The Burnley Boys

by Drew Black

  "Sixty pounds a week, that's triple what I'm getting now!"

  "We could keep it at twenty, if you'd prefer." Jessop said smiling his Carry Grant smile.

  "No, no sixty pounds a week is fantastic."

  "You don't know what the job entails yet. I might want you to work eighteen hours a day, or carry sacks of coal, from here to Blackburn for that matter."

  "I don't care, I like working here. Besides for sixty pounds a week I would carry sacks of coal to Blackburn!"

  Jessop roared with laughter; "Yes, I suppose you would, but you can rest assured, that's not what the job entails. As you probably know, Sam starts college shortly, and she'll have enough on her plate with her studies, so I want you to take over the administration of the estate, and also generally keep an eye on what goes on around here for me."

  Jack suddenly looked unsure.

  "What's the matter?" Jessop asked.

  "Well, if you don't mind me asking Mr Jessop, doesn't Mr Jackson look after the estate for you?"

  "Oh, don't worry about old Ted, I've already discussed it with him. He's a good foreman, but he'd be the first to admit, he's got no head for figures. Out there is his domain." Jessop said pointing out of the large picture window.

  Jack could just imagine the 'discussion' that Jessop had had with Ted and couldn't imagine that Ted would've had much say on the matter one way or another. "Okay, Mr Jessop, I'd be delighted to come and work for you. When do you want me to start?"

  "Well, I want you to be fresh Jack, the job will be an extremely demanding one, so I want you to take a holiday, unpaid of course, report back here a fortnight on Monday. Sam doesn't start college until the following week, so she'll be able to give you a heads up on what the job entails."

  "Okay." Jack paused for a moment ... "I don't know whether it's important or not, but I think you should know that my best friend works at your cotton mill."

  "Yes, Tom Ford, I know."

  Jack showed a look of surprise which Jessop seemed to enjoy.

  "I also know that you all had fillet steak for tea tonight!"

  Jack felt his cheeks flush with embarrassment.

  "But it is important, and you were right to tell me Jack. We'll see you in a fortnight then."

  "Okay, and thanks again Mr Jessop."

  As Jack was leaving the room Jessop said, "Oh Jack, one more thing. When you are conducting business on my behalf in the future, don't jump in too quickly, don't be too eager. I would’ve gone to sixty-five at a push."

  "Okay Mr Jessop I'll remember that, but do you want to know the truth?

  "Of course."

  I would’ve done it for fifty!"

  "Go on, get out of here, I'll see you on the fifteenth, eight o'clock sharp."

  5

  Tom had surprised himself at how quickly he had learned to read, so much so that he wished he'd learned years ago. However, he hadn't had Jack as a friend back then, and in fairness to himself he and his family had had other priorities since his father had died. Anyway, he'd managed to avoid working at the pit, albeit by the skin of his teeth, and had secured a job in the loading bay of Jessop's Cotton Mill. There's no way he would have got it without the basic literacy skills that Jack had taught him. It was amazing, the fear he had always felt around words had vanished, as if by magic, and the confidence this gave him was immense.

  The job required him to be check off consignment and delivery notes but was also very labour intensive. That didn't bother him though because he was used to hard work. However, it was a lot harder doing it eight hours a day, five days a week. Tom was part of a team of four, one if which was a guy called Harry Jacobs, the chargehand. Tom liked Harry, he seemed to take everything in his stride, and even when the pressure was on, he never got flustered. Unfortunately, though Harry was due to retire in less than twelve months’ time, and another member of the team, Dave Quilter had been earmarked to take over. Tom did not like Quilter who was twenty years old and full of his own self-importance. He was undoubtedly strong, but in Tom's opinion, he was also very lazy. The final member of the loading bay team was Jamie Caldwell a lad of eighteen who looked much younger. Jamie seemed to dislike Quilter as much as he did, so that made him okay in Tom's book.

  Tom wished that Harry had had a few more years to go before retirement which would've given him more time to outshine Quilter, but twelve months wasn't long enough, and he had to resign himself that in no time at all Quilter would be in charge.

  In comparison to the rest of the factory, the loading bay and storage facility were like a different world. They were much cooler and not half as noisy, although the constant rattle of the looms could still be heard from the floor above.

  "Tom." Quilter shouted snapping Tom out of his thoughts, "Hardman’s have just pulled in, you and Jamie start unloading, I'll be with you shortly. I'm just going to finish checking off the Cranson order."

  In other words, you’re going to go and sit on your fat ass for the next hour or so, whilst we do all the hard work Tom thought begrudgingly. "Okay Dave, no problem." he replied. He was determined not to give Quilter any excuse to call him to Harry, or even worse, Chris Benson the Factory Manager.

  The delivery was a double trailer and would be a real killer to unload. With Harry tied up in a meeting Quilter had no right to leave just the two of them to cope with all this work. Tom hated him, but knew that for now, at least, he just had to grin and bear it.

  Tom and Jamie struggled for over an hour before Quilter re-appeared. "How's it going lads?" Quilter enquired clipboard in hand. Before they had chance to answer; Quilter had sprung into life taking a box from the delivery driver and expertly flipping it onto his head. "Morning Mr Jessop." he said in a strained voice.

  "Morning." Jessop replied peering around the loading bay.

  Unfortunately for Tom, he had chosen that precise moment to catch his breath and was sat down on a stillage. He could not believe it. How was it physically possible for the mill owner to arrive at that exact moment?

  "Come on Tom, we don't want any slacking," Quilter bellowed, "we've broken the back of this one, another ten minutes and we'll be done."

  "Okay, Dave." Tom replied getting to his feet.

  "We're breaking him in slowly." Quilter quipped as he heaved box number two of a total of one hundred and sixty onto his head.

  "Where's Harry?" Jessop enquired.

  "He had a meeting first thing with Mr Benson."

  "Okay, carry on." Jessop replied glancing at his watch.

  Just then Harry rounded the corner of the loading bay.

  "Ah, there you are Harry, when you've finished up here come up to my office, I want your advice on something.”

  "Right you are Mr Jessop." Harry replied in that unflappable tone of his.

  Jessop nodded and disappeared into the stairwell.

  "What did the governor want?" Harry asked picking up the delivery notes.

  "Oh, he was just after you Harry, I told him you were in a meeting with Chris." Quilter said.

  "Good lad."

  "See you next week Bill." Quilter called out cheerily to the delivery driver, before disappearing back into the warehouse.

  "Not if I see you first." Tom heard Bill, the delivery driver, mutter as he was locking up the back of his wagon.

  Tom looked over at Bill and smiled.

  "Don't worry about that schmoozer son, every dog has it's day!"

  Tom looked surprised "Uh!"

  Bill just winked at him as he jumped nimbly down from the loading bay. "See you next week." He said banging the side of the now empty vehicle.

  The sound was music to Tom's ears. 'Every dog has it's day,' he liked the sound of that.

  6

  Dave Quilter was beginning to resent how well liked the new guy, Tom Ford, was becoming. He'd realised early on that Ford was a potential threat to his own ambitions, but it would be much easier to nail the guy, if he wasn't so bloody popular. Everyone seemed to like him, god only knew why. He was a sullen, mood
y character, but somehow that didn't seem to stop all the girls swooning whenever he walked by. He didn't give a shit about that, they were welcome to him, but all the men seemed to like him as well. He'd sort him though, that was for sure. He just hadn't figured out how yet, that was all. What a stroke of luck he'd had the other day though, he thought chuckling to himself. Ford had sweated his bollocks off unloading that Hardman’s delivery, but at the exact moment he'd chosen to take a breather Jessop had walked through to catch him sat on his ass. Not only that but, quick as a flash, he’d jumped to it, and it looked as though he was the one doing all the work. But it hadn't been luck had it. He knew the sound of everyone's footsteps who worked at that mill, well everyone who mattered anyway. He was a smart cookie, and that's the reason why he'd dump good and honest hillbilly Ford on his backside once and for all. Harry Jacob's job was his, and no-one was going to take it off him especially not some dumb ass hole like Tom Ford.

  His promotion was bound to impress Christine from accounts. The mere thought of her made him begin to feel hard. The way those tits of hers jiggled when she walked, and that tight little ass. He shifted in his seat, he could imagine her red lips giving him a luxurious blow job, her long blonde hair caressing his naked thighs. He decided to pay a visit to the gents.

  7

  Jack arrived at ten to eight on his first official day of working full time for Mr John Jessop. Having put his bicycle in the bike shed, he made his way back up the gravel path to the front door. In a couple of strides, he'd mounted the stone steps, he lifted the heavy door knocker and brought it down a couple of times.

  The door opened and it was Sam who greeted him; "Ay-ah Jack, come on in."

  "Hi Sam, how are you, all set for college?" he said pleased to see her.

  She looked back at him over her shoulder, raised her left hand and tilted it from side to side. "Sort of," she said crinkling up her nose. She put her hand on her tummy; "I keep getting butterflies, I'm sure I'll be okay though, I'll just feel better in a few weeks’ time when I've settled in." she disappeared into the lounge. "Come through." she called back to him.

  Jack entered the room and was met by Jessop, who he thought looked quite different dressed in jeans and a jumper.

  "Good Morning Jack, I hope you are well." Jessop said cradling a cup of coffee and smiling his Carry Grant smile which somehow didn't seem to have the same impact without the sharp suit to compliment it.

  "Yes, I'm very well, thanks, Mr Jessop."

  "Can I get you anything, a cup of coffee, a fruit juice, maybe?"

  "I'll have an orange juice, please."

  "Sam, go and get Jack an orange juice, and then come and join us in my study, if you would."

  "Okay, dad."

  "Come on Jack, let's get to it. We've got loads to get through this morning, and I've got to be away by twelve at the latest."

  Jack followed Jessop to his study.

  "Don't worry though," Jessop said good naturedly, "we're going to break you in gently. Sam doesn't start college until next week, and she'll be home at weekends, and you've got me to call upon." Jessop fixed Jack with his eyes; "I'm not going to mislead you though Jack, this position comes with a lot of responsibility. Do you think you can handle it?"

  Jack paused before answering, he knew that whatever the job entailed, Jessop already thought that he could handle it. And modesty aside, he knew he was extremely bright for his age. His only concern was Ted Jackson, but if he was going to make a success of his life, he'd have to learn to deal with the Ted Jackson's of this world, besides in fairness to Jackson, he'd never gone out of his way to be awkward with him, not yet anyway. "I know I can handle it sir."

  "Good, then let's get on with it then." Jessop said rubbing his hands together enthusiastically.

  Sam knocked on the door before entering with Jack's orange juice. "Here you are Jack; I've put some ice in it for you."

  "Thanks." Jack said taking the drink from her. The ice made plinking noises against the side of the glass. He took a sip and then looked around for somewhere to place it.

  "Here Jack, put it on this." Jessop said removing a silver coaster from a stack on the corner of his desk.

  Jack placed the drink carefully on the coaster.

  Jessop unlocked one of the drawers in his desk and took out a set of leather-bound books. He took one and pushed the others to one side. "Come around here Jack. Sam get Jack a chair and fetch one for yourself."

  "Okay, dad." she said raising her eyes at Jack.

  "Do you want a hand?"

  "No, she's fine." Jessop answered for her. Jack, you come around here. Right, this is the main accounts book for the whole estate. We call it the bible, and all these other books relate to it. The bible must balance. There's only one rule to your job, Jack …"

  Jack had heard Jessop use this expression several times before, and he got the distinct impression that there would probably be many 'only one rules' that he would have to adhere to.

  "and that is, you don't finish work until the bible balances."

  Sam returned carrying two chairs professionally stacked, seat against seat.

  "Isn't that right Sam?"

  "Yes dad, that's the rule." She confirmed with a look of resignation on her face.

  "And what's the record, Sam?"

  Jack and Sam sat down.

  "TWO A.M. Dad!"

  "God, what a night that was. I didn't balance it myself until eleven."

  Sam silently mouthed the 'until eleven' part.

  Jack stifled a giggle.

  "We had tears at midnight, tantrums at one ..."

  "Dad, stop it, please. You're embarrassing me."

  Jack felt a little embarrassed for her, but Jessop paid no heed to his daughter's protestations.

  "In fairness to her though, she found it eventually." Jessop continued nodding at Jack to substantiate the fact. "And, what do we do now Sam?"

  "Always double check the receipts." They said in unison.

  "The bible has a brother." Jessop said, tapping the side of his nose with his forefinger. In fact, all of these books do. No Tax Inspector is going to get fat at my expense Jack, that's for sure. They have a good enough ride on my back as it is." Jessop paused and fixed Jack with that stare of his again.

  Jack felt a little bit like he imagined a butterfly must feel like when it’s pinned to a card.

  "I know I don't have to say this to you Jack because you're a bright lad, but I'm going to say it to you anyway. We're placing a lot of trust in you,"

  Jack nodded.

  "so, anything you see or hear in this house, stays in this house, okay?"

  "Yes, Mr Jessop, you have my word. I promise not to discuss anything that goes on here with another soul." Jack felt as though Jessop was examining every detail on his face, studying every inch.

  "Good lad Jack." Jessop said, a smile returning to his face.

  By lunchtime Jack's head was throbbing, he'd never seen so many figures, or done as many calculations and counter calculations in his whole life. He did not feel half as confident of his ability to do the job as he had at eight o'clock that morning. In fact, he had visions of the two-a.m. record being smashed into oblivion.

  "Okay Jack, I'll have to get going now." Jessop said, glancing at his watch. You may have to work a little later tonight; you've got four hours to catch up!"

  "That's fine Mr Jessop. Thanks for spending the time with me."

  "Investing the time Jack, there's a big difference."

  Jack smiled up at Jessop.

  "Oh, by the way Sam, I've instructed Molly that part of her duties this afternoon is to chaperone you and Jack."

  "Dad!"

  "Never mind Dad! I wasn't born yesterday, you know."

  Sam's face hade turned slightly pink, but Jessops caution was unnecessary as far as Jack was concerned. He had far too much on his mind to even contemplate flirting with his daughter.

  "Oh, I've been meaning to ask you for a while Jack. How did you get that scar o
n your forearm?" Jessop enquired.

  Jack was jolted out of his thoughts. "I caught myself on a barbed-wire fence years ago." he said examining the old wound.

  "Is that how Tom Ford got his as well?"

  Before Jack had time to answer, Jessop continued, "Like I said Jack, we're placing a lot of trust in you. I might see you later on ... Oh, I almost forgot to share the good news with you both. Whatever savings you make Jack, You, Sam, and Ted get to share twenty percent of them. That is as long as your budgeting doesn't include anything too radical, like disconnecting the electricity, for instance."

  Jack couldn't believe it, on top of his sixty pounds a week he was going to get a piece of the action as well. Suddenly, he realised that his mouth had gaped open.

  Sam had realised it to, and gently raised it with her index finger. "You'll catch flies like that Jack." she said smiling.

  "What have I told you before Jack Davies?" Jessop mock reprimanded his new protégé "Never show surprise. Always act as though what you hear is exactly what you expected to hear, okay?"

  "Yes, I'm sorry Mr Jessop, it won't happen again." Jack said in all seriousness.

  "Good lad, I'm off, I'm going to be late." He said tipping Jack a wink.

  Jessop smiled to himself as he gunned the engine of his Jaguar. That look of annoyance on the lad's face, when he realised, he'd caught him out again. He supposed he couldn't blame him though; it wasn't every day he invited the staff to join in a profit-sharing scheme. He'd dreamt it up predominantly to grease the wheels with Old Ted, he imagined Ted would be far more likely to co-operate with the young pup, if he thought by doing so, he would profit out of it. And if that didn't persuade him to tow the line plan b was simple; he'd be down the road. Site foremen, as good as Ted was, were ten a penny, but this boy, he was special.

  "I hope I don't keep you too long," Jack said looking worriedly at Sam, "what, with us being half a day behind already."

  "I did it all yesterday." she said with a smile, "Dad knows too, he was just trying to psyche you out, gauge your reaction to the possibility of having to work late on your first day, that's all. You'll get to know how he ticks soon enough."