Charlie Had His Chance
Charlie Had His Chance
(A Romance quite unlike any other)
A Novel
By Ellis Major
#1 in the Charlie Tiptree Series
Text copyright © 2012 Ellis Major
All Rights Reserved
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious.
Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
Table of Contents
Prefaces
Characters of Significance
Prologue
PART 1 - Thanks for the Memories
Chapter 1 – Charlie Wakes Up (Year 1 – May)
Chapter 2 – Morning (Year 1 – May)
Chapter 3 – Mortality I (Year 1 – June)
Chapter 4 – Mortality II (Year 1 – June)
Chapter 5 – Holiday (Year 1 – Early July)
Chapter 6 – A Small Surprise (Year 1 – Early July)
Chapter 7 – Georgina (Year 1 – Early July)
Chapter 8 – First Move (Year 1 – Early July)
Chapter 9 – Break for the Border (Year 1 – Early July)
PART 2 - Singing Off Key
Chapter 1 – A Friend in Need Can Test Your Loyalty (Year 1 – July)
Chapter 2 – Essex by Night (Year 1 – July)
Chapter 3 - Kirkness (Year 1 – July)
Chapter 4 – Lance? (Year 1 – July)
Chapter 5 - Charlie Helps Out (Year 1 – August)
Chapter 6 – Boston Lunch Party (Year 1 – August)
Chapter 7 – Picnic at Hepple Rock (Year 1 – August)
Chapter 8 - The Academy (Year 1 – August)
Chapter 9 – Daddy’s Cool? (Year 1 – August/September)
Chapter 10 – What about Charlie (Year 1 – September)
Chapter 11 – Echoes (Year 1 – Late September)
Chapter 12 – Contact (Year 1 – Late September)
Chapter 13 – Unexpected (Year 1 – Very Late September)
Chapter 14 - Could it be Magic? (Year 1 – Early October)
PART 3 - A Very Bumpy Road
Chapter 1 – Unrequited Misery (Year 1 – October)
Chapter 2 – Unrequited Misery? (Year 1 – October)
PART 4 - How to go about the Changing of Lives
Chapter 1 - Works Outing (Year 2 – January)
Chapter 2 – Unexpected Guests (Year 2 – January)
Chapter 3 – Conversation (Year 2 – January)
Chapter 4 – Scarface (Year 2 – January)
Chapter 5 – A Word with Rowena (Year 2 – January)
Chapter 6 – Stepping Out (Year 2 – January...February...)
Chapter 7 – What am I to do, Can’t Help it (Year 2 – February...March…)
PART 5 - Wrecked?
Chapter 1 – Stag Nights (Year 2 – June)
Chapter 2 – Transport Delays (Year 2 – June)
Chapter 3 – A Communication (Year 2 – June)
Chapter 4 – Hope Springs (Year 2 – June)
Chapter 5 – Second Thoughts (Year 2 – June)
Chapter 6 – Lance Shows his Mettle (Year 2 – June)
Epilogue
Prefaces
Second Preface
So Charlie’s been around a while now and has gathered some kind reviews which, and I’m not tongue in cheek here, do mean a great deal. It’s very rewarding when a reader ‘gets’ what I’m trying to do and is generous enough to say they enjoyed it.
I couldn’t, however, help noticing the occasional remark about typos, so for this ‘edition’ I have had another bash at eradication as well as tidying up the occasional stylistic aberration. As I’m English I do use English spellings (when I get them right), but I hope that doesn’t count against me too much elsewhere around the Globe. I really do work on trying to tidy up the text because I find it niggling myself when I notice errors if I happen to be reading. As for paying a professional, I will be frank – I’d love to, but I’m afraid it simply wouldn’t be cost-effective, not thus far at least. I’m not in this for the money, but I’d rather not be out of pocket. One day perhaps….
In the meanwhile I must plead for some leeway. I hope you’ll agree that even with the odd typo this is a lot of ‘book’ for a very reasonable price - especially if you grab it during an occasional promotion.
Preface to the Original Edition
In undertaking this venture I’m reminded of a comment I heard Mark Knopfler make once in an interview. He referred to writing a song as being akin to creating a little tiny person. You bring it fully formed into the World, set it down on its feet and say something along the lines of ‘off you go’. Thereafter, you watch and you hope for the best, never really knowing what might happen to it.
His remarks apply equally well to a book of course. Does it grow into a strapping adult or does it catch the modern equivalent of smallpox and fade rapidly away, mourned chiefly by its parents? We shall see. The great benefit of electronic publishing is that it allows the author to cut out the middlemen. Both author and reader can experiment inexpensively. If a book only works for a few hundred people then at least that’s a few hundred more than would have enjoyed it under the old ways. If the numbers are larger than that then great, it’s even better – I might be able to buy meat now and again.
I have no-one to blame but myself for errors of spelling, syntax and style. I’ve done my best and apologise in advance if any mistakes ruin things for the purist. I refuse to apologise for causing offence, though, because if you take a single word I’ve written in here at all seriously you’ve missed the whole point and don’t warrant any sympathy, let alone an apology! Light-hearted though my aim is, be warned that parts of this book are dark and amoral with not an ounce of fluffiness in sight. Other parts are delightfully fluffy, however, so there’s something for everyone.
I’m putting my effort ‘out there’ because, once the idea came to me, I really enjoyed writing it and I’ve really enjoyed re-reading and revising it too. In all humility, my conclusion was that if I enjoyed the thing, others might too. The literary work has its place, the thriller, the mystery and, as we see from time to time, so does the fun, utterly absurd romance.
Off you go….
Characters of Significance
Charles Tiptree – a beneficiary of Trusts, an idler.
Captain Lance Savage – an alumnus of Tiptree; traumatised war veteran.
Ms Rowena Hepple – a girl of great beauty, prickliness and poverty.
Kali – Hindu deity, the dark one; often considered quite unsavoury.
Mary Goldsworthy – authoress with secrets.
Geoffrey Blenkinsop – school friend of Tiptree; work-shy but well-meaning.
Camilla Deane – Geoffrey’s intended.
Roderick Blythe – school friend of Tiptree; ethically challenged.
Georgina Lane – a young lady with a past.
Arnold and Marigold Sproate – plain Yorkshire folk.
Mr Smith – a conveniently shady individual, seemingly devoid of all scruples.
Lady Angelina Boston – a no-nonsense Essex country woman.
Walter, Duke of Kirkness – splendid Scottish aristocrat.
Cora, Duchess of Kirkness – his quirkily adorable spouse.
Ms Barbara Reading – an East End entrepreneur.
William Reeve – acquaintance of Tiptree; a money manager of great brain.
Archibald Reeve – William’s father, a noted philanthropist.
Millicent Minx – a flame-haired gambler.
Virginia Bond – a woman of easy virtue.
Eve Endicott-Jones – younger sister to Lady Boston, with poor financial skills.
Francesca Evesham – a lovely woman
on a mission.
Wendy Gale – an enigma, initially.
Yusuf – a Sudanese entrepreneur.
Scarface – himself.
Captain Jim Ladd – an obliging nautical gentlemen.
Men in Kilts – retainers of the Duke; far more rugged than men in tights.
Prologue
Most parents will worry about what the future holds for their child except, possibly, those within the orbit of Social Services. The Tiptrees were not in this unfortunate category. A more astute individual than George Tiptree would be difficult to imagine and a more loving mother than Ellen was rare indeed.
Nonetheless…
“The school costs a fortune,” George grumbled. He put the latest invoice on one side with a grimace. “For that sort of money shouldn’t they be building up some character as well as pushing them through the damn fool exams?”
Ellen Tiptree’s smile was tolerant. She was perched across the desk from her husband. She loved him dearly but how could he not see? How could men be so clever and yet, sometimes, so dense? George was a driven man, one in a million, and yet he never seemed willing to accept that he was unusual. He expected to see his own unique personality replicated in his son. Perhaps all ambitious men were the same.
“George,” she told him, her dark brown eyes twinkling as he raised his head. “Charles is sixteen. He’s little more than a boy. Don’t push him too hard or you’ll lose him forever.”
George nodded then sprang from the chair. He could rarely keep his lean frame still for long. “I hear what you say m’dear,” he muttered. “I do my best to bite my tongue, you know.”
“Of course,” she agreed, turning to watch as he strode over to the window and stared up into the glorious blue sky.
“Lovely day for it,” he murmured, inconsequentially.
“You are unusual George.” Ellen rose gracefully and touched his arm. “You seized an opportunity when it would have been so easy not to. You could have lived a very comfortable life without lifting a finger. You are a little different from most.”
He suddenly grinned. It always made her smile; there was something so lovable and endearing about his face when he was cheerful.
“Not every internet pioneer has to be American or a spotty, dysfunctional geek,” he declared. “You don’t have to start off poor in a ‘college dorm’. Anyone from any walk of life can build a business. You just need to put your mind to it and grab your chances with both hands.”
Ellen laughed gently. She, too, now admired the glorious sunlight on the lawns and the shrubbery. “Vulgar though it might be to mention the fact, darling, grasping your chance with both hands has also proved highly lucrative.”
He snorted. “It’s ridiculous, Ellen. I’ve lost count. If I was only in it for the money I could have sold out years ago.”
“Then you shouldn’t worry too much about Charles.”
George shrugged. “I just want him to do something worthwhile,” he said, tersely. “I’d be delighted if he took to the business. I rather like the idea of being the first of a digital family dynasty but I know he may not want to. He seems to have no real gumption, don’t you think though, no get up and go! What is he interested in apart from the piano and singing along with you? Where’s singing and playing the piano going to get him, Ellen, an afternoon slot over tea in the Dorchester? Life isn’t easy, money or no money. You need to be tough. You need to be able to cope, stand on your own two feet in this day and age. I could see him drifting and you know what they say – a fool and his money are soon parted. Perhaps it would wake him up if I left it all to charity and told him so. He’d have to make his own way in the world. It’s what these Americans do, you know.”
Ellen stroked her husband’s arm. “George, that’s very dramatic. He’s not exactly rebelled, he doesn’t take drugs, as far as we know, and I do think a lot of boys his age haven’t developed any real interests. You should have heard Mildred Lazenby moaning about their Henry. She’s convinced he’s smoking marijuana! He might end up schizophrenic! Charlie will grow up as and when. Like most other people, he’ll learn to be a man, our son. I hope he’ll learn to treat triumph and disaster as imposters, exactly as Kipling advises. I have confidence. You should have a little faith. You can try and put old heads on young shoulders but it never works.”
His hand touched hers. “Children!” he said. “I suppose he’ll turn out alright. At least he shouldn’t starve. I worry too much, m’dear, that’s what you’re saying.”
She laughed. “I sometimes think you do worry more than me and you can’t really blame the school. Just don’t get all uptight if he wants to try one or two other things to flex his wings. He may come round to the business in the end. Besides, George, you’re only forty three. Are you desperate to retire already? You just said you’re not in it for the money any longer.”
Now he laughed out loud. “We may own a few large properties, Ellen, but I’d still get under your feet. I’ve a few more years in me yet, however good the team down at the virtual coalface.”
“Well there you are then. Plenty of time for Charles to find his feet and you’ll still be around to guide him through this cyber world of yours if he does finally decide it’s for him.”
George nodded. “As always, Ellen, you’re the voice of good sense. I might even encourage him not to come into the business straight away. He could make mistakes at someone else’s expense, then.”
Despite his words, doubts still remained. George’s smile faded. “You know though, Ellen, it would be good to see a sign, just a hint, that the boy has some nous. It’s not too much to expect, is it? I may worry about him more than I should, but life doesn’t throw that many chances your way. You need to be awake, for God’s sake! I do wonder if he’d know what to do with a chance if it trotted up to him, rolled on its back and said ‘I’m yours if only you’ll tickle me’.”
His wife gave a faint, dark laugh. “Well I tickled you,” she said. “I seized my chance. Charles might become the son you’re so keen on when he finds a girl he wants to impress. After all, I’m sure you only set up the business to prove yourself to me.”
George smiled again, leaned down and kissed her. “No regrets, I hope,” he said. “For all I fuss about Charles and neglect you.”
“Of course not,” she told him. “I’d have regrets if you ignored the boy, not because you worry about him.”
George nodded towards the speck in the sky that was inaudible as yet. “Here he comes.”
“Yes,” Ellen sighed. “The helicopter!”
“Only way to travel,” he grunted. “You know what the queues are like if we drive and one or other of us can’t have more than a single glass of pop.” He shook his head. “I know, I know, we could have a chauffeur, but I find the fellows horribly constraining if you want to have a natter. No m’dear, there’s no messing around this way and the view will be fantastic today.”
“I’m sure it will.” Ellen sighed faintly. “Perhaps I should have another couple of sessions with that woman Celia recommended.”
“Good idea,” he muttered. “I don’t have much time for therapists but she’s managed to stop your trembling, although you still go as white as a sheet. You’re pale already.”
His wife gave a tiny shudder. “I must be rational about these things,” she said. “Anything can crash. It’s just when it’s bigger I feel safer. I’ll get my hat, darling.”
George smiled and checked his wallet. “Well hold onto it when we mount up,” he said. “I’m not sure you’ll need your four-leaved clover. I feel lucky to-day. Have you seen what’s running in the 4.15?”
“You know I never study the form, George. I wait until I see them walking in the paddock.”
“Best policy of course m’dear, but I like a peek beforehand - helps to get my thinking cap on. Rank outsider, fifty to one at best, but I’ll risk a tenner on the nose.”
“Why?”
“Charlie’s Luck.”
She laughed, despite her ner
vousness. “It’s a good omen. I might join you, but I’ll be less reckless than you.”
George snorted. “Each way bet on an outsider? Pointless! He’ll either romp home or be pulled up.”
PART 1 - Thanks for the Memories
Chapter 1 – Charlie Wakes Up (Year 1 – May)
Even when at the helm of his Bentley, and making every effort not to damage the monster or objects in its proximity, Charlie Tiptree was never zealously vigilant.
When on foot he was worse, although less likely to maim or kill. Whilst hardly prone to frequent collisions with his fellow pedestrians, Charlie had yet to become observant. Like so many city dwellers he found the mass of humanity all around a series of obstacles to negotiate, rather than subjects for close inspection. He rarely, therefore, avoided close encounters with those in search of ‘spare change’ or of saving his imperilled soul, roles sometimes aggregated by the Salvation Army of course.
This wasn’t generally too much of a problem. Charlie’s friends had trained him to be very open-handed and, if he had any change, he was only too happy to get shot of it. He did, however, have a strong aversion to encounters with the deranged, overtly aggressive or drunk (unless those in the latter two categories were in his party and therefore known to him). Charlie’s trouble was that if someone wasn’t actually shouting, raving or throwing things then he tended not to notice them until it was too late.
Given his outing had been successful Charlie was even more cheerfully distracted than usual. At four thirty on a pleasant May afternoon he had the solution to his problem and an excellent solution it was. He was even humming You’re the Top under his breath, as one might do when one has used one’s brain and it has been a success. It was, therefore, all but inevitable that things should turn out as they did.
A careworn member of the Victoria station staff was ushering a seriously disturbed man off the premises, but Charlie had no prior warning of this critical event. There was no noise to precipitate a rapid change of direction. It only became apparent that the man was deranged when he began shouting, a scant metre in front of Charlie.