‘Don’t worry. I’ll take you in,’ Charlie said, as if reading my mind. He was dressed in a white, short-sleeve shirt and stone-coloured cargo shorts. His hands rested in his pockets and his feet were bare.
‘Thanks.’ I smiled, shutting the door.
‘Wait!’ Charlie called suddenly as I made to move away from the car.
‘What?’ I stopped, the look on Charlie’s face freezing me in place.
He moved closer to me. ‘Your dress…’
‘What’s wrong with it? Is it not the right sort of thing? I knew I should have checked. Is it more formal than—?’
‘Libby—’ He placed a large hand on my shoulder, interrupting my word flow ‘—what you’re wearing is fine. But currently it’s shut in the car door and you’re about to leave half of it behind.’
I looked down. Charlie was right. Two more steps and there would have been a large ripping sound swiftly followed by either wailing or embarrassed silence on my part. Possibly a combination of both. Pressing the button on my key fob, I unlocked the door, pulled my dress from it and closed it again. I flipped the fabric back and forth to check for marks, but luckily it seemed fine.
‘All right?’ Charlie asked.
‘Yes. Phew!’ I laughed. ‘Nice save.’
‘No problem.’
‘Maybe I should stop wearing dresses and skirts with quite so much fabric in them if I can’t be trusted to keep them contained.’
‘You wouldn’t be you if you didn’t wear the things you do.’
I tilted my head up at him, and squinted, the sun shining in my eyes. Charlie moved and blocked it. I unscrewed my face a bit.
‘I’m not sure how to take that.’
‘It was meant as a compliment.’ He looked down at my dress, and then the pavement. Everywhere but at me.
‘All right, then. I’ll take it as one.’
‘Good. Come on,’ he said. ‘Do you want me to take something?’ He frowned a little at me, as I juggled my car keys, the wine I’d brought as a gift, and my wrap.
‘No, it’s OK. I think I’ve got it,’ I said, just as the wine bottle slid out of my hand and headed for the pavement.
Charlie’s hand shot out and caught it just before it hit.
‘Yes. I can see you’ve got it all under control.’
I gave him a look that told him not to be a smart arse, and a flicker of a grin flashed across his face.
We headed inside.
It was a bigger gathering than I had expected, but Charlie’s parents were friendly and welcoming, soon whizzing Amy and I around and introducing us to the various friends and relatives attending the party. It quickly became obvious that Marcus got his outgoing personality from his dad and Charlie got his striking eye colour from his mum. She was less exuberant than his dad but just as fun and witty. I glanced over to where Charlie was now standing, his head tilted down a little and forwards in concentration as he listened to the man opposite.
‘Oh, golly. Poor Charlie. He’ll be lucky to get away now,’ his mum said, coming to stand beside me.
I smiled as she did so. ‘Bit chatty, is he?’
She rolled her eyes. ‘Loves a good conspiracy, does our Graham, and is convinced the banks are behind most of them. Charlie’s financial background means he rather gets his ear bent every time Graham sees him.’
‘Oh, dear.’
‘He’s been stuck there for over half an hour now,’ his mum said. ‘You wouldn’t be a love and rescue him, would you? Goodness knows how long he’ll be there otherwise.’
‘Me?’
