Read Online With or Without You by Helen Warner - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Helen Warner
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never actually had a breakdown, there had been times in the past when Liv had suffered from bouts of depression and panic attacks, and Charlie was becoming increasingly concerned
for Felix’s welfare.
He gazed at the paparazzi photo of him and Martha emerging from the hotel the previous afternoon. Laughing in the sunshine. Looking happy. Looking like a couple. Martha seemed especially
beautiful and Charlie wondered if it was because in his world it was so rare for someone to have such a lovely face, untouched by cosmetic surgery, or hair that was shining and thick without the
aid of extensions. Even wearing his baggy sweatpants and t-shirt, she looked effortlessly stylish.
He had been unable to stop thinking about her for the past twenty-four hours, and it was such a new sensation for Charlie to feel anything other than a passing interest in a woman that he was
unnerved by it. Only Liv had ever had that effect on him before.
He had even resorted to going to the bathroom and fishing her dress out of the bin so that he could inhale her scent. Then he had called his assistant, Jess, and asked her to go and buy a new
one. He would give it to her at their next meeting. He smiled to himself at the thought of how pleased she would be.
When Martha had first turned up yesterday, Charlie’s heart had sank. Despite her large, dark eyes and long, lustrous hair, she looked breathless and sweaty in the way that, in his
considerable experience, only cokeheads could. And when she immediately excused herself to go to the loo, he had felt sure that his instinct was correct.
But spotting the giant hole in her dress had made him immediately soften towards her. He was unsure whether to say anything, but she had darted into the loo before he’d had the chance to
speak anyway.
She had finally emerged, wearing his massive t-shirt and sweatpants and looking, he thought, spectacularly sexy. Despite her embarrassment, she had met his eye with such a defiant, stoic gaze,
that Charlie had felt something inside him stir that had long been dormant.
During the interview, which had felt to him more like a first date than a grilling by a journalist, he had found himself opening up to Martha more than he ever had to any other interviewer. She
was disarming because she would ask him questions, but she would relate his answers to her own life, which put him at ease and led him to reveal much more than he had intended. She had a son who
was a little older than Felix and her stories about him made Charlie laugh, which helped him to talk about Felix without getting choked the way he usually did.
When the subject of Liv came up, Charlie had tensed, waiting for the inevitable questions about her leaving him for her Hollywood superstar. But to his surprise, Martha wanted to focus on the
early days of their relationship, on the happy times, and he found himself relaxing and enjoying the memories of the woman he had loved so much, instead of clenching with the pain of her loss.
Martha seemed non-judgemental about what Liv had done, which pleased him, although he wasn’t sure why.
After a couple of hours, she had reached over to switch off her recorder and sat back on the sofa, smiling at him through white teeth which were natural rather than veneered. ‘Shall we
leave it there for today?’ she had said.
Charlie had sagged with disappointment. He liked talking to her. Liked her presence. Liked her feet in the ridiculously high gold sandals she was wearing. He loved her deep, throaty laugh, her
brown eyes and full mouth . . .
Charlie slammed the laptop shut. He needed to stop thinking about her because it wasn’t going to happen. Just then his mobile rang, causing him to jump guiltily. He silenced
The
Sopranos’
theme tune quickly. ‘Hello?’ he gulped, wishing he had stopped to look at the caller display first.
‘What the hell?’ said a strangled voice, before lapsing into a coughing fit that lasted several seconds.
‘Hi Louisa . .
for Felix’s welfare.
He gazed at the paparazzi photo of him and Martha emerging from the hotel the previous afternoon. Laughing in the sunshine. Looking happy. Looking like a couple. Martha seemed especially
beautiful and Charlie wondered if it was because in his world it was so rare for someone to have such a lovely face, untouched by cosmetic surgery, or hair that was shining and thick without the
aid of extensions. Even wearing his baggy sweatpants and t-shirt, she looked effortlessly stylish.
He had been unable to stop thinking about her for the past twenty-four hours, and it was such a new sensation for Charlie to feel anything other than a passing interest in a woman that he was
unnerved by it. Only Liv had ever had that effect on him before.
He had even resorted to going to the bathroom and fishing her dress out of the bin so that he could inhale her scent. Then he had called his assistant, Jess, and asked her to go and buy a new
one. He would give it to her at their next meeting. He smiled to himself at the thought of how pleased she would be.
When Martha had first turned up yesterday, Charlie’s heart had sank. Despite her large, dark eyes and long, lustrous hair, she looked breathless and sweaty in the way that, in his
considerable experience, only cokeheads could. And when she immediately excused herself to go to the loo, he had felt sure that his instinct was correct.
But spotting the giant hole in her dress had made him immediately soften towards her. He was unsure whether to say anything, but she had darted into the loo before he’d had the chance to
speak anyway.
She had finally emerged, wearing his massive t-shirt and sweatpants and looking, he thought, spectacularly sexy. Despite her embarrassment, she had met his eye with such a defiant, stoic gaze,
that Charlie had felt something inside him stir that had long been dormant.
During the interview, which had felt to him more like a first date than a grilling by a journalist, he had found himself opening up to Martha more than he ever had to any other interviewer. She
was disarming because she would ask him questions, but she would relate his answers to her own life, which put him at ease and led him to reveal much more than he had intended. She had a son who
was a little older than Felix and her stories about him made Charlie laugh, which helped him to talk about Felix without getting choked the way he usually did.
When the subject of Liv came up, Charlie had tensed, waiting for the inevitable questions about her leaving him for her Hollywood superstar. But to his surprise, Martha wanted to focus on the
early days of their relationship, on the happy times, and he found himself relaxing and enjoying the memories of the woman he had loved so much, instead of clenching with the pain of her loss.
Martha seemed non-judgemental about what Liv had done, which pleased him, although he wasn’t sure why.
After a couple of hours, she had reached over to switch off her recorder and sat back on the sofa, smiling at him through white teeth which were natural rather than veneered. ‘Shall we
leave it there for today?’ she had said.
Charlie had sagged with disappointment. He liked talking to her. Liked her presence. Liked her feet in the ridiculously high gold sandals she was wearing. He loved her deep, throaty laugh, her
brown eyes and full mouth . . .
Charlie slammed the laptop shut. He needed to stop thinking about her because it wasn’t going to happen. Just then his mobile rang, causing him to jump guiltily. He silenced
The
Sopranos’
theme tune quickly. ‘Hello?’ he gulped, wishing he had stopped to look at the caller display first.
‘What the hell?’ said a strangled voice, before lapsing into a coughing fit that lasted several seconds.
‘Hi Louisa . .
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