Page 15 of Charlie Sunshine (Close Proximity #2)

“Libraries are about a tad more than books.” Charlie’s voice is so dry that it probably needs its own drink.

“Some people have never used a computer in their lives, and some older women have never even used the phone because their husbands always did it for them. So a machine won’t exactly help with any of that.

It also won’t provide a cup of tea and a kind word for a library user who can’t afford to heat their home because their pension doesn’t stretch to silly fripperies like heat.

They’re usually even more grateful for the kind word because, you see, some old people, unlike socialites, don’t see a soul all day.

” His tone becomes biting, and his face cold.

“Libraries are about much more than just computers and books and shushing. If we spent our time shushing people, we’d be showering them in spit for twelve hours a day what with all the noisy things that go on in a library.

Like the memory group for people with dementia, the knit and natter groups, the computer education classes for people just out of prison, the story times for children.

All of that accompanied by the thundering sound of the photocopier which is probably older than the building itself given the council’s propensity for cutting corners on library budgets.

But hey, you don’t need to worry about that because you’re rich.

I understand that. But I hope you never lose your job or your daddy’s company goes bust because you might need a library then.

Jobcentres are very fond of telling people to come to libraries for services that they should already be providing, and it’s a librarian who’ll have to help you.

That’s if you haven’t torn down the library to make houses for professionals . ”

There’s a long stunned silence which I break by clapping. “That was like a lion taking down a hamster,” I say cheerfully, and Charlie’s stern face breaks into a smile.

“Shall we go to the club?” one of the posh girls asks frigidly. I can’t remember her name—Hetty or Vexed or Catastrophically Boring. There’s an instant murmur of agreement, and everyone stands up and starts to leave the room, eager to get away from the stroppy librarian.

What occurs next happens very quickly. Charlie gets halfway across the floor to the door and then stops dead with a fixed expression on his face.

“Shit,” I mutter and push my way through the group.

I’m not there in time to catch him before he falls, but I am in time to see him fall towards Harry, who quite deliberately steps back.

Charlie crashes to the floor, and I skid to a stop next to him.

Rage burns in me, but I push it down so I can help Charlie.

“Get back, please,” I order the group as they all crouch over him, staring at him like he’s on the Paris catwalk. “Give him some space.”

“What’s the matter with him?” the redhead says. “Is he pissed?” She shakes her head. “That would explain a lot.”

“Don’t be so fucking stupid,” I snap, and she recoils. “He has epilepsy. He’s having a seizure.”

I pull off my jacket to cover Charlie and then look around to check that there’s nothing he can bang his head on. I’m just pushing a chair away when Jamie crouches down next to me.

“Shit,” he says, patting Charlie’s hand gently. “Is he in pain? He’s making a noise.”

That noise is a low keening sound. It always sends the hairs up on the back of my neck, but I have to tell myself that he’s fine. “He’s okay,” I say. “He won’t remember anything afterwards. It’s just a noise that a lot of people make during a seizure.” I check my watch and note the time.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

“Timing the seizure.”

“Why?”

“Because if it lasts over five minutes, we’ll have to call an ambulance.”

“Fuck.” He looks panicked. “Has that happened before?”

I shake my head. “No, but he’s not been well lately.”

Jamie looks around at his friends who are still staring and muttering. “Off you go,” he says, an unusual note of command in his voice. “It’s not London Zoo.” The group mutters but disperses quickly, and I smile at him in gratitude.

I stroke Charlie’s hair back as he judders, his heels drumming on the floor.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” I say to him. “I’m here.

” He’s oblivious, but I always talk to him and stroke his hair as if he knows I’m here.

It might be that a tiny part of his brain is aware, and he won’t feel so alone, so I’ll always do it.

I catch the expression of disgust on Harry’s face as he stares down at Charlie. He must sense my gaze because he looks up and stills before having the grace to flush. “I think you should go,” I say sternly, and he swallows hard before nodding and exiting the room.

I look down at my watch. “Three minutes, sunshine,” I say to my best friend. “Get it done now, Charlie.”

The juddering carries on, his teeth clenched.

“You’re so calm,” Jamie says. “How many of these have you seen?”

“Far too fucking many.” I stroke the long waves of Charlie’s hair back. They’re soft as silk on my fingers. “I’ve hated every fucking one,” I confide, looking up at Jamie.

He’s sitting next to Charlie, stroking his arm. He nods sadly. “I don’t blame you. I don’t like seeing him like this. It’s so unfair.” He pauses. “I thought you had to put something between his teeth?”

I smile. “Shit, no. Not unless you’ve got a useless finger and fancy losing it.”

He gives a sad smile, and we watch as the seizure loses force, and the juddering gradually stops.

“Okay, babe,” I say briskly. “Over on your side.” I help him into the recovery position and look at Jamie. “Can you grab a blanket from somewhere? He’s always cold when he comes round.”

He nods and dashes out of the room, and I crouch next to Charlie, still stroking his hair. “Come on back now, sunshine.”

His eyes flutter, and then I’m looking into the bleary blue eyes of the person who means the most to me in the whole world.

“Hey, you,” I say softly.

He looks around, and I hate the almost hopeless look of resignation in his eyes. It doesn’t sit well on Charlie’s face. He’s made for sunshine and smiles. “Shit, I had a turn.”

“You did,” I say briskly. “And thankfully you’ve got us out of going to a nightclub tonight with people who are by and large less educated than a bunch of babies. So, well done, you.”

“Don’t be nasty,” he whispers with a half-smile.

I roll my eyes. “There’s more inbreeding in this group than at Crufts.”

His pale lips quirk, and then he sighs. “Tell me the truth. Did I piss myself or worse?”

“Nope, but don’t worry, the night is still young,” I say, pinning a smile on my face when I just want to cry. To hug him close and keep him safe and weep.

He starts to struggle up, and I help him, bolstering his body when he falters. “I’m as weak as a kitten,” he says, staggering slightly as he gets to his feet. He shivers violently, and I look up in relief as Jamie tears into the room with his arms full of blankets.

“Jesus, how many have you got?” I say.

“I got different thicknesses so he can decide which one feels best on his skin.” He looks at Charlie. “Oh, I’m so glad you’re up again. ”

Charlie looks shamefaced, and I want to shout at him. He has absolutely nothing to be ashamed of. Not him. He’s the best fucking person in the world. “I’m so sorry,” he says to Jamie, his voice a tired thread of sound. “I’ve broken up your party.”

Jamie immediately shakes his head. “Don’t be so silly, Charlie.

They’re like expensive goldfish. They’ll have forgotten all about it by the time they got to the door.

” He hugs Charlie around the shoulders. He has to reach up to do it, as Charlie is taller than him, but he does it as gently as if Charlie were a child.

“I’d rather be with you and Misha.” He grins at Charlie. “Well, you anyway.”

I snort out a laugh and even Charlie smiles. It’s the final step that makes me accept Jamie as a friend. If he can be so kind to Charlie and even make him smile after a seizure, then he’s a mate for life to me.

“Let’s get you upstairs,” I say.

Still shaky, Charlie wraps his arm around my waist so I can take a little bit of his weight as we move slowly out of the room and through the foyer. I’m amazed that we’re not attracting any attention.

I look at Jamie, and he smiles. “Told the staff what had happened and asked that nobody stared or fussed.”

I nod in gratitude. Together we get Charlie into the lift, and he slumps against me. I wrap my arms around him, and he nestles closer, shivering. Jamie drapes the blanket around his shoulders. “We’ll soon be in the room,” he says earnestly to Charlie.

It takes a few minutes, but we finally stagger down the corridor to Charlie’s room, and by the time we get to the door, Charlie is moving a bit more surely. I let us in, and he lowers himself to the bed while I make a beeline to the bathroom to start the shower.

Jamie follows me in. “You’re surely not showering him now?”

I nod, testing the temperature with my fingers. “He’s cold, and he always feels gritty and dirty when he comes round.”

“Isn’t he too fuzzy?”

“I’ll get in with him. Won’t be the first time.”

“Can you take his weight?”

I look at him in incomprehension. “Of course. I’d never risk Charlie. Surely you know that? ”

He smiles and shakes his head. “I know a lot more than I did, that’s for sure.”

“What do you mean?” I grab some towels and put them ready on the side.

Jamie shrugs, a wry look on his face. “I never stood a chance with Charlie.”

I straighten up. “Sorry?”

He shakes his head again. “Never mind. He’s gorgeous and a lovely person, but he’s not for me.” He smiles suddenly. “Plus, I think I’d be rather uncomfortable with such a clever person.”

“Not something I’d think you usually have to be concerned about with your friendship group,” I say.

He laughs. “I think I’d like to be his friend though. Think he’s got room for one more?”