by Michael Ross
“Yes, guaranteed. Deal?”
“Deal it is.”
This is more like it. My stars for the month said I was heading for a rocky period. Yeah right—rock on!
***
“Still not answering his calls or returning your messages?”
“Mm, who?”
“JESS!”
“No, not a thing. I’ve put him to the back of my mind.”
“Jess.”
“Yes?”
“You haven’t put on any make-up yet this morning, and the buttons on your blouse are done up out of order. Get a grip, girl. He’ll call—I guarantee it.”
Chapter
Thirty-Three
“Morning, Chan. How are things today?”
“So-so, Danny.”
She sounds pretty low to me.
“Derek a bit low, is he?”
“You could say that. I’ve told him not to worry about the money—we’ll get through.”
“He spends a bit of time away from home, doesn’t he? I mean you are used to him being away from home, aren’t you?”
“Yes, why?”
“Doesn’t matter—put him on the phone.”
She carries the phone upstairs.
“Hi, Danny.”
He is feeling down, so I get straight to the point. “Hi, Derek. I’ve got a job for you. Trouble is, it’s only for the next six weeks.”
“Thanks, Danny, but I don’t want any charity.”
“Derek, this is anything but charity. I need your help or I am in the shit.”
As I said, Derek is a proud man, and the fact that it is the truth is going to work in my favour. I give him the background to the problems at the site and my conversation with Edwin Pedlar.
“It will be for six days a week. We will put you up in a local hotel and pay you four hundred pounds a week to supervise the site.”
“Four hundred pounds a week?”
“I’m sorry, Derek, that’s all there is in the kitty.”
“No, no. The money is more than generous. I don’t earn that most weeks when I’m working flat out. When would I start?”
“Next Monday. I would pick you up and bring you straight to the site.”
“That sounds fantastic.”
“You’re doing me a favour.” There is not much more to discuss, so I end the conversation. I ring Edwin’s number and leave a message. He calls me back later.
“I’ve got the supervisor sorted; he’s my brother-in-law. He is one hundred percent reliable. Well, other than that he has a broken ankle.” I throw a light-hearted laugh down the phone.
“That’s no good, Danny. He needs to be mobile on a site that is over an acre in size.”
Of course he does!
“How about if he was in a wheelchair?”
“Yes, I suppose so—but he must be mobile.”
“Okay, no problem.” Not okay—big problem.
I ring Chan again, and she starts to thank me before I can say a word.
“Oh, Danny, you are so wonderful. You’ve sorted out all our problems in one go.”
“Mm, not quite, Chan. I am sure you are going to have your work cut out, but you need to go and convince Derek he has to use a wheelchair.”
Absolute silence. A pin dropping would shatter my eardrums.
“Wait there, Danny.” I hold on the line, trying to picture the scene upstairs. My sister is a force of nature, but her husband is one hell of a proud, stubborn brute. There is a lengthy delay and it sounds like they are having a lively debate before Chan comes back on the phone.
“Hi, Danny, sorry to keep you. Yes, no problem at all. I will collect a wheelchair from the hospital today and Derek can get some practice in before next week.”
No problem at all. I bet not.
“Good girl. See you next Monday.”
“Okay, Daniel. Oh, by the way, how is—”
I’ve put the phone down. Things to do, things to do.
It takes me twenty minutes to find my mobile phone and somewhere to plug in the charger. The security people are only contracted for night time hours, so I have the place to myself, and within minutes I have dozed off.
When I wake up, I check my watch and register the fact that I have slept for nearly two hours. I check that my phone is fully charged, turn it on and head for the toilet. I have hardly time to finish my ablutions before the phone starts ringing. Probably loads of voice mails. Oh, the rich and famous.
“Hello, Mr. Pearson.”
Oh, a real person, but I do not quite recognise the voice.
“Bill Collins here.”
Bill Collins, who the hell is Bill Collins?
“Mm, yes?”
“This is Bill here…from Cotswold Lodge.” BILL! Bill from Cotswold Lodge.
“Why hello, Bill. My mind was off with the fairies. How are you today?”
“I am very well. Thank you for asking.”
“What can I do for you, Bill?” My stars are all aligned; not for a nanosecond do I think there is a problem.
“Everything has been agreed with Lord Brabham. Your references passed and you can move into Cotswold Lodge on Saturday.”
“Saturday. This Saturday. How can you move out so quickly?”
“Oh, we will be moved out by tomorrow night. I just need a day or so to spruce up the Lodge back to its former glory. In truthfulness, I cannot wait to move back in with Mary. She is only a few hundred yards away, but I don’t sleep well unless she is by my side.”
JESS! What—where am I? Jess had gone from my mind. I’m going crazy. Jess, how could I forget about Jess? I am ashamed. How shallow must I be?
“Mr. Pearson?”
“Sorry, Bill. Someone was trying to say something to me. Saturday, I can move in Saturday. That is the most wonderful news. I won’t have much furniture, but I am so excited I would move in with just an orange box if I could.”
“Look after the lodge for us, Mr. Pearson.”
“Danny, please call me Danny. I want to think of you as a friend, so you must call me Danny.”
“Fair enough, Danny. Hopefully I will see you on Saturday.”
“You will, Bill. You will.”
I throw the phone down and run to the car. I need Stan’s help. I type in florist and there is one shop locally, about six or seven miles away. I pass the hotel and make a note to drop in on my way back. It is a shop with a very small frontage, but the smell when I walk through the door lifts my spirits. A lady in her fifties walks through from the back of the shop.
“Hi. I need to send a bouquet to someone and it needs to be there within the next two hours.”
She waits for me to continue.
I might never see her again as long as I live, so she may as well have the whole story. I tell her exactly what I have—and more importantly, have not—done.
“And how much do you want to spend?”
“Oh, I don’t care, whatever it costs.”
The look on her face is withering.
“Of course it matters how much it costs. It sounds like the girl is better off without you, if you don’t mind my saying.”
I do not take the slightest exception at what she says. She is so right. How can I have any feelings for the girl if I just say bang anything together—that will do? Sometimes I do not like me.
“You are so right. Shall we start again?”
“Yes. I take it you have an address?” I give it to her. “That’s almost twenty miles away. My van will be back fairly soon. It will be twenty-five pounds for delivery.”
I nod. If I speak, we might have to start all over again.
“Would you like to help me pick out the flowers?”
“Actually, I would. Any guidance you can give me would be greatly appreciated.”
Ten minutes later she has thawed and I feel quite buddy-buddy with her.
“Actually, I move into a new house on Saturday.” I tell her the address.
“Is that the lovely little hobbit house?”
“Yes, it is. How do
you know it?”
“I think everyone locally would know it, but a few years ago I passed by there and recognised Mary Collins sitting in the front garden. She used to be my English teacher at secondary school.”
“It’s a small world.”
“It is a small world—delivery to there will be sixteen pounds.”
I like her. No-nonsense on the surface, but as soft as butter underneath.
“How about I give you forty pounds and you surprise me.”
She glowers at me, but I can tell she likes the idea.
“I suppose so.”
“Any time after eleven-thirty. Thank you very much.” I start to walk out the shop door. “I hope to see you again in the near future.”
“Pardon me?” She is looking most vexed.
“Sorry, have I forgotten something? I have paid you, haven’t I?”
She turns her face to the heavens.
“I have had to stand here and listen to you wax lyrical about this ‘girl of your dreams’ who you ‘cannot live without,’ and you are sending her an anonymous bunch of flowers with no card, no apology—nothing. The girl is most definitely far better off without you. Wait there a second and I will refund your money.” She is making fun of me, but yet again she is absolutely right.
“Can I have a card, please, and a pen?”
“I am not writing it for you, if that’s what your next question is.”
The world seems to be full of funny people. I think very carefully and it is not until the third card that I am happy with the wording.
“Do you want to check it?” I ask her. She looks horrified, then smiles when she realises that I have nearly caught her out at her own game.
As I leave the shop, I give her a quick peck on the cheek and throw her a grin.
“Wish me luck.”
“Wish you luck? I wish the poor girl luck!”
Right, I am getting back on track. One more job before I get back to the unit. So I divert my return route to include a visit to the hotel. There is a young girl at reception.
“Could I speak to Oliver, please?” I ask.
“He’s on duty somewhere. I will put a call out for him.”
It takes a while, but he eventually makes it to the reception desk.
“Oliver, I wanted to thank you for your kindness today.”
“That was no problem, sir.”
What a nice man.
“I’d like a room next Monday for a six-week period.”
“For yourself, sir?”
I feel quite the man about town when I reply.
“No. For an employee.” I give him the name of our company and the fax number for Head Office. “Send through an invoice and it will be ratified immediately.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“No problem whatsoever. Now one more thing. I need a room, somewhere locally, for the next four nights. Is there anywhere you can recommend?”
“Bear with me, sir.” He moves over to a PC console. “A lady and gentleman withdrew from the conference this afternoon; a domestic matter, I believe. You are more than welcome to stay with us for four nights.”
“Oliver, you are my hero. Is the room vacant now?”
“It will be, sir.”
“Could I check in now? I am desperate for a shower.”
“That’s not for me to say, sir. But of course you are more than welcome.”
As camp as a Christmas tree, with a dry sense of humour. I like him big time.
It is a standard twin-bed room, but fresh and clean with the best shower I have washed under for many a month. I climb out of the shower, dry off, lie on the bed, and…
***
Jess drops the phone onto her lap and Gemma, walking through her boss’s office door, pretends she has not noticed.
“I’m thinking of calling it a day a bit earlier today, Gemma.”
“That’s no problem. You’re due for a meeting with Hutchinson in ten minutes and then you are clear for the rest of the day.”
“Hutchinson?” Jess blows out through her teeth.
“Go on, he’s not that bad. I will organise a taxi for twenty minutes’ time, and then you will have a ready-made excuse to get away.”
“Thanks, Gemma.”
Twenty minutes later Jess is back in her office, but Gemma has disappeared. Jess grabs her briefcase and is about to leave when Gemma rushes back into the room.
“Oh, I’m glad I caught you.”
“Only just.”
“Its…well, I’ve been thinking and I don’t know how to say it, but I think you should forget all about that Danny Pearson. Any man who can just walk away and ignore you is not worth bothering with.”
Jess nods slightly and makes a face in agreement.
Gemma continues, “I mean for heaven’s sake, the man couldn’t even bother to send you some flowers and an apology.”
“Oh, I’m not interested in flowers.”
“Really? Oh well, then.” With that Gemma turns around and runs out of the room. She comes back in carrying a beautiful bouquet of flowers and passes a card to Jess. “Tar-ah!”
“Have you read the card?”
“NO! But it must be him, unless there is something that your personal assistant knows nothing about. And anyway, the handwriting suits his personality.”
“Are you sure you haven’t read it?”
“Jess, I would never do that!”
Jess opens up the envelope and takes out the card.
To my sweetest Jessica,
This last weekend was the best of my life. I am sorry about disappearing, but I am here for you—forever.
All my love, Daniel xxx
Chapter
Thirty-Four
“Morning, Danny. You’re in nice and early.”
“Good morning, Buck. Yes, plenty to keep me busy at the moment. How can I help you?”
“Well, first things first. I have to say I am mighty impressed at how you have managed to get matters rolling down there. Well done.”
“Thank you, Buck.”
“I’ve been passed the paperwork for the building work contract. Are you happy these people won’t let us down?”
“As happy as I can be in the circumstances. Why? Is there a problem?”
“No, not at all. I have never come across these people before, so we’ve done a double check on their background and they appear to a family business of considerable merit.”
Oh. Am I in trouble for not verifying the substance of Edwin Pedlar and Sons? Is Buck expecting some sort of comment from me? My lips stay sealed, so Buck carries on.
“The contract has had to be modified due to the circumstances, so we will be paying them monthly in arrears to the invoices they raise, which will have to be countersigned by you. But going through their accounts, I don’t think cash flow will be any great problem for them.”
“They’re strong financially?”
“Very strong, Danny. You’ve done well in digging them out.”
More a case of first come, first served, but there is no way I’m confessing to that.
“So we’ll courier the contracts down to you. We need them signed and back with us by Monday, then it’s all down to you to keep on top of them.”
Very subtle, Buck, but I get your point. “Fair enough. I’ll arrange to meet them tomorrow, so we’ll all know that there is a commitment.”
“Good man, Danny. I’m off to Chicago now. I’ll be back in the UK in about ten days—you will be my first call when I come back.”
Buck has such a gentle way of issuing threats. I pick up the phone and ring Edwin Pedlar.
“Hi, Ed. I will have the contracts with me tomorrow. Can we meet up to sign them tomorrow?”
“Hi, Danny. Sorry, I’m away all day tomorrow and Friday. I have a funeral and related business.”
That much time—for a funeral. Oh dear, is he backing out of the deal? My stock within the company is about to drop through the floor.
“I’m sorry about that. Any
one close to you?”
“Very close. Very, very close. My uncle John, my father’s younger brother. I was very close to him. He was a good man, the best.”
“I’m so sorry to hear that. Just let me know when is convenient. I wouldn’t normally bother, but my Head Office would like to know I’ve buttoned things up as soon as possible.”
“Of course, I get that. I tell you what. I will have to attend the wake, but that’s not my thing. Where are you tomorrow night?”
“I’m staying at the hotel.”
“Let me think…that could work out well. Oliver will be at the services the same as me. I’m sure he will want to get away in the early evening. I could drop him back and meet up with you. Say sevenish?”
“That would be perfect if it’s not too much trouble.”
“No, it suits me perfectly.”
That Oliver certainly gets around.
***
“JB, Paul Clement’s secretary is on the phone.”
Jess is unhappy that he has decided to call on the very afternoon that she has granted Gemma a few hours off from work. Her PA gives her the extra edge of confidence at times, and any conversation with Paul Clement will always be one of those times.
“JB.”
“Mr. Clement.” Pathetic really, and if she had been granted time to start again she would not have made such a childish effort at putting space between them.
“Whatever, JB. Anyway, down to business. The board has called for an executive meeting for next Tuesday for all European affiliates. The conference will run for three days, so if you could arrange for a Monday evening flight to Paris with a return to England on Thursday evening. I have organised a room for you at the St George.”
“Is that all?”
“For the moment, yes, but I would like to take the opportunity to clear up our…misunderstanding from last year, when you are here.”
“Of course. I will see you on Tuesday. Good day.” She could not put the phone down quick enough.
***
“Hi, Chan. How are things today? You sound breathless.”
Whoops, Jeremiah is back at school. It’s eleven in the morning with no work to go to. I smile to myself and decide not to bypass the chance of embarrassing my sister, although she tries to cover her tracks.
