Samms Plant Hire, Oatfield
‘Not sure I want t’go now,’ Charlene brooded for a while and then appealed to Ingrid to make the decision for her. ’D’you think it’d be alright?’
‘Me?’ Ingrid dropped her chin to her chest and leaned so far forward that her head touched her keyboard. If she heard another word about this bloody date of Charlene’s, she’d go stark, staring bonkers! ‘What are you asking me for? I know bugger all about blind dates, I’ve never been on one. I never had a friend who wanted me to tag along to keep her bloke’s mate occupied either. I’ve only ever gone out with Alex and we knew each other ages before that happened, so the idea of meeting up with somebody you’ve only ever spoken to on the internet is way beyond anything I’ve ever done.’
‘Yeah, but would you go if you was me?’
The girl really did expect an answer. Hadn’t she talked it over with her Mum? What if what she said was at odds with anything Christine had told her? It was no good giving advice if she was going to go home and say ‘Ingrid said.’ That really would have Christine on the warpath. But then it must be difficult finding time to talk things through, what with Charlene working full time and her Mum on shifts. They probably didn’t see much of each other at all. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
‘Look. If you were me, then I wouldn’t go if you paid me. You don’t know who’s for real and who’s not on there...’
‘Oh, ‘e is real, I seen ‘im on the webcam when we was talking.’
Ingrid threw down her pen and rocked back on her chair, folding her arms. ‘Did you want this bloody advice or not? Cos I’ve got plenty to be getting on with, and so have you!’
‘Yeah...sorry...’ Charlene hurriedly emptied her in-tray onto her desk and began sorting her work into piles. ‘And I’ll work a bit later tomorrow if I don’t get done. I know I’ve been talking when I should a been working but I don’t know what t’do. I mean, ‘e looks nice ‘n everything but...’
‘Stop that a minute and listen. Faffing about a bit longer’s not going to make much difference.’ She waited for Charlene to look up but realised as soon as she turned her back to her and started rummaging in her handbag, that she had made her cry. She closed her eyes and groaned inwardly. If there was one thing guaranteed to have Charlene in floods, it was knocking anything to do with her work. She took so much pride in doing a good job and Ingrid knew damned well that she wouldn’t have been chatting at all, worried or not, if there was any danger she wouldn’t clear her desk by the end of the day. ‘Tell you what; these figures have got me going cross-eyed. I’ll go and make us a drink and we’ll take ten minutes off, shall we?’ It was no good being sympathetic or apologising for upsetting her; she knew from experience that that would only make her worse. ‘I could do with a wee, but it’s that bloody cold out there, it’s like a steam room by the time you’ve finished.’
Charlene swivelled her chair and faced her, a tissue pinched to her nose and her eyes watery, but she gurgled a smile that was just visible beneath her hands. ‘My heater’d stretch,’ she offered. ‘You could leave the door open n’ I wouldn’t let anyone in.’
‘I could put mine out there, come to that. We need proper heating,’ Ingrid said, trundling the space heater from behind her desk, into the short corridor which led to the lavatory, and turned it to point towards the open cubicle. ‘It’s alright for His Nibs; he doesn’t get freezer-burn on his bum from sitting on that seat!’ She retraced her steps and closed the door on the wire. ‘Leave it to warm up for a few minutes.’ She paused next to the small kitchen area. ‘Right...now what was I saying?’
‘About if you was me?’ Charlene prompted timidly.
‘Yes....If you were me, you wouldn’t even be thinking about it...but you’re not, you’re you, and things have moved on a bit in forty years.’
Charlene listened, wishing she hadn’t made a fool of herself by crying and glad that Ingrid was talking from behind the partition wall; it gave her a few minutes to get herself together and she didn’t need to say anything until she came out with the coffee. She’d be alright by then.
‘I know there are a lot of sites you can go on; there doesn’t seem to be the same places to meet people as there were when I was young, so I can see why people use them. If you were one of my girls, I’d want to know you’d be safe. I meant what I said when I said you didn’t really know what you were letting yourself in for. I know you’ve seen what he looks like, and he seems nice but that’s not enough for you not to be very careful. I’ve seen enough programmes on telly to know that there are some right pervs out there who use these dating sites to pick up women for something other than a nice night out. Your bloke might be the bait to get you into something really nasty.’ Ingrid leaned back and looked out of the doorway. ‘Are you listening?’
Charlene bit her lip and nodded.
‘Only you’d gone all quiet, and I thought I was wasting my breath.’
‘I am list’ning, ‘onest. He seems ever so nice, though...and he still lives with his Mum and Dad. I know that’s true, cos I saw her once on the computer when she come in ‘is room and then went ‘Ooops, sorry’ and went out again. He wouldn’t make that up, would he?’
‘Don’t take anything for granted, that’s all I’m saying.’ Ingrid raised her voice over the sound of the kettle coming to the boil. ‘He could very well be just as nice as you think he is, but don’t do anything without thinking first. Be safe, like I said.’ The teaspoon tinkled as she stirred milk into their coffee, and she carried two mugs into the main office. ‘Haven’t you got a friend you can take with you, or get them to follow you to keep an eye out? You’ve got to have someone who knows exactly where you’re going, someone you can ring if you get in bother.’
‘It’s a bit late now; maybe I just won’t go.’
‘If he’s genuine, he might get worried or a bit hurt if you don’t turn up. If you’re not going, you should tell him; wouldn’t be fair otherwise.’
‘But you just said he was a perv!’ Charlene protested. Coffee slopped from her mug as she took it and she scooted back her chair, holding her arm out so the liquid splashed on the floor. She shook her hand of drips and wiped the bottom of the mug with what was left of her tissue. ‘Now you want me t’write to ‘im!’
‘I said that nobody could know if someone was. He could be perfectly alright and I could be buying myself a new hat before long, but you don’t know that. Do you?’
‘So, do I go or not?’
‘That’s up to you.’ Ingrid backed away and sipped her coffee before putting the mug on her desk. ‘I need to let some out before I drink any more. Should be warmed up by now.’
‘Will you be me contact, Ingrid? I int really got anybody else to ask, not for tonight.’
Ingrid stood with her legs crossed as she waited with her hand on the door. ‘If you like,’ she sighed and smiled. ‘As long as it’s not a late night and you remember to ring me when you get home. You can ring me when you get there and text me little updates if you like, but I actually want to hear your voice once you’re home, alright?’
