Her One Mistake(90)
Charlotte pushes herself out of her seat. There was a time when she would’ve stayed out of other people’s business, but she can’t allow this behavior. As she strides down the aisle she can feel the nervous glances of the other passengers, who likely think she’s mad for getting involved. But as soon as she reaches the couple, Charlotte stops short. The man is holding his girlfriend’s face, kissing her on the nose and telling her he’s sorry and how much he loves her. Choking back her sobs with laughter, she tells him she loves him too. Both of them are oblivious to Charlotte hovering, about to step in.
She could keep walking and pretend she was going to the bathroom, but she can’t be bothered with that charade and instead makes her way back to her seat. An arm reaches out midway down the aisle, stopping her in her tracks. Charlotte looks at the old woman who says, “You did a good thing there, love. You were the only one prepared to step in.”
Charlotte turns back to the couple. “I don’t think the girl realizes she needs help.” She feels angry that he’s treating her like this. That girl is someone’s daughter, and she knows she’d want someone to step in if it were Molly or Evie.
“No,” the old woman says. “But she will one day.”
“Maybe I should go back and say something,” Charlotte says, still watching them.
“I wouldn’t,” the lady says. “You don’t always know when you’re doing more harm than good. If she’s not ready for help, then neither of them will thank you.”
? ? ?
HARRIET’S PLACE IS easy to find. It’s at the end of a pleasant street, where just around the corner there’s a small row of quaint shops and across the road a lush park with a pavilion and a pond and a children’s playground.
Charlotte hovers on the sidewalk outside. Suddenly the thought of seeing Harriet is far too overwhelming and she needs to force herself up the short path to the front door, ring the bell, and wait without running. Her heart is beating hard and she wonders if she might throw up when Harriet opens the door.
Harriet is wearing a long blue dress with a white cardigan. Her hair has been cut short and colored a much richer brown. Her mouth that sparkles with gloss breaks into a small smile as she steps aside to let Charlotte in. Charlotte mumbles “Thank you” as she passes and is walking to the kitchen when Alice rushes in, armed with a handful of flowers that she thrusts into Charlotte’s hand.
“Oh, goodness,” she says as she bends down to the little girl. “Thank you.” The tears surprise her. She didn’t expect to be so emotional at the sight of Alice, who’s even taller than Molly now. Her hair has been braided down the back and tied with a huge yellow ribbon. The little girl is chattering about the garden, something about a rosebush and about how the new baby sleeps in a cot next to Mummy’s bed, and is asking if Charlotte would like to see her bedroom because she’s hung her butterflies in the window.
“I’d love to, maybe a little later?” she says, straightening up. Alice won’t stop talking, excitedly telling her all about school, and now she is pulling a drawing off the fridge that she hands to Charlotte.
“That’s my picture of the school rabbit,” Alice says. “It’s a real one.”
Harriet is drifting around them, filling the kettle and sliding a cake onto a plate that she puts on the small round table sitting snugly in the corner. A pile of muslins are neatly folded on its edge and baby bottles are lined up in a row behind the sink. She wonders where the baby is as Alice carries on.
“I go to big school.” Alice smiles proudly. “I go every morning five times a week.” She holds up five fingers.
“That’s very good counting. Do you like it at your big school?”
Alice nods eagerly. “The rabbit is called Cottontail and we can hold her at break time and yesterday it was my turn to feed her, but do you know you’re not supposed to feed them too many carrots?”
“I didn’t know that.”
“It’s because they have sugar and they can give the rabbits bad teeth. My teacher said that in assembly.”
“You’re a bright little button.” Charlotte smiles at her.
“She is,” Harriet says as she comes to stand next to her daughter, resting her hand on Alice’s head. “She doesn’t forget a thing,” she adds, but in a way that suggests this isn’t necessarily a good thing. “Alice, why don’t you take a piece of cake and watch some TV?” As soon as she passes Alice a plate, the girl is out of the room.
“She seems very happy.” Charlotte watches her go.
Harriet nods. “I hope so. But then you don’t always know for sure, do you? Please, have a piece.” Harriet hands her a plate. Charlotte takes it and sits down.
“George is asleep,” Harriet says, frowning as she nervously checks her watch. “He’s already been down two hours. He’ll probably wake soon.” Charlotte remembers those days like they were yesterday—she can’t tell if Harriet’s desperate for George to wake up or desperate for him not to. “I was pleased to hear from you,” Harriet says. “But now that you’re here I have a feeling this isn’t a friendly visit.” She tries to laugh but it’s a nervous sound that comes out.
“No, maybe not,” Charlotte admits. “I’m struggling.”