One Night Only. Sue Welfare
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between Jean the florist’s and Ross’s camera shop, she would find her real self still working at Finton’s Finest Toys, still unpacking the new deliveries out in the stockroom while Harry checked them off the delivery note. And then there were Charlotte and Harry.
Bon, not privy to her thoughts, put an arm around her waist and pulled her tight up against him. She could feel the fingers of his other hand brushing her hair; feel the warmth of his strong muscular body; and she lay so still that she could pick out the beat of his heart. Whatever happened, whatever Arthur said, and even if it all ended tomorrow, being with Bon in that moment was the best thing that had ever happened to her; she had never felt so loved or so wanted in her whole life.
‘I love you,’ he murmured into her neck, as if he had read her thoughts.
Safe with Bon’s arms around her, lulled by the gentle rhythmic sounds of his breathing, Helen realised just how tired she was. She closed her eyes, finally letting sleep wash over her like a warm sea, and did not fight it as she sank into unconsciousness.
FIVE
The Talent Contest
‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen the Carlton Rooms this busy. We’re never going to get parked in their car park, it’s heaving. Look at it –’ said Harry, throwing his arm casually over the passenger seat so he could look back over his shoulder to reverse his Mini back out into the road. ‘We’ll have to go round again – or maybe it would be easier if I just parked down on the quay and we walked back?’
He didn’t say I told you so to Charlotte, for which Helen was grateful. The last half hour had been a nightmare – Charlotte had taken forever to finish getting ready, dithering about whether they should go to the theatre in their costumes or take their outfits along on hangers and change when they got there, whether they should wear long boots or the high-heeled sandals that they had both bought the previous week, and if they went with the sandals should they stop off and get some proper tights somewhere instead of the fishnets that Charlotte had insisted that they needed the day before. And then, just when Helen thought they were ready, Charlotte had begun a big debate with Harry about the songs they had been working on for the last few weeks. Did the look they had gone with suit the music they had chosen? And then, when they had finally squashed everything into Harry’s car they had got snarled up in late afternoon traffic, and had crept nose to tail towards the town centre – and now it had started to rain.
The whole of Billingsfield seemed much busier than was usual for a Friday – every junction was gridlocked, every set of traffic lights red – as they got closer to the town centre. There were roadworks in the High Street and a diversion running around by Railway Road that slowed the cars down to a snail’s pace – and so now they were running late, and Charlotte was getting more and more annoyed.
She was sitting in the front passenger seat, alongside Harry, her vanity case balanced on her knees, her hair perfect, her makeup immaculate, looking as if she had just stepped out of the pages of a magazine fashion shoot, while Helen was squashed up in the back seat of the car with the costumes and bags and a cardboard box of flyers for the shop and Charlotte’s suitcase, her knees folded up to her chest. Helen had known from the outset that there was no chance she’d be sitting in the front; Charlotte wouldn’t have dreamt of sitting in the back. And there was no way they could put anything in the boot because that was packed full of stock and bits of a display stand for some sort of new doll that Harry’s dad had bought at the wholesalers.
‘Do you think we should have worn hot-pants?’ Charlotte was saying as Harry tried his best to manoeuvre his way backwards out of the car park, through the people and traffic. ‘I saw some in Swanley’s department store last week. I was thinking if we get through to the national finals that we really ought to get some. They would make more of a splash, make us stand out a bit more, wouldn’t they? What do you think?’
‘Certainly would,’ said Harry. ‘Especially with your boots,’ and then to Helen, he said, ‘Can you just tell me if anything’s coming? Only I can’t see round those people on the kerb.’
‘We can’t do anything about the costumes now,’ continued Charlotte, apparently oblivious to all the manoeuvring. ‘Although if we win tonight we could. I was thinking we could nip in on Monday and get ourselves a pair. What do you think, Helen? Could you nip in first thing?’
‘Whoa,’ shouted Helen to Harry. ‘Hang on, there’s a blue car right behind us, Harry. He looks like he wants to get into the car park too.’
‘Well, good luck to him,’ sighed Harry. ‘He can have a go if he’ll just let me out.’
‘I don’t think he’s going anywhere,’ said Helen nervously. ‘There’s another one pulled in right behind him.’
‘This is ridiculous,’ Charlotte grumbled, sighing heavily. ‘We’re going to be late now …’
The cars were nose to tail. The car behind Harry honked as Harry tried to reverse out, and then honked his horn again because Harry couldn’t go forward either.
‘I’ll just have to drive in, get past these cars, and turn around. But don’t worry, we’ve still got plenty of time; it’ll be fine, there’s bound to be somewhere down on the quay.’
‘We can’t do that, we can’t park too far away,’ complained Charlotte. ‘It’s nearly half past now and it’s raining out there. My hair will be completely ruined if it gets wet. It’s taken me hours to get these curls right. And there is no way I’m going to be able to walk back from the quay in these shoes. Why can’t we just stop here?’
‘Because we can’t. I’m totally blocking the entrance.’
A stream of people were crossing the road in front of Harry, while beyond them a white Transit van had pulled up outside the back of the theatre. People started piling out of the back, carrying boxes and bags in through the stage doors, so that Harry couldn’t move forwards or backwards. Helen glanced back over her shoulder; they were well and truly stuck. The sounds of horns honking were slowly spreading further back down the queue.
‘Tell you what, why don’t I just jump out here and go in and let them know that we’ve arrived?’ said Charlotte, pushing the car door open as she spoke. ‘I’ll sign us in. Sort out where the dressing rooms are and everything.’
‘But what about all the stuff?’ protested Helen, looking around at the pile of things on the back seat.
‘Oh, you’ll be fine,’ said Charlotte casually, waving her protest away. ‘And anyway Harry will help you bring it in, won’t you, Harry? I mean it’s not like there’s that much, and I don’t want them to think we haven’t turned up or anything. I’ll see you in there in a minute, and don’t forget the costumes. Don’t be long, will you? I don’t want to be singing out there all on my own.’
Watching Charlotte picking her across the cobbles towards the theatre Helen wondered if that wasn’t exactly what Charlotte wanted. As she made her way up the steps towards the foyer Charlotte didn’t even look back.
‘Do you want to get out here too?’ asked Harry. ‘I’d be happy to bring the things in once I’ve found somewhere to park. Go on, out you get. I’ll be fine.’
‘You’ll never be able to carry all this lot on your own.’
He grinned. ‘Don’t worry about it. I’ll make two trips if I need to. Go on, just hop out here. I really don’t mind. And Charlotte is right, you don’t want to be late for your big night, do you?’
Helen hesitated long enough for the car behind to honk again.
‘Are you sure you’ll be all right, Harry?’ she asked.
Ahead of them the Transit van finally moved off.
Harry nodded. ‘Of course I will. Stop fussing. Oh, hang on – just let me just pull in to the side over there so I can get out of the way of this moron behind me and then you can get out, okay? Before Charlotte decides to go solo. Oh, and you’ll