Chasing Charlie

A red nose and freezing ears were not the best look. Especially when she wanted to appear cool, calm and collected and not at all bothered that instead of heading to uni in Hong Kong, across the harbor on the Star Ferry with her mates, she was standing in the freezing cold, waiting for the local bus back on the east coast of Scotland. Without any mates.

Life and its bloody curve balls.

Charlotte Xiǎo Méihuā—phonetically Shu-Mai—Allsop, usually known as Charlie, stamped her feet to try to keep the circulation going and swore under her breath. Who on earth thought it a good idea not to bring hat and gloves out? It might say it was only autumn on the calendar, but no one had told the east coast of Scotland that. The uni playing fields which she passed on her walk to the nearest bus stop were white, and the pond nearby appeared as if it would freeze you if you went within three feet of it. Not that she intended to. She preferred to swim in warm and probably chlorinated, or salty, water. For one wistful moment she allowed herself to remember Big Wave Beach in Hong Kong, and long, hot, fun-filled days with her mates. One in particular, but that was over now, with no regrets. It was as they say—good while it lasted—but it wouldn’t have lasted much longer, even if she hadn’t moved away again.

Charlie blew on her fingers—it made no difference, and she suspected her nose was blue with cold because her hands were white. All she needed was something red and she could have a job imitating a flag!

Great look—not.

Why the hell had she chosen to live where she did? Okay nice house, great garden and independence, but shit, maybe she should have said sod it and found a flat share.

When would the bloody bus arrive? She’d been told it left at ten past and it was almost that now. Charlie stuffed her hands into her pockets and glanced around. Two girls, both in padded jackets and woolly hats, were huddled together giggling over something on one of their phones. Three boys—without padded jackets or hats and without blue noses—had given her the once-over then ignored her. Much to her relief. She was too cold to think of any good put-downs or pithy comments.

As they were all standing around in the same area, she had to assume they were all waiting for the now overdue bus. One of the halls of residence wasn’t far away.

“Hi, no bus yet?”

Charlie swung around to see a newcomer—female, thank goodness—behind her. She shook her head. “Nope. I was told ten past.”

The newcomer, tall and redheaded like Charlie herself, shrugged. “Ten past is a moveable time when it comes to good old Duckman’s Coaches. It’s turned up anytime from five past to twenty-five to, with no reason why. They’re quacking shite. The one they send us is as old as I am, I swear. It’s broken down on the way, run out of petrol twice, leaked rusty water all over my unsuspecting brother and had a window fall out halfway over the bumps. You know where the local council in its infinite wisdom decided to do traffic calming measures without realizing it’s probably the least used street in town. The joys of living on the outskirts of town and getting the worst bus service in the world. I’m guessing you’re new, or at least new to the joys of Duckman’s. I’m Lily Bannerman, by the way. Are you new, or have I just never met you?”

Charlie took a swift glance at the pleasant-sounding girl next to her. Her long, red hair was almost covered by an overlarge woolly hat and she was another one who wore a padded jacket and a pair of gloves. Sensible.

At least I’ve got the jacket. She’d been tempted not to bother, but thank goodness her mom had put her foot down with, ’If you get pneumonia, I’ll have to look after you. You’re a rotten patient.’ Both true.

“New to this part of town. Did my last year at a uni in Hong Kong, you know, like we can?”

Lily nodded.

“I moved to this part of town last week, after the place I was due to live in was flooded because some num pty in the upper flat left the bath tap on. Thank goodness it was the cold one,” Charlie explained, glad someone acknowledged her existence. “I was due to move soon anyway, but I just brought the date forward and accepted I’m living in a building site for now.” Her new house was not quite finished, but, thanks to a sum of money handed to her by her beloved godmother, she had been able to buy it and move in before the kitchen cupboards had handles on and the downstairs loo a door. She held out her hand, used to the politeness of Hong Kong. “Charlie Allsop. I’m doing French and Mandarin. Hi.”

“Mandarin?” Lily’s eyebrows disappeared behind her fringe as she returned the handshake. “Wow. Isn’t that hard?”

Charlie shrugged, a bit embarrassed she might have sounded as if she were boasting. She hadn’t meant to. “Probably, but I lived in Hong Kong, as a teen, so I’ve got the basics.” She had more than that, but wasn’t going to show off, or explain she could get by in Cantonese as well.

“Wow again. And now bonny Scotland. Chalk and cheese. Why?” Lily sounded genuinely interested and not merely nosy. She stamped her feet. “This weather is the pits. Sorry, go on.”

Charlie smiled. “You’ve got it right about the weather, though they’re just coming out of typhoon season over there, which can be pretty hairy. Long story. Short version, I was born here, we moved to Shanghai when I was around a year old, Singapore when I was three, then California and then Hong Kong for the last seven years.”

“Scotland instead of Hong Kong? Why?”

She shrugged. “Who knows? I got a place to study in Hong Kong or Beijing if I wanted one, but Hong Kong would have meant living at home for a while and Beijing…hmm.” She wriggled her nose. “I love the city, but I didn’t want to study there and this uni has a great reputation. Plus, I knew I could do my overseas year in Hong Kong if I wanted to.”

“Bit of a culture shock, though?”

“You can say that again.”

Lily shivered. “How about our balmy weather, eh?”

“Weather-wise is a shock as well. Where’s the season of mists and mellow fruitfulness my mom waffles on nostalgically about?”

“Missed us out this year, as it often does. The weather is pants, I agree,” Lily said with an exaggerated shudder. “I’m not sure you ever get used to winter lasting ten months, or that’s what it feels like. Seriously, it was gorgeous for two or three months last summer. This year, we’ve had about two or three weeks. One of those in April.” She rolled her eyes. “I remember my mom saying they all wore short long johns—if that’s not a misnomer—under their skirts years ago. I wish we still did. Mind you, leggings under trousers work. Weather apart, though, we’re not that bad when you get to know us,” Lily said as she glanced around. “Well, most of us, anyway. Some just can’t help being assholes. But you’d know that from when you were here before, I guess?”

Charlie grinned. “I was too young, but males are the same the world over.”

One of the three boys in a huddle appeared to notice her for the first time. “Oy, Lil,” he bellowed. “Who’s our mate? Where’s Jake then? Having a quick fag before he eats a mint and tells you he doesn’t smoke?”

“As I was saying,” Lily muttered under her breath. She raised her voice. “My mate? Hands off. About Jake? Your guess is as good as mine, Hamish. We left together. My brother is the one he’s yabbering about,” she explained to Charlie. “Doesn’t smoke ’cause he’s a rugby fanatic, but those idiots like to pretend he does. He makes a point of never hanging around here, and rolls up as the bus does on the days he has to catch it. Never missed it yet, but one time…”

The boy—presumably Hamish—laughed. “Get yer bet on what day he comes round that corner as we go round the other?”

“Nah, he’d make it a different day on purpose. He would too,” she added to Charlie. “A bit up himself is our Jacob. My twin and never forgiven me for popping out first.”

“You said it,” Hamish, who had overheard, replied. “Older sisters are the pits. Fair enough, save your money.”

He turned away then high-fived a boy who came around the corner at the same time as a clapped-out single decker that seemed to jerk and judder as the engine spluttered as it jolted along.

The guy and the bus arrived at the stop in unison. The bus wheezed and stopped a few feet away from Charlie and Lily. The guy grinned and stopped even closer.

“Who’s the bird?” His attitude was of someone full of themselves as he winked.

Lily’s eyes narrowed. “Moron,” she said under her breath. “My brother, as if you can’t guess. Do I tell him?”

“Can do, or I can?” Charlie said a lot more confidently than she felt. To go up against someone who, she decided, was one of the ‘in crowd’ could backfire big time. But to ignore him could backfire even more. “Won’t bother me.”

Liar, liar, pants on fire.

Lily grinned. “Go for it.”’

“Who’s the gob,” Charlie said sweetly, “who daren’t ask me himself? Do you mean me, or is it that poor little, fluffy specimen on top of the bus shelter you were wondering about? That’s a robin. I’m Charlie Allsop. You, I guess, are the bane of Lily’s life.”

The so-called bane stared at her for a second, narrowed his eyes then slowly grinned. “Gob, eh? Takes one to know one.”

Charlie returned the long look-over he was giving her. She reckoned it was worth her time, even if he was a PITA.

I will not blush. Now she knew what it meant when she read about feeling dissected after someone looked at you. Hot and bothered was an understatement, and she’d bet her next plane ticket to Hong Kong he knew it.

Jake Bannerman was one dangerous bloke.

He, meanwhile, didn’t seem at all bothered by her scrutiny. Mind you, she was very careful which bits of him she scrutinized.

Tall, dark hair, gray eyes and a cocky grin. Stubble—designer, she guessed—graced his chin, and, oh for goodness sake, he had a dimple.

After several seconds, he raised his eyes from her boobs and nodded. “Sure does.”

“Come on.” Lily grabbed Charlie’s arm and dragged her onto the bus. “I don’t care if that lot think it’s fashionable to be the last ones on, but one day… Argh… Got your bus pass?”

Charlie nodded. “Yep.” She’d sorted it out a few days before. It reduced the cost to buy a monthly ticket, and as she still hadn’t got round to buying a car, she guessed the bus pass would become her new best friend. She followed Lily onto the bus, not surprised to see her new friend sit next to the sole occupant. After all, she might be sociable and welcoming to a newbie, but she would have mates of her own.

Charlie showed her pass and went to a seat several rows behind Lily. She’d listen to music or check her emails or something.

Or look out of the window—it was only a ten-minute journey.

“Hi.” The girl next to Lily twisted around, smiled and spoke to her. “I’m Mairi Sutherland.”

“Darn it, sorry, Charlie,” Lily said contritely. “Mairi, meet Charlie Allsop. Charlie, meet Mairi. She’s doing English.”

Mairi grinned. “Good to see you on here. Put the girls up to three from this stop then. Still outnumbered by morons, but hey-ho… Oh…” She glanced at Jake as he sauntered onto the bus. “Hi, Jake. Great to see you on here. You don’t grace us with your presence often enough. I, er, we miss you.”

Jake nodded. “Morning.” He ignored the rest of her comments.

Mairi colored. “You going to the Rag Week meeting? They’re wanting some new blood and ideas for different competitions this year.”

Jake shook his head and Mairi’s face fell. Someone, Charlie decided, needed to tell her not to show her feelings so obviously.

“Rugby,” he said and turned to where Lily sat. “Hey, my seat.”

Charlie looked up at Jake. His expression was one of…of what? A challenge?

She shrugged and did her best to ignore the way her heartbeat sped up. Not because he was hot—even though he was—but because here she was a newbie, challenging someone who she’d bet her new backpack was one of the leaders of the boys who ruled the roost. She’d no idea what they called them in that part of the world now, but before she’d done her year abroad, it had been the ‘in crowd.’ Something her gran always laughed about as she said it was a very sixties thing to say, but it fitted perfectly.

“Gonna move?” he asked.

Charlie stared at him. “No.”

“I think you might.” He loomed over her. “You see, my seat is where I sit.”

“And I can’t see anything that says this is your seat.”

“Bannerman, sit down and let’s go.” The bus driver got into the act. “Can’t set off until your ass is plonked down.”

“You’re holding the bus up,” he said to Charlie. “The rule is bums on seats before we leave.”

She raised one eyebrow. A new trick she’d practiced for ages. “Not me. My bum is where it’s supposed to be. I’m sitting down, all ready to go.”

Jake considered her and a wicked expression appeared on his face. “Okay then.”

He swung around and sat on her. “Like I said, my seat.”

He was heavy. Charlie made an effort to keep her face impassive.

“Like I said, not got your name on it.” She shoved him. It was like pushing a brick wall.

Now what?

She decided the attitude to take was on the offensive.

“Ooft, who’s been to the pie shop, then?” She dug him in the ribs, which were not covered in layers of fat, anything but. “Piggy-wiggy. At the risk of being personal, you weigh a ton and I don’t want to be squashed. Move, you moron.”

“Not unless you do.” He shifted from side to side. “I could get used to it.” He bent so his mouth was next to her ear. “Be better if it was you on top of me. Any which way. You fancy it?”

“Nope, I’m fastidious. No idea where you’ve been.”

“You would then, though.”

“Not interested.”

He blew in her ear. Asshole. “Liar.”

Hamish whistled and one of the other lads made stupid, suggestive noises.

“Jacob Bannerman, you’re an idiot.” Lily turned around and saw what was going on. “And I have to own up to the fact you’re my brother. Thank god we don’t look alike, or act alike. One idiot in the family is one too many. It’s not your seat. You sit on the back row with your mates. Don’t try to come it.”

“Spoilsport.” Jake stood up and bowed to Charlie. “I’ll give you your seat. You’re a bit too bony to be comfortable on.” He turned to walk toward his mates as the driver put the brakes on and sighed audibly.

“You’re a lot too army for me,” Charlie retorted. What a twat.

To her surprise, he laughed. “Gonna have fun here. Your bones and my arse, eh? Could be good.”

“In your dream,” Charlie snapped, fed up of the way he’d decided to mock her. She couldn’t help being rake thin, but with boobs. Her mom was the same.

Jake swung around and faced her. “Or nightmares.”

He sauntered to the back of the bus and sat down next to his mates amid much laughter and backslapping.

What a twerp.

He had to admit it, this new female interested him. Not that he’d show it, of course.

Jacob Bannerman wasn’t known as Jake the rake for nothing. It had been earned by a devilish attitude and a way of making girls fancy him, before he showed them he wasn’t interested. Not every girl—oh no, that would be tacky. He’d be the first to admit that he had stringent views on what he preferred in a partner. And that he lost interest very quickly.

Some might say that was once he’d got what he wanted, whatever that might be.

He rationalized it as so many females only one him. Or so he let on to anyone who was concerned.

Those who chased him didn’t interest him. He liked to do his own chasing. However, Charlie Allsop was the first female in ages who appeared immune to his so-called charms, and it irked him. He was supposed to be the disinterested party, not the female.

Jake had no false modesty. He accepted that his looks were an act of nature—however, if girls fell for dark red almost burnished black hair and green eyes, who was he to ignore that? Or not take advantage? That would be foolish, and foolish was one thing he wasn’t.

If older girls—women—came on to him, well, he wasn’t going to not let them show him all they knew and he would enjoy.

Lydia Ffrench—with two ‘f’s—had made sure of that as an extra birthday present, one memorable evening in her dad’s campervan. Jake had fond memories of Lydia. And the campervan.

Sadly they’d split soon after, but he’d put her tuition to good use when he could. Not as often as he’d like or as people imagined, but as he thought, enough not to feel as if his cock had shriveled up from lack of use. Pam and her sisters didn’t get many outings there these days.

It might sound like a contradiction, but Jake was uneasily aware he could have sex and not really be involved.

What a shit I am. Maybe it was time to change his attitude.

However, old habits die hard. He whistled at a girl in his tutorial whose skirt could better be called a pelmet, and winked at Hamish who rolled his eyes.

“Not in your league, Jake.”

“Nah, well below. But I can still admire her…legs.’’

First lecture over, he had a few hours spare and headed to the nearby golf driving range to hit a few balls. Golf wasn’t his first love, rugby was, but he made enough money during the university holidays as a caddy to ensure he kept his eyes in.

As he lined up the ball thought about Charlie Allsop, and the thrill of the chase—and miss hit.

Concentrate. The next shot was better. Admitting his mind wasn’t on golf, he wandered back into town.

Chasing Charlie. Nah, not my style. However, if he could get her to chase him, that would be different. Why, he pondered, did it matter so much to him that she showed no interest? There was plenty more girls in his lectures, or in the near vicinity, of a similar age—or older—who would go out with him without a second thought. That’s why he chose to be a barman in one of the popular tourist pubs. No commitments and a lot of fun.

Jake, my boy, you’re going to be a man slut if you’re not careful. He pushed that thought out of his mind. Hadn’t he just decided to turn over a new leaf?

Charlie Allsop… The look she’d furnished him with on the bus, the way she’d pushed back as hard as he’d shoved was not something he was used to. He wasn’t sure whether he was amused or irritated by her and it. Or whether he would decide to teach her a lesson.

He and Lily chose to live at home, save money and, if they wanted privacy, use the bothy given to them as a retreat, borrow someone else’s flat, or stop with whoever they wanted to be with. So far it had worked, but he realized if he got that far with Charlie Allsop, he had no idea if one of those options would be possible.

Ah well, a long way to go in that direction before, or if ever, I need to think about that.

Was it fate that meant his mom needed to borrow his car while hers was in the garage and so he’d used the bus? Otherwise he might not now be thinking about ways to get his revenge.

Jake was used to being the one who held all the cards. The one who dictated who did what, how and when. If he used his attitude to cover up the areas where he was unsure, he was confident no one knew that.

Charlie Allsop needed to know he couldn’t be messed around with.

He was almost at the lecture hall when one of the lecturers, who he knew was in charge of the uni swimming squad, shouted to him.

“Hey, Jake, hold up.”

He swore under his breath as he slowed his steps and waited, not very patiently, for the woman to reach him. He had no interest in swimming other than as a quick way to get some exercise and expand the number of sports he was good at.

“Not going into the team,” he said before she had a chance to speak. “No time.” No inclination. “I need to concentrate on passing my exams.” True but not the reason, just one that he thought would resonate and be acceptable. “Need a good result to get a good job.” That was true. He had his heart set on working for a charity that helped people via sport.

She tutted. “Pity. You’d be an asset.”

Jake winked. Lucy Millen, the lecturer, was a friend of his parents and he’d known her since he was a kid in short trousers. “That’s what they all say.”

She laughed. “One day, Jacob, you’ll meet someone who’ll bring you down a peg or two. You know what they say about how the mighty fall.”

“Ah, but you see, Mrs. Millen, I always bounce back up.”

Unseen, a few yards away, Charlie heard the exchange. What a PITA. Having listened to Mairi when they were sitting side by side in the library, sighing over how she would have loved to have Jake sat on her knee and wasn’t he hot, she wondered if her new friend was quite all there.

She gave him a blank look. “Hmm?”

Someone hissed at them to shut up, which meant she didn’t have to stop herself saying hot wasn’t in the repertoire of names she associated with Jake Bannerman. He reminded her of several guys she’d known when she was younger. Each and every one thought they were god’s gift to females. Each and every one was, in her opinion, wrong.

A bloke had to have more about him than a pretty face, a hot-as-hell body and a sod-everyone attitude to be fanciable. For a brief moment she thought of Jean-Pierre, one of the guys she’d hung around with in Hong Kong. He’d had the good looks but not the army attitude. They’d had fun together but were happy to wave goodbye when she moved. She’d given him the new flippers he wanted, he’d given her a book of sonnets—in French—and a pair of earrings they’d seen in the silk market.

Somehow, she didn’t think any relationship with Jake would end so smoothly, or in such a pleasant manner.

By lunchtime, Charlie’s head was reeling. It was so weird to be back. So much seemed to have changed in the last year. Two new lecture halls built and one block of flats knocked down. The strangest thing seemed to be how many new people she’d met. Of course the people she’d been around before she did her year abroad were still there, but they’d moved in different directions. The friends she’d made and reconnected with in Hong Kong were still over there. She’d been the only person who had chosen to go from this uni to the one in Hong Kong.

She really felt like a fish out of water.

Charlie headed to the nearest café in a thoughtful and apprehensive mood. To be all alone after having such a large group of mates wasn’t easy.

Grow up, buttercup. She was no wilting flower, and if she didn’t make many friends it wasn’t the end of the world, just a few months of her life.

Easier said than done.

People had been friendly enough, but she guessed they were waiting to see what she was like before deciding whether she was one of them or not. That was fair enough, but it didn’t help her feeling of being a Billy-no-mates.

She looked around the crowded room and her heart sank. Not one empty table. Somehow, sitting down at a table where everyone seemed to know each other was a bit too daunting.

Resigned to eating her lunch standing up, she began to make her way across the room to where there were a few high benches.

“Hey, Charlie, over here.”

She glanced around to see Lily’s annoying brother wave to her from a crowd of boys sitting—or slouching—at a nearby table. Something in his expression made her wary. He hadn’t exuded sweetness and light earlier so why now?

Probably because his expression was challenging.

Even so, she changed direction. If nothing else, it should show he couldn’t intimidate her. Even if her knees were metaphorically knocking.

“Got to ask you, babe, weird accent, and all that. Where did you pop up from?” He tilted his chair back onto two legs and crossed one ankle over the knee of the other leg. For a brief, satisfying second, Charlie wondered if he would tilt too far…with or without a little help. Her foot itched.

“My mother’s womb,” she said laconically. “You?”

“Not from your mother’s.”

One of his mates sniggered.

“Now there’s a mercy,” Charlie said. “Because I don’t want you as a brother.”

“No?” He dropped his chair down and stood up, invading her personal space. “What do you want me for?” He leaned in close enough for her to smell his aftershave or whatever. Citrus and woodsy.

Damn him. Her mind went blank, and not one witty or semi-witty response was forthcoming.

“Nowt, I’m not into nightmares.” Pathetic response, but the best she could come up with on the spur of the moment. She turned on her heel and walked blindly away, followed by laughter.

Bloody arsy, up himself…

“Charlie, there’s a seat here.” Lily dragged her down to sit next to her. “What’s my moronic brother been up to now?”

“Trying to enjoy himself at my expense.”

Lily nodded. “He fancies you.”

Charlie shook her head. “Nope, he fancies himself.”