Friday, 13 April 2018

10:45 am

Charles pulled the front passenger door shut beside him and reached for the seat belt to fasten himself in. "That was nice of Dr. Parker to lend me a hand with Lady's things. Saved me another trip from the car."

"Aye, but what took you so long in there, did Beryl corner you?"

"Not at all, in fact, when I first walked in she didn't even say hello, just went straight back to the offices. Strange, I know she saw me."

"I'm sure she did." Charles didn't know what to make of Elsie's comment, or her scowl as she peered over her left shoulder and behind him watching for traffic. She turned the steering wheel and the indicator snapped back to neutral as she pulled into the street.

"Say more." When she looked confused, he added, "About Beryl."

"Oh, that." She glanced over at him, debating for a moment how much to share. They were heading to Brighton to check out the cottage roof and whatever she shared could make for a long trip there and back. She sighed, "We're in the midst of a little tiff. Started last week during the party and escalated on Sunday. We haven't communicated since."

"But she's one of your best, longest friends, right?"

"True, but sometimes those are the relationships that are most prone to tiffs. Not to worry. I hear stories of this sort all the time from my clients, and just like I tell them, it will work out. You can't stay mad for long at someone you love so much."

"Mmm-hmm. But what's behind this one, if I may ask?" He realized it was going to be a long trip to Brighton and back and a good chance for them to talk; why not get the conversation started.

"You." She looked over at him again to gauge his reaction.

"Me? Pray tell whatever for?"

"It's the most ridiculous thing, honestly. And I don't know where she got this idea anyway, but…"

"What Elsie? I'm a grown man."

"Well, that's a nicer way to put it than Beryl did." Elsie cleared her throat as she looked straight ahead. "For some reason she thinks you're – Charlie, please forgive me for what I'm about to say. Beryl thinks you're a…"

"What, Elsie? Surely she's heard by now from you that I'm what, the most-accommodating surrogate dog owner alive? A flatterer? A curmudgeon?"

"A pervert."

"What?!" His prominent brows were practically in a knot.

"I told you it was ridiculous and I asked you to forgive me for saying it. Now, I don't know where she got that idea, or when, but it's somewhat recent because back in February Beryl was keen on introducing us. She thought at that time we'd be a good match. Now she thinks you're a pervert."

"Well, at least she originally had her senses."

"Aye, and she'll come back to her senses once she has a chance to get to meet you outside the clinic. When she settles down some and we're back on speaking terms – which will happen soon – I want to make that happen." He didn't say anything, he was thinking of the last time he'd been at the clinic and Beryl was there, replaying that afternoon visit when he'd brought Lady in. "Charlie?"

"Hmmm?"

"I feel badly for saying that, but please know Beryl's been sticking her nose in my relationships for 30 years and she and everyone are especially over-protective of me, after…"

"Tell me."

"After the idiot I was last seriously involved in."

"I promise not to judge, Elsie, but I would like to know. I've, I've been wondering about your past."

"Ha! And now that we are together for a long car ride, what better time to ask? We'd have to drive down to Brighton and continue in a circle around the entire British coastline to cover that topic!"

"Well, I'm not asking you for every juicy nugget, but tell me something. I've been wondering why a woman as beautiful, well-educated, caring, generous, smart and accomplished as you hasn't been snatched up by some bloke before me."

She blushed, he was obviously being sincere in his accolades as well as his curiosity.

"Well, Mr. Carson, I don't want you to jump out of the car on account of my story, so let me break it to you slowly and just tell you about The Dick - that's what I called him after I broke up with him. Richard Carlisle is otherwise his name. He was – is – a journalist. Beryl didn't like him from the start, she didn't fall for his charm the way that I did. We went together for a long while, a couple of years."

"Then I presume you two were…"

"Intimate? I hate to admit it now, not right away mind you, but we were. It was a wonderful change for someone to regard me as attractive and at the same time be attracted to the same someone."

"Sorry to interrupt your storytelling, but I find that hard to believe, Elsie. You are attractive, in fact, you know I find you beautiful. If I haven't said it enough so far, I'm sorry. I can't believe your lack of self esteem in that regard."

She sighed, "You have said it, and I thank you and count my lucky stars every time you do." She was nibbling on her lower lip now. Charles had begun to notice this habit of hers that he frankly found alluring. He also had learned by now that it was a sign she was thinking something through and so he gave her the space to continue. "The self esteem as you call it, Charlie, is well-founded."

"In your professional opinion?"

"Aye, in my professional opinion." Oh, to heck with it, might as well go all in, she thought. "I'm a breast cancer survivor, Charlie."

"Elsie, I had no idea."

"Of course you wouldn't."

"When?"

"1998."

"So you're –"

"Healed?" He nodded. "Ironic word for it. I am cancer free and have been for years, knock on wood. But it required surgery, Charlie, extensive." He looked uncomfortable – as they all did when it came to this conversation in Elsie's experience. "I had a double-mastectomy, Charlie, and the whole process was really intense and I nearly gave up. My boyfriend at the time, John, couldn't handle it. He bolted and Martha and her husband and my da – my ma died before my diagnosis –brought me back from the brink – physically and emotionally. I'm forever grateful, and it's why I put up with all the crap that Martha dishes my way. It's also, I think, part of what makes me a good therapist – I have empathy for my clients who are going through whatever their issues are."

"I'm sure it does." Courtesy response, but then he surprised her. "Elsie, is there a chance that…" he trailed off and wiped a tear from his eye and sniffled, prompting him to reach for his handkerchief.

"It could come back?" Again, he nodded. "Always a chance, but just on my left. Sorry if this is too much information but I had a subcutaneous mastectomy on that side, it's also called a nipple-sparing mastectomy. Enough breast tissue remains to warrant continued screening mammograms." He had collected himself and appeared unfazed. She was impressed.

"And your doctor was good? She did a good job, took care of you properly?"

Oh yeah, there's that from his past she realized, maybe why he was as understanding and caring as he appeared to be. "He did, and he's still my doctor."

"Good, good."

"Anyway, the simple declaration of 'I have one nipple and two breast implants' is often enough to scare men away, Charlie. So at the time, it was refreshing that Richard wasn't scared off. In truth, as time wore on I realized he was frankly attracted to people's personal issues. That became clearer when he quit his respectable full-time job to focus on what had been a side hustle originally. He started and still runs a seedy online celebrity gossip site called Haxby Park as far as I know. He's a ruthless charmer who capitalizes on others' scandals. And I finally came to my senses and kicked him out of my life – after he'd proposed and I'd been wearing his engagement ring for some time." Bugger, they'd gotten in deeper than she'd anticipated this morning.

"Thank you for telling me, Elsie I'm sure it wasn't easy." He reached over, indicating he wanted her left hand. She let go of the wheel and he gently kissed the back of her hand, before guiding it back to the steering wheel. He was proving charming yet again, though in a very different way than Richard ever was. Nonetheless, that past experience with The Dick was why she was being cautious and taking it slowly now with Charles.

"It's true that's a skeleton I'm glad to get out of the closet. But enough heavy chatter for now. How about we talk about a lighter topic? Have you ever been to Brighton, Charlie?"

He chuckled, it was good to change the things up. "Once, years ago, shortly after graduate school. Oddly enough, I've just dug out an old photo from that trip in the last two weeks. I was there with Ham and Cora and our bicycles – or maybe one should say tricycle, because I really was a third wheel. They'd rented a cottage on the water for a long summer weekend and somehow ended up inviting me to join them at the last minute. I know I was an afterthought because whilst they shared the lone bedroom, I slept on the sofa, or attempted to. They'd driven down with their bikes and I decided to ride mine down from London.

While we were in Brighton, Ham and I began this brilliant athletic boasting that only 20-something lads would dream up: to compete against one another in our own private swimming and biking biathlon beginning with a half mile swim in the channel and then road racing back to Robert's parents' in Hampshire."

"My word! How far is that?"

"On the major roads it is probably just under a hundred miles, but we were on the smaller country roads for safety purposes. I think it was about 75 miles. Well, Ham was – and probably still is – the superior swimmer and I the superior cyclist and I –"

"And you smoked Ham!" She enjoyed her little joke and timing!

"How did you guess?"

"I didn't Charlie, I saw the photo on your desk the last time I was over, when you were down for your swim."

"Yes, that's the one, and yes, I did smoke him – I'll have to use that line. Very clever, Elsie, I like it."

"And you've never been back?"

"To Brighton? No, not until today. No particular reason for that, I always enjoyed holidays near the water, but I suppose I found myself going elsewhere, mainly in Yorkshire whilst my parents were alive. I like Scarborough for one, wouldn't mind going back there – it's been forever and a day."

Elsie's phone, mounted on the dash, rang then. They could both see by the screen that it was Becky. "Excuse me, Charlie, I should take this on the speaker." She hit the phone icon. "Hi sweetheart, everything okay?"

"Elsie, can we sleep over tonight?"

"May you sleep over tonight. Becky, I have you on the speaker, I'm in the car with Mr. Carson – Charlie – and he loves good grammar."

"Good morning, Becky!"

"Hi Charlie."

"Becky, I'm surprised to hear you say that you want to sleep over. It's Friday after all and I know you love to be at home for film and popcorn night." She looked over at Charles; after saying hello, he was being super quiet and listening intently due to his curiosity about Becky Hughes.

"Yes, but Mrs. Kumar is here tonight and she's bringing samosas for dinner."

"Well, those sound good. And I know Mrs. Kumar is a wonderful cook. I don't understand where the problem is."

"I want pizza with the film."

"Becky, samosas are kind of like pizza."

"No, they aren't. Pizzas are baked, samosas are fried." Elsie rolled her eyes, Becky may be simple-minded but she paid attention to the details. Charles being a details man himself actually found this enlightening and amusing. "If I sleep over at your place, we could have pizza, right?"

"Becky, Charlie and I are driving down to Brighton right now, he's helping me check the roof of the cottage. Remember when we drove down last time there seemed to likely be a problem? We're going to check on that and I'd like to take him to lunch for his trouble and I just don't even know when we'll return to London."

"But you didn't say no."

Again with the details. "You're right, I didn't say no. Becky, let me see how the day goes down there, and I'll call you back when I have a better sense of our schedule. I don't want you to have to wait until late to eat your dinner."

"But I can wait, I won't be too hungry."

Elsie looked down at the clock on the dash, "Let me guess, you all have already eaten your luncheon."

"Aye, how did you know?"

"Just a guess. Becky, I'll call you back later – no promises on the sleep over." She hung up. "And that, Mr. Carson, is my younger sister."

"Why not let her sleep over?"

"Because I really don't know when we'll be back and you don't know the small fortune I must spend on her living expenses. I like to get as much out of the investment as possible."

"It's a lot is it?"

"1/6th of a second mortgage, property taxes and insurance not to mention upkeep and the salary of the residents' caretaker. Granted, we're not making her rich, but it's skilled care so not minimum wage either. Then there's food and clothing of course, it all adds up and why we providers – the parents or siblings of the residents – take turns over the weekends at the house."

"I guess I didn't think of all that." He paused. "Tell her yes."

"What?"

"Tell Becky yes, I want to get to know her better. We can make sure we get back at a decent hour and we can watch a film and have popcorn together at your place, yes? Oh, and pick up a pizza, of course."

"You know the wait for a pizza is three times as long on a Friday night."

"What's with you and your aversion to Friday night dinners, Elsie? Can't go out, can't do take away."

"Protective of my time, Charlie, it's precious you know."

He could see her point. "Then let me make it. We'll stop by the market, pick up a simple cheese pizza and dress it up however we wish. I do that often for myself, I have a well-seasoned pizza stone at home."

"Well, it sounds wonderful and a kind offer on your part, but I don't have a pizza stone, well-seasoned or otherwise."

"Where is Becky's place relative to yours?" He wouldn't accept no for an answer. She told him Becky lived rather close, deliberately. "Then how about this: you drop me off at one of the Underground stations when we return. I'll run home and get my pizza stone whilst you pick up Becky and both of you go together to the market to get whatever you like on your pizza and then we meet back at your place."

"You really want to make this happen, don't you?"

"I do."

"But suppose you don't like what we like on our pizza?"

"Do I look like I'm particular about my pizza toppings?" His self-deprecation was rather endearing. "Come on, Elsie. Suppose a bomb goes off, suppose we're hit by a falling star?"

"Okay, okay, I'll call Becky back when we've parked. We're almost to Brighton. Thank you, I'm glad. I am touched that you want to get to know Becky."

"She's an integral part of your life, Elsie. Just as I aspire to be."

"Oh, you are already, Charlie."

On their way through downtown Brighton, they picked up sandwiches that they brought on to the cottage. It would save a little time and neither knew what all would be required of the roof assessment.

Charles was immediately taken with the old stone cottage, ivy climbing up its sides. Yes, there was probably some overgrown landscaping but the bones were there – along with a very nice stained glass window in the loo that he noticed upon arrival. Elsie had turned the water on, she always turned it off preemptively whenever she left the cottage. They ate their sandwiches right away as Elsie pointed out the signs of water damage on the window wall that faced the channel. No sooner was Charles about to investigate the roof more closely than they had to return to town. The lone ladder was old and of wood construction and his weight inadvertently broke one of the rungs.

New metal ladder in their possession, Charles first climbed into the attic to investigate. "Be careful up there," she encouraged. It did appear that there was water damage in one corner, likely some mold, he could see that with the flashlight. He climbed back down and switched their attention outdoors. He wanted to wet the roof in order to study where exactly the leak was and how badly the water was coming in. They hooked up the hose and he stood on the back patio, Igor at his feet wanting to play. He teased the dog with a couple quick redirects of the stream of water. Meanwhile, Elsie was inside, looking up local contractors and roofers on her phone.

As Charles stood there, he found the setting quite lovely, very tranquil, albeit a little cool still at this time of year with the wind coming over the water. Immediately behind the cottage itself, he noticed that the beach grass was high enough to render the back patio quite secluded. He mentioned as much when Elsie returned. She laughed and explained that was planned – Martha used to sunbathe, nude, out here all the time. Around the side of the house was also a tall hedge and enclosure. Had he noticed that by chance? Eons ago, Harold Levinson closet engineer had built an outdoor shower and solar water heater for his wife to shower outside as well.

After a few minutes dousing the roof, Charles returned inside and climbed up the ladder. He had a good sense now of where the leak was coming in. He hauled the ladder outside now and climbed up to reach the roof. Elsie stood at the base, stabilizing it yet encouraging him once again to be careful. He asked her for an old towel or rag to wipe his hands on as he pulled some of the muck out of the gutter. Wiping his hands then, he went to put the rag in his pocket but noticed it wouldn't go in all the way, then he remembered. Inside the same pocket was a small plastic, sealed bag – containing Lady's ashes. Bill Mason had given them to him this morning. He frowned and then switched the rag to his other pocket.

Coming down the ladder, he explained that he didn't think the damage was extensive. The gutter needed a good cleaning and she should get a roofer in to repair or replace a few tiles that were damaged and undoubtedly the root cause of the leak; and a plasterer for inside. "So, not a whole new roof?"

"By no means, she's got good bones, some new insulation would be good too. It's much improved these days." Charles was back on the wood planks of the patio, but pointing to a few loose nails, and a board or two that would benefit from replacement. "Another job, another quid. Martha won't like that."

"Well, I can replace those. I am a licensed architectural preservationist, after all."

"Oh, do you have any references?" she teased.

"Do I have any references, come here woman!" And he reached for her hand, pulling her to him suddenly and much to her unexpected delight, prompting a squeal from her followed by a bark from Igor. "Will you accept this reference?" And he leaned down and kissed her well and good on the lips. She tilted her head up, deepening the kiss and closed her eyes. "Ugh, too many onions, Mr. Carson!"

Their lips hadn't yet fully parted, "Ah, but I like them on my pizza too!"

"Oh, shoot! I still need to call Becky, let her know about our little pizza party."

"Before you do that, let me see what you found in the way of the local contractors." He slipped on his glasses and studied them. He didn't anticipate that he would know any and he didn't. "Send me a screen shot, please, I'll look them up when I get home, check their experience and customer reviews, get you a couple good ones to come out and bid on the project."

"You're right, this is probably more involved that I was thinking. I guess I'll have to come back down here again soon."

"You mean we."

"Hmmm?"

"I'll come back with you. I know you can handle it but I'll clean the gutters and all, and it might not hurt to have me here so I can speak with them too, hear their assessments and approaches."

"You'd do that?"

"Of course, what else do I have to do? Maybe we could come back next Friday."

"Well, that is the next time I could possibly make it down here."

"Then it's a date. Let's go inside again, I saw some stuff stored up in the attic, looked like it may have been some extra roof tiles. It would be good if that's the case."

An hour later they were on their way back to London.

6:00 pm

The dogs were in the back yard, Becky was setting the table for three and Elsie organizing the pizza toppings when Charles rang the doorbell. Igor heard it in the back yard despite the door being closed and came running to the slider, barking.

"Hi again," he kissed Elsie on the cheek before handing her the bag with the pizza stone in it and taking off his jacket.

"My word, this is heavy. Becky, you remember Mr. Carson."

"Hi Becky, please call me Charlie."

"Hi Charlie. Where's your dog?"

Elsie looked at Charles and Charles looked at Elsie. She tilted her head toward Becky in a way to suggest it was okay to tell her. "Um, Lady died. Not even a week ago. It's nice of you to ask of her though."

"I'm sorry, she was sweet."

"Thank you, yes, she was." Elsie brought a glass of wine over to Charles, a glass of lemonade to Becky.

"Charlie, I'm afraid you have a couple of hungry lasses who've been waiting for your arrival and for you to thereby make us some pizza. Tell me what to do with the oven."

"Ah yes, okay, put the cold stone in and preheat it to 450 and I'll work on the pizza. Becky, what is it that you like on yours?"

"Tomatoes, banana peppers and green olives!"

Elsie had just started the oven. "Which we have in abundance and I like mine just like Becky's but with rocket on top once it's out of the oven. We have onions for you, Charlie, and extra cheese but I didn't know what else you like on yours, so we have some other toppings too."

"I love banana peppers on pizza, not enough people do – so I'm glad you both do!" He waggled his eyebrows which prompted Becky to laugh it looked so funny to her. "I like a freshly cracked egg on mine right out of the oven, if you have any eggs, otherwise what you've said already sounds great."

"An egg?!" Becky contorted her face. "That sounds yucky!"

"Becky, I don't know as it sounds good to me either but you don't have to make that face."

"Sorry."

Charles was behind the counter now, unwrapping the pizza. "You two don't know what you're missing if you've never tried egg on your pizza. You know, with the stone the oven will take longer to preheat, we probably won't eat for an hour. Perhaps we can snack on those red peppers in the meantime?"

"And popcorn!" Becky suggested.

"No, popcorn's for later. I'm sure I have some hummus and other veg to serve."

As the oven warmed, the three were very relaxed and domestic. Elsie built a fire whilst Charles and Becky continued to chat at the kitchen counter; they were getting along fine. Becky telling Charles all about Violet and what all they had done earlier this week. Elsie and Charles in turn told about their day in Brighton. Soon Becky complained about being too warm and Elsie suggested she run upstairs to her room to change from her jumper to a lighter top. Charles didn't think the fire had made that much of a difference. When Becky was out of earshot, Elsie clarified that Becky had started to experience hot flashes in the last couple of months.

In time, they all sat down to eat, and yes, by then Becky had been so charmed by Charles that she agreed to try an egg broken on her pizza – and she liked it! Elsie still declined.

And later still, after Becky cleared the table, Charles washed dishes and Elsie made two bags of microwave popcorn, the three settled into the living room to watch COCO which Becky had chosen on demand. The Hughes sisters sat on the sofa together, their feet curled up beside them on the seat cushions, Charles was to Elsie's right in the armchair and the dogs in front of the fireplace. All three were quickly taken with the Pixar film for different reasons: Becky the music, Elsie the storyline, and Charles the animation. Midway through, Becky asked to stop the film so she could use the loo.

Whilst Becky was upstairs again, Charles sidled over onto the sofa beside Elsie, his arm on the backrest above her. "How am I doing?"

"Marvelously, she likes you, no doubt."

"Good! It's mutual, she's so much like you! And you know I like you." Charles looked from Elsie's eyes down to her lips. She followed his gaze and could feel the heat rise within her at the realization he was initiating a kiss – one she could anticipate. His lips hadn't even touched hers yet when Becky came bounding down the stairs.

"Okay! Restart the film please, Elsie! Oh. Sorry."

Charles backed away, his head hanging down as Elsie reminded him with a whisper, "You're the one who wanted her here tonight." But as Charles made to stand up, Becky's words stopped him.

"It's okay, Charlie. You can stay there. I'll move to the chair."

He sat up a little straighter then and looked as the younger Hughes sister crossed in front of the screen to the armchair. "Thank you, Becky. That's very kind of you."

"You're welcome. Elsie, the film, please."

"Yes, Becky, right away." Elsie gave a mock salute. She was all business and that amused both Charles and Elsie who sat for the remainder of the film with him leaned against the sofa's backrest, her leaned back against his chest, his arms around her middle, and her arms resting on top of his forearms.