Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

Charlie was thinking about films. Films and the way they affected her thinking. Being an utter romantic, she always felt a tad bit depressed and overwhelmed after watching a romance film. She hated horrors and thrillers but enjoyed almost every other genre out there. As long as there was an interesting story, the acting was good and the budget hadn't been low, she could enjoy a film at any time.

One thing that she was guilty of was watching certain films due to a certain favourite of hers acting in the movie. It had led to her and Cleo watching some disturbing pictures. Cleo's weakness had been Johnny Depp. Hers was Benedict Williams.

She could still remember the moment that she'd fallen in love with him. Well, it had been more Johnny Turner than Benedict Williams himself. The film had been Falling off a Bridge and Benedict had been playing the role of a 20-year-old bad boy who had just saved a girl from committing suicide, albeit reluctantly. There followed the expected give-and-take of a general love story. She had been smitten with the actor since.

Meeting him hadn't done her any favours. He had proved more devastating in real life than on screen and that was saying something, considering the roles that the man played. Be it the villain or the heart throb, Benedict Williams knew just what to say and how to say it to make the audience swoon and tremble. He was a magician.

So as all teenage girls are want to do, she'd Googled him, stalked all sites concerning his life, had had his poster up on her ceiling, sighed every time his name had been mentioned, called herself Mrs Williams one too many times, revelled in all his shirtless film scenes, had had mixed feelings when he got married and was just as overjoyed as the rest of his fans when Michael was born. It was true-fan-love.

Then she had met the man. And she had been knocked off of her feet.

# # #

"So I Googled your Mr Williams."

Cleo said that as she was handing Charlie a plate that she had just washed to wipe.

"Oh really, C? I thought that you left that kind of behaviour behind with the 16-year-old you."

Cleo huffed out a laugh, "I did but that was your behaviour since you were twelve-years-old until you turned like twenty. You never got over your crush on the man. And remember how weird it was when Mrs Prinkle found out. 'Listen to me, girls.' Cleo imitated the old woman's voice scarily well, 'I know that you are young and impressionable but swooning after grown men cannot be healthy. You must resist!' I mean yeah sure, he was acting out teenage roles when you were still in your diapers. But that old bat probably never had a hot celeb to drool over in her days, that's why she couldn't get over our large selection! And hot celebs did we have."

"Still have," Charlie replied with amusement.

"Sorry?"

"Hot celebrities we still have."

Cleo nodded, "Hm, yes that is true. Well, Mrs Prinkle will be horrified to know that you still drool over Benedict Williams despite his current situation."

Charlie rolled her eyes, "Oh yeah? And what would Mrs Prinkle have to say to your continued obsession with Johnny Depp? His current situation is ten times more hazardous than Benedict's."

Cleo snorted, "I haven't met the man that I've had wet dreams about."

Charlie gasped in shock then burst out laughing, her face flushing with horror, "Cleo! I do not have wet dreams about Benedict Williams. I do not have wet dreams! Period."

Cleo stuck her tongue out, "Don't lie to me, Charlie. We are all friends here."

Charlie chuckled and ignored her friend. Cleo clearly had something to ask and was working her way to it. Charlie just had to be patient enough and she would soon know.

"Speaking of friends, have you made any friends at work?"

Ah. Here it was.

"Yes, one or two. The girls there are nice."

"Hmm. And the lads?"

Charlie tried to hide her smile, "They're nice too."

She sneaked a glance and found Cleo casually wiping a plate as if she didn't have a care in the world.

"Anyone nice by the name of Michael?"

Charlie couldn't help it. She laughed, "No, no one by the name of Michael even works there."

Cleo pounced, "So he's a client?"

Charlie pretended to be oblivious, "Who's a client?"

"Michael of course!"

"Who's Michael, C?"

Cleo glared at her, "You tell me."

Charlie smiled, "No, there isn't any client that I know by the name of Michael."

Cleo frowned, "Then who is Michael? The only person by the name of Michael that I know is Great Uncle Michael Peters and he's a sod if I've ever seen one. You haven't even met him. The only other Michael that I know that you know is- oh." Charlie watched as comprehension dawned on her face then it was quickly replaced by confusion, "At the firm? How?"

"One of the partner's nephews."

"Really? Well, we wouldn't even know because as I said. I Googled him and do you know that there isn't even a single picture of Michael on the net. It's so..." she trailed off, not wanting to use the wrong word.

Lucky for her, or perhaps unlucky for her, Charlie filled in the blanks, "Private? Like how it should be? Would you want every person who sees your child to take a picture of the kid and post it on the net for entertainment purposes and money?"

She was upset and she didn't understand why. She saw Cleo jerk her head in refutation at the very suggestion of her baby being plastered all over the World Wide Web for entertainment purposes.

Maybe it was because she was beginning to think of Michael as her own and the thought that people would exploit him just for fame and money was sickening her to her stomach.

"Calm down, Charlie. Of course the Williams deserve their privacy. I'm just saying that besides what little Wikipedia tells us we don't seem to have as much information on the man as we have about other celebrities. There are hundreds of pictures but nothing about his family. I wanted to know what Michael looked like."

Charlie sighed, "Yeah sorry, I didn't mean to get worked up. Well, if you're so eager, let me take a picture for you. But, just delete it once I send it, okay?"

"Wait. You're going to see him again? How do you know that?"

And so Charlie told her of her little escapades every Wednesday and Friday. Cleo was not impressed.

"Charlie, honey, baby, listen to me. I'm telling you this as your friend who loves you. You can't keep on doing this. It's not good for you."

Charlie looked at her with sombre eyes, "Keep on doing what? Helping Sandra out once in a while?"

Cleo rolled her eyes at Charlie. They had just completed washing the dishes and Cleo had been wiping the counters as Charlie packed away the extra food. Wiping her hands on a dish cloth, she hung it up and beckoned at Charlie to follow her back into the warm and cosy lounge. On the way out, she grabbed two packs of Skittles from the cupboard and threw one to Charlie. She caught it with a smile and dove onto the couch again and waited while Cleo joined her.

Cleo flopped down, her head resting on Charlie's stomach, fire-red hair fanning out across the space. It was one of the many beautiful things about Cleo. Her fire-red hair that shown with gold hints in the sun.

"You know, Charlie," she returned, carrying on their conversation from the kitchen, "I never knew you to be stupid or slow, so stop acting it now."

Charlie laughed, the sound making Cleo's head shake a little, "I'll be fine, C. Yes, he's a delightful child but I'm not going to go into depression if he suddenly stopped coming," her unspoken words of I think heard only by her.

Cleo grunted, "Oh puh-lease! If you could've, you would've adopted that child ages ago. You are getting too attached to him only to have your heart broken instead. He is not your child and planning your days around him is ridiculous!"

Charlie frowned, "I don't plan my days around him!"

Cleo rolled her eyes, "Okay fine, you plan my dad's day around Michael. Which is even worse. I, for a fact, know that my father would not be happy if he had to find out about this."

"Well, are you going to tell him?"

Cleo shook her head, "Obviously not, Charlie. But I'm advising you for your own good. I know you. You have a big heart and you've fallen in love with a child that's not yours. You are bound to get hurt if you aren't careful."

She looked at Charlie with pleading eyes, sincere in her concern. Charlie sighed, "I'll be careful. It's already been a little more than a month and soon I'll have to go anyway. I'm a grown woman and I'm not stupid."

Cleo rolled her eyes, "Don't get your back up with me. You aren't stupid in general situations but this is an adorable child whom you have some connection to, saving his life and everything. So you are bound to make some unintentional decisions about him. Just be careful. That's all I'm saying."

Charlie frowned then nodded, "I will."

# # #

Charlie was not stupid. She was in denial. She knew perfectly well that Cleo was right but this had been her constant issue since they'd been friends. Well, it had been their constant issue. Cleo would do something stupid and Charlie would try and talk some sense into her which she was totally rebuff and get her heart broken in the process and then Charlie would turn around and do the same thing. And they never learned from it.

She walked into the office on a ridiculously sunny day for London. The day was bright enough to spark everyone into a good mood and suddenly the law firm decided that it was a good time to have an early day. Obviously, it was the one day that Charlie woke up on the wrong side of the bed. Her mood was in the loo and she didn't have the energy to even try and be jolly with everyone.

"I am glad."

Charlie looked up to see Mr Robert standing in front of her desk, arms crossed and frowning down at her. This scared her because he was generally in a good mood and even when he was upset he never took it out on her. It scared her more on this particular day because he had walked into the office with a huge smile on his face, whistling. Mr Robert was not a whistling type of man.

So yes. The frown scared her. It also didn't match his words.

"Glad, Mr Robert?"

He nodded and sat at the edge of her desk, unbuttoning his suit jacket.

"Yes, quite glad. Why, you ask? Because thank goodness I don't have to put up with this foul mood of yours on this lovely sunny day."

Charlie flushed, guilt flooding into her, "I'm so sorry, Mr Robert. I didn't mean to upset you."

He laughed, "Of course you didn't. But I've known you since you were a little lass, Charlie. And I know exactly how you act around Cleo when you two used to have one of those arguments of yours. The kind that was only for the other's own good."

She was shocked. Mr Robert was one of those fathers that you could tell almost anything to and Cleo had clearly confided in him throughout her life. She hadn't realised that he had obviously taken note of Charlie too.

"So are you going to tell me what's wrong? Is Cleo being obtuse about something again?"

Charlie smiled. She loved that he obviously cared enough not to blame her immediately despite the fact that this time it was her fault. She shook her head.

"No. This time it's me."

"Ah," he nodded. "Well, if you know that you are being obtuse and are still insisting on it, it only means that you will have to go through this on your own to decide if all this angst is worth it or not."

She raised an eyebrow, "Law, Mr Robert? Really? You should have tried psychology."

He got off of her desk and shook his head on a chuckle, "No my dear. I much rather prefer taking the big shots down a peg rather than giving them one to lean on."

With that, he snapped his suit straight and headed to his office, "Take the rest of the day off. Lord knows I don't want to work today."

She gave a startled thanks and packed her things away. Maybe a little indulgence would help her mood. And what better to indulge in than a slice of Sweet Dreams 'Death by Chocolate' cake?

She headed for the elevator. Yes. The lovely café would be her next stop.