing in the doorway with her usual cheery smile in place.
"Hey!" Charlie still felt a little unsettled by the knowledge that Mrs. Travers knew about the book. She'd planned to keep it hidden in her office until she felt brave enough to approach the author and ask her to sign it, but so far, such a time had not arisen. She smiled back at Walt's secretary.
"How typical," Charlie carefully placed the book back down on her desk and pushed it away from her. "I'm always alone in here, just waiting for someone to knock on that door, and in one day, I get three visitors." Dolly laughed and took that as an invitation to enter the room. She stayed by the door though, her hands clasped together awkwardly.
"Oh, well, I just wanted to ask you something." Her expression grew slightly nervous. Charlie frowned, unsure why she had any reason to be worried around her.
"What is it?" She asked kindly, gesturing for Dolly to come forward into the room. She cautiously stepped closer but stayed standing, rather than taking the seat Charlie offered her.
"Uh, well, Fran was telling me that you and Dick are a thing now and I just wanted to see if it was true." Charlie went very pale, her mouth dropping open.
"What?" She squeaked. "No, no, no, no, we're not 'a thing'!" Then Charlie thought about it a little more. "Who on earth is Fran?" Dolly realised Charlie still didn't know many of the people who worked there and tried her best to clear things up for her.
"She's Ernie Meade's secretary," she explained. "She said Ginger saw you two kissing." Charlie frowned again.
"Ginger?" She repeated, not recognising the name. Then a lightbulb flicked on above her head. The lovely woman who had helped her get changed the day before. She saw the whole thing. Charlie returned her attention to Dolly and desperately shook her head. "No, no, that was for the archive thing that we were doing."
"Yeah, but Ginger told Franny, who told me, that after the scripted kiss, you guys did it again and it wasn't, you know, as age appropriate as the first one," Dolly replied, a hint of a smirk on her lips. She was enjoying this immensely. Charlie was not.
"Oh, God." She let her head drop into her hands. Dolly let out a comical gasp, clapping her hands together excitedly.
"So it is true!" When Fran told her all about the kiss, Dolly denied it wholeheartedly. In her mind, there was no way that Charlie and Dick would give in to their feelings so openly, what with Dick being quite shy really and Charlie being the most cool and collected woman she'd ever met. She was beyond happy to know it was true. Poor Charlie's face was contorting into all sorts of shapes as she tried to come up with a reply that wouldn't embarrass her further.
"No! Well, yes. But I don't... Ugh." She supported her head on splayed fingers by her temple, looking up at Dolly hopelessly. "How many people know?" Dolly averted her eyes, suddenly looking very guilty. If Fran had told her, then it was very likely that she had told many, many others.
"Uh..." She tried to think of something to say that might comfort her but Charlie groaned, covering her face again.
"Oh, bugger." Dolly nodded.
"Yeah." Charlie heaved a huge sigh. Any hope that they could keep the incident quiet had well and truly been flung out of the window. She looked up at Dolly again and gave her a weak smile.
"Thank you for telling me." She meant it. It was far better to hear it from a friend, someone she trusted, than to hear whispers in the hallway. Dolly waved her off, just pleased to know that Fran had told her the truth.
"No problem," she said, before leaving Charlie alone once more. She ran a hand through her hair and took a deep breath. It had been an odd day and it was only one in the afternoon. Charlie worried her lip as she mulled over her situation. So, everyone knew, from Walt Disney himself to his secretary. Oh, this was bad. She'd hoped to leave an impression on the company and its employees, but this wasn't what Charlie had in mind at all. Her attention was suddenly drawn back to the book still resting on her desk. Charlie reached for it, taking care not to be too rough with it, as it was quite old now and a little worse for wear. She studied the front cover then gingerly opened the book. Her eyes widened in surprise as she took in the sight before her.
On the first page, under all the copyright information, there was a brief note written in blue ink. It read: 'To Charlotte, thank you for listening.' Then Mrs. Travers' surprisingly messy signature lay underneath. Charlie let out a disbelieving laugh, pushed back her chair and jumped to her feet. Her mother had wanted to get it signed but Charlie never actually thought she would manage it. How had Mrs. Travers known? Oh, it didn't matter! Charlie let out another laugh and gave a little excited jump, which she was very glad no one was around to see. She carefully placed the book on the shelf above her head and got back to work, Uncle Albert's house wasn't going to draw itself.
Dick pounded the piano keys, really giving it everything he had. Their newest song was a lot of fun but once again, they weren't sure how Mrs. Travers would take it.
"I love to laugh! Loud and long and clear!" He sang enthusiastically, hoping to encourage some sort of reaction from the author that wasn't a tight-lipped scowl. "I love to laugh! It's getting worse every year!" Mrs. Travers was in her usual spot, her arms folded. Don was sat scribbling in his notepad but Bob was thankfully by his side. As it was their work being judged, they needed to stick together.
"The more I laugh, the more I fill with glee." Bob took a turn, reading the words from the music before them. "And the more the glee, the more I'm a merrier me!"
"Some people laugh through their noses, sounding something like this..." Dick demonstrated for the author. Her lip twitched, but whether it was from amusement or distaste, he couldn't be sure. "Some people laugh through their teeth, goodness sake. Hissing and fizzing like snakes."
"Some laugh too fast. Some only blast - Ha!" Bob had shown an unusual amount of patience with Mrs. Travers that day. When she swept into the room and shooed Dolly away, Bob remained silent like the others always chose to. Dick had been worried about his brother. Since they started working with Mrs. Travers, things had been rocky. The frustration she brought with her meant that their work didn't feel as fun as it usually did, but now it appeared Bob had put it behind him, or at least, that he'd gotten used to her.
"We love to laugh!" They bellowed together, and Dick saw Don look up from his script and nod his head along to the music. "Loud and long and clear. We love to laugh! So everybody can hear. The more you laugh, the more you fill with glee. And the more the glee, the more we're a merrier we!" Dick ran his fingers across the keys in a flourish of notes, ending the song with the same enthusiasm as when it began. From the excited, hopeful expression on his face as he waited for Mrs. Travers' verdict, Don almost couldn't believe that Dick had been present for their previous sessions. Had he learned nothing? The author let out a long, slow sigh, then raised her chin, fixing the brothers with her stony gaze.
"While the premise is ridiculous, the song is tolerable," she stated, quick and concise as ever. "What's next?" If that was all she had to say on the matter, things were looking up. Dick glanced at his brother, pouting his lips. Bob rolled his eyes back at him but he was smiling all the same.
They worked for hours and hours. Soon the bright sun that warmed them disappeared, the moon beginning to take its place. The clouds were drawing in, casting a shadow over the Studios. Dick and Bob were still in the rehearsal room, determined to finish the song they were working on. It was a slow tune, very different to the others in the film, but it was sure to be a hit.
"Okay, one more time. I think I've got it perfect now," Dick murmured, his voice hoarse from a long day of singing. When he got no reply, he looked round to see if his brother was alright. Dick sighed when he saw that he'd drifted off, stretched out across the chairs near the piano. He shook his head and turned back to the keys. Maybe they were working too hard. If only that woman could see what they could. Someone needed to knock some sense into her and fast. Dick gently began to play again, practising the melody so that it would be just right for when they played it for Walt the next day. There was a soft knock on the door, so quiet he almost didn't catch it. It wasn't until he saw a flash of movement over the top of the piano that Dick finally looked up. Charlie was standing in the doorway, that familiar look of concern settling on her face.
"You're still here?" She stepped into the room. Dick's eyes widened and he raised his hand as a warning, placing a finger to his lips with the other. Charlie frowned back at him in bewilderment but she stopped all the same. Dick pointed to the bench where his brother was sleeping and Charlie followed his gesture. "Oh," she breathed. She hadn't seen Bob lying there, his figure was covered in shadows. She bit her lip and scrunched up her face. "Sorry." Dick shrugged and gave her a sweet smile, picking up the melody again.
"We were trying to finish this piece before tomorrow, but I suppose it's been a little too much for Bob." He glanced at his brother with a wry smile. Charlie began to walk towards him, a lot more mindful of her heels clacking on the floor now.
"You should know that the entirety of the company knows about yesterday." Dick almost fumbled the tune at her words but thankfully caught himself.
"Oh?" Charlie hummed, a sly smile slipping onto her lips.
"Thank you, Ginger." Dick shrugged and looked back down at the keys.
"I never liked her anyway," he joked, making Charlie snort as she tried to suppress her laughter. Once she'd made sure that she hadn't woken Bob, she tiptoed around to Dick's side of the piano and watched him play. Charlie leaned forward to see the sheet music he'd been scribbling on all day, lightly resting her hand on Dick's shoulder. The warmth of her touch felt wonderful but he tried not to let it distract him as he continued to play softly.
"Did you finish it?" Her eyes followed the scrawled musical notations, trying to understand how the words went with the music he was playing. Charlie didn't really have the right mind for music but she could understand a little.
"Come, sit." He shuffled down the piano bench to give her room. She carefully positioned herself next to him, glad of a better view of the music. Dick stopped playing and watched her for a moment before smiling. "Wanna hear how it sounds?" Charlie returned her attention to him, her eyebrows drawn together.
"But won't we wake your brother?" She glanced at Bob as he shifted in his sleep. Dick shrugged and waved off her concerns.
"He's fine. When he sleeps, he's out like a light." That was enough for Charlie. She nodded eagerly, looking back at the music before them.
"Alright then," she said, trying to hide how excited she was. He reshuffled the pages so that they were in order and showed her where the words started. Her eyes flicked to the top of the page to find the name of the song. "'Feed the Birds'," Charlie read aloud. "That's what it's about? Feeding birds?" Dick chuckled quietly and shook his head as he began to play the opening bars of the tune.
"Just listen and you'll see," he told her softly and Charlie laughed a little too as she looked back at the sheet music. "Early each day to the steps of Saint Paul's, the little old bird woman comes." Dick glanced at Charlotte to gauge her reaction. She smiled and nodded encouragingly so he continued. "In her own special way to the people, she calls: 'Come, buy my bags full of crumbs. Come feed the little birds, show them you care. And you'll be glad if you do. Their young ones are hungry, their nests are so bare. All it takes is tuppence from you'." Dick did something tricky and impressive with his fingers as the melody changed, reaching the chorus of the song. "'Feed the birds, tuppence a bag. Tuppence, tuppence, tuppence a bag'. 'Feed the birds', that's what she cries. While overhead, her birds fill the skies." Charlie began to smile as he shifted up an octave. Something about this song made her feel safe and warm. It reminded her of home. "All around the cathedral, the saints and apostles look down as she sells her wares. Although you can't see it, you know they are smiling each time someone shows that he cares."
Walt Disney stood in the doorway of the music room, watching the pair behind the piano with a warm smile. He'd heard music from outside and ventured in to investigate. What he found pleased him immensely. Charlie was smiling so beautifully and Dick, well, he was staring at her with the most dumbstruck look he'd ever seen on a man. There was only ever one reason a guy had a look like that on his face around a lady.
"Though her words are simple and few, listen, listen, she's calling to you." Charlie looked round at Dick and beamed at him brightly. He smiled back before he felt his face grow hot and he looked back down at the piano keys. "'Feed the birds, tuppence a bag. Tuppence, tuppence, tuppence a bag'," he finished softly. Dick raised his fingers from the keys and settled his hands in his lap, a pleased smile on his face. "Wonderful," he murmured. Charlie raised her eyebrows, a teasing smile on her lips.
"Well, you wrote it, Mr. Sherman." Dick all but blushed at the compliment.
"No, no, I meant you," he went on, although his smile was a little more crooked with embarrassment now. Charlie tilted her head ever so slightly to the side and he gave a small shrug. "You're wonderful." He met her eyes properly for the first time since she entered the room. Charlie opened her mouth to reply but found she didn't quite know what to say. Luckily, Walt chose then to make his presence known.
"That'll work." The couple at the piano both jumped at the new voice and whipped their heads around.
"Walt." Charlie gave a relieved laugh, a hand placed over her thudding heart. She suddenly felt like she was interrupting, so she decided to leave them to it. She gave Dick a grateful smile. "Thank you for playing for me." She stood from the piano and made her way past Disney to the door. Charlie had been on her way home when she heard piano music still playing and curiosity got the better of her, but now she was well and truly worn out. "I'll see you tomorrow," she called softly over her shoulder to the men, who nodded back.
"Goodnight," Walt said, raising his hand in farewell.
"Goodnight, Charlie," said Dick, a little softer, smiling at her retreating form. Disney sighed and tucked his hands into his jacket pockets.
"But she's going to say no, isn't she?" Dick instantly knew who and what he was referring to. Walt's eyes wandered over the piano in front of him, thinking about the song he had just heard. It was a beautiful piece, it'd be great for the picture. But then there was Pamela. "Woman's a conundrum," he muttered, almost to himself. Dick nodded faintly along with him before an idea suddenly struck. He shuffled the sheet music in front of him, searching for one piece in particular. It was a little something he, his brother and Don had been toying around with earlier.
"My world was calm, well-ordered, exemplary," he sang, his fingers ever so softly playing out the faint melody, trying hard not to wake his brother. "Then came this person with chaos in her wake." He pointed out the words to his boss so that he could sing along and he chuckled, taking him up on his offer. Disney sat down and began to sing. "And now my life's ambitions go with one fell blow. It's quite a bitter pill to take."
"Inspired by someone we know?" Walt smiled sadly and raised his eyebrows. Dick shrugged, nodding to where his brother was still asleep, clutching his injured leg.
"You'd have to ask Bob," he said, feigning innocence and trying hard not to smile. He chewed his lip before continuing. "She might surprise us all." But Walt shook his head.
"She won't."
"You don't know that." Disney shook his head again, his eyes trained on the piano.
"Oh, I do. I know it. I know it only too well," he said slowly, bitterly. "I've fought this battle from her side." Dick raised his chin, beginning to understand what he meant. "Pat Powers, he wanted the mouse and I didn't have a bean in my pocket back then. He was this big, terrifying New York producer and I was just a kid from Missouri with a sketch of Mickey but..." He shook his head. "It woulda killed me to give him up. Honest to God killed me." Dick nodded, he understood completely. "That mouse," said Walt. "Is family." Then he paused, mulling over the situation in his head for a moment before standing up with a sigh. Walt slid his hands back into his pockets and walked towards the door. "Go home," he added as an afterthought. Dick smiled and was about to start packing away his things when Walt turned around again in the doorway. "Oh, and to settle a bet between me and Tommie, just ask that girl out to dinner." His words took Dick completely by surprise and he spluttered through a reply.
"I don't know if that's... I don't, uh-"
"I know it's none of my business, but..." Disney shrugged, tapping a finger to his temple then pointing at him. "Just think about it." Then he was gone. Dick stared after him for a moment before sighing and shaking his head.
"Believe me, I have."