Lines We Forget (12 page)

***

In the morning, Charlie gently wakes Anna and reluctantly points to his watch. “You’re going to be late for work, sleepyhead.”

She pushes him away and grumbles something about not giving a shit.

He continues to lift her up. “Come on—I’ll make you some tea. Hopefully there’s hot water left for the shower.”

“Snow day, not going in,” she mumbles.

“I don’t know if they’ll accept that excuse.”

Turning so he can’t see her face, she sighs. “Do you have work today, Charlie?”

“No.”

“Well then neither do I. It can be our joint snow day.”

He gets up and takes a peek behind the lounge curtain. The snow’s piled high against the street curbs with kids running up and down playing in it. Chucking hefty snowballs at each other.

“Looks like school’s out,” he says. “Still, the buses seem to be running, one just passed by Grafton Road.”

“Shut up and come back to bed.”

“Back to the sofa, you mean?” He laughs, tiptoeing over the mess of blankets beside it.

Anna’s clearly not gotten enough sleep; she sticks her middle finger up at him from under the duvet. “Just get back here. We still got some cheesecake in the fridge?”

“Yeah.”

“Great. Then we’ve got all we need. I’d say it’s the perfect day to just stay in bed.” She grins. “Sorry, I mean on the sofa.”

“Are you sure your work isn’t going to be pissed?”

“Who cares! We rarely get the chance to do this, Charlie, and it’s quite clearly a snow day. Sounds like all the kids are outside, so who says we can’t sack off a bit of work too?” She lifts her head up and winks. He knows it’s futile to argue or resist the tempting way she’s poking her leg out.

Her knickers soon fall to the carpet as she arches an eyebrow. “It’ll be fun, I promise.”

He sighs, not in frustration but at how Anna manages to make him go from zero to hard in seconds. A skill of hers that makes disagreeing with her very difficult.

“You’re a bad influence, you know that, right?” he jokes, climbing back to the warm haven of duvets and Anna’s soft bare skin. She rolls onto him and pushes her thighs down on either side into the cushiony sofa.

“But you love it.”

Pretending to shake his head, Charlie laughs, gives in again as her hands wildly snake down past his hips.

“I do. I really,
really
do.”

Chapter Twelve

Anna

May 2
nd
2009

With a hand stuck deep inside the abyss of her bulky bag in the vain attempt to find her purse, Anna groans loudly and immediately feels bad.

“I’m sorry.” She hears Charlie sigh, his voice low and real quiet. Embarrassment floods his cheeks like usual and she wishes she’d kept a secure lid on her frustration.

In the queue behind them a young couple pretends to point at the chalkboard menu and avoids eye contact. Anna’s aware they’re likely embarrassed by her snap reaction too.

Finding her purse, she hands over her bankcard to the cashier. “It’s fine, Charlie, I’ll get it.”

She knows that just because he’s looking down at his own card with intensity doesn’t mean money’s going to magically appear on it. The search within his jean pockets comes up empty too and it means she’ll be the one paying for lunch, again.

Anna takes their drinks and heads out from under the café’s awning, wanting the sun back on her face and shoulders. Enjoying the warm weather that’s come in time for the long May bank holiday. She’s thankful too for the lighter evenings and the feeling of blood flow back in her hands and feet. It really had been a long and bitter winter.

“Tell me how much it was and I’ll pay you back as soon as I’ve got a little more on me, okay?” Charlie says, his eyes sincere as they take a seat at a table on the Heath overlooking the whole city as it buzzes with the promise of a warm springtime.

“Don’t worry about it.”

“I’ll pay you back. I promise.”

“It’s fine.”

Anna knows he’ll worry regardless, because she will too and she knows that the glasses of orange juice and plates of crusty white sandwiches will keep playing on her mind. Like the dinner she’d forked out for the week before or the cinema tickets or the picnic for Easter down by the river.

It’s not the best time to bring it up but it’s got a hold of her mind and so she casually asks between sips of juice if Charlie’s heard back from last week’s job interview.

When he just sighs and pushes up his sleeves, she’s certain it’s bad news. “They called this morning, actually.”

“And?”

“Didn’t get it.”

“Oh. I’m sorry, babe, that’s not something you want to hear before the weekend, is it?” She smiles, trying to be nice so thoughts of just how awful her bank statement will look at the end of her month don’t ruin their day out.

“I expected it, really. The guy interviewing didn’t seem impressed or interested. Was a shit job anyway, so I don’t really mind.”

“Jobs’ a job though, Charlie. Sure you’ll hear back from those others you applied for soon enough,” she tells him, even if he’s probably right that the data entry position he’d gone in for was pretty terrible and underpaid. Still, she feels like keeping him focused is a responsibility she has to shoulder.

“Can we not talk about it anymore, please? Not today, it’s supposed to be our one weekend of workless fun.”

Anna nods and lets it go, although her mind still mentally stores the conversation for another time. “You’re right, it is, and I’m so excited. Long, lazy weekend without work and with great weather.”

“It’s gotten so hot.” He laughs, finding her hand under the wooden table. His palm sticks to hers.

She lifts up a finger to jokily warn him. “Don’t you dare say it. Don’t! I can’t tell you the amount of times I’ve heard it said this week. Drives me nuts.”

Calling her bluff, he leans back and places one hand behind the mess of his gloriously light hair and grins. “You mean, it feels like that ‘heat wave’ we’re supposed to get?”

“
Charlie
.”

“Anna, I must say it feels like there might be the strong chance of a
heat wave
this weekend.” He chuckles, trying to get a playful rise. She softly kicks him in the shin.

“Yeah yeah, it’s warm, I get it, but it’s not blisteringly hot. I swear people act like they’ve never seen a bit of sun before.” She laughs back, careful to wipe away the tiny beads of sweat from her forehead so that he won’t see she’s just another sweaty hypocrite.

“So what have you got in store for us then, tonight I mean?” he asks, finishing up his sandwich. Anna realises she hasn’t even touched hers, too busy joking to even take a bite. Caught in a battle between admiring his blue eyes and cheeky smile and thinking about money and his lack thereof.

“Once we’re done here you’ll find out. I need to pop into a supermarket before we head back to mine, though.”

“Sounds intriguing.”

If only he knew
, she thinks, remembering just what lies in store for them both, tucked away in her sock drawer. Daisy has come to her rescue once again, after she lamented the fact that her and Charlie couldn’t afford to partake in all the bank holiday festivities lined up. Like joining friends at the pub to drink away the sunny weekend or the road trip to the countryside to stay in a cottage.

To his credit, Charlie has insisted on sticking to soft drinks to save pennies, but she knows that is about as likely as winning the lottery so she has taken matters into her own hands.

Anna asked Daisy if there were other ways to occupy the time, with a slight nod and wink. A day later, true to form, Daisy had dropped something into her bag outside work and told her to walk home instead of getting the Tube.
Just to be on the safe side.

Back in the safety of her bedroom, she had hidden the Tupperware box under a pile of socks and made a shopping list. Just the thought of it had her giggling and she hopes Charlie will feel the same. Envisioning a weekend spent laughing, eating junk food, lounging out in the sun.

“It’s all kinds of intriguing, mister, but you won’t find out till later,” Anna says. “Got to keep things interesting, haven’t we?”

He leans forward and his kiss lingers on the warm side of her neck. It leaves her hot and just a bit bothered.

“It’s—before you say otherwise, Charlie—not because of the heat wave, but heat does do something to me, you know?” She giggles, pulling at his hand, fanning out the light fabric of her dress. “Makes me come over all flush.”

“It’s the biceps, isn’t it?” he jokes. “All this flesh out on display, you just can’t resist. I know. I know.”

“Modest much?” She laughs, tearing at her sandwich crust to throw a piece to the birds swarming the table, trying to steal bread.

The edges of her picked-apart cheese and pickle sandwich soon start to melt and sweat in the heat, and she moves her seat closer to Charlie’s so she can watch the brave swimmers in the wild pond.

“I love this place,” she sighs, eyes cast out to the sandy ridges of the Heath and the vast open space of wonderfully preserved paradise.

As Charlie’s bare arm brushes close and their mutual warmth spreads like wildfire, she realises that she’s been really damn unkind. Worrying too much about trivial money matters to see that the best things in life are almost always free. Like the view before them or the rays of light coating the city down below.

Like Charlie and his wonderful smile. How it isn’t all so bad.

Anna’s more optimistic trail of thought lingers as they leave the Heath and head back into town, passing through high streets filled with Morris dancers. Their bell pads on shins calling out, the handkerchiefs and brightly coloured ribbons signalling for them to stop and watch.

With Charlie by her side, she looks up and feels a swell rise up in her chest. Lost in the moment of ease. Carefree without anywhere urgent to be. She adores the way he taps his foot on the pavement in sync with the music and how he swings her hand back and forth.

It’s not that the thought hadn’t crossed her mind, or that she’s never said it or felt it before, but in this moment Anna knows that she definitely loves him. Feels it in her bones and can’t always explain the many different ways in which she does.

She figures there are far too many.

“What are you giggling about now, you loon?” Charlie sighs as she pulls his hand. When they reach a small supermarket she instructs for him to wait outside.

She races through the aisles with determination, picking up snacks and supplies. When she returns he’s got his back to the window, black shades on.

“That was quick, suspiciously so, Anna.”

“I know. Got exactly what we need, though.” She holds up the large plastic bag as proof.

“Is all that for the so-called ‘surprise’?”

“Maybe…” She can’t help but giggle again, thinks she’s not even gotten to the surprise part and yet she feels high on life already. Giddy with excitement.

Raising her eyebrows with a sly wink, she links his arm and smiles. “You’ll see, Charlie. Don’t you worry.”

***

Charlie

Watching the smoke softly dance up from the small space between Anna’s lips causes Charlie’s stomach to flip.

There’s something quite startling but also strangely seductive in witnessing her light up the white tapered joint and take a long drag. Like she’s done it a hundred times before, even though he knows smoking isn’t one of her usual vices.

“It tastes different to how I remember it being back in college,” she says with a small cough. “Actually, about a year ago I went to a party with Daisy and we smoked what we thought was just a cigarette. We both couldn’t stop laughing all the way home after, and then we realised we’d been tricked.”

“I can imagine.”

“Although this is making my throat itch more than I thought it would.”

Charlie smiles, still watching as she tries to blow out rings of smoke. He marvels at how the sun glows behind her. Fiery orange in its setting as they sit outside in the small garden, indulging in Anna’s surprise.

Earlier when she’d led him out the patio doors to reveal a small Tupperware container set on the garden table, with two perfectly rolled, herb-infused joints in it, he thought she might be pulling his leg. It turns out she wasn’t.

“Are you sure Jaz isn’t coming back tonight?” he asks when she passes the joint to him. It smells familiar, conjures up a déjà vu back to when his old University flatmate spent his entire student loan on a backpack full of weed. Fond memories of hotboxing their shared bathroom floods back, as does the image of Paul crying all night after because he couldn’t feel his pulse until he sobered up.

It has been forever a benchmark to which Charlie measures excess—a cautionary tale that has stopped him from doing the same again.

“Chill out.” Anna giggles. The pupils of her brown eyes are larger, along with her grin. “She’s away at her fiancé’s parents’ house for the weekend. Not back till Tuesday, baby.”

He wonders how on earth she got hold of good seriously potent weed as he takes in a substantial hit. “Just to clarify, this is the ‘surprise,’ right?”

“I know it’s crazy, but I thought that if you, sorry, I mean both of us can’t afford to properly go out this weekend, then we should still be able to have fun. Do something
else
,” she says, her eyes watching the embers as they fall and turn to ash on the table.

“No, it’s fine. I just didn’t take you for much of stoner, that’s all.”

“I’m not.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Charlie’s throat begins to feel tight and a cloudy film forms over his eyes. The sensation hits him and a part of him has missed it without even really knowing it.

“
Hah hah
. Look, I thought it might be a good laugh, that’s all. Not like we’re going to start doing this every day, is it? You need to chill out, dude,” Anna drawls, mocking him whilst turning up the music on the small stereo she’s made him bring outside, to enhance the vibes supposedly.

“I’m not even going to ask where you got this from.” He grins, holding up the half-smoked joint. The paper feels soft against his fingertips, and as he holds in a throatful of the white smoke she tries to pinch it from his grip.

“Daisy. Who else?” she replies, matter of fact. “She’s the best.”

Lips turning into a hazy smile, he admires her bare shoulders and the way her oversized t-shirt hangs off. Her hair’s up in a messy ponytail and she looks relaxed, happy, and free. It suits her.

“Of course, who else?”

“I don’t actually know where
she
got it from, but who cares?”

“It’s good,” he says, passing it back. He feels like it’s the right moment to retrieve his guitar from inside. When he returns to the garden it’s much colder. Anna’s wrapped in a yellow blanket, legs crossed on her chair. Looking more beautiful than ever.

Fiddling with the tuning and strings, he asks if he can turn down the music for a bit.

“Sure, so long as you play something decent.”

“When do I not?” he jokes.

Anna in her makeshift warmth stubs out the end of the joint into a plant pot and kicks her bare feet up onto the table. The painted colour of her nails matches the vibrant peonies that hang from the whitewashed brick walls.