Chapter 8

As soon as we were back in the hotel room, I pulled out my phone, did a quick calculation and decided that Charlie, thrilled though she’d probably be to hear from me, probably would be less thrilled at five thirty am, and put it away again.

“What’s wrong?” Cal asked.

“Nothing,” I replied, “I was going to ring Charlie, but then I realised that it’s only five thirty over there, and I don’t think she’d be in a good mood being woken at that time.”

“I know I wouldn’t,” she agreed.

“I’ll try in a couple of hours,” I said, “are you hungry?”

“Ravenous,” she replied.

I picked up the room service menu from the table beside my chair and held it up.

“Room service or go out?”

“Room service,” she replied.

I passed her the menu to choose from and waited until she made a choice.

In the end we settled for chicken curry and rice. I tended to stick to chicken, turkey or pork in America, since they don’t allow hormones in those meats.

While I ordered the food, Cal took the TV remote and turned the set on, looking through the on-screen guide to find something that might be remotely worth watching.

“The Princess Bride,” she squealed, “I love that film, and it starts in like ten minutes.”

It wasn’t a film I liked, but, I sat through it, and it did have a few funny moments, but Cal obviously enjoyed it. While it was on, we ate our food, and washed it down with a couple of bottles of diet Pepsi from the room fridge.

“What now?” Cal asked as I came back from pushing the dinner trolley out into the corridor.

“I’m going to ring Charlie and let you talk to her,” I replied.

“Can’t you ask her?” she asked.

“I can,” I replied, “but I think it’s important that you’re the one to do it.”

“Okay,” she agreed, not sounding at all enthusiastic.

I pulled my phone out of my pocket and punched in Charlie’s mobile number.

She answered on the second ring.

“This is Charlie,” she said, “speak.”

“And hello to you too, sweetheart,” I replied.

“David,” she squealed, “I was just thinking about you.”

“That’s nice,” I said, “something good I hope?”

“Well the TV over here has caught a story about a pair of schoolkids from Yorkshire, who have run away. Apparently, the girl was being held in a secure mental unit, went home for Christmas and failed to come back, and that sounded like Cal, and it sounded like the sort of quixotic, romantic thing you’d do.”

“I can’t either confirm or deny that,” I replied, “but I have someone with me who’d like to talk to you.”

“Well, put her on then, and David,” Charlie replied, “If she’s going to ask me what I think she is, I’ll tell you now, the answer is yes.”

I handed the phone silently to Cal, then wandered off to the other room to give her some privacy.

She came in twenty minutes later and handed me the phone.

“She wants to talk to you now,” Cal said.

“Hi,” I said, when Cal left the room, “I’ve missed you.”

“Oh I don’t know about that, sounds like you’ve had an exciting few days.”

“I suppose you could say that,” I said, “oh for the life of a wanted international fugitive from Justice.”

“International?” she queried, “where exactly are you?”

“I’m sorry, Charlie, I can’t tell you that,” I replied, “it’s actually better that you don’t know.”

“Yes, I can see that,” she said, “do you know what Cal asked me?”

“I know what she was supposed to ask you,” I replied, “but since I wasn’t in the room, I don’t know what she actually said.”

“Basically, that she asked you for the same thing I did in Manchester,” she replied, “and that you told her, that you’d feel as if you were cheating on me and that you would never do that, but that if I said you could then you would.”

“Near enough, I believe what I actually said was that if you said yes, I’d consider it,” I replied, “but close enough. And did you?”

“Not exactly, not yet,” she replied, “although I will. But I wanted to talk to you first.”

“What about?” I asked.

“You and me,” she replied.

“That doesn’t sound good,” I said.

“It shouldn’t sound bad,” she replied, “David I love you,” she said, in a very matter of fact tone, “that’s fact. But I have my career and you have school and yours. I don’t know when I’ll be back in England, nor, by the looks of things do you, but I do know that it will be at least three months.”

“You’re staying longer with your Dad?”

“No although I would love to, his new family is great, I don’t feel at all like an interloper or a guest, I’m just daughter and big sister, and the kids are absolutely the greatest. No, I’ve got a part in a TV series, three months with an option for extension, so it could be a long time before we could be together again.”

“So you’re finishing with me?” I asked.

“No David,” she replied, “I’ll never do that. But we’ve never talked about exclusivity, and I think it would be stupid if I tried to tie you down to that now, so David, I’m giving you blanket permission, until we’re together again to be with whoever you want. We’ll talk about anything else when we’re both in the same room.”

“Are you sure?” I asked.

“It’s the only fair thing to do,” she replied.

“All right then, I give you the same permission,” I said.

“I don’t think that will be necessary,” she answered, “I don’t think I’ll have time for anything but work.”

“Where will you be working?” I asked.

“The USA,” she replied, “I’m flying out on Wednesday.”

“Oh, great,” I said.

We talked for another ten minutes and then said our goodbyes and I walked through and handed the phone back to Cal.

Five minutes later, Cal ended the call and then launched herself at me.

“She said yes,” she squealed as she landed on me, her arms round my neck and her legs round my waist.

“Actually,” I said, “she gave me blanket permission to be with anyone I liked until we get together again.”

“But that will be months away,” she said.

“Cal,” I said, a warning note in my voice.

She looked at me grief-stricken.

“I’m sorry,” she said, “I’m being selfish again aren’t I?”

I just looked at her, saying nothing.

“I’m sorry. But can we talk about what I asked you?”

“Of course we can,” I replied, “that’s why you were talking to Charlie remember?”

“Well, she said yes, and you said that if she did that we could talk about it.”

“I did,” I agreed.

“So, can we talk about it?”

“Of course we can,” I answered, “what is it you want, Cal?”

“I want you to show me, no remind me, what it’s like to be loved,” she said, “and not just fucked.”

“And?” I queried.

“And what?” she asked.

“What do you really want Cal, long term?”

“Right now,” she replied, “if I could have anything I wanted in the world, I’d hear a klaxon, then a blue police box would appear in the corner of the room, and this time lord would pop out and take me back six months, so I could stop myself getting on that plane to Munich.”

“I wish you could too, Cal, but given that you can’t, what are you really after.”

“David, I know that Charlie asked you to show her that it is possible to be loved, and not just fucked,” she said, “all I ask is that you do that for me too. Maybe after that, I’ll be able to move forward, whether that’s with you, or I go out and find someone else, but at the moment, all I know about love, is bad. It’s dirty, and degrading and I don’t want it to be that. I want to be able to love and be loved. With ALL that entails.”

“Cal,” I said, looking her in the eyes as I started, “I don’t think you realise how many people love you.”

“No, they don’t, everybody thinks I’m just a single minded selfish, immature bitch.”

“Up until you used that last word,” I began, “I agreed with you. Substitute girl for bitch and you’re right. Everybody does, well, with the possible exception of your mother.”

“I think even she does,” she said, a sad expression on her face.

“Then what do you intend to do to change their minds?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” she said softly, “I just don’t know.”

“Cal, it’s easy,” I said, “just be yourself. Look, you have these two burning ambitions right?”

“Yes, you know I do.”

“And, if you don’t achieve either of them, or even if you only achieve one of them, how many people will die as a result?”

“None,” she said, crestfallen.

“So,” I continued, “it’s not a life ending tragedy if you don’t become a great opera star?”

“I suppose not, no,” she agreed.

“Then what if you do all the training, and spend a long career in the chorus of one of the world’s great opera houses? You’ll still be doing what you love, singing. Would that be so bad?”

“It wouldn’t be the star though,” she objected.

“Cal, don’t get me wrong, I think you have a glorious voice, and a lot of talent, but so have a lot of other people. You may ultimately have to settle for second best.”

“Says the boy who’s going to be a big film star,” she said, sourly.

“No, Cal,” I replied, “says the boy who’ll make films until he’s finished school and goes to University. I want a career where I can be assured that it will last until I retire. Where I’ll know that I’ll be a able to support a wife and family. All I want to do is design and develop computer systems, I’m never going to be a big star, but I’ll be the best actor I can be until I give that up and then I’ll be the best computer geek I can be. And the best husband and father.”

“So you’re saying I should let go of my ambition?” she asked.

“No,” I replied, “I’m saying you shouldn’t let your ambition become the only thing that matters in your life. There are other things that should be important.”

“But,” she began.

“Cal, let me ask you something,” I said, “your two ambitions are to marry me and be the best opera singer in the world right?”