The Passenger by Daniel Hurst (great book club books TXT) 📕

No wonder Charles is so flush with his cash. He obviously can afford to be.

It’s a far cry from my little flat in Brighton, where Louise and I are constantly tripping over each other’s things in our daily battle for space and privacy. But the size of this apartment also makes me feel a little sad because it’s far too big for one man to live in alone.

All the money in the world can’t bring back his Mary.

I haven’t failed to notice the numerous photos around the apartment of Charles and his late wife, all of them taken at various points in their long relationship. There are the black-and-white ones from their younger days, and there are the colour ones in which it’s become more evident that time has started to take a toll on their bodies but not on their love for each other.

Charles has pointed out a few of his favourites to me already, including the one of him and Mary beside the Trevi Fountain in Rome. It’s clear that all he wants is somebody to reminisce with to fill his long, lonely hours. Ideally, he would find a new partner for that, preferably one closer to his age, but then again, with his money, he could probably attract whoever he wanted. But for the interim, he just needs company tonight, any company, and I’m glad I can provide it for him. The fact I am being paid a ridiculous amount of money to do it is not ideal for my conscience, but I have to remember that I am out tonight because I am working, so it’s only right that I earn.

‘Here we go,’ Charles says as he brings our drinks over and joins me on the sofa.

‘Thank you,’ I say as I accept the gin and tonic, and I’m just about to take a sip when he stops me.

‘We haven’t toasted yet,’ he reminds me, and I lower my glass.

Charles takes a moment to decide on what it is exactly that we should drink to before fixing me with his warm smile and raising his measure of whiskey.

‘To you, Amanda. May you one day sell so many books that you can buy yourself a home like this and be my neighbour.’

I laugh at the toast, but also feel touched that he is still conscious of my dream. Even in his lonely state, he displays such a caring attitude towards others.

We touch glasses before drinking, and I savour the refreshing liquid as it slips down my throat. Having been on red wine for the whole evening, it’s nice to have a change of pace, and as I take another sip, I’m not regretting coming back here at all.

‘I can’t get over how incredible your view is,’ I say, marvelling again at the sight of the river flowing by outside.

‘Do you have a view in your place?’ he asks me, and I laugh, not because the question is ridiculous but because the answer is.

‘Yeah, I have a view. I can see the side of the next building if I strain my head out of the bathroom window enough.’

Charles smiles and takes a sip of his whiskey, and I catch a glimpse of the golden wedding band on his fourth finger.

I take a moment to ponder whether I should go ahead and say what’s on my mind, and in the end, I decide to go for it because I’m not going to see him after tonight anyway.

‘I know you have said that you could never find love again after Mary,’ I begin, treading carefully so as not to upset my host. ‘But I really think you should at least consider going on a few dates. Proper ones, I mean. Not escorts.’

‘You mean with women my own age?’ he asks me.

‘No, that’s not what I mean at all,’ I quickly reply in case he is offended. ‘I just think it’s such a shame that you have your health, your wealth, and this beautiful apartment, but nobody to share it with. You could have another twenty years of life ahead of you. Don’t you want to make the best of it?’

Charles goes quiet for a moment, and I worry I’ve said too much. Why didn’t I just sip my drink and make small talk instead of trying to get all deep? He’ll probably tell me to leave now, and the possibility of that makes me keep speaking.

‘You’re such a nice man. You shouldn’t be paying people to be with you. It’s a privilege to be in your company.’

Maybe it’s all the alcohol talking, but I’m finding myself saying anything I can to make him smile. I know this is the last time I will see him, so I want to make sure I leave him feeling good about himself. I mean every word I say. Charles is a lovely man, but if he isn’t careful, then somebody might come along and take advantage of that, and they’ll be after a lot more than a few thousand pounds.

‘You know what, my dear, I think you might be right,’ Charles says, nodding his head. ‘It can’t do any harm to try. And it doesn’t have to mean that I love Mary any less, does it?’

‘Of course not,’ I tell him, placing my hand on his knee as a show of support. But I quickly remove it when I notice him look down at it.

I take another sip of my drink and decide to just finish it quickly now so I can get going for my train, when I feel Charles put his hand on my own leg.

‘I am going to miss you,’ he says, though I notice he isn’t looking at my face now and rather at my bare legs in my long skirt.

‘I’ll miss you too,’ I say, taking another hearty gulp of my drink, and now it’s almost gone.

Charles’s hand remains on my leg, however, and the longer it does, the more I start to feel uncomfortable about it.

‘I really should