Because She Loves Me by Mark Edwards Read Free Book Online

second-hand paperbacks. Then, in the distance, I saw Charlie and my heart did this little skipping thing.
    ‘That’s her.’
    ‘Where?’ Tilly asked.
    ‘The beautiful one.’
    Tilly pointed to a bag lady enjoying an early-morning can of cider on a nearby bench. ‘What, her?’
    ‘Yes. It was the scent of her crusty hair that first drew me to her.’
    Tilly laughed. ‘Hey, do you remember that homeless guy who used to live in Eastbourne – what was his name? Bobby Pole?’
    Charlie had spotted us. She waved and walked towards us.
    ‘Yes. Bobby Pole. Mum said she saw him once in the indoor market.’
    ‘When he stopped and shook his trouser leg.’
    ‘And a fossilised turd fell out.’
    Charlie arrived. She was wearing a long black coat and was wrapped in a scarf with a green woollen hat completing the winter look. Spots of pink burned in her pale cheeks. She looked adorable. She grinned, showing the little gap between her two front teeth. ‘What are you two laughing at?’
    I told her the story of Bobby Pole and Charlie laughed like this was the funniest thing anyone she’d ever heard. Tilly and I joined in. I had never laughed as much as I had the last few days. I didn’t know if my stomach could take much more.
    ‘Tilly, this is Charlie,’ I said when I’d got my breath back. ‘Charlie, Tilly.’
    They shook gloved hands.
    ‘So you’re the girl,’ Tilly said.
    ‘Oh no, don’t embarrass me,’ I said.
    Tilly held up her hands, mock-innocent. ‘Hey, I’m not going to say a word.’
    ‘Please do,’ said Charlie.
    ‘So what are we doing?’ I asked, redirecting the conversation.
    Charlie gestured behind her. ‘I’ve booked us tickets on the Eye to start with. Have you been on it before?’
    Neither of us had. Tilly was delighted and wheeled herself along beside Charlie towards the big wheel, the two of them chatting like they’d known each other for years. Charlie gesticulated as she talked, her face animated. She looked like a movie star, the girl next door in an old American film, and I was struck by two emotions, one immediately following the other: joy, that she was with me; and fear, that at any moment she might disappear like she did after our first night out. I told myself to get a grip. Relax, enjoy it. She seemed to like me a lot. The way she looked at me reflected back the way I looked at her. And if she didn’t care about me, didn’t want to give this budding relationship the chance to bloom, she wouldn’t be here now, taking my sister out, would she?
    The London Eye was even better than I’d hoped, the city stretched out before us, proud and ancient and alive. Charlie pointed out her favourite buildings and Tilly recounted the time she and ‘a load of other wheelchair kids’ were taken to Buckingham Palace to meet the Queen. Charlie had a related story, about how the Queen had come to their school in Leeds and they’d all stood outside waving flags, hoping she’d brought her corgis with her.
    ‘I’m not a big fan of the royals now, though,’ she said.
    ‘Oh, are you a republican?’ Tilly asked.
    Charlie waved a hand. ‘Actually, let’s not spoil the day with politics.’
    I knew already, from watching the news with her, that anything Charlie saw as injustice made her angry. I had listened to her rage against some new policy the government had brought in, the so-called bedroom tax, and halfway through her diatribe I’d had to calm her down, pointing out that I wasn’t the prime minister and couldn’t do much about it. I liked the fact that she cared so much, though. It was another sign that she was a passionate person.
    After the London Eye, we went on to Trafalgar Square and looked round the National Portrait Gallery.
    ‘Charlie’s an artist,’ I pointed out to Tilly.
    ‘An aspiring artist,’ Charlie said.
    ‘I really want to see some of your work,’ I said.
    ‘You will. Maybe you can pose for me.’
    I was taken aback and Tilly laughed. ‘If you get Andrew to