Page 64 of Lost in Translation
For several moments, Charlotte stood by the window as the taxi pulled away. She wanted to bang her head repeatedly on the glass, to knock some sense into herself. Why couldn’t they be together? Was she creating obstacles that didn’t exist?
After reassuring Alastair that no monsters had left undesirable objects in his bed, Charlotte kissed him goodnight and went downstairs. As the clock's hands moved to midnight, she threw herself down on the sofa and reached for Jürgen’s wine glass, fingering the stem as if she could connect with his earlier touch.He was here. Her tears fell with ferocity until sleep pulled her into oblivion.
Chapter 53
‘You’re tellingme that a man who clearly worships the ground you walk on turned up out of the blue and poured his heart out, and you sent him packing?’ An incredulous Ruth twirled her finger at the side of her head. ‘You’ve got a screw loose.’
‘I didnotsend him packing. He had a taxi booked.’ Charlotte honked into a tissue, last night’s crying fit threatening to start up again.
‘Hon, that is one of the most romantic things I’ve ever heard. He comes all this way to see you, says he thinks of you night and day, and doesn’t even go in for a snog? Crikey, it sounds like something out of a Hugh Grant romcom. I mean a younger Hugh Grant, obviously.’
‘I’m no bloody Julia Roberts,’ retorted Charlotte. ‘Anyway, in the movies they always find a way around seemingly impossible scenarios. This is real life, not a fairy tale created in LaLa Land. It’s hopeless.’
Ruth ducked away from the camera, cooing ‘who’s a clever boy, then?’ before popping up again. ‘Sorry, Jacob’s become an expert at batting the toys on his play mat. It’s like watching a mini Roger Federer in action. Sorry, where were we?’
‘You were accusing me of insanity and comparing Jürgen to a floppy-haired Brit,’ said Charlotte. ‘And I told you it was hopeless.’
‘The only thing that’s hopeless isyou. Hunky Germans aren’t like meter readers; they don’t appear on your doorstep regularly. Hon, you two have something special going on. Surely it’s worth at least talking about it together?’
Picking at a lunchtime tuna sandwich, Charlotte stared at her phone. She’d started writing a text several times, but deleted them all. What could she say?Come back and let’s give it a go.Or was it better to leave well alone, and keep the memories of an almost-romance?
Gathering up a pile of the boys’ dirty laundry, Charlotte stuffed it into the washing machine and measured out the powder. Switching the machine on, she sank to the floor in front of the rotating drum. Round and round it went, in tandem with her swirling thoughts. Mesmerised by the motion, she jolted at the clatter of the letterbox flap. Strange — the postman had already been.
Reaching the door, Charlotte picked up a folded piece of paper.
Dear Charlotte.
I don’t want to trouble you any more. Seeing you last night meant the world to me, but on reflection, it is unfair to put you under pressure. As I once said, sometimes the heart wants what it shouldn’t. I will never forget you, and I wish you and your wonderful boys every happiness in the future.
Yours always,
Jürgen x
Charlotte clasped the note to her thumping chest. He was leaving. She didn’twanthim to leave. Not like this, not with so many things left unsaid. Wrenching the door open, she saw Jürgen standing by the kerb next to the waiting taxi.
‘Wait!’ Charlotte ran towards him, cursing the fact that she sported an unflattering combo of faded black leggings and an oversized T-shirt with a hole in it.
‘Charlotte.’ Jürgen hesitated, his hand on the taxi door handle. ‘I’m sorry, it was cowardly to leave a note. When you didn’t text, I decided it was best not to see you. You need to build your new life, and I must let you do that without causing you any pain.’
As the taxi driver tapped his fingers on the steering wheel in time to an 80s disco song, Charlotte wrapped her arms around her trembling body. ‘You know, I’m done with you apologising all the time, Jürgen. And I’m angry with myself for being a spineless wimp. I vowed to be brave in ending my marriage, and you helped me find the strength.’
Jürgen blinked in surprise at Charlotte’s forceful tone. The taxi driver turned the music off and looked in their direction.
‘And I know I have the courage now to take a chance on something scary and new and exciting. Because if I don’t, I’ll spend the rest of my life regretting it.’ Charlotte pictured Ruth punching the air, cheering her on.Go girl!
‘Mate, fascinating as your Romeo and Juliet routine is, the meter’s ticking. Are you getting in or not?’ The driver leaned out of the window, giving Charlotte a salacious wink.
‘He’s not.’ Charlotte tightened her grip around her chest, aware she wasn’t wearing a bra. ‘He’s coming with me.’
Jürgen handed a tenner to the driver, whose face lit up like the Blackpool illuminations. ‘Cheers, mate. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.’
Left on the pavement, Charlotte and Jürgen stood silent. Charlotte noticed a neighbour’s curtain twitching, and a curious stare from a dog-walker. Yes, a barefoot woman with mad hair next to an immaculately clad man might attract attention.
‘Inside. Now.’ Aware that she sounded like an undercover cop hustling a suspect away from prying eyes, Charlotte led the way towards her house. Once inside, she marched into the living room. ‘Ow!’ She looked down and spied a piece of rogue Lego.
‘Are you OK?’ Jürgen watched her hop to the sofa.
Massaging her stinging foot, Charlotte patted the cushion next to her. ‘Sit.’ Great, now she was addressing Jürgen like a belligerent puppy in the throes of training.
