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Guess Who I Pulled Last Night?
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“Guess Who I Pulled Last Night?”
By Nikki Ashton
Text Copyright © 2013 Nikki Ashton
All Rights Reserved
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Epilogue
Dedication
This is dedicated to ones I love and the people I’ve known; you’ve all helped me to write this book, so thank you
Prologue
“Okay, let me ask you this one; best boy band ever?” Charlotte Price leaned forward and grabbed the bottle of wine from the coffee table before pouring the last few drops into her glass. “Obviously I know the correct answer but do you two?” She pointed a finger at her two friends, Bets and Kerry who were equally as drunk as Charlotte and lay sprawled across her brown leather sofa.
“I’m first,” cried Kerry waving her glass around shakily. “That’s easy; Boyzone. Ah,” she sighed. “Ronan Keating.”
“Wrong!” Charlotte pointed to Bets. “Okay what’s your answer?”
“I hate boy bands why on earth would I have an opinion on it?” Bets shifted around on the sofa and put her feet up on Kerry’s lap.
“Because, everyone has a favourite boy band!” exclaimed Kerry pushing Bets’ feet down onto the floor with a loud sniff.
“Yeah, well I don’t, but if I had to say one it would probably be The Sex Pistols.” She put her feet back, giving Kerry a poke with her toe as she did so.
“Well for starters they are hardly a boy band; more a granddad band these days, and secondly you are totally wrong its Ta…”
“Take That,” chorused Kerry and Bets.
“We know, you tell us often enough doesn’t she, Bets?” Kerry nudged her friend’s legs. “I think you need to understand Charlotte there is no way Gary Barlow is ever going to leave his wife for you. Anyway, if I have to be honest I think that that John Etheridge in the upper sixth was better than any boy band member, he was absolutely gorgeous.”
“Nah, he had bad breath,” said Charlotte, shaking her head, “at least he did when I kissed him.”
“Did you kiss him? God so did I,” groaned Bets, as she took a gulp of wine.
“How come you two both kissed him? I fancied him like mad and never got a sideways glance,” moaned Kerry, turning her head in disgust.
So the evening carried on with the three of them arguing over music and discussing the merits of the instant Cappuccino and other such rubbish. A typical evening for the three women who had met on the first day of primary school and been friends ever since. Over the years there had been the odd fall out over clothes and homework (never boys) but generally they had stuck together through thick and thin and now in their late twenties were closer than ever.
Chapter 1
Charlotte was generally the leader of the group, not because she was bossy, but because she was organised and good with money. She was the one who always sorted out their holiday abroad; she would then religiously collect the money from the other two every month to pay for it. She also threw some brilliant parties, which were talked about for months afterwards. Charlotte’s family was a happy one, consisting of two parents, who were still married after 35 years, an older sister Amanda 32 and a younger brother Tom aged 25. A happy family meant that Charlotte grew up contented and balanced, with just one problem in life: her taste in men, which was not something that she would be given an A star for!
She was a dreamer when it came to romance. As a young teenager she would sit in her bedroom, dreaming about Ben Hathaway the school stud. She fantasied that he would tell her how beautiful she was, and that when he was rich and famous he was going to marry her. It never happened, and as he got older he became fatter and hairier and worked on the bus station, selling the Evening Post. Yes, her childhood had been very special, but the most fun she had was in her teenage years – the years she spent partying with Kerry and Bets.
Charlotte had been the one to invent the “Guess who I pulled last night” list; a piece of harmless fun to list any conquests that they’d had. It would be something to laugh about when they were old ladies doing their knitting.
There were certain rules that had to be followed and failure to do so resulted in the removal of points from each person’s tally. The rules were:
A relative doesn’t count
You can’t have the same bloke twice
Ugly blokes used to bump up your numbers are not counted
Aforementioned ugly blokes must be added to Appendix A – the Ugly Blokes list
A name can only be added to the list if one of the other parties witnesses a full on snog
Anything more than a snog counts as two points and does not have to be witnessed. This will be taken on a matter of trust.
It had all been hilarious during their younger years, and all three had watched while their lists grew at an alarming pace. Charlotte secretly still filled hers in, although it was rather upsetting as there had been no new entries for the last eighteen months!
After two unsuccessful years spent at college where Charlotte failed to gain any qualifications, she managed to get herself a job as an admissions clerk at the local hospital. Kathleen, Charlotte’s mother, was as excitable as a child on Christmas day, and was soon off visiting the neighbours in their cul-de-sac, telling them all that Charlotte had a job in medicine.
Charlotte enjoyed her time at the hospital and her colleagues took quite a shine to the quiet, polite, young teenager, often commenting to each other what a “sweet little thing” she was and “you never hear a peep from her”. This was typical of Charlotte; when she enjoyed doing something she was focused, determined and gave it her all. Hence at her first Christmas Party, just two months after joining the staff, Charlotte gave it her all. She was focused on getting drunk and determined to have a good time. After five glasses of punch and two large glasses of wine, everyone began to see a slightly different side to Charlotte. Her rendition of Elvis’s “Suspicious Minds”, while wearing Pete the mortician’s hairpiece, was definitely the highlight of the evening as far as most people were concerned; in fact seven years later she was still stopped in the street by old colleagues and reminded of how funny it was. On the night, Pete couldn’t thank her enough for her honest opinion of the “dead cat” on his head. It led him to make the bold move of removing the hairpiece forever and sporting the “bald” look. It was also the party at which Charlotte first fell in love. Phil, one of the porters, was a bad choice as it turned out, but there weren’t many nineteen year old men who would hold your hair and rub your back while you were throwing up into a Yukka plant.
The romance with Phil was short lived. Charlotte liked to think he dumped her because he thought that they were too young to set
tle down. Amanda, Charlotte’s sister, was convinced that it was no coincidence that he finished with her, by text, on March the 15th two days before her birthday. In the months that they’d been going out together Phil had earned himself a reputation for being a tad tight. He always “forgot his wallet” when going out for pizza, or lost the tickets that he’d supposedly bought for the cinema and then couldn’t afford to replace. After her birthday he did ask Charlotte back out again. She was ecstatic, but after two weeks of subbing him, even Charlotte agreed with Amanda; this time she dumped him. After Phil, Charlotte lusted after three junior doctors, one medical rep and one patient who had a peanut stuck in his ear.
She had been working at the hospital for two years when she broke her mother’s heart, and resigned. It had been fun, but Charlotte was getting bored with the same mundane tasks every day; she needed a change. So she applied for a job with an insurance company in town and, after two interviews and an informal chat with the owners, Mr Palmer & Mr Blunderstone, she got the job.
Kathleen was apoplectic about Charlotte leaving the medical profession. Amanda, however, saved the day by distracting their mother and announcing that she and Dave - her fiancé of two years - had set a date for their wedding. The wedding arrangements took up most of Kathleen’s time and she soon forgot about Charlotte’s misdemeanour, so she was reprieved; free to start her new job without any fuss.
On Charlotte’s first day she couldn’t wait to meet all her new colleagues, imagining that they’d all be young and single like her and that they would all become good mates, so she was highly disappointed when she found out that the next youngest employee to her at 42, was Maria the canteen lady. Luckily for Charlotte within three months Mr Palmer’s son, Paul, decided to open a subsidiary company on the edge of Chester. He was taking on all new and young members of staff. Of those who worked for Mr Palmer senior there was only Charlotte who was willing to make the move.
Charlotte had shown great promise in her short time in the insurance business, so Paul made her Office Manager of the new premises. She had been shocked when he offered her the position, but Paul had faith in her ability and recognised her organisational skills. Bets and Kerry thought it was more likely he fancied her, but that was one very wrong tree they were barking up, as Paul was gay. He was very open about it and had told Charlotte as soon as she had started working for him.
Charlotte had worked for him ever since building up a great friendship with Paul over the years, not only helping to run his business, but also his life. She’d even been the one to introduce him to his partner, Adam, an old school friend of hers. She was extremely loyal to Paul and was his right hand woman; Paul in turn rewarded Charlotte with a fantastic salary, a company car and lots of responsibility in the business.
During her years working for Paul there had been some romance in Charlotte’s life; one relationship in particular had been serious, but had ultimately broken her heart. Grant Beddows entered her life with a bang, a few days before Christmas. She’d been doing some last minute shopping in a department store and was rushing to get back to work, studying her shopping list at the same time. Failing to see the tall, dark haired man running towards her, they collided at speed, sending Charlotte’s bags flying.
“Oof watch where you’re going,” she yelled, bending down to retrieve a box of chocolates that had flown under a rail of Christmas jumpers.
“Sorry,” the man replied. “Here let me help you.” He reached across for the bags that were strewn over the floor.
Charlotte looked up to give him a long, hard stare for being so clumsy, but hadn’t expected him to be so handsome. His dark fringe hung boyishly over bright blue eyes, his perfect complexion was pink with embarrassment. She quickly looked him up and down, a solid frame filled out a Hugo Boss suit over what looked like an Armani shirt.
“I wasn’t looking where I was going.” he broke her thoughts. “I was rushing to get back to my car before my ticket runs out.” His deep, warm voice sent shivers down Charlotte’s spine.
“No, don’t worry, it was my fault too. I was too busy reading my list to watch where I was going.”
He got to his feet, holding his hand out to Charlotte.
“I think that’s everything, I can’t see anything else.”
Charlotte took his hand blushing at the feeling that she got from his touch. She felt as though her whole body had been injected with a shot of electricity. Her heart was hammering and she could barely stop herself from groaning aloud in pleasure.
All thoughts of rushing back to work, and to the car park were forgotten. They chatted, realising they lived just 3 miles from each other and Grant Beddows, as he introduced himself, asked Charlotte to join him for a drink that evening.
Later that evening, he told Charlotte that he was in the insurance business, which she thought was fate. He was 27 years old and lived alone in a detached house, on one of the new estates that were continually springing up around town. He also told her that he drove a classic car, however Charlotte’s excitement waned when he told her it was a “red Ford Capri with black leather interior”; the type of car her dad always referred to as prick mobiles. Grant was charming and easy to talk to, although even then, Charlotte realised she listened more than she talked. So after a fantastic first date, spending the entire following weekend in bed together, Charlotte knew that she’d met her soul mate. She wanted her family to meet him and grow to love him as much as she did.
Unfortunately, things didn’t quite go to plan. Her family pretty much realised straight away that Grant was in fact an idiot and, was indeed, driving exactly the perfect car for him.
The day of Grant’s introduction to the Prices was the weekend following the New Year. Charlotte wondered if it might be too soon, but Grant allayed her fears, and told her that he was happy to meet everyone. The day, got off to a bad start. The household woke up on the Sunday morning to find Tom lying in his own vomit at the bottom of the stairs. Tom’s birthday, on New Year’s Day, was often forgotten due to the hangovers from the night before, so he generally celebrated it the weekend after the New Year. Hence, on this particular Sunday morning, they all woke to a rather pungent smell pervading the house.
“Solly Mum, solly Dad,” Tom groaned, not lifting his head from the carpet. “I plomise I’ll clean it up, just let me sleep a blit longer.”
Charlotte peered over her parents’ shoulders at her brother’s face squashed against the floor. “You idiot,” she cried. “You know Grant is coming for lunch today.” She sat on the stairs, holding her head in her hands. “Urgh, I bloody well hate you sometimes.”
“Get up you pillock.” Ken Price toe poked his son in the side.
“Oww that really hurt.” Tom sat up clutching himself.
“Good, now get up those stairs and in the shower before I really hurt you…idiot! Kathleen, please get me some hot water and disinfectant,” commanded Ken; he turned to Charlotte next. “Charlie help your stupid brother upstairs, get him in the shower and stay to make sure he doesn’t drown…then again it might be a blessing if he did; numbskull!”
“I’m not getting him undressed, that’s perverted,” Charlotte fumed. Her dad’s face was white with anger. “Okay, but I’m not washing him, I don’t want to see his bits! Come on you tool, get upstairs.” She pushed Tom in front of her, steadying him as he slowly made his way up to the bathroom, on all fours. “God, you stink of kebabs and sick,” she muttered, all the time resisting the temptation to push his head, hard onto the stairs.
After the mess had been cleaned up, and with half a bottle of Charlotte’s Ghost perfume sprayed over the offending area, everyone started to calm down. Kathleen started to prepare the Sunday lunch, while Ken polished the cutlery and glasses. Tom and Charlotte meanwhile were upstairs; Tom sleeping off his hangover and Charlotte trying to relax before Grant arrived. Amanda and Dave were due to arrive within the next half hour, with their gorgeous two year old Archie; the apple of everyone’s eye and the most well behaved, con
tented child ever – well…normally.
That day Archie decided he was going to be as naughty as possible, and had chosen Grant as his victim. It started when Grant arrived. He was introduced to the family, everyone smiled and shook his hand, except for Archie, and he took an instant dislike to Grant. Grant bent down to say hello to Archie, but was immediately hit between the eyes with Archie’s toy hammer.
“Oww, you little…” cried Grant, then noticing all eyes upon him, smiled widely. “I don’t know; he’s a livewire isn’t he?” He bent down again. “Ah let’s be friends, Archie.” Archie whacked him again and burst into tears, screaming at the top of his lungs. He didn’t stop until Amanda picked him up and took him into the kitchen where he couldn’t see Grant.
“Sorry mate,” sighed Dave. “He must be tired.”
“Never mind, lunch is almost ready, shall we sit down?” twittered Kathleen, her neck growing more crimson by the second.
“Mum, Grant has only just got here, give him chance.” Charlotte scowled at her mother, silently warning her to calm down. She then turned to Grant, who was rubbing his head where a red mark had appeared. “Are you okay?” she asked.
“Hmm fine,” he muttered, nodding his head and pushing Charlotte’s hand away. “No real damage.”
There was then some chitchat for ten minutes, until the lounge door slowly opened and a grey looking Tom entered, nodding solemnly at everyone.
“Okay,” he said, through clenched teeth. “Sorry I’m late.” He sat down next to Dave on the sofa, sighing at the effort that it had taken to make it down the stairs.
“Tom is unfortunately feeling a little hung over,” Charlotte explained to Grant. “He’s not normally so quiet and ghost like.”
“Oh dear.” Grant shook his head. “I don’t get it myself, why poison your body and make yourself feel like rubbish, just for a few hours of fun?”
Tom slowly lifted his head, which he had been resting on Dave’s shoulder. “Because, life should be all about having fun, and at the time I didn’t think of the consequences. I’m guessing that you are Grant?”