by David Woods
“What can I do for you?”
“I’ve come to see Mr. Garry Osborne.”
“Have you got an appointment?”
“No, but he’ll see me.”
“We’ll see. What name is it, please?”
“Grainger. Jim Grainger.”
She rang through to Garry, and when Jim moved closer he heard the reply as she quickly moved the receiver away from her ear. It must have been painful as he shouted down the telephone at her. “I don’t see murderers. Tell him to get off my premises or I’ll call the police.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
He had two slices of toast whilst she read on, and then she put the paper in front of him. “I don’t know why you’re so upset, you ought to be delighted. They have at last caught your parents’ real killers.”
Garry just grunted and sipped his tea.
She looked at his thin face, wondering how long his body would put up with so much abuse and spoke softly. “You’ll have to look after yourself a lot better or you won’t make old bones.”
He just nodded weakly and stared at the paper.
Jane continued, “Now you can stop blaming Grainger for killing your mother and father.”
The mention of that name made beads of sweat appear on his forehead, which he mopped with a handkerchief, and after another cup of tea he left for work without saying a word. His day dragged by slowly as he tried to concentrate and get involved with business, but his mind kept wandering. The next day was not much better until late afternoon, when he was trying to think of a different method of beating Grainger. He decided his own great strength was as a businessman, so why not go into house building on a grand scale and beat Grainger Construction at its own game.
That evening, after eating his first square meal for days, he put the idea to Jane, who eyed him suspiciously. “Why houses now and not before?” she asked.
“Because the market is expanding faster than our usual civil engineering projects.”
“I see. Are you sure it’s not for some other reason?”
“The only other reason I can think of is profit. The potential is far greater.”
“Fair enough, but do a proper study first.”
“I intend to.”
“Perhaps a new challenge will take your mind off other things.”
The next few days went quickly for Garry as he was fired with a new enthusiasm. He studied the house market until late each night, getting excited about the new venture.
* * *
Jane went to the farm at the weekend, leaving Garry working at home. Having taken over Garry’s position agreeing capital expenditure, she spent all day looking at the animals and travelling around with Peter French, who appreciated her intereste in the activities and crops. In the evening she stayed with Angela at Home Farm. Young William enjoyed his days on the farm and took particular interest in the calves, especially at feeding time when he helped mix the calf milk, a powder and warm water mixture stirred with a wire whisk. He preferred to use his hands and invariably got plastered.
Angela looked forward to the weekends as it broke the monotony of the usual daily routine which was becoming very tiring, with only a short time before the birth of her child. Jane had never mentioned Jim Grainger, knowing about the past and worried as to how her sister-in-law would react. Angela was relaxing after the evening meal and remarked casually: “Did you see what it said about Manor Farm in the papers the other day?”
“Yes. What a good thing they’ve caught them at last.”
“I agree. And perhaps Jim Grainger won’t get blamed any more. He was very badly treated over that murder at his building site.”
“Yes. Just because he had a record, Garry was convinced he was guilty of all the murders.”
Angela felt angry and tears came to her eyes. When Jane saw her face, she changed the subject quickly.
* * *
A month after Jim’s visit to his office, Garry had purchased his first residential building land. He had appointed a marketing company to project his company’s new image as a high quality house builder, and all the staff at Blakesbuild were pleased they were heading in a new direction and expanding. Garry kept his mind fully occupied with this new venture and managed to eat proper meals again, although he still drank several brandies a day. Jane became involved with the company’s affairs again, and was particularly interested in the design of the new houses. Their home life was friendly although not intimate, occupying separate rooms and never visiting each other’s, but their social life improved with the couple always appearing to be happy.
Garry and Jane were godparents to Angela’s baby girl at a grand christening ceremony followed by a large party at Home Farm. They were determined to make up for the rather dull wedding reception and everyone had a good time. Garry tried to stop himself drinking too much and succeeded for a while, but eventually the temptation was too great. He found a bottle of whisky which he had hidden behind a chair, so that he could top up his glass when Jane was not looking. For the first time in his life the drink did not make him aggressive but had the affect of making him merry and randy. He kissed Jane every time she came near and hugged the other ladies — in fact it was the most enjoyable evening he had ever experienced, and he was sad when it was over.
* * *
Six months after buying his first site Garry held a party to celebrate the opening of his new show house, which was reported in the local newspapers. Customers and sightseers flocked to view the new up-market properties. A temporary sales office was built and buyers were keen to pay deposits to secure the best positions on the site. Garry was overjoyed and looking forward to counting the profits.
After the initial flurry of activity the building programme slowed down due to very wet weather, and as time passed, the buyers started getting angry, with some demanding their money back. Garry became very worried and chased the building workers hard. He visited each of the buyers to assure them progress would improve, which just stopped them from pulling out, but when the weather did get better the project was completed three months late. The costs were much higher than anticipated, and left the company in a break-even situation.
Jane demanded to see the costings and when she discussed their future strategy with her husband, she spoke with a new air of authority. “These figures are not good enough,”
“I agree, but it was our first try at houses.”
“We’d have been better off with a new school or factory.”
“Yes we would. But the experience will be useful for the future.”
“So you want to carry on building houses?”
“Yes of course I do. Our next site is ready to start.”
Jane gave him a suspicious look. “You only want to build houses to beat Grainger, don’t you?”
Garry shuddered at the mention of his name and shouted, “Don’t bring that bastard into it. He has nothing to do with our plans.”
“No need to go mad. If you think we can improve our profit with the next project, I agree to go ahead.”
From that day on Garry spent half his time in the office and the other half looking for the best sites in the south east, negotiating options to purchase while Jane did most of his paperwork. All the time his major ambition was to squeeze Grainger out of the property business. After six months, he had a string of large sites waiting to be developed. His bankers were impressed by his progress and professional approach, and were prepared to advance large amounts of money for expansion.
* * *
After Jim drove away from the Blakesbuild offices, he made up his mind to concentrate all his efforts on his construction company, and went back to his old habit of working sixteen hours a day. Oliver agreed to stay permanently and became the financial director, his expertise at negotiating financial packages with bankers a major asset, which enabled the company to expand at a tremendous rate. Planning permission was soon obtained for the field Jim bought at an agricultural price and, when the development was finished, showed a huge profit.
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Although Jim had became very wealthy, he had no time to spend the money and still lived in the little terraced house. The only luxury he allowed himself was a new Jaguar, which he enjoyed driving when looking for new sites. This was becoming a major problem and threatened to halt his expansion. The answer was to go further afield, a policy which worked for a while but added to his costs and lowered profits.
Oliver soon grew tired of working in a wooden site building and put forward the case for a permanent headquarters. Jim agreed reluctantly. Fearing rising costs, he found a run down industrial site in a town central to the area where he wanted to operate. The old disused factory had an office block at the front and a large warehouse at the rear, which fitted in well with his plans, and he set to work renovating the offices. The warehouse was converted to a joinery workshop and stores, enabling timber and other supplies to be purchased at favourable bulk rates.
Jim was pleased to move into his own large office where he could work in peace, but the problem of building sites was worrying. He wondered why most of the best sites were snapped up before he could find them. Research revealed it was Blakesbuild causing the problem, convincing the owners to sign an “option to purchase” agreement. Jim added up all the sites he had lost and found they were in Kent, Sussex and Surrey, but far too many for one company even as large as Blakesbuild to develop.
He wondered what would happen when the time period ran out and they had to buy or pay a penalty, depending on the agreement, and he was still pondering this subject as he looked at a development site only ten miles away in an expanding village. He had just managed to secure the deal, when a man bumped into him as he was leaving the offices of an estate agent. The man staggered backwards and Jim grinned when he saw who it was. “Hello, Osborne. You’re too late this time,” he said cheerfully.
“Grainger! What the hell are you doing here?”
“I’ve just bought the site you’re after.”
“So I’m too late this time.”
“Yes. What d’you want another site for? You’ve too many to develop now.”
“I can always sell them.”
“That’s fine until the price drops.”
“It won’t.”
“Well, if you get stuck with sites you don’t want, ring me.”
“Ring you! That’s the last thing I’ll do.”
“I see. So it’s as I suspected. You’re just tying up these deals to shut me out.”
“Rubbish. My firm could eat yours for breakfast.”
“We’ll see.”
Jim walked off feeling angry that Osborne still hated him, despite being saved from a murder charge. He thought about his next move and considered telling the police he had just discovered who tried to have him killed, but the reason he did not tell them in the first place was still valid so he dropped the idea, deciding to fight back in a different way. He devoted all his efforts to finding building sites, staying in Hampshire for weeks at a time. This strategy paid off because it resulted in securing enough sites to continue the expansion.
Work occupied Jim’s mind day and night. Weekends were the same, as living on his own made matters worse, with no conversation to divert his attention to leisure activities. This situation continued until one day when he was in town visiting the bank. Having arrived too early for an appointment, he sat in a spacious waiting room area watching the customers coming in, when a girl with a pushchair caught his eye.
She looked familiar. When he realised it was Angela his heart missed a beat and he wanted to get up and hug her, but stopped himself because she was obviously happily married with a child. He watched her every movement as she floated gracefully towards the counter, her hair still as beautiful as he remembered it but longer and reaching her shoulders. She turned, clutching a handbag and putting papers inside. Having closed the bag, she looked around the bank’s interior, giving Jim a fleeting glance before returning to the pushchair. He was disappointed that she did not recognise him, but then it occurred to him he had a beard and long hair the last time she saw him. Glancing at the child in the chair he noticed she had dark curly hair just like her mother’s, and he wanted to go and talk to them both, but his thoughts were interrupted by a voice beside him.
“Mr. Grainger. The manager is free now.”
The following Sunday Jim went out into the country instead of driving to his office, and parked in a field entrance opposite a familiar footpath. He walked for half an hour through fields where he had once walked years ago and which were grass then, but had since been ploughed and sown with wheat.
The path went close to Home Farm house, with only a small grass field and a hedge between, and he studied the house through a gap. It had obviously been restored and he admired it. He noticed hay and straw in the barn but no animals and, when a person came from behind the house and walked into the small field, he was surprised and delighted when he saw it was Angela. She called out a name and stared across the field away from where he stood. A thundering of hooves and a shrill whinny reached his ears before Gemma came into view. As he watched Angela give the horse a titbit from her pocket, fond memories came flooding back, bringing tears to his eyes and a lump to his throat. How he wished he could turn the clock back; now he could only watch and wonder what life would have been like married to her. His thoughts were interrupted by the appearance of a man who walked up to the horse and patted its neck, but Gemma turned away and looked across the field to where Jim was standing concealed behind a hedge.
A breeze rustled the leaves in the hedge, sending Jim’s scent across to the horse, and she pricked up her ears, whinnied and trotted away from Angela. Jim saw her coming straight at him and hid behind a thick blackthorn bush, while Gemma stood on the other side whinnying and stamping her feet. He walked quickly along the footpath in case Angela investigated the cause of her horse’s interest, but Gemma followed on the other side of the hedge for about one hundred and fifty yards. When a gap in the hedge came into view, Jim stopped as Gemma turned and thrust her head through, and both animal and man stared at each other for a second. Then Gemma whinnied softly as he approached, hugged her big warm head and rubbed behind her ears. She nuzzled up to his face and pressed her soft muzzle into his cheeks, blowing out hot breath. The smell and feel of the affectionate horse made him want to cry out with delight, but instead he talked softly telling her how beautiful she was. He thought she seemed to understand and whinnied in reply, and he stroked her gently, talking for about ten minutes until a voice from behind the hedge called out.
“Gemma, what are you doing?”
It was Angela’s voice. Jim wanted to stay and talk but feared she might feel upset at seeing him and be reminded of the painful past. Anyway he was still convinced she would not want to speak to an ex-con, so he moved away quickly and quietly rather than be hurt by a rebuff. He ran down the footpath which skirted around the next field, and heard Gemma whinny loudly as Angela tried to see through the thick bushes. She could only see the outline of a big man moving quickly away, and spent the next ten minutes trying to get Gemma to reverse out of the gap. When she finally walked backwards Angela spoke as she held her head collar. “I haven’t seen you like that for years. It was him, wasn’t it?” The horse blinked a sad-looking eye which had been scratched by a twig in the hedge, and Angela rubbed her eyelid and led her away.
Angela ached to see Jim again but feared he did not want to see her, and if he did not want to meet her it would be better to try and forget him again. She sighed and felt sick inside, realising how close she had been to talking to him.
Mark saw his wife’s sad expression as she passed. “What’s the matter, dear?”
“I’m fine, but Gemma’s hurt her eye.”
Jim carried on walking and thinking about Angela, delighted to have seen her again, but it only made him want her even more. He made his way to his car via a different route.
Every Sunday he found a different footpath through the country, but none near Home Farm, as he wanted to
enjoy the countryside without tearing himself apart seeing Angela. Each peaceful walk made him realise how much he missed the open air, the trees, the different landscapes and the animals.
Oliver came into Jim’s office with a package in his hand. “Look at this, Jim. We’ve been invited to tender for a big factory on the south coast of Sussex.”
“It’s not really our sort of job.”
“No, but it’s worth looking at.”
“Just leave it with me.” He studied the plans and specification very carefully for most of the day, and then rang the surveyor in charge to arrange a meeting on site. He said he had another meeting the same afternoon, so Jim rang his secretary to find out who it was he was meeting.
The meeting did not take long, as the site was a flat field which had wheat grown on it the previous year, and he spent all morning looking at the soil. He got down into a ditch and dug up soil from the bottom with a spade. The site was big and he walked all around it, examining the type of grasses growing in patches. He saw a tractor ploughing in the next field, so he jumped over the fence and talked to the driver for some time. After that he walked up and down the centre of the field staring at the ground, staying until the afternoon when the surveyor returned to meet the next contractor. Jim watched the two men walk around the site chatting and, when the surveyor had driven off, he walked from his hiding place behind a tree and just caught up with the contractor before he drove away. He spoke first. “Hello, Osborne. Nice site, isn’t it?”
“Grainger! Don’t tell me you’re tendering?”
“Of course I am.”
“But it isn’t your sort of business.”
“It is now. And what’s more I’m going all out to get it.”
“Stick to houses or you’ll get your fingers burnt.”
“I can’t resist this job. After all it’s a perfect flat site, good roads and services nearby.”
“You don’t stand a chance.”
“Why not? You muscled in on my business, so I’m going in for big civil engineering jobs. This is just the first.”
