Charlie: Chapter 1

“Is this a joke?” I leaned over and hissed in Rob’s ear. I tried to keep my voice low but it was difficult when all I could hear was the sound of my heart thundering in my chest.

He turned to look at me, saw the crumpled piece of paper in my hand, and looked confused. He glanced up at the front of the room where people were shuffling into their seats before shaking his head.

“Not now,” he said.

Before I could argue, he’d turned round and was following the other mourners again. For the briefest of moments, as the organ started belching out its somber tones, I thought I might be sick. Being back in that place was horrible enough anyway but now this. I shoved the paper back in my pocket then felt myself stumble slightly as we edged forwards. Before I could get myself into any real trouble though, Rob’s hand was on my arm.

“You okay?” He leaned in, whispering in my ear.

I nodded, not wanting to risk words. I couldn’t be sure how my voice would come out and the last thing I wanted was brave and strong policeman Rob thinking I was having a breakdown. I was meant to be there to support him, it was the only reason I’d even agreed to come. I tried not to think about the last time I’d been there. Dad’s funeral. I shivered. There was something about the place. Every tiny insignificant detail I thought I’d erased from my memory came flooding back. The smell. The way the light came through the huge window at the front. The look on the vicar’s face as he stood there, watching everyone come in. The sound the rails made after the curtains closed. My sister had sworn she could hear the sound of the furnace but I refused to think about it, she always did have an overactive imagination. I shoved the scrap of paper back into my pocket and sat down. As I did so, I caught the vicar’s eye and felt my face flush with shame. Passing notes probably wasn’t the done thing in a place like this and he’d caught me red handed.

Half an hour later and it was all over. I stood next to Rob as we dutifully filed past the grieving widow.

“I’m sorry for you loss,” I heard him say.

I just nodded and moved along behind him. I didn’t feel compelled to say anything and let the man behind me speak to her instead.

It wasn’t until we were walking back to Rob’s car that I spoke. “You okay?”

The man had been Rob’s tutor-constable when he’d first joined the police. He hadn’t seen him for a few years but I knew they’d kept in touch at Christmas with the obligatory cards and promises to catch up soon for a pint. They never seemed to quite manage to make it to the pub though and now of course it was too late.

Rob nodded. “Thanks for coming Charlie. I know it’s not easy for you.”

I smiled. “What are friends for?”

I wanted to take back the words almost as soon as I’d said them. As much as I tried to keep my tone light, I knew we were definitely more than just friends. The problem was, our relationship was still new, we hadn’t exactly defined it yet, so I automatically found myself slipping into friends mode, especially when faced with stressful situations.

Thankfully, Rob knew what I was like, the emotional baggage I still carried as a result of my fidelity-challenged ex-husband. “Friends with benefits maybe?” His eyes twinkled. “You got time for lunch or do you need to get home?”

“You don’t want to go to the thing?” I gestured in the direction of the funeral party. “We can if you want to, it’s no problem.”

I had no desire to spend the next couple of hours exchanging small talk with people I didn’t know and would likely never see again but I felt like it was only right to at least show willing.

“I think I’ll give it a miss. Some of the lads are going but I’ve done my bit.”

“In that case, I think lunch sounds lovely, thanks!”

He drove us over the bridge and soon pulled into the carpark of a little pub I’d never been to before. I followed him along a dark corridor until we were back outside in the sunshine in the beer garden.

“Pick a table, I’ll grab us drinks and menus.”

By the time Rob came back, menus tucked under his arm, I’d taken the piece of paper from earlier back out of my pocket and was peering at it intently.

Rob sighed. “Come on then, let’s get it over with.”

I gave him a puzzled look.

He pointed to the paper. “What’s all this about?”

“I was hoping you might be able to tell me.” I’d not yet convinced myself that this was nothing more than one of his elaborate wind up routines, although if it was, it was in very poor taste.

“Me? What did I do?” He took the paper from me and read it. “Where’s Loches?”

“France.” I’d had a chance to Google it while he’d been getting the drinks.

“Thought it sounded Scottish.” He shrugged. “And whose address is this?”

“Dunno.”

“Why are you getting your knickers in such a twist then?” He smiled at me, apparently keen to try and brighten my mood but it was going to take more than Rob’s charm to win me over.

“You don’t recognise the handwriting do you?”

He shook his head. “Should I?”

Of course he wouldn’t recognise it. It belonged to a man he’d never even met, but I was playing for time.

“It’s my dad’s.”

I watched as his mouth dropped towards his chest. He might have never met my dad but he knew enough about him to understand that this was a big deal.

“You sure?” He hesitated, trying to find the right words. “But your dad’s …”

“Dead. Yeah I know. So how did this piece of paper with his handwriting get into my coat pocket?”

Rob looked uncomfortable. “No idea.” He fidgeted for a moment before speaking again. “There’s probably loads of people with writing the same. What makes you so sure this was him?”

I pointed at a squiggle under one of the letters. “See this little flick here? He always did that. Every time.”

Rob squinted at the paper. “Looks like a three to me.”

“Exactly! It was just a little quirk of his. Said he did it to make himself stand out from everybody else.”

Rob shrugged. “I guess he must have written it then.”

“I knew it!” I felt like kissing him or leaping up and down punching the air. I managed to restrain myself though and instead simply smiled. “Which leads to my initial question. How did it get in my pocket?”

Rob smiled. “Any theories?”

I shook my head. “I was a bit shocked to see it. Not got as far as figuring out details yet.”

Rob’s eyes narrowed and he put his hand on my forehead. “That’s not like you. You feeling okay?”

I swiped his hand away. “Ha bloody ha! Obviously someone must have put it there. Someone other than my dad I mean.”

“How can you be so sure? Maybe your dad put it there, years ago obviously, and it’s been there the whole time, just waiting for you to find it?”

I shook my head and felt tears prick my eyes. “Dad never saw this coat.” I could hear the wobble in my voice. “I bought it for his funeral.”

“I’m sorry Charlie.” He reached across the table and squeezed my hand.

I wiped the tears away with the back of my hand and smiled brightly. “Anyway, didn’t you say something about lunch? I’m starving.”

I could tell from the look of concern on Rob’s face that he wasn’t buying it. I knew he’d want to ask me questions, get me to talk about it. After nearly a decade, it should have been easier by now but seeing his handwriting there on the page just brought the whole thing come crashing back to reality. I didn’t want to talk about it, and certainly not in the middle of a pub beer garden. 

“You’ll have to face it at some point Charlie, sooner or later. You know that don’t you?” Rob’s voice was gentle.

“I know. But if it’s all the same to you, I’d prefer to make it later. Let’s just enjoy a nice lunch, you can tell me stories about your tutor constable, and we’ll deal with the rest of it another day. Alright?”

I looked Rob squarely in the eyes, daring him to refuse, but he didn’t. Not for the first time, I found myself thankful for his need to please attitude. It certainly made life simpler.

He nodded and picked up a menu. “What do you fancy?”

And we spent the next couple of hours relaxing in the warm afternoon sunshine. To look at the two of us, you’d think we didn’t have a care in the world. It was about halfway down the second glass of wine that I decided what I needed to do next. There was only one person I could talk to about my father and I knew it wasn’t going to be easy. I’d have to go fully prepared. I drained my glass and asked Rob to take me home.