A Girl’s Best Friend. Lindsey KelkЧитать онлайн книгу.
don’t really care, if I’m honest,’ he said, interrupting. ‘I meant, what’s going on with you?’
I opened my mouth to answer but nothing came out. Instead, I held on to my scorching hot up of tea and sat in silence.
‘Why are you here?’ he went on. ‘It’s been months since, er, since I saw you. Why did you come today?’
Pulling on the end of my ponytail, I sipped my tea and focused on the Netflix DVD, wondering if he even knew it was still there.
‘Why not?’ I asked quietly.
Now it was Charlie’s turn not to have an answer.
He was sat right on the edge of his chair, his white-socked toes curled underneath each other, clenching and unclenching every other second. I waited another minute, watching him watch me, not saying a word, before I gave up.
‘Do you want me to go?’ I asked, then stood up to leave. At least if I offered, he wouldn’t feel like he was kicking me out. ‘I’ll just go. I shouldn’t—’
‘No.’ He jumped to his feet. ‘Sit down, stay. I’m sorry.’
‘It’s fine.’ I grabbed my bag and swung it onto my shoulder, my camera smacking me in the shoulder blade to remind me what an imbecile I was. ‘I’ll go. I should have called or not come or got run over on the way or something. My mistake.’
‘Tess, stop.’ As I made for the door Charlie grabbed hold of my dungarees by the shoulder strap and my mug flew out of my hand. It bounced off the blue cushions and clattered onto the floor, breaking into three large chunks as it landed. ‘Just stop.’
‘Oh balls, I’m sorry,’ I whispered, as I bent down to pick up the pieces. ‘I’m so sorry, Charlie.’
‘I know,’ he said, yanking me by my shoulder strap until I stood up to face him. ‘So am I, I’m sorry.’
Chewing my bottom lip so hard I thought I might break the skin, I turned towards my friend.
‘Come here, you daft cow.’ He wrapped his arms around my shoulders, pressed his lips against the top of my head and sighed. I felt one hundred and thirty-seven days fall away from the calendar as I buried my face in his armpit, greedily breathing in his teenage boy deodorant, smiling and ignoring the tickling in my ears and lump in my throat.
‘Your hair smells like a wet dog,’ he said, squeezing me tightly.
‘I know.’ My voice was muffled by his damp football shirt and smiles. ‘It’s a new thing I’m trying. All the rage in Milan.’
‘I’m glad you’re here.’ He squeezed my shoulders once more and then let me go. Without the weight of his arms around me, I felt so light I worried I might float away. ‘I’ve been feeling like shit for months.’
I’d never been so happy to hear that someone I loved had been miserable because of me.
‘I wanted to say something but the longer I left it, the more I felt like a dickhead,’ he said, avoiding the broken mug and throwing himself onto the settee, arms and legs all over the place. I sat down next to him, our denim-clad knees just touching, just barely. ‘And then you went quiet and I thought it was too late.’
‘You didn’t answer any of my texts,’ I said, working very hard to resist the urge to clean up the broken mug. Now was not the time. ‘I didn’t think you would want to be friends again.’
‘I didn’t.’ He leaned back against the settee and closed his eyes. ‘I was so angry with you, Tess. I don’t think I’ve ever been so angry about anything. But, you know, feelings go away eventually.’
I pursed my lips and cocked my head thoughtfully. Did they? Just like that?
‘I should have been honest with you,’ I said slowly. The peace between us felt fragile and every word out of my mouth seemed heavy and dangerous. ‘About you know, about the other situation.’
Nick. Nick Nick Nick Nick Nick.
Charlie took a deep breath and let it out, hard and heavy.
‘Yeah, maybe,’ he said. ‘But I understand.’
‘You do?’ I really hoped he had more to say on the subject because I definitely didn’t.
‘Yeah, I understand.’ Charlie wiped the palms of his hands over his face and I realized what he meant. Just because he said he could understand it didn’t mean he had to like it. ‘You were confused and you were going through some stuff and I didn’t exactly help, did I? Then you go off on an adventure and you meet this …’
He paused to take another deep breath while I held mine.
‘You meet this bloke …’ He kicked the ‘k’ out hard. ‘And it’s exciting and fun and it is what it is. We’ve all done it.’
And by ‘done it’ what he actually meant was that what he’d done was ‘shag your awful flatmate without telling you’, but in this instance I was prepared to give him a pass.
‘It doesn’t matter now,’ he said with a shrug. ‘We’ve been friends a long time, Tess. I should have called you and I didn’t, more because of hurt pride than anything else. It was stupid. I was stupid and I’m sorry.’
I chewed the inside of my cheeks, admittedly a little confused. In my heart of hearts I had to admit it stung that he wasn’t crying himself to sleep over me, just a little bit. I’d nursed my agonizing, unrequited crush on Charlie for the best part of a decade. He got over me in less than six months.
‘I just want to be mates again,’ he said. ‘And Paige told me that, well, she told me you and this bloke were the real thing.’
‘Paige?’ I turned to look at him so fast my ponytail whipped around and whacked me in the chops. ‘My Paige?’
‘Yeah, when we were working on the Peritos pitch,’ he explained. ‘And I suppose, while I’m being the bigger man, I’m glad you’ve met someone. Not to be a girl about it but, you know, maybe me and you weren’t meant to be.’
‘Maybe.’
Even now, when I knew he was right, it was hard to say.
Charlie rolled his eyes and smiled, looking just like my Charlie, the one I’d been in love with for so long, and my heart began to beat just a little bit faster. The last time I had been in his flat, I thought, running a hand over the settee, the last time we’d been sat here together …
‘So can we call a truce?’ he said, holding out his hand. ‘Go back to how things were before: Tess and Charlie versus the world?’
Ten years I’d waited for Charlie to tell me that he loved me, and as soon as he did, I went and fell in love with someone else. Brilliant bloody timing, Brookes.
‘I suppose so,’ I said, taking his hand in mine and shaking it hard, sad for what could have been, happy for what was – and still confused, but more than anything else, relieved. ‘I need someone to watch the last five episodes of Breaking Bad with me, I’ve been too scared to watch it on my own.’
‘Your bloke not into television or something?’ he asked, his face looking like he had tasted something bitter. ‘Because you know how I feel about people who don’t like telly.’
‘He actually hasn’t got one,’ I admitted. ‘But that doesn’t really matter, given that we’re not together.’
Now it was Charlie’s turn to look confused.
‘I told you,’ I reminded him. ‘Remember when you told me to piss off and I said I wanted to make things right and you asked if it was because he’d dumped me?’
Ah, happy memories.
‘Bit of a blur to be honest,’ he said. ‘I thought you were all loved up. I thought that’s