Page 14
14. Charlie :
(February 14th – also known as Valentine’s Day)
‘Okay, oars up.’
The eight of us followed Marshy’s command and for the final 25 metres we glided down the river towards the dry dock, stretching out our legs.
We needed it. My muscles had been screaming for the last fifteen minutes, and based on the groaning coming from Brooks in six seat behind me so were his.
It was safe to say that since the beginning of the year, our training sessions had ramped up.
At the beginning of January, they’d been hard. But we’d powered into February and with less than two months to race day, the training was pushing us to the brink of collapse because ‘you’ll be near death on race day, no reason why you shouldn’t get used to it now’ , Coach had reminded us last week.
Every day he’d spouted one of his little missives about how we likely wouldn’t survive, or how many ambulances would be waiting for us by Chiswick Bridge. Some iteration of it, anyway. Even this morning while I was trying to concentrate on how to breathe he’d been yelling foreboding warnings down his megaphone from the support boat behind us.
It didn’t help that Oz seemed to have taken it upon himself to become a one-man rowing machine. As stroke it was his job to set the pace, but if I didn’t know better I’d swear he was trying to kill us – given I was still sucking fresh air into my lungs – or at least take seriously Coach’s instructions to drive us to collapse. Even over the many years I’d rowed with Oz, through school and for Great Britain, I couldn’t recall ever seeing him more determined to win a race than he appeared this week.
In fact, it was possible I’d blanked on last year’s training because I don’t remember pushing ourselves quite so hard, ever . Which, in hindsight, may have contributed to why we’d lost.
At the rate we were going, not even the Olympic squad could beat us. Not this year. Every single drop of sweat we had was being poured into this race. It was one of the reasons the main OUBC crew was leaner. The weak links had been cut weeks ago, and we were now down to the final numbers our crews would be selected from.
Blue Boat and Isis. Two boats. Two coxes. Sixteen rowers.
It hadn’t been announced yet, but we all knew who would be racing in the number one spot – Marshy, Bitters, Joshi, Fellows, Drake, Frank, Brooks, Oz and me.
We were the crew to beat.
We were the crew to take Oxford over the finish line first. We would be crowned champions.
We could feel it. All of us. We knew.
There was no way we’d lose this year. None.
‘Nice pace today, fellas. Fast, very fast,’ added Marshy from the confines of his thick winter parka and wool beanie, huddled at the front of the shell.
‘Jesus … Christ,’ puffed out Brooks behind me. ‘How was this a Friday session? We’re out on the river all weekend, when am I supposed to recover?’
‘When we’re dead?’ I turned around to find his bright-red face dripping in sweat. ‘Poor little Brooksy, d’you need me to run you a hot bath when we get home?’
‘Thanks, mate. I do actually,’ he grinned, before dropping his voice. ‘Take it this session was about Kate?’
My head flicked up to where Oz was talking to Marshy. Call it a coincidence, but since Kate and Oz had broken up the punishing durations of our training regimens seemed to have increased. While all the boys had noticed, only Brooks and I had put two and two together, to equal an Oz who seemed to be trying to exorcise himself into forgetting Kate, seeing as drinking himself into forgetfulness hadn’t worked.
It wasn’t just in training either. On Wednesday I’d gotten home to find Oz revising, an occurrence rarer than a solar eclipse. At least he hadn’t attempted to cook anything, because then I’d really start worrying.
I turned back to Brooks. ‘That’s a fair assumption.’
‘Maybe we can get them back together before he kills us all then.’
‘Hmm.’
‘Everyone out and packed up,’ boomed Coach over the megaphone. ‘Shells away.’
‘Why does he repeat it every morning like we don’t know what we’re doing?’ snapped Oz, pushing his oar out to one of the junior crew members waiting on the dry dock ready to pull us in.
It sounded like a rhetorical question to me, and Brooks’ single raise of one eyebrow was all the response I needed, especially when Oz stormed into the changing rooms after we’d safely placed the boat back on the pipes. Marshy wasn’t far behind him, slipping through the swing door Oz had flung open.
‘Has Marshy been dumped too?’ mumbled Brooks, standing far too close to me. ‘I didn’t even know he was seeing anyone.’
I stepped back and shrugged. ‘No clue.’
‘Well, thank fuck we’re single.’
I jerked forward slightly as he slapped me on the back with a guffaw, and ignored my eye roll. Not a day had passed that Brooks hadn’t failed to make some kind of little jab about Violet and me, or the daily query into how much longer was left of our ‘arrangement’. I could almost believe that he thought he needed to mention it just so I wouldn’t forget.
As a result, I was yet to break it to him that Violet and I were no longer fake dating.
I knew I had to do it, I just hadn’t found the right moment. It was hard when Brooks was being more of a pain in the arse than usual.
Plus the kissing with Violet was taking up all my spare time, and any precious minutes left over were dedicated to training, studying, training and more training. Then sleep.
Not that I was complaining in the slightest. In fact, if all I could do for the rest of my life was sleep and kiss Violet I’d die happy.
Something that might come sooner than expected the way our training sessions were going.
Brooks was also on a diet of training, studying and sleeping, so really it had been virtually impossible to speak to him. But that wasn’t a good enough excuse either.
We didn’t just stand around doing nothing, like we were just now.
Shit. I pulled on the red and white cupcake band I still wore around my wrist, and it snapped back with enough of a sting to kick me into gear.
‘Mate … have you got a second to talk?’ I started, right as the doors from the changing room were flung open and Oz stormed out.
‘Are you two ready to leave or are you standing around gossiping?’
‘We’re ready,’ replied Brooks, who definitely wasn’t ready given he was in the same state of rowing undress as I was, and I wasn’t ready. ‘Two minutes, let me grab our things. Charlie, I’ll get yours.’
‘Thanks,’ I called after him, glancing at Oz. ‘You okay? Hard session today.’
‘We have a race to win,’ he grumbled, and I didn’t fail to notice he wouldn’t meet my eye.
‘Yeah, we do. Let’s try and make sure we’re still alive come race day though. Eh?’
‘Don’t be stupid, Charlie. Of course, we will be.’
I didn’t bother to argue or point out that there was a high possibility if he pushed every session as hard as he had this morning, he would exhaust himself before the end of March. Luckily he didn’t seem to be waiting for a response and that was the moment Brooks reappeared carrying bags, while also trying to pull his hoodie on.
‘Good, let’s go home,’ Oz said, marching off towards the car so fast we were jogging to keep up with him.
‘I’ll take that, thanks.’ I saved my backpack before Brooks dropped it.
‘I’m absolutely famished. What’s for second breakfast?’
‘You need to fend for yourself, I have to go to the library. But there are fresh breakfast muffins in the pantry that I made last night.’
‘Ooh, my favourite.’ He clapped a big hand on my shoulder and opened the car door for me to hop in – the back door. ‘You’re a good boy, Charles, especially as you’re letting me ride shotgun.’
I’d agreed to no such thing. But it was an argument I never won. I also had a feeling Oz may have banned me from the passenger seat for some stupid reason, like he didn’t care for my music selection, but I couldn’t quite remember. Normally I’d have put up a fight, but right now I was more than content to stay in the back seat for the journey home, because it meant I could sneak in a twenty-minute power nap.
The wheels spun on the gravel with a loud crunch, as Oz reversed and sped out of the car park without a word.
Leaning my head on the seat rest, I closed my eyes expecting exhaustion to overwhelm me as it usually did but a minute later and I was still wide awake. My muscles were sore, yes. My body was kind of tired, but my brain was wide awake.
Glancing out of the window, the sun was fully emerging on the horizon, the orange glow illuminating the inky skies, turning them a perfect shade of violet.
Violet.
She was the reason I felt so recharged. Like I’d been mainlining caffeine since I’d woken up.
I might not love sitting in the back but at least neither Oz nor Brooks could see me smiling to myself as I pulled my phone out.
Charlie:
How’s my no-longer-fake girlfriend doing today? Enjoying a lie in?
Violet:
No! She’s rushing around.
Charlie:
Rushing this early already …
Violet:
Tell me about it. I have rehearsals all morning, lectures all afternoon. And we’re in the theatre today, which adds another twenty minutes to my journey time.
I checked the clock.
My first class didn’t start until after lunch, but I had to return a couple of books and I’d promised Gordon I’d meet him before our Friday physics tutorial. If I really hurried I could swing by the theatre and see how all Violet’s hard work was paying off.
It was on my way.
At least, it was on my way if I took a huge detour across the city.
I eased open the doors of the theatre as carefully as I could, hoping to catch a glimpse of Violet in her natural habitat because as she was perpetually late, it wasn’t often I got to see her without her noticing me.
‘Bollocks,’ I hissed to myself as the hinge stuck and shoved me forward with a clattered close. So much for being careful.
Thankfully no one on stage seemed to notice, so I slipped in undetected and sank into one of the plush velvet seats on the back row. I’d even managed to remove my very wet coat, and put down my umbrella without causing too much of a commotion. Or any commotion.
The commotion seemed to be happening on stage.
‘No. No. No. It’s stage left. Stage LEFT, Matthew. It says right here in the script, supporting cast come in stage LEFT,’ bellowed a voice from the front.
Clearly size didn’t equal volume because right then a very small red-headed girl stormed up the steps in front of the stage brandishing what looked like a script, still bellowing. I was amazed her voice hadn’t given way as she strode across the stage, short legs powering her towards a group of people, one of which I assumed was the errant Matthew. It was hard to believe she was capable of producing such a loud volume, and where in fact she had room for the vocal chords needed to produce it. If she ever gave up studying whatever it was she was studying, she could apply to be a foghorn in the navy.
One thing for sure, based on half the people who shrank back and the others who half rolled their eyes and turned away, this girl was in charge. Either way, I did not want to be on the receiving end of her wrath and had a feeling she wouldn’t be quite so happy with a stranger being present, so I sank further down in my seat, praying I wouldn’t get caught.
Even if I was here to see one of the stars.
‘Ah … Cecily,’ crowed a voice, equally as booming but much deeper, ‘that’s my fault. I told them to come on from stage right. From an audience perspective, it’s much more helpful for the scene I have with Stella, and really brings her to the forefront for Olivia’s entrance.’
I watched as a guy, dressed head to toe in what looked like dark-green velvet, sidled up next to the redhead and put his arm around her. Points for bravery, I’d give him that. Not sure I’d be getting so close seeing as she looked capable of breathing fire and reducing him to a pile of ashes.
‘You see?’ he said, turning them around so their backs were to the audience. ‘Stella, come out. Show Cecily.’
I had to hold back the laugh rumbling fast up my throat at the sight of Stella shuffling onto the stage looking like she’d rather be anywhere else. Her jaw was clenched so tight I could see it popping from here, along with her arms crossed tight over her chest. It should have been a warning to this guy, but he didn’t seem to have noticed.
Plus, you know, he was brave.
‘Come on, Stella, come here.’ He gestured her over, ignoring the impatient look she shot at him.
Stella took a deep breath, glaring to her left, before looking back to Cecily. ‘Leo’s correct. It’s better,’ she said through gritted teeth.
Ohhh. So this was the famous Leo Tavener. Maybe if I squinted a little he did look kind of familiar, but if I was being honest he wasn’t in the kind of films I ever watched. Or we watched in the house.
But this guy had me paying attention because he was the one who Violet complained about more than anything. Actually, thinking about it, I don’t think I ever heard her complain about anything else, period. She wasn’t that type of girl. Violet was easy, happy and nearly always smiling.
More important, she made me smile.
Glancing around, however, I couldn’t see her.
She wasn’t on stage. She wasn’t with Stella. I sat up in my chair, hoping I’d missed her sitting on the front rows, but none of the backs of heads I could see belonged to Violet. It was only on my second sweep of the theatre that a flash of caramel-blonde caught my eye.
There she was.
Maybe if I’d come to the theatre weeks ago, I would have realized sooner that this girl was one of a kind. Absolutely stunning. It wouldn’t have taken me most of January to figure out that I liked her. And I wouldn’t have been surprised by the realization that I did.
In fact, right now, watching her wander across the stage to join in with whatever discussion they were having, the violet ends of her blonde hair bouncing across her shoulders as happily and carefree as she was, I was surprised how I hadn’t liked Violet Brooks for far longer than a month. I pulled out my phone, taking a quick snap I could add to Instagram later.
‘Cece, I agree too.’
‘I’m the director, Violet. I say what’s happening.’
Leo had stepped away nearer to Stella, so the space was clear for Violet to be next, and once more Cecily had an arm slung over her shoulders. ‘I know you are, Cecily, but come and watch from down here. You’ll see. And when Linus gets back we can show him too.’
Somehow, Violet managed to coax Cecily off the stage, taking her down the stairs and back to her seat.
‘Do-over,’ Violet called, and everyone jumped into action, resuming their positions until only Leo was left in the centre. ‘Stella?’
Stella walked onto the stage from the right and stopped, looking down at Cecily.
‘Well?’
It was faint, but I heard a huffed ‘fine’, from the front row, before standing to resume with the foghorn. ‘Okay, ten-minute break. Ten minutes people.’
I eased up from the chair just as Stella ran down the steps to Violet and spotted me. Her face split with a wide, knowing grin and ten seconds later Violet shot up and spun around.
Rushing across the city in the pouring rain, clocking up a library fine because my pile of books was definitely going back late, not to mention almost dying in training this morning, was all totally worth it from the look on her face when her eyes locked with mine.
If I’d had any doubt at all about liking this girl, it melted away from the warmth of her smile until I swear it was only her and me in the entire theatre. Especially when she made her way over to me, breaking into a little jog for the last few metres.
‘What are you doing here?’
‘Thought I’d come to see if all our rehearsal time’s paying off.’
Her giggle hit me square in the chest, and I knew my smile matched the size of hers. Taking a step forward, I was just about to kiss her when I realized we had an audience. An audience of one. I managed to tear my eyes away from Violet to see who it was.
Up close, Leo looked much more familiar than he had on the stage, and much taller. The velvet suit was still velvet, but somehow he managed to pull it off. In an Austin Powers kind of way, or in the way a velvet suit should never look good on anybody. Maybe it was the shiny brogues he’d paired it with, shinier than I’d ever known shoes could be.
I found myself wondering what he did on rainy days like this because shiny shoes, velvet and rain were not friends.
‘Hi?’
‘What’s up, Leo?’ asked Violet, from her tone clearly annoyed at the interruption. Though I noticed she didn’t frown at Stella who’d also joined us.
‘Well, I came to see if you wanted a coffee, but now I want to know who this dishy chap is. Your boyfriend I presume, given how you’re looking at each other.’
My eyes shot to Violet, who looked utterly mortified, or perhaps that was the face she made when she was trying to bite her tongue. Because I think she was trying to do that too. Whatever it was, I was still learning. I’d got most of her faces down, but this was new.
Stella’s, however, needed no translation. The clenched fists raised to her temples did all the talking.
‘God, Leo. Who speaks like that. You’re twenty years old. No one says “dishy chap” under the age of seventy-five, and Charlie isn’t …’
‘I dunno,’ I interrupted and grinned at Leo. ‘I kind of like it. It has an old-world charm to it. I should thank you, my good sir.’
Leo looked like he might burst with happiness, in contrast to Stella who appeared to be trying to melt him with her glare. But he was impervious. And I liked him all the more for it. Violet, however, was still twisting her lip and it took no guesses for me to figure it was down to the boyfriend comment, not that I could have cared less.
We might be seeing how things were going, but that didn’t stop me from looking at her the way I always looked at her – like she was lit with a spotlight only I could see. If that’s what a boyfriend did, then so be it.
‘You’re very welcome.’ He thrust a hand out to me, ‘Leo Tavener.’
I took it, momentarily surprised at the firmness of his shake. ‘Charlie Masterson.’
‘Oh, bravo, Violet. I’m glad you’ve met someone worthy, and just in time for Valentine’s Day too.’
Valentine’s Day? Shit, when was that?
I both heard and felt Violet groan next to me, and I’d imagine the wince I was wearing now mirrored hers.
Leo leaned forward in what I assume he’d call a stage whisper and said, ‘February fourteenth.’
‘Thanks, mate.’ I saluted.
‘You’re very welcome,’ he winked, and turned to Stella. ‘Tell me, do you have plans for Valentine’s Day?’
For the first time I’d ever seen, Stella was completely speechless. Her mouth opened and closed like a goldfish as she stared at him, almost to the point I was starting to feel sorry for her, especially as Violet just looked confused.
‘Um … I … Yes. I do,’ she spluttered finally, making it obvious to anyone with eyes and ears that she was lying. ‘Anyway, I have to go. Vi, see you later.’
She hurried off through the doors before the three of us could stop her or call after her to remember her umbrella.
Leo was the first to break the silence with a low chuckle. ‘She certainly is a feisty one, that one. Keeps me on my toes every day.’
Violet and I both turned to him. She paused with her mouth open like she was about to ask him a question then thought better.
‘Anyway, coffee,’ he smiled, thumbing behind him. ‘Charlie, good to meet you.’
‘Bye, mate,’ I waved, before I realized what I was doing and put my arm down. I watched him jog after Stella and turned to Violet. ‘I don’t know why you’re always complaining about him. I like him.’
She rolled her eyes, letting out a loud groan. ‘Of course you do.’
Stepping as far into her personal space as I could, I reached around and gripped a handful of hair, gently tugging it until her head tipped for me to kiss.
‘Alone, finally. Hello.’
‘Hello.’ She smiled against my lips, then arched back looking at me with a raised brow. ‘My good sir?’
‘What?’ I chuckled, wrapping my arms around her waist, relishing how perfectly she fitted next to me and once more thinking how nice it was to be similar heights. ‘It’s always fun to wind up Stella. I’d forgotten how much Brooks used to do it whenever we were at your parents’ place. I give it until the end of term before they’re together.’
‘Who?’
‘Stella and Laurence Olivier.’ I nodded to the door where they’d both disappeared.
‘What? Don’t be stupid.’
‘I’m telling you. Those two are getting it on.’ There was something about the way Leo looked at her, even when she was being incredibly rude. And I’d seen Stella get annoyed with people before – mostly Brooks – and I’d not once thought she’d rather be in bed with him. But Leo on the other hand was a good-looking guy, even if he did wear velvet suits and say things like ‘dishy chap’.
‘Are you feeling alright?’ She lifted her hand to my forehead. ‘Or is a fever making you delusional?’
‘You’re the only one giving me a fever.’ I shook my head with a smirk, catching her hand and holding the palm to my lips, ‘Come on, Shakespeare, let’s go and get a coffee. By my timing we’ve only got five minutes left, and for four of those I want to be kissing you.’
She grinned up at me, ‘Are you sure you shouldn’t be taking English? You’re awfully romantic for a physicist.’
Throwing my head back with a laugh, I pulled her in and tucked her under my arm. And if I really wanted to step up and show her romance, the pink hearts in all the windows we passed told me I should probably do it soon.