Gone and Good Riddance
What do you mean ‘the number you have dialled is not available’? I just heard someone pick up a few minutes ago! Charlotte stood in the hallway, pressing her mobile to her ear.
Her eyes drifted to the chest of drawers.
The little jewellery box was in its usual spot. But something looked off: the lid was left slightly ajar.
Tom! she called out, her voice echoing through the flat. Are you in the bathroom?
Charlotte moved slowly towards the chest. The cold of the polished wood seeped into her fingertips as she opened the lid. It was empty. Completely.
Not even a receipt shed kept as a makeshift bookmark remained.
Her jewellery was goneand so was her savings. Though, to be fair, shed handed over the cash herself
Oh, God The words slipped out as she slumped to the floor. How did I let this happen? Just last night, we had that silly argument about paint colours You promised wed get down to Cornwall in August
The whole mess started so innocently. Last June her little Corsa conked outa seized piston.
The garage quoted her an outrageous sum, so in frustration she went to the local Car Care Facebook group.
Hi all, any tips on freeing up a stuck caliper piston on my Corsa? Would love some advice! She attached a photo of her filthy wheel.
Replies poured in. Some said, Dont touch the mechanics, love!, others, Just buy a new part.
Then a message popped up from a bloke named Thomas85:
Dont listen to them, love. Just buy a can of WD-40 and a repair kit for about £30.
Take the wheel off, use the pedal to gently nudge the pistondont push it all the way out.
Clean up with brake fluid, grease it.
If the cylinders clean, youll be sorted.
Charlotte read the advice twice. It sounded solid, not show-offy.
What if the cylinders pitted? she replied.
Then youll need to replace it, but judging by the photo, your cars well looked after. Doubt its that bad. If you need more help, just DM meIll do what I can.
Thats how it all started.
Thomas seemed to know his stuff inside out.
Within a week, hed advised her on oil choice, the best spark plugs, and even which coolant to avoid.
Charlotte began to look forward to his messages.
Youre basically my hero, she typed in late July. I was thinking how about we meet up? Coffees on me. Or maybe something stronger, since you saved me a fortune.
His reply didnt come straightaway. It was a good three hours before her phone finally pinged.
Charlotte, Id love to, honestly. But Im not around at the moment. On a very long trip away. Overseas, you could say.
Wow, she replied, eyebrows raised. That far?
Further than you can imagine. Listen, I dont want to mislead you. I really like talking to you, as a person. But the truth is Im not away on a business trip. Im in prison. HMP Middlemarch, in case that means anything to you.
The phone slipped from her hands onto the sofa. Something clenched hard in her chest.
A convict? Shea respectable woman, an accountant at a big firmhad spent a fortnight chatting with a criminal?
For what? she typed, fingers trembling.
Fraud. Made a stupid mistake, got in too deep, bit set up as well. Ive less than a year left. If you want to delete the chat, I understand.
Charlotte didnt reply. She simply blocked him and spent the next three days in a daze. Her colleagues even asked if she was feeling ill.
All the while her mind spun round one question:
Why? Why is it the clever, decent, capable blokes end up in there?
A week later, she found a message notification on her old email. Hed obviously taken her address from their first chatsshe hadnt removed him, just closed the conversation.
Charlotte, the message read, No hard feelings, honestly. I really expected this. Youre far too good for someone like me.
Just wanted to thank you for chatting. Those were the best two weeks Ive had in three years. Take care. Goodbye.
Reading it in her kitchen, Charlotte burst into tears. She felt so sorryfor him, for herself, for the injustice of it all.
Why is everyone else so lucky, and me?the married men, the mummys boys, and when someone normal comes along hes locked up. She asked herself over and over.
And her silence said it all.
***
Charlotte tried going on dates, but nothing felt quite right.
One chap spent half the evening nattering on about his stamp collection, another turned up with dirt under his fingernails and insisted they split the bill at the café.
By Marchher thirty-fifth birthdayCharlotte felt lonelier than ever.
That morning, there was a notification.
Happy Birthday, dear Charlotte! read Thomass message. I know I shouldnt bother you, but I had to say it. You deserve only the best.
If I could, Id carry you around like royalty.
Ive made something from bread and wire here If I could, Id give it to you.
Just know that somewhere up north, theres a bloke with a mug of the worlds worst tea toasting your health today.
Thank you, Thomas, she replied at last. That means a lot.
You replied! He practically bounced with joy in the next message. How are you? Hows the Corsa? Did she cope in the frost?
Thats how it all started up again.
They messaged every day now. Thomas would call when he could.
His voicelow, a bit gravellywas surprisingly warm.
He told her about his life: growing up with a brother, how the brother now looked after his nephews, and how Thomas wished to start over.
I wont go back home, Charlotte, hed say during her dinners. Old mates there, bad influences. I want somewhere new. Im good with my handstheres always work as a builders mate or in a garage.
Where would you go? shed ask, barely breathing.
Id come to you. Rent a bedsit or a small flat nearby, just to know youre in the same city, breathing the same air.
After thatwell, well see. I dont want to force anything
By May, Charlotte was completely smitten.
She knew his routine, when he had inspections, when it was bath day, when he was on workshop duty.
She sent him parcels: tea, chocolates, warm socks, bits to use for his tinkering.
Just hold on, Thomasplease dont get into any trouble, shed beg.
For you, love, Ill be a model inmate, hed laugh. Im out in April.
Ill be waiting.
***
In April, Charlotte found herself outside the prison gates, her heart thumping as if it might burst.
She waited, clutching a bag with a new jacket, jeans, trainerseverything hed need.
He walked outshort, stocky, hair cropped with grey beginning to show. He didnt quite match the photos.
But when he grinned and said,
Alright, love?, she threw her arms around him.
Youre real, she whispered into his prickly cheek.
Not going anywhere, he said, hugging her tightly. You smell amazingwhats that, flowers?
They headed back to hers.
The first week was a dream. Thomas immediately got stuck in: fixing the leaky tap, repairing the dodgy door lock that had jammed for months.
Evenings theyd sip wine in the kitchen, him spinning funny tales of his previous life, artfully dodging the rough edges.
Listen, Tom, she said on the tenth day. You talked about renting your own place, but Is that really necessary? Theres plenty of room here, and its nicer together.
You can save up for tools, get settled in.
That doesnt feel right, he muttered, stirring his tea. Im a man, supposed to provide my own roof.
Instead, Im living on you, eating your food.
Oh, stop it, she laughed, putting her hand over his. Were not strangers. Youll get work soon, thingsll get better.
My brother called yesterday, he said softly, looking away. His sons really ill, needs a private operation.
He wants a loan, but you know what Ive gotnothing but moths in my pocket. Its humiliating, Charlotte. Thats my family.
How much? she asked.
Quite a bit. Five grand. Theyve managed most of it, but Im thinking of going to London for agency workbig money, earn it fast.
Charlotte fell silent. That exact sumfive thousand poundswas stashed in her jewellery box. Shed squirrelled it away over three years, denying herself every treat, for a flat renovation and a new walk-in shower
Ive got that, she said quietly.
He looked up sharply.
No wayabsolutely not! Thats yours, Charlotte. I cant take it.
Tom, its for your nephew. Family matters. You said so yourself. Take ityoull give it back. Were together, arent we?
He protested for days. Paced the flat, started smoking on the balcony though hed promised to give up.
In the end, Charlotte brought out the cash and set it on the table.
Here. Go to your brother, give it to himor transfer it. Up to you.
Id rather do it in person, he said, giving her a hug. And Ill talk about work over theremaybe theres a decent job for me.
Just a couple days, Charlotte. Ill be back.
***
Shed been sitting there alone on the hallway floor for over an hour. Her legs had long gone numb, though she hardly noticed.
Last night replayed in her head: watching some silly comedy, his arms around her, the happiest shed felt in forever.
Ill slip out early day after tomorrow, hed said before bed.
But hed left sooner than that. Shed been fast asleepnever heard him get dressed.
Half-awake, shed thought she heard the door, but assumed it was the neighbours.
By two oclock, she was desperate. She rang his brotherthe number hed once given her just in case.
Hello? a gruff voice answered. Who is this?
Hi, Im Charlotte, Toms friend. Did he arrive safely today?
A pause. Then a heavy sigh.
Whos Tom? My brothers name isnt Tom, and hes still got six months left inside. Not out till October.
Charlottes vision went dark.
What dyou mean, October? He was released in AprilI picked him up from HMP Middlemarch myself!
Listen, the voice turned hard. My brother, Michael, is at HMP Northley. But Tom Tom was my old cellmate, he got out two months back.
He nicked my phone when I was still inside, grabbed all my contacts.
Youre just another penpal hes strung along. Hes a pro, trust me.
Got a degree, very smooth talker.
Charlotte laid the phone on the floor, numb. She remembered him teaching her how to change spark plugs.
Dont overtighten, thats the golden rule, hed said. Youll strip the thread otherwiseand then youre sunk.
Overshot it, Charlotte murmured. Ruined the whole thread. Did myself in.
She realised suddenly that she knew nothing concrete about the man shed let into her life. Shed never even seen his passport, he never produced any paperwork about his release.
What if he wasnt even Tom?
***
Of course Charlotte reported it all to the police and handed over his photo. They told her all sorts about her former partner.
His name was Thomas, at least that much had been true.
The rest was a pack of lies. Hed done time for serious offencesmost of his life spent behind barsand theyd first crossed paths when he was already on his third stretch.
Charlotte changed the locks and told herself, honestly, shed got off lightly. Compared to the stories she heard about his other women, it couldve been worse.
Some lessons are only learnt the hard way. My own? Never let loneliness cloud your better judgement, and always trust your instinctsespecially when your heart wants to believe the unbelievable.
