Charlie was late to work but he hadn’t been in for two days, so turning up at all was probably a bonus. He yawned and looked at his watch; the time did nothing to motivate him. In his back pocket his phone pinged repeatedly and he smirked when he noticed a flurry of photos from Owen because it would be something rude or stupid. Owen would do anything to get Charlie to like him, and that was slightly nauseating, but that didn’t mean that the photos and videos he sent wouldn’t make him laugh, because they usually did. As the pictures and a clip opened on his phone, he stopped to flick through them. Below them was a message from Owen:
Look at this muppet, think he’s trying to reinvent himself. Get your arse into work, maybe have some fun with him today!!!!!!!?
Charlie put his phone in his back pocket and the pictures did what the clock had failed to do: quickened his pace. Joe brought out a frustration in him that Charlie couldn’t contain or explain. Every time he spoke to the man he wanted to lash out. He had a face he wanted to punch; he couldn’t comprehend how a person could have so many obvious problems and get away with seeming so happy. He was like a fucking baby in a grown man’s body, and he was stupid, stupid, stupid. So why, why, did the guy get under his skin?
Charlie entered The Compass Store like a man on a mission, walking down the aisles towards the staff-room with the focused determination of an assassin. He passed Pip in aisle fifteen. She was reorganising the cards; people did like to pick up the cards and then return them to the wrong section, and who wanted to accidentally pick up a ‘sorry you’re leaving’ card when what they wanted was a ‘get well soon’ card?
‘Hey, Charlie, you feeling better? Hugo says you’ve been away for…’ Pip’s voice faded as she realised he had no intention of stopping.
He was a few paces from the staff-room when he crashed into Joe, who was pushing a go-backs trolley in the opposite direction.
‘Charlie!’ was all Joe managed before Charlie grabbed him by his arm and shoved his trolley to one side. He pulled Joe along the short empty corridor that linked the staff-room and the store-room to the public part of the shop, gripping him tightly.
‘Charlie, what? You’re hurting me…’ said Joe, too shocked to be able to fully register being touched by him. Charlie looked over his shoulder, back towards the staff-room. He let go of Joe’s arm and pushed him ahead. Joe took a few stumbling steps, almost tripping over his glistening shoes, which seemed so much longer than his casual shoes, and then broke into a short-paced jog, so that Charlie wouldn’t push him or grab him again; he held on to his sore arm where Charlie had squeezed it so tightly.
‘What the absolute fuck were you thinking?’ Charlie hissed, looking over his shoulder yet again.
‘I’m sorry,’ said Joe, ‘I did not mean to upset you, I just wanted you to have the arnica. I should not have come to your house.’
‘Not that,’ said Charlie. ‘I’m talking about your fucking fashion sense. You look like you’ve come to a fancy dress party dressed as three different people.’
Joe said nothing. Charlie was really angry, and maybe it was that which stopped Joe asking which three people he meant.
Joe continued to trot slightly ahead of Charlie in short steps as if his ankles were tied together; Charlie walked fiercely behind him. They proceeded back down aisle fifteen and Pip turned to them both, a stack of misplaced cards in her hands. She smiled instinctively when she saw the two boys, but her smile slipped like the sentiments of the cards she was rearranging: from a sunny, bright, ‘happy birthday’ type smile, to ‘deepest sympathy’, in a flash.
‘Are you okay?’ she said to Joe, but she turned almost 180 degrees as they whizzed past her wordlessly. When they got to the end of the aisle, Charlie paused, reached up and grabbed a box from a shelf, and then they both disappeared around the corner. Pip tucked the cards under her arm and fished in her jeans pocket for her phone. Her finger hovered over Hugo’s phone number, but much as her instinct told her to message him, a stronger instinct diverted her elsewhere. She looked up Chloe’s number and texted:
Are you in today? Just seen Charlie and Joe. Don’t know what’s happening but Joe looks really upset and Charlie looks furious. You should see Joe, he looks awful. Pip x