AN/ You know I love cliffhangers, but I'm just not cruel enough to draw them out...Judging by views and reviews, I think most folks are ready for this SECOND UPDATE OF THE DAY!
"Colin!" Charles yelled out enthusiastically. "Thank goodness you boys have found him. We've been that worried, we have."
Charles quickly evaluated the two men. Grigg's mouth had gotten Charles into a few scraps against his will, but he'd gotten pretty good at reading people and defusing a situation. The larger of the two men, who was Charles' height but much heavier, was supporting an unconscious Colin by holding him under his arms and clasping his hands at Colin's chest. The smaller and keener eyed of the two was still holding the key to the door.
The two men were so startled that the larger one almost dropped Colin. Charles' heart was beating quickly, but he knew he had to exude confidence. These were opportunists; petty thieves who'd grabbed a chance. They wouldn't dare a direct attack unless they sensed weakness.
"I'm Charles Carson, Colin's brother-in-law. You must be some of his mates from the Bull." Charles shook the smaller man's hand and took the key from him. He beamed at the larger man and held out his hand. They both wondered how Charles knew which pub they'd just come from.
"Jacob Riley," the man said and shook Charles' hand while still holding Colin up. Charles heard the smaller man groan. They could hardly roll him now that he knew one of their names. Just as Charles had planned.
"Pleased to meet you, Jacob, why don't you drag him in here to the couch?" Charles indicated that the two men should carry Colin. Reluctantly, the brains of the operation complied. Charles looked at him keenly. "I didn't catch your name."
"Luke Hopper," the man answered, knowing that this jig was up. He and Jacob deposited Colin on the couch.
"Well, I can't thank you enough, Luke, Jacob. Here, let me get you something for your troubles." Charles hurried to the kitchen cabinet. He'd seen something earlier that would be just the thing. He returned carrying two bottles; one gin and one whiskey. They were unopened.
"I don't think Colin will be needing these anymore," he said, handing them the liquor. Their faces brightened considerably. It wasn't the score they'd hoped for, but their time hadn't been a complete waste. Charles ushered them out the door with a practiced, professional manner that achieved his purpose, but did not make them feel rushed or unwanted.
"Thanks again for your help. It's nice to know there are still good people in the world." With this little poke of irony, he shut the door firmly in their faces and locked it quickly. He let out a relieved sigh and looked towards the couch where Colin lay slumped.
Charles had started out this adventure wanting to find Colin to throttle him within an inch of his life. Charles Carson would never consider anything like that under normal circumstances, but the image of May's battered face kept his anger hot. That anger was now countered by pity; pity for the creature before him, deflated and lost. Charles remembered that he was there to look after Colin so he could reassure May that her husband was alright. Even after all he'd put her through, she still loved him. That much was clear.
Charles knew there was nothing that Elsie could do that would make him stop loving her. He wondered if there was anything he could do to lose her love. The thought sent a chill down his spine. Losing her would kill him as sure as a bullet to the heart. He had ample evidence to suspect that Colin felt the same way about May.
He had to get word back to the hotel, but he couldn't be sure Colin would still be here when he got back. Colin appeared incapacitated, but drunks could sometimes surprise you. Charles was still hungry so he returned to the kitchen and made himself a cheese sandwich. He made one for Colin too, just in case.
Charles considered his options. He couldn't lock the apartment from the outside and if he tied Colin up, he might wake up and start screaming. There was only one thing for it. After looking around, Charles found a tin pail. He filled it from the sink tap and set it beside the sink. He went to Colin and tried to move him. His body was dead weight. Charles slapped Colin's face and tried to rouse him. There was some mumbling, but Colin remained steadfastly unconscious. Charles sat beside Colin and slipped Colin's arm around him. He pulled Colin to his feet and dragged him over to the sink. Charles deposited Colin there, laying most of his upper body along the kitchen counter top, but his head was in the large sink. Charles took the pail of water and poured it over Colin's head. The response was immediate.
Sputtering and cursing, Colin lurched up and spun around. He took a swing at Charles, but hit the tin pail instead with a terrible clang.
"Ouch!" Colin cried and grasped his hand. His vision seemed to clear somewhat and he realized he was home. He clearly had no idea how he'd gotten there. Charles was already refilling the pail.
Colin finally focused on the man in his kitchen. He blinked in confusion. "Charles?" Instead of answering him, Charles threw another pail full of water directly into Colin's face. He started to refill the pail again.
"Charles, stop! Stop for Christ's sake! I'm awake," Colin begged. He was still reeling with alcohol, but flashes of memory were coming back. A look of terror replaced confusion. "Oh, God, Charles, where's May? Where's my wife?"
"She's with Elsie."
"Is she okay?"
"She's been better. You split her lip." Charles was not about to let Colin forget what he'd done.
"I have to see her. I didn't mean…I have to see her!" He was growing more and more desperate.
"That's not going to happen. Not any time soon."
Colin reacted as though he'd been struck. He crumbled to the floor and covered his face. He was wailing and crying. "Oh, God, I've done it now. Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God..."
He kept repeating this as he rocked back and forth on the wet kitchen floor. Charles was at a loss what to do. He'd never seen anyone in such a state. Colin was devastated. And rightfully so, Charles thought, but he couldn't find comfort or joy in the pathetic man's current state. He pulled up a chair and sat down in front of Colin, watching over him with equal parts disgust and sympathy.
"Why, Colin? Why did you do it? Was the prospect of moving to Hull so terrible?"
"You wouldn't understand," Colin spat bitterly, water still running down from his hair. "You're a good person. People respect you."
"I've had to earn that respect."
"But I can't," Colin began to weep again. "I'm not a good person; I'm a drunk. She's the only good thing in my life, Charles. I can't live without her. Oh, God!"
"Is a drunk all you'll ever be, Colin? Do you believe that? Are you resigned to that?"
The broken man sobbed and nodded.
"Well, there is a woman, an intelligent woman, who doesn't believe that. She thinks you can be something more. She loves you. She sent me to find you, so here I am."
"Now what?"
"Now, Elsie and I will take her to Hull with us." Charles' voice was reasonable and calm, as though explaining something to a child. "Moving to Hull could have been a new start for you, Colin. You could have had a job. You could have found friends who support you rather than prey on you and feed your illness."
"But not now?" Colin sniffed and looked up at Charles hopefully.
"I don't know. I honestly don't know." Charles couldn't look Colin in the eye; the hopeful despair was too painful to see. "You may get to see your wife again, someday, but you'll have to earn it."
"How?"
"It won't be easy, but I'll help you." Charles' response surprised them both.
"You will?"
"If you're truly willing to try," Charles promised. "Are you willing to fight, Colin?"
"To fight what?"
"Yourself. Are you willing to fight your demons?"
"I don't know if I can."
"I didn't ask if you could. I asked if you were willing. Will you fight for May? Will you fight for your marriage? Will you fight for your life?"
"What must I do?"
"For starters, I have to call to tell them that you're not dead. Don't go anywhere. I'll be right back. If you aren't here when I get back, then I can't help you."
Charles pulled Colin up from the floor and set him at the table. He pushed the sandwich in front of him and filled the kettle for tea. "Eat this and make yourself a cup of tea when the water boils. Try to get some sleep after that."
Colin nodded and picked up the sandwich. "The post office will be closed, but there's a phone box in front of it. It's three blocks up. Just turn right when you leave the building."
"Thank you," Charles started to leave, but had another thought. "Is there any alcohol in the house?"
"A bottle of gin and a bottle of scotch in the pantry," Colin admitted.
"Not anymore." Charles informed him, hoping that truly was all the liquor in the apartment.
Charles walked the three blocks to the red and white concrete box. He had never used a telephone kiosk before. He wasn't even sure how it worked. He picked up the ear piece and clicked the lever.
"Please deposit three pence," a voice commanded. It was a woman's voice, but it was a hard voice. Charles looked at the phone, where were the coins meant to go? But then he remembered.
"I don't have any coins," Charles admitted. "I need to call someone. It's very important."
"Would they accept reversed charges?"
"I…I don't know. I think so. It's the Grand Hotel Blackpool. I'm a guest there. I'm trying to call the Duchess Suite."
"What's your name, please?"
"Charles Carson."
"Please hold."
Charles waited patiently. He heard some clicks and then, "Grand Hotel Blackpool. Concierge speaking."
"Yes, would you accept reverse charges from a Mr. Charles Carson? He claims to be a guest there."
"Of course we will accept the charges," the concierge said after a brief pause where Charles assumed the concierge was confirming that he was indeed a guest. "What can I do for you, Mr. Carson?"
"Could you please connect me to Mrs. Carson in the Duchess Suite?"
"At once."
"Thank you."
"Charles?" She answered before the first ring was complete.
"I've found him."
"And?"
"He's about as well as could be expected. He's alive at least."
"Thank goodness. May will be so relieved. He's fine, May, no worries!" This last was not spoken directly into the phone. "She's resting in the other room. Are you coming back now?"
"I think I should stay with him, for a little while at least. He's still pretty distraught; downright despondent."
"Don't tell me you feel sorry for him!"
"I do, Elsie. I can't help it," Charles admitted. "He's a sad, pathetic drunk who's only ever had one bright spot in his life; just one good thing that he's always known he doesn't deserve. He's lived his whole life worried that he'll mess it up and lose her. Now he has. I admit. I do feel sorry for him. I want to sober him up and get him some proper food at least before abandoning him."
Elsie could not believe what she was hearing. "I thought you might want to beat him up, but I never imagined you'd want to nurse him."
"I promised May I'd make sure he was okay. If I leave him as he is now, I fear he might do himself a harm. I'm doing this for May, not for Colin."
Elsie could not argue with that. "Was he hard to find?"
"Not at all. In fact, he turned up right on his own doorstep." He'd tell her the whole truth another time.
TBC...
AN/ OMGOMGOMGOMGOMG! The UK premiere is THIS SUNDAY! I was hoping to have this story done by then, but that's not going to happen. For those of you in the states, do not fear. This story will remain SPOILER FREE even though I'll be posting after Series 5 starts in the UK.
On a side note, if 1924 politics are going to be a bone of contention between our lovely Chelsie, I wonder what Elsie and Charles would have to say about the upcoming vote for Scottish Independence. That might be a fight for the ages.
