The Other Life of Charlotte Evans

‘I know, I know, I was only joking.’ A little bit. Truth was, Charlotte would have invited all one hundred and fifty of their dancers along to the wedding if money were no object.

Unfortunately, money was indeed very much an object. Finding enough to pay the mortgage on a house just off Westbourne Grove, plus the rent on the dance studio and general everyday living, took pretty much every penny she and Ben earned. ‘Can you imagine, though? Some people actually do have that many bridesmaids. We’d need to save up for another three years just to pay for the fabric for all the little dresses. And I don’t think Ben’s going to wait any longer.’

‘No, that man wants you as his, that’s for sure. Did you get any further with convincing him to do a proper first dance at the reception?’

‘Other than his very uncoordinated Gangnam style, he’s not into learning anything.’

Lissa smirked and shook her head, always unable to fathom how it was that some people just didn’t have the rhythm gene. ‘But he has a dancer for a girlfriend. Surely he wants to be able to keep up with you?’

‘No. He’s too focused on making sure the house is ready for his parents coming over from Ireland for the big day. And I know he’s right, but he’s such a perfectionist. He has an idea of how something should be and he won’t rest until it’s done properly. It’s very endearing, but a little frustrating.’ Charlotte felt a little disloyal talking about her fiancé like that. He didn’t want second best, and that was a good attribute to have, right? ‘It would be fun to do something, though, on the night. Don’t you think? Is everyone expecting it?’

Another groan and Lissa swapped her long, slender legs – legs Charlotte had envied since back in their days at the Royal Ballet School – on the barre. ‘These days everyone expects something a bit different at any wedding they go to. Well, darling, you’ve got eight weeks, so there’s time to convince him yet.’

Time seemed to be rushing by. ‘Eight weeks… sounds miles away, but I bet it creeps up on me. I’ve so many lists I don’t know where to start.’

‘I do. Lunch! I’m starving. And knackered. I need either a big sleep or a huge injection of caffeine. IV, straight into the jugular.’

Charlotte took a long look at her friend’s face. Yup, she’d definitely been better. ‘Late night was it?’

‘Yes. There was a band on at the Apollo, then we went to a party over in Camden. It was great. You should have come.’

‘Oh, I was far too busy choosing light fittings. Because that’s how I roll these days.’ Thinking back to the days before Ben, and the crazy things she used to get up to with Lissa, Charlotte grinned. ‘I don’t have the stamina to do an all-nighter and then come and dance like we used to. I don’t know how you do it.’

‘Coffee, mainly. And food.’ Wrapping her arm into Charlotte’s, Lissa led her to the studio door. ‘Come on, before I die of starvation. The salad bar? Or a burger? Please say burger.’ The last statement was a loud, rushed whisper.

But Charlotte shook her head and unhooked her arm. ‘Not today, hun. I’ve got a hot lunch date with a paintbrush. But I’ll walk with you to the high street.’

‘Wow, the glamorous life of a homeowner. You have changed, my girl. Who’d have thought you’d be all domesticated by the age of twenty-five?’

There was a fierce swirl of pride in Charlotte’s gut. They’d worked hard for this. Their ramshackle house had so much potential and she didn’t care how long it took them to do it up – they had the rest of their lives to play interior decorators. Plus, the studio was a walk away from both home and her mum’s round the corner. Perfect. ‘I know, I know. It’s exciting… working towards a future.’

‘And a mortgage. Shudder.’ Her friend grimaced. ‘Maybe, when I’ve scratched my travel itch and been around the world three times, I might agree with you, but don’t hold your breath.’

Here they were at that intersection of life, straddling adulthood and responsibility and independence, wondering whether it was the right time to settle down or whether to hang on just a little bit longer to being carefree.

Charlotte smiled to herself. It was definitely the right time for her and Ben. Something had just clicked when she’d met him at a friend of a friend’s party and she’d known, right then and there, he was her future. Sounded silly admitting it, but there it was. ‘Well, we’re planning foreign holidays for when we’re not quite so financially stretched and before kids, so who knows? We might meet you somewhere halfway across the world for a catch-up. Ben’s just finished night shift and has a couple of days off, so we thought we’d get another coat of paint on the lounge. I said I’d help when I could. Just more things to cross off our pre-wedding list.’

And saying that reminded her of all the other things she needed to do before the after school classes. After the painting, it was sorting the accounts for the end of year, which were already overdue. Organising a fitting for her wedding dress and thinking about flowers and… and… her head started to swirl. She took a big, deep breath and blew it out. Two months out and things were busy already.

Her phone buzzed as Lissa started to close down the computer in the office and make moves towards the front door. ‘Hang on, Liss. I’ll just check…’

I like paint pots and I cannot lie.

What the? Charlotte looked at the text and laughed. Typical Ben. She flicked him an answer: I thought it was big butts?

He came back almost immediately: I like those too. And hot little sexy ones like yours. I have a loaded brush and I’m not afraid to use it…

She quickly replied: Tease

Ben: Fancy a roll-er in the bedroom?

God, his jokes were bad, but that was just one of the reasons she loved him: I’ve only got a couple of hours and we’re supposed to be doing the undercoat…

Ben: Plenty of time to strip and roll…?

Charlotte: Later?

No. She deleted her instinctive answer, because perhaps Lissa was just a little bit right; maybe she was starting to feel the weight of responsibility, all grown-up. Since when had things come to this? Putting sex off to do chores? There’d been a time when they couldn’t get enough of each other, sneaking out of work to meet up. He used to swing by the stage door at Sadler’s Wells when she was in the corps, and they’d find a dark corner somewhere backstage and… well, now things were just so much more grown-up. with sex in only appropriate locations and, usually, on his day off, otherwise he was too tired. Lissa would be appalled. Thinking about it now, Charlotte was too.

She quickly tapped on the keys: I’ll be back in five… who gets to strip first?

Ben: You. And I’ll be waiting, tools at the ready ;-)

She felt the blush start at her face and quickly spread. He’d always been like this; playful, loving, attentive. ‘Ha! Everything’s about sex with this man.’

Lissa was watching her, hands on her hips and foot tapping. ‘Not such a bad thing?’

‘No. Not at all. It’s just…’ She thought about what kind of snappy reply she could give him.

But Lissa nudged her in the ribs. ‘Hello?… I’m literally dying here and you’re giggling and writing sweet nothings. Is my near death by starvation not registering with you?’

‘Sorry, Lissa. Ben’s just… you know how he is.’

‘Yes, I do.’ Her friend did a pretend gagging action. ‘But he’s a good guy, I guess… Mr Perfect for you. If ever there was such a thing. I’ll save you the women are doing it for themselves lecture for another day – I prefer to do that on a full stomach. Actually, I prefer to do most things on a full stomach, so let’s get locked up and go.’

Charlotte checked she’d locked the door and started towards the footpath. ‘One day you’ll meet the perfect man for you too.’

‘Nah. Gosling’s taken. Even I couldn’t take on both Hemsworths – and don’t ever make me choose between them. And Tatum’s already got two kids… I couldn’t deal with all that, thanks.’

Poor Lissa. Determined to play the field and fight the aging process every step of the way. ‘Okay, so go ahead and get your Mammoth burger. I’ll see you later, when you can tell me all about your night at the Apollo.’

Her friend grinned and blushed… which was so not like her. ‘It’s what happened after the Apollo that I want to tell you about.’

‘Oh? Tell me now.’ Charlotte’s phone buzzed.

Ben again. You have four minutes, then I’m coming to find you. I’m starting the strip right now…

She laughed. ‘Shoot, I think I’m on a promise. Tell me later.’

There was a tired but satisfied glint in Lissa’s eyes that Charlotte hadn’t registered until now. ‘We can swap the gory details after class. Go. Go. Booty calls.’

London was putting on a very sunny show, considering it was early June and really only just dipping into summer. There was a smattering of colour in people’s gardens and a promising heat in the air. The sunshine always put a smile on everyone’s faces, and knowing what was waiting for her back at their half-renovated two-up two-down Victorian terrace put a spring in Charlotte’s step too.

‘Hey, gorgeous!’ She bounded into the house. There was a flutter in her stomach which made her feel as if she was doing something illicit, very naughty. Sex in the afternoon! On a school day. Instead of painting more coats of Farrow and Ball’s best Cornforth White on not-quite-straight walls.

He met her at the door, but she was slightly disappointed to see that, even though his top half was stripped bare and his honed muscles were rippling, his DIY jeans were still in situ. There was a definite glint in his lovely dark-brown eyes, though, a heat and a warmth – sex and love. He pressed a kiss on her mouth. ‘Hi, honey, you’re home.’

‘I certainly am. But you appear to be very overdressed…’ Her hand reached for his waist and she pulled him closer, playing with the top of his jeans zip.