Charlie had always been careful not to do the dirty on his own doorstep. Any extra-curricular sexual activity on his part had always been well away from the home base… stag weekends abroad, hens looking for one last fling before saying “I do” – God, those words again – or business meetings at the sister company in Birmingham where the totty was hot even if the accent was not. But this thing with Kev was a bit too close for comfort. It was playing with fire. It was also the longest he’d ever had another woman on the go. Usually he loved them and left them. One-night stands with no strings had been the rule. Except he’d broken his own rule. Somehow he’d let this woman become a lover. Charlie had been in her bed more times than he could now remember, and he didn’t like that. It made him feel uneasy. It also thrilled him.
If someone had asked Charlie whether he’d cheated on Willow a lot, he’d have looked incredulous and said, “Most definitely not”. The reality was that for every year he’d been with Willow, there had been as many women. It wasn’t a good track record. Charlie told himself that it was purely because he’d not had enough time to sow wild oats before buying a house with Willow and “sort of” settling down.
He’d met Willow on a lad’s holiday in Ibiza where the boys’ collective plan had been to booze and bonk the night away, then recover under a sunshade on the beach during the day. Charlie had spotted Willow two sun loungers along from his, laying on her back. Her Rapunzel-gold hair was fanned out around her head before spilling down on to the wet sand. She’d looked almost like a mermaid with her shell-coloured bikini struggling to contain two magnificent breasts that gently rose and fell as she snoozed. A pretty but not-so-ample brunette had been on the sun bed next to the blonde vision. The brunette had caught Charlie looking. He’d smiled helplessly and the girl had got up and come over.
‘I’ll get straight to the point,’ she’d said, doing exactly that. ‘Is it me or my friend you’re interested in?’
Charlie had been mildly amused at the brunette’s frankness.
’You’re very lovely,’ he’d said, smiling disarmingly. ‘But I do rather favour curvy girls.’
‘What you really mean is that you’re a boob man,’ she’d tutted.
‘Yes,’ he’d grinned. ‘But you’re definitely Stuart’s type’ – he’d pointed to his mate crashed out under the sunbrella to his right – ‘so go and wake him up and tell him to buy us all some ice-cold beers.’
Charlie had later found out that the brunette was called Emma. As he’d predicted, Stuart had immediately hit it off with Emma and they’d ended up inseparable for the remainder of the holiday, just like Charlie and Willow. But, in Charlie’s case, instead of the holiday romance coming to a natural end, he’d reconnected with Willow once home and been with her ever since. He should have taken a leaf out of Stu’s book and waved good-bye to her at the airport but, at the time, Willow’s golden hair and shapely figure had mesmerised him. Apart from anything else, he couldn’t bring himself to hurt her. Willow was like a puppy. Very, very sweet.
Charlie wasn’t prepared to risk his car being spotted by anyone who might – no matter how unlikely – know him, so he parked two streets away. Walking towards the house, he found the door on the latch.
‘Darling,’ she purred, pulling him into the hallway. ‘You came.’
‘Not yet, but I will shortly,’ he quipped, scooping her into his arms.
And the rest was kiss-tory.
A lack of sleep had cast a pallor over Charlie’s usually glowing complexion. Poring over a merger and acquisitions report, he heard rather than saw Ben – a longstanding colleague and now long-time friend – pulling out his chair at the next cubicle along.
‘Hello, hello,’ said Ben with a grin as he flicked on his screen. ‘You’re in very early. Trouble at home?’
‘Course not,’ said Charlie, looking up.
He made sure his expression conveyed innocence. Ben might be one of his best buddies, but there were some secrets you kept to yourself. Especially when they were so close to home.
‘I should’ve done this wretched report on Brown & Humphrey before going home on Friday,’ Charlie explained. ‘Consequently, I spent the whole weekend worrying about it. I decided to set the alarm for