harlie hcles lare ondon

Charlie Chuckles

I’

D NEVER

been good with anything out of the ordinary.

Unexplained happenings, mysteries, Twilight Zone

stuff—I didn’t understand them, and I didn’t believe in them.
That was the kind of man I was. “Sensible,” my mother
described me with a certain pursing of her lips. “Pragmatic”
had been the report from my glazed-eyed college tutor.
“Boring,” snapped my last boyfriend Shawn, along with a few
other choice phrases as, just two months ago, he swept
melodramatically out of the apartment with my decent
cashmere scarf and a half-dozen borrowed CDs he’d never
bothered to return.

Today I found myself more thoughtful than usual. I

balanced my briefcase on the kitchen table as I carefully
packed it with the notes I needed for the emergency early
morning meeting at work. The memory of Shawn was
disconcerting. He hadn’t welcomed my attempt to talk
through and maybe address what he found so lacking in our
relationship that he had to go out and pick up one of the
dancers at the local bar. Well, three actually. And that was
just that month. Needless to say, he’d done the sweeping out
before I’d done the talking through. I’d never liked scenes at
the best of times, but when emotions were involved…well, I
reckoned it was best to keep them in check in future. At
least for me. Like I always said, I’d never managed the out-

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of-the-ordinary stuff with particular success. Stuff like
jealousy and hurt and disloyalty and… passion.

I leaned over one of the chairs to pick up my scarf—a

new one, bought in resignation when Shawn never came
back, let alone the old scarf—but when I turned back, the
papers were out of the briefcase. After I’d put them in. I was
sure I had! How could I forget having creased the memo to
Head Office in my eagerness to make up the time I’d already
lost when the alarm didn’t go off? Which it had never done
before; it was the most reliable model on the market. Neither
had the kettle ever leaked like that, flooding the whole
kitchen counter when I tried to make my usual morning
coffee. It had taken me a precious half hour to mop it all up.
Nor had my car keys ever gotten lost before, this time
somehow slipping off the hook in the lobby and getting lost
under the stove, where I eventually found them. Two rooms
away.

Things were rather odd this morning.

It was stress because of the meeting, I was sure. I

glanced at my watch. I was going to have to hurry to the
station; I couldn’t remember ever being this late. How could
so many things go wrong on the very morning it was all
meant to go right? Mr. Evans had more or less promised me I
could assist on this project. And then he’d hinted at much
more, like promotion beyond junior clerk and a pay raise and
access to the third-floor Payables tea trolley. I’d heard there
were chocolate biscuits on Tuesdays.

But whatever the oddness, there was no reason to be

thinking of things “out of the ordinary.” No reason at all.
Things were tricky today, indeed, but for perfectly natural

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reasons. I’d slept badly because of that strange whistle in the
boiler pipes I’d never heard before. Plus I was always slightly
tense before my first caffeine of the morning and the
reminder of Shawn’s infidelity hadn’t helped to calm my
mood. I jammed the briefcase under my arm, walked briskly
down the hallway, and opened my front door.

Well, tried to.

I had to put down the briefcase again and use both

hands on the latch. It’d never stuck before. The weather
hadn’t been particularly humid, and the door had opened
and shut perfectly normally the previous night when I came
home after another long day at the office. I muttered
something that would have been a loud curse if my mother
hadn’t taught me to keep such things always under my
breath, and shoved extra hard.

It burst open, springing outward, my body following its

trajectory and my foot catching the edge of my briefcase,
tilting me off balance. I was vaguely aware of someone
passing in the corridor, a blur of long legs, brightly colored
clothing, and something furry at the heels. I exclaimed aloud
and flung my hand out instinctively, afraid of falling. I still
fell. And not only that, I crashed straight into the tall,
brightly colored someone and brought him down with me. A
very startled young man and I tumbled together, limbs
flailing, something hot and wet spilling down the front of my
shirt and probably his as well, my mouth open in horror, my
left foot wrenching out of my shoe and my shoulder twisting
painfully as I tried to minimize the collision.

And then we both landed on the hallway floor with a

heavy thud and matching groans.

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The vague thoughts I’d had this morning about unusual

and unfamiliar events happening to me resurfaced with a
rather smug “told you so.” I’d never known feelings like it.

But then, sitting on my ass on the hallway mat and

staring into the wet brown eyes of one of the most disheveled
terriers I’d ever seen, I had to admit I’d never heard a dog
chuckle, either.

T

HE

young man followed me into the kitchen, dabbing

ineffectually at his orange T-shirt. The least I could do was to
offer to help him clean up after spilling his tall, hot, extra-
sugared coffee all over the front of our clothes. I peered at
the T-shirt, trying to make out the coffee stains in between
the swirls of neon and graffiti-style lettering. “I have a clean
shirt you can borrow if you’re on your way to work.” I wasn’t
sure if I had anything that’d fit him. On so many levels.

His head jerked up. “Huh?” I realized I’d seen him

before, outside the building, laughing with friends who all
had bright-colored shirts and caps and ill-cut hair. Not that
it mattered, of course—the hairstyles, the clothing. In fact, I
admired their carefree attitude. He’d looked outgoing, fun-
loving… Shawn would have said “cute” but the casual word
always made me wince.

“A shirt,” I repeated. And just stared.

He had quite astonishing blue eyes, even though his

nose looked a little bent and his skin very freckled, obviously
from potentially unhealthy exposure to the sun. His mouth
was wide for his thin face, but the lips were full and

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moistened, maybe from the spilled coffee, maybe from the
way his tongue flickered out and ran itself along the lower
rim….

“No problem.” When his mouth smiled, his eyes crinkled

up at the corners. “I’m only up the corridor on the north side
of the building. I’ll get this off and go change in a minute.” In
one smooth, swift movement, he peeled the damp T-shirt up
and over his head. There was a flash of strong, fluid muscle,
dark hair under his armpits. Bare torso. It seemed the
potentially unhealthy sun exposure had lightly tanned all his
skin except for a slim band of whiter skin just hinted at
around the waist of his jeans. I found I suddenly needed to
cough.

“Flynn,” he said. He stuck out his hand. “That’s me.

Sorry for the crash, you know?”

What did I know? I continued to stare at him, though

my mother would have rolled her eyes at my rudeness. My
hand returned the shake instinctively. His palm was warm
and firm. The coffee seemed to have made my face and neck
hot as well as my chest. “I think I’m the one should be
apologizing.”

He shook his head. His hair was quite long, the curls

bouncing on his shoulders when he moved like that. “Nah.
Damned pooch got under my feet. He’s been doing that all
morning.” He looked down at the hairy bundle that also
seemed to have made its way into my kitchen. “Charles?
What’s up with you, buddy?”

“Charles?”

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Flynn grinned. “Some ex of my sister’s left him behind

one summer. He’s an adopted family pet.” He must have
seen the confusion on my face as I tried to match question
with answer. “The ex was a Brit called Charles. The dog was
the best thing she got out of that deal, and we named it after
him. Charlie on a daily basis, Charles when he pisses me
off.” He flopped comfortably down onto one of my kitchen
chairs and reached under the table, ruffling the dog’s ears. I
saw his expression soften. “I’m her dog-sitter whenever she’s
out of town. He’s never been any trouble. Just today.”

“Today?”

Flynn peered at me. “Sorry, you got a speech problem or

something? I mean, it’s no problem to me, I can talk enough
for us both—”

“I’m fine,” I said sharply. I sat down as well, but rather

abruptly and not quite as comfortably. “It’s just… well, I
don’t like dogs.”

Flynn stared at me. The dog lifted his shaggy head, and

large, dark brown eyes stared at me as well. I understood the
derivation of the word “limpid.”

“I mean….” I felt surprisingly ill-prepared for all of this.

“You mean,” Flynn interrupted helpfully, “you didn’t like

them before now.”

“Yes.” I barely recognized my own voice. “Probably that’s

it.”

Flynn smiled encouragingly at me. He slung an arm over

the back of the chair. It drew attention to the fact his bare
torso was… well, still bare. Charles stood up on his four
short legs and pattered across my kitchen. His feet made

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tapping noises on the tiles, and the tag on his collar clinked
as he moved. He nosed about under my fridge, then snorted
as if for the world he was disappointed at the well-swept floor
underneath.

“Nice place you have,” Flynn said. “Mine… well.”

He didn’t seem to want to elucidate. I tore my gaze away

from him and caught sight of the digital timer set neatly on
the top of the counter. “Oh God, I’m so very late for work.”
The meeting was scheduled to start in fifteen minutes. I
stood up just as abruptly as I’d sat down, wondering where
I’d left the briefcase, trying to remember which clean shirts I
could change into. As if I didn’t usually have all that
information at my fingertips. “This has never happened to
me before. It’s been an astonishing morning.”

“For me too.” Flynn nodded. “Except I’ve never been so

early.” He grinned at me. “Bar work, you know? I don’t
usually start the day until late. But Charlie’s been
scratching at the kitchen cupboards since dawn, pretty
unusual for him. Then something set off an alarm in the
building across the way—that overlooks my kitchen window,
you know? Plus a couple of cats chose that time to start a
fight in the alley.” He shrugged. “So much damned noise, I
just decided to get up anyway and take Charlie for his walk.”
He gave a large yawn and stretched up his arms. Belatedly
catching my eye, he cupped his hand over his mouth. I was,
embarrassingly, more interested in the muscles bunching
across his shoulders than his manners.

Flynn was looking at me rather curiously. “What a day,

eh?” His voice was soft.

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“I’ll call. Work, that is,” I said quickly. I still had five

minutes left to ask them to hold the meeting for me. I
reached for the handset on the wall at just about the same
time Charles barked and his head went up. Perhaps it was
something he saw in the hallway. I never had the chance to
ask. He went from stationary to ballistic missile in three
seconds flat, speeding past me on his way out of the kitchen
on the upward thrust. I fell forward over him, the phone still
in my hand, and Flynn leaped up from his chair with a cry of
alarm.

I found myself back on my ass, this time on my own

floor, and also this time tangled up with a half-naked Flynn.
I realized I was still gripping the phone. Not that it’d do me
any good. The end of its wires waved around like Medusa’s
hair, ripped from the wall as I fell.

“Got to stop meeting like this,” Flynn gasped. His skin

was warm under me.

“My cell charger is broken,” I blurted out.

Flynn, to give him credit, knew exactly what I was

saying with this particular non sequitur. He wriggled out
from under me with a rueful smile, holding on to my hand,
presumably to help me regain my stability. “And I don’t have
my cell on me, man. I’m sorry. You thought of taking
vacation today?”

I was horrified to find I felt like weeping. All over the

bare torso, my head buried in the crook of Flynn’s neck. It
was shock. Over by the door, Charles stood to attention,
staring at us both, now down on his level. He made a strange
noise in the back of his throat.

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“If I didn’t know it was totally weird,” Flynn said slowly,

frowning, “I’d say that was a chuckle.”

F

LYNN

came back around to my apartment a week later,

about seven in the evening, as we’d arranged. Ten past
actually, though I’d been ready since the specific time. I
opened the door to him with no trouble this time to find him
clutching a bottle of wine, gripping a book under his arm,
and smiling at me. I just stood there, smiling back. It seemed
to be all I wanted to do at that moment, although I’d had
some witty phrases practiced. Charles pattered into the
apartment past me, sputtering through his teeth, the dog tag
jingling with his swagger.

Flynn was fully dressed, unlike last time we’d met, with

the same loose jeans and a fairly clean though eye-
strainingly bright yellow T-shirt. “Hi, Toby,” he said quite
softly.

“Hi,” I said. It wasn’t a word I often used, preferring

more formal greetings, but it sounded appropriate. “Um…
didn’t I mention it’s Tobias, actually?” No one had called me
Toby since I’d been in kindergarten. I was sure I’d introduced
myself to him with my full name.

Flynn nodded. His hand brushed down my arm. “Sure,

that’s good too, Toby.”

I gave up. It didn’t seem to matter. It felt very easy,

anyway. We both walked into the kitchen and sat down at
the table. On opposite sides. Flynn put his things down, and
Charles scuffled about on the floor under the table until he

harlie hcles lare ondon

seemed content to settle. Flynn cleared his throat. “So how
shall we do this?”

“I can’t go through with it,” I blurted out.

He raised his eyebrows. “Huh? But when I rang to check

the time, you said it sounded like a good idea—”

I held up a hand. “I know I did. I apologize. I was being

polite.”

“Polite?” From the look on his face, I might as well have

said I was skinning a sheep.

I bit my lip. “I’d had a fall—a shock. You had some

unusual theories and were very… enthusiastic about them. I
thought it would be interesting to discuss them further. But
thinking it over during the week….”

“Oh, Toby.”

“What?” I felt strangely defensive. His tone had been

very odd. Resigned. As if he’d expected my rejection. “Flynn,
I can’t pretend to believe in things I don’t.”

“You reckon last Monday morning was just the same old

routine for either of us?”

I frowned. “Of course not. But that doesn’t mean it was

anything….”

“Sinister?”

“It was just different,” I said firmly. “I mean, we’re

different. Aren’t we?” I peered at him. Compared his healthy
skin to my pale flesh, his casual clothes to my pressed
pants, and the sparkle in his eye to my cautious discretion.
My stomach churned for some strange reason, despite

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having had my normal lunch. “It means we won’t think the
same about things.”

“Doesn’t mean we can’t,” he replied quickly.

“You mean about—” I waved my hand vaguely around

the whole room. “This?”

He shook his head rather dispiritedly. Even so, I liked

the way the curls brushed his ears. All his expressions
rested in his eyes. When he put out his hand and rested it
on top of mine, I didn’t pull away. Even if it were just for…
what? To calm me? To try to persuade me into this madcap
scheme?

“Toby, I looked it up in the local history book. It all

happened in this building, this week, fifty years ago. Tonight.
And last Monday? The whole thing about us there at the
same time, you too late for work, me too early—something
intervened to bring us together. We wouldn’t normally have
met there at all, without—”

“Coincidence.” Even the back of his hand was warmly

tanned. I knew people looked like that, people who didn’t
spend fourteen hours of every day in a high-rise office
building stuck behind a screen, correcting their boss’s
spreadsheets as if they were particularly recalcitrant
children. I just hadn’t ever met one. Touched one, I suppose
I meant. Warm and tanned. Was Flynn like that as a man,
not just as skin?

“Toby?”

I looked up guiltily. We were very different. I pulled my

hand away.

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“I said, don’t you think it was more like….” He had the

sense to blush. “Like a set up?”

I started to laugh. “Who’d set us up? And why? Flynn, it

was just a messy accident.”

He went rather quiet. He pulled his hand back as well.

“Okay.”

I was quiet too. The easy feeling seemed to have… eased

away. I glanced over at the pasta, simmering on the stove. It
was one of my favorite reliable recipes. I’d been proud of the
preparation, everything going well, looking forward to the
evening. What on earth had I been thinking? “I’ll understand
if you want to cut your visit short.”

“Oh, but I don’t!” he said quickly. “I still think it was

fate, you know? That we’d be friends.” More of the blushing.
It was very… cute was the word. I couldn’t help myself
thinking it. “You see, I’ve seen you around the building,
Toby, plenty of times. Just didn’t have the nerve to say hi.
Until that day’s mess.”

I stared back. I suddenly had visions of a pale, sandy

beach stretching for miles and the whoosh of waves in the
background. Flynn’s hand back in mine. I wondered if I’d
suffered some stress disorder after the fall. Delayed reaction.
I had been dreaming rather more vividly than usual, all
week. That beach, that hand….

“Okay.” Flynn looked away quickly but not before I saw

his dismay at my blank face. “I get it. No reason you’d feel
the same. No problem.” But the tone of his voice implied it
was. He pushed his chair back, away from the table. “In fact,
maybe I should leave.”

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The sudden hiss on the stove was a clear sign the pasta

was boiling over. I scrambled up out of my own chair,
grabbing for the heat control just in time. Luckily, I was also
quick enough to stretch out an arm—simultaneously—to
catch the plates falling off the counter, heading for
destruction on the tiles. And then I swerved to avoid the
open door of the wall cupboard from stabbing me in the eye.
With an inch to spare.

I turned back to face Flynn. I knew I’d turned the heat

down to minimum before he arrived. Pushed the plates safely
to the back of the counter. Closed all the cupboards. I knew I
had.

“Let’s eat,” I said. “We’ll talk about it then.”

I

SERVED

the pasta, spooning over the sauce with a slightly

shaky hand, and laid out the cutlery. The room warmed up,
and Flynn complimented the food. Things started to ease
again. I suspected he wasn’t a man who held grudges for
long. When I offered him a napkin to wipe a dribble of sauce
off his chin, he trailed his fingers across my wrist and
smiled. Then he wiped the spill with his finger instead and
sucked off the sauce between his lips.

I ended up putting too much pepper on my meal. I

didn’t seem to be paying enough attention.

“So,” I said, as we pushed our empty plates aside. “I still

don’t believe….” I couldn’t bring myself to expound on that.
“But do you really think there was something else going on?”

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“With our meeting? Yeah. Worth doing a little research,

anyway.” He nodded enthusiastically again. “I’m sure we
were brought together for a reason, Toby. And it’s something
about the kitchens. Most of the disasters that delayed you
happened in yours; Charlie was rummaging about in mine
when he woke me early. All the other noise happened close
by. And Charlie tripped you up right here, didn’t he? When
you were trying to call work and leave the apartment again.”

I frowned. “It’s ludicrous. Totally circumstantial.”

Flynn shrugged. “We’re not talking science here.” He

pressed his hand down on the book he’d brought with him.
“I can show you the chapter in the book—”

“Later, maybe.” I bit my lip. The light in his eyes was

fascinating. “And this is the best time to observe? Shouldn’t
there be a full moon or something?”

Flynn’s eyes darkened. It was like the cloud that comes

down suddenly in a summer squall. “Look, Toby, I know you
think this is bullshit.” His voice was harsher than I’d heard it
before. “You think you’ve bumped into this guy in the
corridor—literally!—you spilled some coffee down him,
shared an apology, invited him around for a consolation
meal. But now he wants to draw pentangles, sacrifice
rabbits, and probably dance naked on the couch at
midnight.” He stood up clumsily. “I’m out of here.”

The howl from under the table made us both jump. I

lurched up from my chair and grabbed at Flynn’s arm. The
ceiling lights flickered and settled again. Something fell over
with a thud in the cupboard under the sink, and the tap
spat out several bursts of hot, steaming water.

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Charles made one of his strange noises.

“You shouldn’t have given him some of your pasta.” I

swallowed heavily and drew Flynn even closer. “I said it’d be
too spicy for him.”

Flynn kindly didn’t remind me I’d purported to dislike

dogs and therefore shouldn’t be concerned with their
chances of indigestion. Instead, he slipped an arm around
my waist.

Things went quiet and still between us.

“Shit. I mean, sorry.” His hand started to pull away

again.

“It’s okay,” I said very quickly, and I tightened my own

grip on him.

“You don’t mind?” he whispered in my ear.

“No.” My stomach was churning again but not in an

unpleasant way. “Not at all.”

He tensed up as if both surprised and pleased. “You

think they’ve possessed him?”

“I’m sorry?” Our faces were very close together. He

smelled of warm tomato sauce and a citrus soap. It was
astonishing how neither of us seemed bothered about the
personal space issue. Particularly not me. “What? Who?”

“Poltergeists,” he muttered. “Possessing Charlie.” I could

feel his heart beating very fast in the pulse at his wrist.

“That’s what you think it’s about? Poltergeists?”

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He nodded. He shifted his head back and forth as if he

might catch sight of such things darting across the floor of
my minimalist yet stylish kitchen like otherworldly mice.

“You think there’s some kind of plot?” I grimaced.

“Between malicious spirits and… your dog?”

Flynn paused in his observations. A smile tugged at the

corners of his generous mouth. His gaze returned to my face,
sliding down from my eyes to my throat and then back up.
“Okay. Sounds ludicrous, right?”

“Right,” I replied. But I started to smile too.

“I wouldn’t put it past Charlie, though. He’s an

independent kind of dog.”

“And those strange noises he makes….”

“The chuckles?”

I nodded. I’d have said more, but Charlie’s teeth seemed

to be measuring up my ankle from under the table, and I
thought it wise to reserve judgment. “Why are you doing this,
Flynn?”

He looked startled, glanced down at his arm, and

colored.

“No,” I said hurriedly, worried suddenly he’d let me go.

“I mean, chasing poltergeists. Making contact.” I winced, but
I thought I’d got the phrase accurately enough. “Do you want
to document it somehow? Exorcise them?”

He was still flushed. “Not at all. I want to help. And

maybe… thank them. For sending me… your company. You
know?” He tightened his hold on me, though his look was
wary.

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Did I know? I’d been rather churlish about it all so far, I

realized. Plus I was rather fascinated by the mental vision of
Flynn dancing naked on my couch at midnight and, more
disturbingly, the knowledge I’d considered seeking a B
feature of some sort associated with that. Later on.

“We ought to set up watch, then.” I pulled away gently.

“I’ll wash up. You put on some coffee. There’s extra sugar in
the cupboard.”

I

T HAD

been a good idea of mine to pull a couple of the

garden loungers into the kitchen. They were far more
comfortable to sit in for long periods of time. Even though
Flynn and I seemed to have ended up sharing one between
us, our bodies were perfectly relaxed and nudging against
each other.

Charles was curled up in the middle of the other one.

He’d found my cashmere scarf from somewhere and was
using it as an extra cushion. He’d fallen asleep an hour ago,
and I admit I was relieved. I’d never been keen on
chaperones, despite what my mother may have tried to tell
me.

“It’s at the end of Chapter Five,” Flynn muttered though

a mouthful of chocolate brownie. He was on his third
helping. The recipe for them was something I had welcomed
from my mother. “Shall I get the book out? Show you
another picture of the building in the old days?”

“No need,” I said. “Just tell me again.” I wriggled as

surreptitiously as I could to get a bit closer. He flattened his

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hand, the palm resting against my hip, the fingertips
stroking my thigh—surely by accident?

He gave a small sigh, which I hoped was happiness. It

may have been from indigestion, of course. “This building
has been haunted since that day, they say. All sort of
unexplained accidents, objects moved, gone missing.
Especially in this corridor. It always happens around the
anniversary of the two old guys who lived at opposite ends of
this landing and who died on the same day. Seemed one had
terminal cancer, and when he never woke up one morning,
the other just lay down and died peacefully beside him. The
landlord found all their possessions shared between the two
apartments.”

“It’s a sad tale.”

Flynn nodded. “They’d been secret lovers for years,

hiding away from the outside world.”

Charlie huffed in his sleep and scratched aimlessly at

the scarf underneath his belly.

“Did they have a dog?” I asked wryly.

“You want me to check?” Flynn asked. He sounded

genuinely eager.

“No, not now.”

Flynn laughed softly. “I’m kind of pleased about that. I

think Charlie’s lying on the book as well.”

I was kind of pleased too, though my reasons were more

to do with the way Flynn had thrown his leg casually over
the top of mine on the seat. “Um, Flynn… it’s nearly

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midnight.” We’d been lying there since eight twenty-seven.
“You think there’ll be anything to see tonight?”

“I don’t know. This was the actual day the guys died,

you know? That’s why I suggested we….”

“Yes,” I said. “You suggested we went on a poltergeist

hunt, though that’s not what you called it at the time.” And
I’d agreed, though not because I believed in the afterlife or
mischievous spirits.

There was more to the sad history, in that the men had

suffered appalling discrimination for the mere suspicion of
being gay. One had been fired from his promising job in a
large insurance firm. The other had been a very talented
sportsman who’d been dropped from his professional team.
They’d had a hard life, financially, and there’d been very few
material possessions when their deaths were investigated.
The neighbors at the time had reported they were both very
genial, tolerant men. But they’d had to move far away from
their home town and remained very discreet in local society.
So it had been a hard life emotionally, too, never able to
proclaim their relationship, to boast about it or enjoy it in
the outside world.

It provoked uneasy feelings in me, definitely “out of the

ordinary” feelings.

“It’s still an old story, Flynn.” I could feel his breath

hitch at the nape of my neck. “An unfortunate symptom of
its time. I don’t think we can draw any tenable comparisons
in the twenty-first century.”

“Well… I…. Sure.”

There was a small, pregnant silence between us.

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“Nor do I see why we’ve inherited the haunting, if that’s

what it is.”

“No.” Flynn turned his head away. “Me neither.”

He looked dispirited again, and I had a strong, aching

desire to bring the smile back to his face. “Tell me some
more. You thought they’d brought us together for some
reason? Maybe it was to seek brutal revenge against the
people who tormented them.” It sounded ridiculous even as I
spoke, but no one laughed.

“Well, no reason to target us then,” Flynn said

thoughtfully. “You know? We’re both happy with however
people want to be. Happy with how we are. Out and proud,
right?”

There was yet another of those still, quiet moments.

“Fuck,” Flynn said. “Toby, I’m sorry, I thought….”

“No, it’s all right.” And, surprisingly, it was. “Shawn

didn’t like us making a thing of it at work, so I never told
anyone there. Not specifically. And I told my mother, but she
refuses to believe me. It’s not exactly out, but it’s not in
either. Is it?”

Flynn started to laugh. “You’re so cool.”

“Me?” It was a shock. I couldn’t recall ever being called

that.

“Yeah. Feels like I could talk about anything to you.

You’re a clever guy but not too… you know.”

And after a moment’s adjustment, I was pleased to find

myself laughing along with him.

harlie hcles lare ondon

W

E WERE

talking about other things, or that’s what we’d

told ourselves to do to pass some more time.

“So, Toby. What did they say at work last Monday? Was

there a shitload of trouble waiting for you, being so late?”

I drew in a deep breath. “It was very odd.” I don’t know

why I’d expected anything else, after the start to that day.
“Mr. Evans had called in with the flu. The meeting was
postponed until Wednesday, so I didn’t miss it after all.” I
remembered the atmosphere in the office, as if we’d been
given extra vacation—as if the rod of iron with which he
ruled the office had melted for the day. Mr. Evans hadn’t
ever called in sick in the six years I’d worked there.

“And you did okay?”

I smiled and flushed. It was a long time since anyone

had been interested in my working day. “Yes, I did. I should
be up for promotion in the new season.” And chocolate
biscuits too. Flynn stretched out beside me with a yawn, his
hip rubbing against mine. The biscuits didn’t seem so critical
now, though.

“Toby. When I first saw you… you know.”

No, I thought, but I waited for him to continue. We lay

shoulder to shoulder but neither looking at the other.

“You always seemed so smart and successful. Cute in

that suit of yours.” His gaze darted to my face then away
again, as if he thought he’d gone too far. “Like you were in
control of it all.”

harlie hcles lare ondon

“It all?”

“Life.” He laughed softly. “You looked bold. Confident.”

Me?

“What business are you in?”

I swallowed carefully. “Insurance.”

Flynn made a coughing noise.

“And I’m only a junior.” Not bold at all. “But I think with

proper study and a well-organized life, I have the opportunity
to progress. I just need to step carefully, Mr. Evans says.”

“He does, does he?”

I blinked hard. “Yes. That’s his advice.”

Flynn shrugged against me. “Isn’t it just. Sounds like he

doesn’t want you moving up too fast. Moving over him, like I
expect you would.”

“I… don’t want to risk upsetting the boss.” My words

were small, sticky lumps in my throat. Hadn’t I agreed with
Flynn’s impression of my career not so long ago? Shawn had
laughed at any ambition I ever had, always told me to keep
my head down and play safe.

“Don’t mean to be rude, Toby, though you struck me at

first as kind of buttoned up, I admit. But now I know you
better and….”

“What?”

“It doesn’t sound like you. You strike me as quite a

passionate guy, quite determined. Not afraid of risks, of
putting yourself forward. And you’ve got an inquiring mind,
like me.”

harlie hcles lare ondon

“I do?” If I did, it must have been hidden somewhere

under that old cashmere scarf for some time. I realized I’d
never really liked its color. My new one was bright blue and a
much better quality. Something flickered inside me that felt
very much like excitement.

“Yeah.” Flynn laughed. “If you could see your face! All

flushed and eager….” His gaze met mine, and he grimaced,
as if his smile was a little too much to maintain. “Hey, I
think you’re as excited by this ludicrous ghost-watch as
much as I am.”

I should have been offended at such personal

comments, I really should have. Even though he was
assessing me in completely the opposite way to Shawn. Or
was that the reason I felt so good? “So what about you,
Flynn?”

“Me?”

“Do you like your bar work?”

To my surprise, he flushed very deeply. I felt his body

tense up and draw away from me by nothing more than an
inch, but it felt much more. “It’s okay. Until I’m fit again.”

“Fit?”

He sighed. “Guess it’s no secret. I’m a skater, Toby.

Skateboarding. Or I was. Sort of going professional, you
know? Then I smashed my knee.” He bit his lip. “There you
are. My story, short and sweet, end of.”

“But your knee’s okay now?” Of course, that accounted

for his healthy, outdoorsy look. But I’d never seen him walk
with any kind of a limp. “Are you competing again?”

harlie hcles lare ondon

He stared at me. Then he sat up abruptly, swinging his

legs over the side of the seat. His voice sounded tight and
pained. “Knew I’d make a fool of myself. I’m not the kind of
guy fits in with city types, you know?”

“Wait a minute….”

“You’re right. Nothing spooky’s going to happen tonight.

This has been a complete waste of time. I’ve been an idiot,
annoying you like this. I’ll go now.” And he started to stand
up.

Several things happened at once. I lurched upright as

well, trying to catch his arm and stop him. Charles woke
abruptly with a loud bark, his head going up, his eyes wide
and his damp nose sniffing the air. A wall cupboard door
opened, three cups fell out with a smash onto the kitchen
floor, and the lid sprang off the coffee jar, spraying dark
granules all over the counter. And then two of the legs on the
chair gave way very suddenly, crashing it down on the floor
on one side. I fell awkwardly with a loud yell as Flynn slid
across the chair and thumped down on top of me.

“Ouch.” I straightened my leg, reassuring myself the

pain in my ankle was only a spasm. Charles was still
barking. Flynn lay immobile on the floor, panting, staring at
me. I didn’t think he’d been hurt, but his distress was
obvious.

“It doesn’t matter what you do, what type you are,” I

said. The words came out without me thinking—a rare event,
if I’d taken time to analyze it. “Of course it doesn’t. That’s not
what you are. Do you hear me?”

harlie hcles lare ondon

“I’ve lost my nerve,” he said, the words tumbling out,

slurring a bit. He wasn’t really answering me, and his eyes
looked a little wild. “It’s gone. I tell the guys my knee still
hurts, but it doesn’t. I just keep imagining the fall. I’ll never
skate again.”

“For God’s sake,” I snapped. His mouth dropped open.

“What did you say to me about risk-taking? About putting
myself forward?”

Flynn frowned. “Back off, Toby. It’s not the same.”

“Yes it is.” I grabbed his chin and pulled his head

around so he looked straight at me. “You’re tougher than
that. I can tell that about you, like you can tell… those
things about me. If you like, I can help you make a training
schedule. We can get you match fit again. If you want it.”

His mouth opened and then closed, then opened again.

“I want it.”

I nodded. I liked the way the pleasure spiked in my

chest despite my obviously premature intentions to keep my
emotions in check. “You won’t do it overnight, but you can
start. Step carefully like Mr. Evans told me—”

“But with a view to jumping up and over him in the

future?” Flynn started to smile again. “Told you, you were a
clever guy.”

I pulled us both up to our knees, and I kissed him.

He tasted of chocolate brownie and shock. Then his

tongue slipped into my mouth, and the taste became
something much wilder, much more delicious. Much riskier.
We didn’t break for quite some time. By the time I pulled
reluctantly away, Charlie had stopped barking and had

harlie hcles lare ondon

settled himself back down on the unbroken chair. Glancing
over, I saw the brown canine eyes watching us carefully.

“I’ve noticed you, too, Flynn,” I said. “Plenty of times. I

should have said. I was just so sure I didn’t believe in all this
spirit nonsense, and anyway, I was too boring to interest
another guy, and I’d just give up any claims to passion and
step more carefully in future—”

“Don’t,” Flynn said. “Whatever.”

There was more kissing.

“Skateboarding,” I said slowly. “You know, I always

thought it looked….”

“Dangerous?” he whispered.

I put my hand very deliberately on his knee and started

to slide my fingers up his thigh. “Exciting.”

Flynn sucked in a breath and gave a short, sharp laugh.

“I’ll take you out some day.”

“Yes,” I said. “That’d be good.”

His eyes widened as he realized what he’d said. What I’d

said. “I need to tell you something first, Toby. That guy you
were dating… Shawn?”

I sighed. “It’s all right. It’s all over now. I expect you saw

him down at the bar, am I right? I expect you have male
dancers there. And some with the too-tight shorts and
private cell numbers all but tattooed on their asses?”

He nodded, looking both relieved and concerned. “I’d

never have said anything before. But you deserve better.”

harlie hcles lare ondon

“I don’t miss Shawn,” I said, realizing it was true. “But

I’ve never had much luck with boyfriends in the past.”

“Not anymore,” he murmured and pressed his lips back

on to mine.

W

E BROKE

apart again, a rather longer time later.

“It’s the leaving thing that seems to cause the trouble.”

Flynn nodded, knowing immediately what I meant. “If

either of us tries to leave without at least making a date with
the other, all hell breaks loose.”

I nodded. Charlie snuffled sleepily, but his beady eyes

were still watching us.

“What are we going to do?” Flynn’s cheeks looked very

pink. “Is the possession thing going to last beyond tonight,
you think?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “Today is the anniversary, you

said, but who knows what the rules are? What the
poltergeists are up to?”

Flynn gazed at me. His eyes were full of laughter. “You

thinking the same thing I am?”

“You bet,” I said. “Like you said, being different types of

man doesn’t mean we can’t.”

“So.” He grinned. “We can’t leave each other. At least,

not yet.”

I nodded again.

harlie hcles lare ondon

“Have to find some entertainment until the coast is

clear.”

I ran my hand slowly up his bare, warmly tanned arm,

watching the hairs rise up in its wake. “I just can’t afford to
lose any more crockery. But it’s too late to start skateboard
training.”

He snorted. “I’ll assume that’s your idea of a joke.”

I kissed him so that he understood more clearly.

“But we never found out why this was happening.” He

wasn’t exactly complaining, because I was leading him slowly
out of the kitchen and he was following quite willingly. “What
they want of us.”

I shrugged.

“And why the hell does it all happen in the kitchen?”

“I don’t know,” I said. My voice sounded very husky, and

my legs felt shaky with anticipation. I definitely wouldn’t be
up for nude dancing on the couch, though I hoped Flynn’s
idea of entertainment might be somewhat similar to mine
and involve some bare skin. “But do you think it’ll follow us
to the bedroom? I’m keen to show you what a passionate guy
I can really be.”

“I’m sure it won’t.” Flynn’s eyes were shining now. I’d

never found so much reward in one person’s facial
expressions. “I’m sure if we establish that we’re now dating…
will be seen out together on a regular basis…”

“…could meet my mother….” I sighed, but I was smiling.

“That’ll do it,” Flynn murmured. He ran his lips along

the edge of my jaw and pushed at me to encourage me out of

harlie hcles lare ondon

the door. “And anyway, Charlie knows what’s going on with
us. The message will get through.”

Charlie barked just the once and then deliberately

turned his head away.

W

EEKS

later, I was still having vivid dreams, though they

weren’t always about Flynn. They didn’t all involve chocolate
brownies or crashing waves or just the soft, sleepy, sexy
smell of his skin and his grin against my mouth or the way
he rolled me under him in bed with kind, firm, reverential
hands until we became linked together in a deep, sensual
way I’d never imagined could happen.

No, these dreams were of two other young men. Looking

at me, smiling, one behind the other, with his arms around
him.

“

J

UST

how dense are the young men of these modern times,

William?” The slim, chestnut-haired one in front sighed. “All
the work we did to bring them together, and they still took
their time in dating. Hasn’t education progressed as we once
hoped?”

“They do say never to work with either children or

animals, Albert.” The darker-haired man behind him was
broader and had a very engaging grin.

harlie hcles lare ondon

Albert drew himself up with an affronted air. “I believe

press-ganging the pet Charlie into service was a master
stroke.”

“Maybe. Though he may have had his own agenda,”

William muttered, “with those sinfully good chocolate cakes
of Tobias’s.”

“And, good Lord. We were after brutal revenge?” Albert

shook his head sadly.

“Of course not, no reason for that. And no time for it.

Not now we’re together. Renewed. Free.” William’s fingers
teased under the buttons of Albert’s best waistcoat.

Albert chuckled mischievously. “No, indeed. But luckily

there’s enough time to help another confused couple find
their way to happiness.”

William shook his head. “You like to meddle.”

Albert shrugged. “You never complained before.”

“No.” William’s look was fond. “And it’s good to see them

together in these times with a new independence.”

Albert caught his lover’s hand. For a moment, his

banter ceased. “Do you envy them?”

William nuzzled against his ear. “Sometimes. They have

the chance of living out their romance with honesty, not
horror, and for that I envy them. But we all live the life we
have as best we can.” He placed a kiss on Albert’s neck. “We
always had honesty between us.”

“When we were alone.”

harlie hcles lare ondon

“Talking of which….” William smiled again, but at

something other than Albert. “Remember we stay away from
the bedroom. Though I must say, there’s evidence Tobias is
proving a very enthusiastic and athletic young gentleman in
bed. The pursuit of passion and a certain recklessness is
becoming his way of life.”

“Flynn has a purpose too,” said Albert, as proudly as if

the young man were his own kin. “He’s stronger than ever
and proud to work with Tobias. He’ll be very successful one
day.”

“They both will.” William brushed back a lock of Albert’s

hair from his forehead. “But will you answer me the
question: What was the issue with the kitchen?”

Albert laughed loudly. “I didn’t mean it to start that way!

But the room played such a part in our lives that I always
feel drawn there. All the packets of sugar I came to borrow
from you, all the stews you brought for me when you
accidentally cooked too much.”

William laughed too. “And the chicken soup and warm

milk when I was….”

They fell silent for a moment. A shadow of sadness

passed over Albert’s face. “Any excuse to come to you, to be
with you,” he whispered. He leaned back against William, his
eyes half closed.

William sucked in a heavy breath. His hand tightened

on Albert’s shirt. “Come away now,” he urged. “They need no
more help.”

harlie hcles lare ondon

Albert frowned, but there was mischief back in his soft

brown eyes. “Are you sure? I’ve heard Flynn complain that
Tobias bites him.”

William rolled his eyes. “And Tobias demands many

times that Flynn must take what he wants, and harder, and
faster—”

“And that’s enough, I believe. You’ve convinced me to

leave them alone.” Albert turned in the haven of the other
man’s arms and peered at him appraisingly. “I much admire
the return of our youth. Though I wonder, were you ever
really that good-looking in life?”

William roared with laughter. “Maybe I was, until you

came along and spoiled me with your lascivious behavior.”

Albert chuckled again.

“I love your laugh,” William murmured. His eyes

softened, and his arms enfolded his lover’s body. “I will never
tire of it.”

“I will never tire of you,” Albert said simply. “That’s why

I refused to live without you.”

A

ND

then usually, not before time, Charlie’s barking would

wake me up, calling both Flynn and me to get out of bed and
take him for a walk. At least, that’s what I assumed he was
saying in dog language.

Because I was learning to take “out of the ordinary” as

routine, nowadays.

et more stories from

The Dreamspinner Press 2010 Daily Dose

package of thirty stories is available at

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About the Author

C

LARE

L

ONDON

took her pen name from the city where she

lives, loves, and writes. A lone, brave female in a frenetic,
testosterone-fueled family home, she juggles her writing with
the weekly wash, waiting for the far distant day when she
can afford to give up her day job as an accountant.

She’s written in many genres and across many settings, with
novels and short stories published both online and in print.
She says she likes variety in her writing while friends say
she’s just fickle, but as long as both theories spawn good
fiction, she’s happy. Most of her work features male/male
romance and drama with a healthy serving of physical
passion, as she enjoys both reading and writing about
strong, sympathetic, and sexy characters.

Clare currently has several novels sulking at that tricky
chapter three stage and plenty of other projects in mind…
she just has to find out where she left them in that frenetic,
testosterone-fueled family home.

Visit Clare’s web site at http://www.clarelondon.co.uk and
her blog at http://clarelondon.livejournal.com/.

Find more stories by

C

LARE

L

ONDON

at

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REAMSPINNER

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RESS

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Copyright

Charlie Chuckles ©Copyright Clare London, 2010

Published by
Dreamspinner Press
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Suite 244-149
Frisco, TX 75034
http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the
authors’ imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead,
business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

Cover Art by Paul Richmond http://www.paulrichmondstudio.com
Cover Design by Mara McKennen

This book is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution via any means is
illegal and a violation of International Copyright Law, subject to criminal prosecution and upon
conviction, fines and/or imprisonment. This eBook cannot be legally loaned or given to others. No
part of this eBook can be shared or reproduced without the express permission of the publisher. To
request permission and all other inquiries, contact Dreamspinner Press at: 4760 Preston Road, Suite
244-149, Frisco, TX 75034 http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/

Released in the United States of America
June 2010

eBook Edition
eBook ISBN: 978-1-61581-484-8