The Decoy Date

Chapter Six

Her fear had been building all week, the dread of her mother finding out her boyfriend was fake, the dread of everyone finding out her fake boyfriend was one of her worst enemies, the dread of people reacting the same way as Jess had and judging her for her decision. She’d come close to calling her mother and feigning illness to get out of the visit, but it was her dad’s day and she really wanted to see him; plus Charlie had been great all week, genuinely interested in her family and the stories she told of her childhood growing up with the world’s most annoying mother.

Together they’d come up with a plan, deciding on a backstory to their relationship and that they would stay “together” until after Daisy’s wedding, that way she had a date for big day and her mother wouldn’t keep trying to find her one. They would sort out how to break up when the time came. When she’d met her mother and sister for brunch, she’d managed to avoid the questions both were firing at her, making them wait until the weekend. Mainly because she wasn’t sure on the answers and didn’t want to drop herself in the s**t before they’d even met Charlie.

The week had gone too quickly, they’d only just begun to learn everything about each other when Saturday was upon them. Jess arrived at the shop early, they’d decided to close for the day instead of bringing in cover. She wasn’t at all happy about the arrangement of going in Charlie’s car, but gave in when she found out he had a vintage beetle and her only other option would have been on the back of Imogen’s Vespa, an experience she’d endured a few times before and as she says never again.

The two of them waited for Charlie to arrive, an awkward silence had settled between them and had for most of the week; Imogen thought it must have been the longest Jess hadn’t talked to her since an incident where she had thrown up in Jess’ anorak hood after a trip on the Ferris wheel when they were eight. That time they hadn’t spoken for a week and only had because Imogen’s mother had enrolled her in ballet classes, which Jess found hilarious and made sure Imogen knew this. Even as an eight year old she was a little pretentious.

“I know you don’t approve of this whole Charlie thing and I get that, but please don’t give anything away today!” Imogen looked at her best friend through puppy dog eyes, hoping her pleading would work for the first time ever; Jess was a hard nut to crack.

“I wouldn’t do that, I wouldn’t sacrifice you to your mother I know what she’s like; but I’m still going to give him a hard time on the drive there.”

“That’s okay, I think he’s expecting it from you anyway after that punch you landed on him last week.” They were both laughing as Charlie’s car pulled up on the pavement in front of them, one look at his face set them both off again and it took five minutes before they were even capable of getting into the car.

“Is this thing really safe? it seems a bit of a hunk of junk.” Jess settled into the back seat making a big show of putting her seatbelt on, rattling the door and bouncing on the seat to make sure it would hold her. Charlie watched her with an air of annoyance, Imogen could see him biting his tongue trying not to make a comment that would put him even further on the wrong side of Jess.

“Monty’s fine. Both my father and I have taken great care of him, he’s my baby.” She noticed the slight crack in his voice at the mention of his father and let her hand drift to his on the gearstick, he smiled warmly at her and started the engine before Jess noticed their small interaction.

An hour and a half of jokes about Charlie being in love with a car, an argument about who was better: The Smiths or The Cure, in which no agreement could be reached and an almost crash caused by said argument and they arrived at her parents’ house in Broadstairs, Kent. Imogen looked up at the large sea front house her parents had bought after her father had retired, there was always something about it that made her uneasy and the fact one of the neighbours had told her a ghost story about an old spinster dying there certainly hadn’t helped. She tried to avoid coming down here whenever possible, but there was no ducking out now.

“This is your parents’ house, it’s . . .”

“Creepy, spooky, weird.” Jess looked up at the old Tudor style front, it was in complete antithesis to the Georgian townhouse they’d lived in in Camden. It wasn’t friendly or welcoming, she was surprised her dad had agreed to move down here; she was sure her mother used an ultimatum that was something along the lines of move or die.

“Yeah!  It’s not really what I was expecting.” The house seemed to be giving her a particularly frosty reception today, the October cold front they’d been sustaining definitely didn’t help. Imogen shivered as she continued to stare at the vast, hostile building in front of her, almost daring her to run away and hide from the people she was about to face. “You okay?” Charlie asked, looking at her with a concerned face. What the hell am I doing? I’ll never pull this off, what was I thinking? She managed a slight nod as she swallowed the bile that was rising in her throat.

Jess rang the doorbell as the three of them huddled together on the doorstep, Charlie pulled her hand into his; she could feel his pulse hammering in the tips and gave his fingers a slight squeeze hoping to reassure not only him but herself.

“Once more unto the breach dear friends.” Jess smiled nervously, she hated coming here as much as Imogen did. A shadow appeared behind the door and time seemed to stand still waiting for that first moment of recognition and the beginning of the end of her life; because her mother would surely kill her if she found out Charlie was a fake. As the heavy wooden door pulled back to reveal a spotless black and white tiled hallway, Imogen swore she felt a breeze chill her from inside the house; it certainly felt a lot warmer and more welcoming on this side of the door.

“Ah Imogen you’re here, we’ve been expecting you.” There was definitely an evil scientist hidden away in her personality, she waited for her mother to call in her assistants to bundle her into a laboratory and strap her to an operating table next to set of rusting torture instruments; of course she didn’t actually need the instruments to torture Imogen usually what came out of her mouth was enough. Carole’s lips tightened into an unwelcoming, cold smile as she saw Jess, however immediately brightened as she saw Charlie.

“Come in, come in, it’s no use standing outside in the cold.” She closed the door as the three of them shuffled reluctantly into the hallway, she walked back to the front of them, taking their coats and hanging them on the old wooden hat stand that had been part of furniture for as long as she could remember.

“You must be Charlie, we spoke on the phone last week.” She stretched out a perfectly manicured hand and offered it to Charlie, who looked as if he were frozen to the spot and unable to take his eyes away from it, like it might jump up, grab his throat and throttle him. Imogen watched as he swallowed trying to clear the lump that had settled in his throat, rendering him speechless. Finally he managed to connect his brain with his body and regain all function, taking the hand and introducing himself properly.

Imogen held her breath waiting for any tiny slip-up that would give them away, but it didn’t come and her mother began reeling off who else had turned up and who they were still waiting to arrive, including Daisy and Sam. When they reached the living room or ‘Drawing room’ as her mother liked to call it, making them sound like characters in some rejected Jane Austen novel.; she introduced Charlie to a few of her friends and leaving him with them before returning to Imogen’s side.

“He’s really nice Imogen, you never mentioned he was so good-looking. He reminds me of your father when I first met him.” She looked dreamily back to Charlie reminiscing about her youth, she was only eighteen when she’d met Imogen’s father and twenty one when they got married. “Very polite as well, what does he do?” She glanced back at her daughter her eyes shining with something close to pride but not quite there.

“He’s a maths teacher. Where’s dad?”

“A teacher, so he’s intelligent and good with children, please don’t mess this up Imogen!” Her jaw dropped as her mother continued to stare at Charlie, smiling wider than the Cheshire cat.

“What makes you think I would mess it up? All those men you set me up with were the ones that messed those dates up. They all had hidden secrets I mean one wanted to tie me up for Christ’s sake. Where’s dad?” Anger built in her as she tried to distract her mother’s attention away from her boyfriend, uh fake boyfriend. Every failed date had to be her fault; it couldn’t be the fault of the men her mother had chosen, her judgement was perfect of course.

“Well I’ll have to take your word on that, apart from Peter Rowley, his arrest was an awful business. Shook his mother no end, there was a real scandal in the neighbourhood when the story was on the news.” Ah, The Neighbourhood, the houses on this street that belonged to the better-off in the community, Imogen thought to herself. “Your father isn’t here yet, your sister is picking him up from the club; he’s having a birthday lunch there with his friends. He should be here in about fifteen minutes, he has no idea I’ve organised this little soiree for him.”

“Not again mother, you know how much he hates surprises.” Imogen’s heart sank at this new piece of information, memories of previous surprise parties pushed into her memory. Ten years ago at Ian Jones’ fiftieth birthday he’d gone out with a few mates and ended up absolutely bladdered, nobody had told him about the surprise party and he ended up vomiting over his wife and his sister, not a pretty sight. Then a few years ago on his 57th birthday, her mother had taken him to see a show he’d wanted to see for a while, only to have the interval interrupted by the cast singing Happy Birthday and drawing everybody’s attention to him; the one thing he hates the most, exactly like his eldest daughter.

Imogen shook her head as her mother went to answer the door again, Jess had disappeared soon after they arrived probably in search of alcohol to numb the pain of seeing Imogen’s mother. The drinks bar was always well-stocked at the parties her mother organised and the barmen could always knock something up to take your mind off anything. Imogen headed to the kitchen in search of her own liquid distraction.

                                                             *

Charlie stood with a smile plastered to his face as he half listened to a woman telling him a story about how her daughter had released one hundred white doves at her wedding and they’d ended up shitting on everyone in the wedding party and ruining the photos, I mean what do you expect they’re bloody birds. He offered his sympathies as he looked round for Imogen who had disappeared not long after they’d got into the house.

He was beginning to panic she’d run off and left him with all these unknown people as some sort of cruel punishment for his past actions, a sort of bad karma. Then she appeared walking towards him with a big grin on her face as she saw who he was talking to; thank God she’s come to rescue me, I can’t face another story from this crazy woman. His heart leapt as he saw a bottle of beer in one hand and a glass of white wine in the other, she could definitely read his mind.

“Hello Aunt Sally, I see you’ve met my boyfriend Charlie. I hope you weren’t flirting with him too much, I don’t think I could compete with you for him.” She handed him the ice cold bottle and leaned against his hip, he moved a hand to her waist and squeezed lightly, grateful for the rescue and the drink. He smiled as he saw the woman’s reaction to Imogen’s joke and thought how warm and genuine she was.

“Imogen, dear I didn’t realise he was your boyfriend, your mother had to answer the door before she introduced us properly. That woman is always rushing around, I don’t know what my brother is going to think of this party. I really don’t want a repeat of last time, it took me a week to get the sick smell out of my hair and clothes.” Charlie looked at Imogen confused but she just laughed and motioned that she’d tell him later, he couldn’t wait to hear that story.

“I was just telling him about Melanie’s wedding and the chaos of all those doves she let go after the ceremony, you were one of the lucky ones that didn’t get covered in bird s**t weren’t you.” He reeled in shock as the old woman swore and felt Imogen shake with laughter beside him, he’d definitely heard the polite version of the story; Aunt Sally was undoubtedly growing on him. As Imogen settled on his hip again, he felt comfortable, for some reason she felt right leant against him like she was meant to be there and he didn’t want to let her go, at least not yet.

“I’ll leave you to your man, he’s very handsome; I bet your mother loves him.” She winked at the woman at his side and was gone, champagne glass in hand toddling off to a group of young men on the other side of the room.

“She’s a terrible flirt you know and she likes you, you better be careful. Aunt Sally likes her younger men, she’s been married five times and each husband gets younger every wedding; she’s just divorced a 33 year old. You could definitely be next.” He saw the flirty twinkle in her eye as she moved off his side, the cold rushed to where her heat had just left.

“You seem a bit more relaxed. I thought you were going to break my hand earlier with your Vulcan death grip on me.” He smiled as her cheeks flushed and she looked away from his eyes to the floor and back; a gesture that sent his heart into overdrive, he was not expecting that reaction but enjoyed it none the less.

“Yes, well my mother is no longer in the vicinity and I may have had a few drinks in anticipation of what happens when my dad arrives anytime now. He’s not a fan of surprises, so he may go ape-s**t when he gets here and that is a lot more entertaining if you’ve had a drink or two, believe me.” He looked into her eyes and seriously thought about leaning down and putting his lips to hers; she couldn’t argue, they were supposed to be boyfriend and girlfriend and what do boyfriend and girlfriend do but kiss. Just as his lips nudged hers, someone called out behind them.

“He’s just pulling into the driveway, positions everyone, positions.” Imogen’s mum ran around like headless chicken pushing people to where she wanted them to be then hid behind the doorway herself. His heart sped up as the anticipation of meeting Imogen’s father ramped up, he reached out for her hand which she offered with a nervous smile.