Radical Reaction

by Dawn Marsanne

  There had also been an issue in his private life which made him keen to make a fresh start. A liaison with a nurse in the clinical unit was threatening to get out of hand and he decided it was best to put temptation out of his reach. At the same time, his wife was finding her workplace unpleasant and had been happy to move to a legal practice in Persford. The two combined factors had given them the incentive to move and they had received help with the cost of relocation.

  He headed for the fridge and took out a bottle of lager. The house felt hot so he opened two windows in the kitchen and went through the French doors to sit outside on the patio. The back garden matched the smaller front one in its unruliness. He wasn’t used to looking after such a large expanse of greenery and it would mean that he would have to spend most of the weekend trying to get it under control, accompanied by at least one trip to the tip with the waste. The recent heavy showers had spurred the weeds to grow with vitality and in places, they were now overtaking the bedding plants. At this rate, they might have to consider employing a gardener. As usual, his wife wasn’t back home and he’d lost track of which of his children’s after-school activities took place on which day of the week.

  His day at work had been difficult and depressing and he felt the beginnings of a headache niggling above his right eye. Hopefully, if he could unwind he wouldn’t need to resort to painkillers. Early that morning he’d been faced by a delegation of staff demanding to know how secure their jobs were. Rumours had been circulating that ClinTry could be vulnerable to being sold off by the parent company. Thus, he’d called a meeting to reassure all staff that head office hadn’t given any indication that they were in serious trouble. He pointed out some improvements in their balance sheet and that had seemed to alleviate some of the concerns.

  The pharmaceutical companies were always trying to drive down the costs of drug development and naturally, they were trying to reduce the amounts they paid to the clinical units. Patient volunteers were still paid generously otherwise there wouldn’t be the required uptake.

  Bryony’s husband, Duncan was on a ladder cutting back the hedges along the adjoining fence. He waved at Christian who wandered over to him.

  ‘You can come around here and do mine when you’ve finished,’ he said.

  ‘No problem, I’m expensive though!’ he joked.

  ‘I’ll be doing the same as you this weekend,’ said Christian. As you can see the shrubs over there are pushing the fence over.’

  ‘Oh, dear, Yes, they are getting a bit out of hand.’

  ‘That is my fence, isn’t it? The one along the bottom there?’

  ‘Yes, I’m afraid so. It looks like you might have to have some new panels.’

  ‘Don’t say that, please,’ intoned Christian. ‘They will have to last a while longer. I’ll give the Triffids a butchering!’

  ‘How’s the family?’ asked Duncan.

  ‘Oh, not bad thanks. They are doing well at school. Which is good considering the fees they charge.’

  ‘Yes, it can be very expensive, what with all the extra clubs and the like.’ Duncan continued to snip away at his hedge. ‘You know the Abbey School is a very good secondary school. I’m sure they would be fine there when they get to eleven. My two went there although it was a while ago now of course. It’s quite academic and my boys got good exam results.’

  ‘I’ve told Geraldine we might have to consider that when they are older. The fees will be even higher in the upper school.’

  ‘How old are your two now?’

  ‘Persephone is nine, Rufus is seven.’

  ‘Yes, well before you know it she’ll be ready for senior school.’

  ‘Thanks, it’s good to have a recommendation.’ Suddenly Christian put his hand to his head and held on to the fence.

  ‘You OK?’ asked Duncan.

  ‘Got a bit of a headache, it’s been a stressful day. I think I might have to take some pills.’

  ‘Hope you feel better soon. Right I must get on with my topiary,’ joked Duncan.

  ‘Ha! I can’t quite make out which animal it is,’ replied Christian. ‘I hope it’s not going to be something rude!’

  Christian wandered back to his seat in the shade and sighing put his head back and closed his eyes. He wished he’d not been swayed to buy such a large property with its associated huge upkeep. He had tried to persuade his wife that they should use the opportunity to save some of the money from the sale of their Hertfordshire home in case of a rainy day. That would have given them a cushion against a job market which seemed to become more fragile each year. However, Geraldine wouldn’t hear of it and accused him of being boring, over cautious and unambitious.

  His mobile rang. ‘Hi, darling,’ he said wearily.

  ‘Hi, are you back yet?’

  ‘Yes, I got back about ten minutes ago.’

  ‘Early finish today?’

  ‘Yes, it’s been a crap day, I had some staff issues to sort out. And we need to have a chat as well, it’s not looking very good at ClinTry.’

  As usual, Geraldine showed no interest in a negative report from his workplace and just assumed that her husband was being overly bleak.

  ‘I’m driving so I’ll be brief. Just letting you know that Rufus has been invited around to his friend Freddie’s after his violin lesson and Persephone will be at her usual gym club for an hour after her piano lesson. I’m on the way to Freddie’s now and then on to the gym. Oh, come on, don’t be so slow, you could have gone then!’ she shouted at a cautious motorist.

  Christian listened whilst his wife continued to enthuse about how well the teachers had told her that his children were doing, his mind wandering as she chatted away.

  ‘So, I’ll drop Persephone back at about 7 p.m. and then I’m going out with the girls from work. I think I told you?’

  Christian drifted off to think about the situation at work.

  ‘Christian, are you still there?’

  ‘Yes, darling, couldn’t hear you for a minute, the reception must have gone. So I’ll see you for dinner about 7 p.m. then, what are we having to eat?’

  ‘No, I’m going out with the girls from work. You will be looking after Persephone and then Rufus will be dropped back home by Freddie’s parents about 8 p.m. Then it’s straight to bed for him. There’s a pasta bake in the fridge you can microwave for you and Persephone.’

  ‘OK, thanks for letting me know,’ he replied flatly.

  ‘Everything OK, Christian, you seem a bit down?’

  ‘No, just a bit tired, I’ve been at work, remember? I did say that things aren’t good there.’

  ‘I work as well, remember?’ she said pointedly.

  ‘Bye then, have a good evening,’ he said and disconnected. He shook his head and went to fetch another beer. The conversation had taken its usual course. A rundown of the after-school activities which served to increase their outgoings even more and her sniping reminders that she also worked. At least her salary covered some of the household expenses and their extravagant food bill which consisted largely of convenience items. He could hardly remember the last time he’d had a home-cooked meal. If he wanted one he would have to buy the ingredients and make it himself. A foray into culinary matters would have to wait for another evening, tonight he would spend some time with Persephone and be on hand to provide some help with her homework if necessary.

  Christian thought about his relationship with his wife. They never talked to each other or made an effort to spend time together. Geraldine devoted herself to pushing her children to participate in numerous extracurricular activities. He’d tried to tell her that he felt it was too much for them but she batted away his concerns, insisting it was important for them to broaden their horizons and be well-rounded children. They seemed to be in dispute more times than agreement these days. They were growing apart and the gulf was widening inexorably. How long would it be before the strain proved too much and the ties snapped completely?

  He wandered back into the kitchen to
check out the pasta bake which he would share with his daughter and checked the time. Once Persephone was tucked up in bed he would be able to have some time on his own and indulge in his little hobby. Perhaps the evening wouldn’t be so bad after all.

  Chapter 6

  ‘Ron, come in! Good to see you, it’s been too long,’ said Felicity Shipton, ushering Ron Radford into the hallway of their large mock Tudor style house.

  ‘Felicity, you look lovely,’ said Ron, standing back and looking her up and down. ‘I swear you look younger every time I see you.’

  ‘Ha, I don’t think so,’ said Felicity, slapping him lightly on the arm.

  They kissed briefly on the cheek and Ron stepped over the threshold, handing over the bottle of red wine and flowers to his hostess

  ‘Oh, Ron, they’re are lovely. You shouldn’t have.’ Felicity put her nose to the hand-tied bunch of flowers. ‘Oh, what a pretty bouquet. There’s alstroemeria in there, they are my favourites. Gerald’s in the lounge looking after our guests. Go through and let’s get you a drink.’

  He followed her across the parquet floor towards the lounge where he could hear the muted chatter of male and female voices.

  ‘Look who’s here,’ said Felicity.

  ‘Ron, my old friend,’ said Gerald, ‘come in, come in. Now, what can I get you?’

  ‘Oh, gin and tonic please,’ said Ron, casting his eyes around the group. He recognised another couple, who were sitting next to each other on a sofa, Charlie and Evelyn Secombe who he’d met at the Persford Chamber of Commerce dinner a few years ago and he sometimes saw Charlie on the golf course. Charlie stood as he approached.

  ‘Charlie, good to see you. Not seen you on the golf course recently?’

  ‘No, I’ve had a hip replacement but I’m hoping to get back to golf soon. I’ll give you a call and we can have a round sometime.’ Ron shook hands with Charlie and bent to kiss his wife.

  ‘Ron, how are you doing,’ asked Evelyn. ‘I hope you are looking after yourself, you look thinner. I’m still shocked at what...’ and she paused. ‘Well, after your losses, I still can’t believe it,’ and her voice started to tremble.

  ‘Evelyn, don’t upset Ron,’ said her husband sharply. ‘Listen, take a seat. How’s business going?’

  ‘Oh, fine, fine, ticking over,’ said Ron, his gaze straying to another person in the room. Sitting in a winged armchair was a woman who looked to be in her fifties. She was clasping a glass of white wine so tightly that the stem might snap at any moment and she looked nervous. She was wearing several rings including a diamond solitaire on the ring finger of her left hand but Ron couldn’t see a wedding band. She smiled back at him and nodded.

  Gerald brought over Ron’s drink. ‘Oh, I’m sorry, I’m so rude. I’ve not introduced you. This is Maureen. Ron, Maureen.’

  ‘Pleased to meet you,’ said Ron, going over and shaking her hand.

  ‘Likewise,’ she said. ‘I’ve seen your name in the local paper regarding the laboratory you’ve paid for at the University.’

  ‘Well, it was just a refurbishment,’ said Ron, ‘a bit of modernisation.’

  ‘Maureen’s soon to be ex-husband is Hubert Welch, property developer and complete bastard as far as I’m concerned. You’re well rid of him my dear.’ Gerald’s colour heightened as he maligned Hubert.

  Maureen blushed at this outburst and she focused her gaze on her wine.

  ‘Shush, Gerald,’ said Felicity. ‘Don’t embarrass Maureen. We want to have a pleasant evening. Now, we will be ready to go through in about fifteen minutes, if that’s OK with everyone.’

  The group murmured their assent. Ron drank his aperitif and the conversation turned to general matters of what was happening in Persford and the usual talk about the weather. It was obvious that Gerald and Felicity were playing cupid and trying to set up Ron with a lady friend. He felt a bit awkward as they were the only two unattached people but there was no doubting she was an attractive lady. Her once blonde hair was greying naturally and was cut in a layered style framing her face and she wore just a trace of make-up. She was casually dressed in black trousers, flat black pump style shoes and wore a dark blue silk sleeveless blouse. The contrast with his ex-wife Shirley couldn’t have been more marked. Shirley lacked subtlety in the way she dressed and her bleached blonde hair was obviously courtesy of regular chemical treatment. Shirley’s face had been wrinkle-free due to expensive sessions under the surgeon’s knife whereas Maureen’s face bore some small laughter lines which were in no way off-putting but served to enhance her character.

  ‘So, Ron, got a bit of news for you,’ said Gerald. ‘I was speaking to one of my friend’s who’s in the know, this lunchtime, in fact.’

  Gerald was obviously talking about one of his Masonic friends. He’d heard this phrase before and Gerald’s information usually came from one source.

  ‘It seems that ClinTry, I think it’s called. You know that set up where they do the clinical trials. Had that bit of a cock-up a while ago when that volunteer claimed they’d got too big a dose and all that.’

  ‘Yes, I know it. The cancer spin-off company we’re thinking of investing in is hoping to do the clinical trials there,’ said Ron.

  ‘Really, I didn’t know that?’

  Ron was always amazed at how Gerald had managed to do so well in business as at times he seemed to be rather ill-informed about the wider facts concerning his future investments. He wondered whether he’d even read the PersCure prospectus properly.

  ‘Well, they might not be able to. From what I hear, it’s about to pull out of Persford. They are in poor financial straits and need a bailout to keep going. It’s part of a chain and from what I’ve heard, the company is thinking of putting it up for sale. If they can’t find a buyer then it will just close and that will be another empty building on the Science Park.’

  ‘Well, that will be a shame,’ said Maureen. ‘I’m sure the clinical director lives in one of the houses we built. We got to know all the people who moved into The Hawthorns when the estate was built,’ she paused, ‘and I’m sure one of them told us last year that they were selling to a new couple who had moved into the area. Now, what were they called?’ Maureen pinched the bridge of her nose between her fingertips. ‘Dolby, no not that. Dalman, er, no, Dalton, that’s it.’

  ‘I don’t think I know them,’ said Ron frowning slightly and mentally going through his list of acquaintances.

  ‘Well, I think this chap was recruited by ClinTry to sort of, well, bring in more business, try to improve the finances, that sort of thing. Perhaps it was too much for him. I guess you can only do so much.’

  ‘Well, of course. You can’t make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear,’ said Ron.

  ‘No, indeed. But it will be a shame if they have to move again,’ she lowered her voice. ‘From what I hear, the couple are a bit stretched financially. I’m friends with a lady who works at the solicitor’s office where his wife works and well.... let’s just say, I think they might have taken on a bit too big a mortgage and things. The children go to private school as well, it can’t be cheap.’

  ‘Right, well, let’s go through,’ said Felicity. ‘It’s nothing special, just some salmon and salads and things.’

  The guests filed through to the spacious dining room and took their seats at the rectangular oak table. Ron and Maureen sat opposite the Secombes and Ron pulled out Maureen’s chair for her. The conversation switched to the food as Felicity’s description of the meal on offer was rather an understatement. Ron was enjoying himself and began to think whether there could be some future relationship with Maureen. She seemed to have relaxed in his company and was laughing at his jokes in a genuine fashion. He didn’t want to appear too forward but he hoped that she might agree to see him again. He also wanted to find out more about her ex-husband. Why had Gerald got so upset and called him a complete bastard? Welch Properties was well known in the area and must be worth a fortune.

  However, Hubert’s dubious behav
iour wasn’t the only things he would be looking into in the coming days. He was particularly interested in the information he’d gleaned about ClinTry and he would follow-up on that tomorrow. For now, he would enjoy the food and try to get a few moments alone with Maureen at the end of the evening to perhaps exchange phone numbers. Although he had been fully occupied by attempting to change the emphasis in his business empire over the last six months, he had also felt that there was something missing in his life. This evening, for the first time in many months he felt that a new beginning might be on the horizon.

  Chapter 7

  It was 9 p.m. and several interested parties were logged on to the Love2Connect chat room which operated in the county. For some people chatting was enough. For others it was an opportunity to find willing participants for casual relationships. Occasionally a chance meeting led to something more lasting but those instances were in the minority.

  Doc, BoredStiff and Lonely34 are online.

  Doc: Feeling lonely tonite. Anyone want to chat?

  Lonely34: I’m here 4 u. How can I help you relax?

  Doc: Tell me something about yourself.

  Lonely34: I’m hot and I’m not talking about the weather.

  Doc: Can I see how hot you are?

  Lonely34: Not so fast. I don’t know you.

  Doc: I’d love to get to know you better.

  Lonely34: You sound desperate.

  Doc: Only desperate for someone who sounds as gorgeous as you. Let me see how gorgeous? You know you want to. Admit it!

  GoodTimeGal is online.

  BoredStiff: Hey anyone fancy some action?