‘So we’d effectively be using the media for good this time?’ Holly said wryly. ‘Instead of being plastered all over it for all the wrong reasons. But what about doing it right before recess? Is that a good time?’ Holly’s brow creased with a frown. ‘Doesn’t that make all you lot extra demob-happy, just like it used to at school?’
‘Well, possibly,’ Charlie said. ‘But it also means the Health and Social Care Committee can schedule a meeting with the drug companies over the summer, get negotiations going and hopefully have a decision by the first sitting in back in the autumn.’
‘I hope you’re right,’ Holly said. She had to resist the urge, as she was standing next to him where he was seated at her large, round table, to run her hand through his hair and caress the back of his neck. Old habits were hard to break, especially as she still felt such a powerful pull of attraction to him, in spite of all that had happened. ‘So, er, what’s the best approach to take for this speech?’ she coughed nervously.
‘Oh, you know, rhetoric, statistics, emotion and cold hard numbers, followed by a punch to the gut to finish,’ Charlie said wryly. ‘All that stuff we learned about how to write a decent speech for GCSE English isn’t that far off the mark, really. I’ve been putting my old English teacher’s advice into practice ever since!’
‘I’m sure he or she would be very proud,’ Holly replied dryly.
Charlie flipped the screen on his laptop and called up a new document. ‘Let’s do this.’
Later on, when she looked back at the hours they spent working on the speech, Holly felt it would all have been covered in some cheesy montage scene in a film; Charlie certainly made a decent-looking leading man, and no mistake. She was amazed at his focus, once he got going, and his organisational skills. The political animal under his skin was in full flow, statistics at his fingertips, pithy and passionate turns of phrase interwoven with the clear, unadulterated facts of the case.
He kept muttering parts of what he’d written, testing the cadences, feeling the rhythms of the words to see if they sounded correct, would engage the House as well as being informative. Holly, who was going through the piles of research materials, kept getting distracted by his voice, which, although not in full public-speaking mode, was still low and authoritative, prompting her to listen. She suddenly had a vision of him as a teenager again, when she’d seen him on the platform at the youth conference, gestures slightly more mechanical, self-consciously intended to imitate the open-handed poses of the politicians of the day, voice mostly commanding but with a tremor of nerves that he, thankfully, seemed to have banished in later years.
Back in the moment, when the thirty-something Charlie rolled up his sleeves to expose his wonderful wrists and forearms, she swallowed back a sudden surge of lust. Power, she thought wryly, even that of a backbench MP, was a decent aphrodisiac when that MP was as good a speaker as Charlie was. But now was not the time for thoughts like that.
It amazed her how much material Charlie would need for a ten-minute speech in the debate. Even accounting for interruptions to allow debate to be free-flowing, he’d have to be prepared. As he wove in statistics with real-life examples from Harry’s life, and those of other CF patients, the speech started to take shape.
‘Tom’s just emailed me to let me know he’ll be back late tomorrow afternoon, but he wants to see a version of the speech as soon as we’ve got something to share.’ Charlie, back obviously sore after hours of hunching over his laptop, leaned back in the wooden chair and raised his arms above his head. ‘I wish you and I were on better terms right now,’ he said, half to himself but looking at Holly. ‘I’d ask for one of those amazing massages.’
Holly’s breath caught in her throat and she laughed nervously to cover up the sudden surge of desire that his words, and his slightly dishevelled appearance, provoked in her. ‘Mind on the job, Mr Thorpe. Tom’s not going to want to see a subpar version of this speech that’s supposed to change everything.’
Charlie looked troubled for a moment, and he stood up from the table. Holly felt frozen to the spot as he moved towards her. She caught the warm scent of his body and the cologne he habitually wore and saw the trace of five-o’clock shadow on his jawline. His eyes, darker away from the lamp at the side of the table where he’d been working, seemed to read into her soul.
‘You know we can only do our best, don’t you?’ he said softly as he approached her. ‘All I can do is present the issue to the House as powerfully as I can. It’s up to the pharmaceutical company and the Department of Health to come to a decision after that.’
‘I know,’ Holly replied, her own voice low in the warm light of her living room. ‘But you said to me that real change is effected by politicians; perhaps this is an issue where politics and public opinion together really can make a difference; have an influence.’
‘I hope so,’ Charlie said. ‘And I want you to know that I am going to put everything I have into this debate. I will not walk away from this again, Holly.’ He drew closer to her and she breathed in his scent, so intoxicating that she could feel a warmth spreading through her, and her own breath shortening. As if he didn’t realise what he was doing, he reached out a slightly trembling hand and ran the back of his fingertips down the side of her cheek.
‘Charlie…’ she murmured, head swimming at his closeness.
‘I know,’ he replied. ‘It’s not a good idea. But I just need… I just want…’ With the softness of an exhaled breath, he brought his mouth to hers in a kiss that was as sweet and tentative as that first one they’d shared back in London all those years ago.
As if it had a mind of its own, Holly’s hand found its way to Charlie’s hair, fingers tangling in his dark, wavy locks and pulling his mouth closer, for a deeper, more intense kiss. He tasted of coffee and sweetness, and her senses reeled as she realised just how much she’d missed him in the time they’d been apart.
‘We can’t,’ Holly gasped when they pulled apart. ‘We shouldn’t…’
‘I know,’ Charlie whispered, ‘but right now, I think we need to.’ He slid an arm around her waist and pressed closer to her, until she had her back against the wall of her living room.
Holly could feel his arousal, and she pressed back against him, one thigh wrapping around his as her senses reeled at his closeness.
‘I think you’re right,’ Holly murmured into the kiss. ‘I’ve missed you.’
‘You have no idea how much I’ve missed you, too,’ Charlie’s voice trembled as he pulled back, just for a moment, to look into Holly’s eyes. ‘Every minute I haven’t been able to call you, to see you, to share my life with you, has been bloody awful.’
Holly pulled him closer to her again, feeling the frantic beating of his heart that matched her own. ‘It’s late,’ she said softly. ‘Do you want to stay?’
‘No pressure,’ Charlie replied. ‘We don’t have to do… anything. I just need to be close to you.’
Holly’s eyes sparkled. ‘That’s very sweet, Charlie, but I have enough trouble keeping my hands off you as it is!’