I shut the door forcefully. Stupid woman. I glance at the cracked TV screen, sigh at the pile of red bills on the hall table and my shoulders slump. Maybe Suzie doesn’t seem quite so stupid any more.
As I wander through to the kitchen and flick the kettle on for another cup of tea, my mobile goes. Suzie’s name flashes up. I answer the call determined to be nice.
‘Charlie, I’ve just pulled in and I had an idea! I was thinking that you really do need transport.’
‘Transport?’ What is she on about?
‘Yes, Dawn mentioned yesterday that an old friend of hers now runs a driving business – he’s doing it to sort of “give back to the community” or something. Been away in South Africa, or maybe it was South America – anyway, Dawn says he’s lovely; I called him and it’s all arranged. No more buses!’
I hold the phone tightly and take a deep breath. I can’t believe it.
‘But I’m not even pregnant yet!’
‘Never mind that,’ Suzie carries right on. ‘You will be and I don’t want you under any stress, OK? You need to make sure you only do light cleaning work from now on.’
For crap’s sake, what on earth does she know about cleaning?
‘Listen, Suzie—’ I start to say, but she cuts me off.
‘I’ve booked you in tomorrow to be picked up at ten – isn’t that right, to get to your cleaning job? You might as well get used to it.’
‘Sorry?’ This woman is so neurotic. I’m almost thinking I might reconsider.
‘You need to get places. Safely. Actually, I think that’s his business name. Anyway, at some point after you’ve had the baby maybe you can use the money to get yourself lessons – he offers driving lessons too, I think – but in the meantime, no more public transport! His name is Daniel Forrester – his business is called, hang on a moment, it’s in my bag, yes, Going Places At Any Age; apparently most of his clients are elderly people who want help to get about, quite sweet, really,’ she continues. ‘A kind of “Uber for the elderly”. He seemed very nice on the phone. I didn’t tell him, by the way.’
‘Tell him what?’
‘About our arrangement – let’s just keep our business private, don’t want everyone in Chesterbrook nattering about it. Look, must go, someone’s tooting me.’ And with that she hangs up.
Bloody woman! Who does she think she is? Tomorrow? I take out some milk from the fridge then slam the door shut. What on earth will I tell him? It will be fairly obvious I’m pregnant in a few months and there’s no ‘dad’ on the scene – and what will everyone round here think when some geezer turns up? No doubt he’s some stuffy old bloke. Dawn says he’s lovely. Yeuch.
*
A horn’s beeping outside. It’s exactly 10 a.m. God, he’s probably some army type who’s really big on punctuality. Left, right, left, right. I stifle a giggle.
The horn goes again. For flip’s sake. I just need to sort out my hair, which has decided that my face doesn’t need to be seen today. I grab a scrunchie from the dressing table, tie it up and glance out the window. Yup, there’s a car parked right outside. Well, he’ll just have to wait.
I catch my reflection in the mirror as I leave my room. It’s sort of schoolgirl chic mixed with cleaning-lady charm. I roll my eyes and gallop down the stairs two by two, narrowly missing the cat, then shove Tyler’s trainers out of the way in the hall so I can open the door.
Yanking the front door closed behind me, I see an old blue Vauxhall Vectra with @goingplacesatanyage painted on the side and a telephone number. I open the passenger door to get in, trip up slightly and then steady myself, ready for a dreary ride.
Oh my God.
It’s him! This won’t be dreary at all. The gorgeous driving instructor.
‘Hello!’ I say awkwardly.
‘Hi there, I’m Daniel,’ he says, turning to look at me. He’s possibly the most exotic man I’ve seen in a long while, and certainly not an old geezer at all. He reminds me of Jude Law, with a close-shaved beard. He’s too rugged to be in rural Hampshire, surely?
‘Nice to meet you!’ He’s smiling at me. ‘Charlie, right? Short for Charlotte? That’s a pretty name.’ He puts out his hand.
I take his hand and smile. It’s warm and soft – and so brown. There’s a fizzing up my spine. ‘Well, no, not short for anything, just Charlie.’ There is no way I am telling him that I am named after a variety of white grape – that is totally uncool. I feel myself redden at just the thought. Why didn’t I wear something different?
‘Where are we going today?’
‘Anywhere you like’ is about to come out of my mouth, instead I quickly say: ‘Stockfields dentists, please.’ I put on my seatbelt.
‘Got an appointment?’ He’s looking at something on the dashboard as he turns the engine on.
The car rattles to life. ‘No. I clean for them.’
Better to honest.
‘Right.’
Just then, he brakes hard as next door’s van screeches out of the driveway; it narrowly misses us. I frown as Daniel’s eyebrows hit his hairline. ‘Sorry, that’s my neighbour – he does come out of there pretty fast,’ I mutter.
‘Someone needs their plumbing done very quickly!’
I laugh. ‘No, I think it’s just the way he drives.’
‘Just as well you’ve got me driving you around with that sort of maniac on the street!’ He turns to grin at me and I notice one of his ears is pierced; there’s nothing in it, but he looks like he’s done a lot more than be a driver all his life. What did Suzie say? South America? There’s something of the Indiana Jones about him that makes me feel very secure indeed.