Scandal

by Stirk, Vivienne

  With a pile of files to work through, Ashleigh hoped a busy day would keep her from missing Finn. Her first day working without Finn did prove to be exceptionally busy, so much so, her lunch was eaten in between phone calls. The phone rang later that day. It was a regular client of Watson and Son. Finn had dealt with his accounts for the past three years, his father many years before then. Ashleigh chatted amicably to Mr Jackson for several minutes before asking how she could help. He was ringing to hurry along an invoice. With another financial year end creeping up, Mr Jackson wanted to settle his invoices before then. Finn was the person who dealt with all of the invoices but to help Mr Jackson, Ashleigh said she’d have a look in his pending file to see if the invoices had been processed. She made a note of how much they should be for, wrote down a contact number, promising to get back to him by the end of the day. It felt a little strange helping herself to Finn’s files but she wanted to help the client. As least it’d be one less thing for Finn to have to do when he came back.

  Following on from Mr Jackson’s earlier telephone call, Ashleigh located a file labelled invoices quite easily but confusion set in as another file, also labelled invoices, was underneath. Hurrying back to her desk, she opened the first file. There were twenty invoices in total, all dated January. Mr Jackson’s was there, with a total of five hundred and fifty pounds written in the box showing the total. Looking at how complex the breakdown of the whole invoice was made Ashleigh feel grateful she wasn’t usually involved in this side of the business. She’d wanted to learn about invoices when she’d been offered the job, but Finn insisted it wasn’t suitable for her. It’s too complicated, he’d said.

  Just before Ashleigh rang Mr Jackson back, she thought she’d look through the other file, just to see if there were any pending invoices in that one; that way, she could be super efficient and inform him. The other file contained lots of invoices like the first file, puzzling Ashleigh a little. They all had January’s date on but the one for Mr Jackson was two hundred pounds less. Another one for a Mr Thompson in the second file was three hundred pounds less than in the first file. The files held a duplicated invoice, all details exactly the same except for their totals. There was several hundred pounds difference between each duplicate invoice. Accounting wasn’t a strong point of Ashleigh’s but she knew that something didn’t add up. Feeling that to ring Mr Jackson admitting she was confused over the two invoices, would be a foolish and bad idea. Instead, she carefully put the files back and rang him saying she couldn’t locate his invoice but would pass on a message to Finn to ring him.

  Ashleigh couldn’t concentrate for the rest of the afternoon through thinking about what she’d discovered. But what exactly she’d discovered she couldn’t say. Surely Finn wasn’t fiddling the accounts? Impossible, she thought, tidying away for the day. There was no way she’d tackle him about it either.

  Her loss of appetite that evening was down to the strange feeling her body held. Feeling as though she’d stumbled upon something she shouldn’t have, only made her feel confused and un-easy. Would the right thing be to speak to Finn about it? Or, perhaps Jack? No, she’d feel nervous doing that, even if he was her father-in-law. Supposing she’d got it all wrong. It could jeopardise her marriage, her career and the trust Finn and Jack had for her.

  Going for a walk led her to the church. It was seven thirty and the door was still unlocked. She knew it would have been. A prayer was a good thing to do, Ashleigh decided as she walked quietly to a pew. The candles on the Altar still flickered, meaning people had been there earlier in the day. Father Patrick would still have to call in at some point in the evening to extinguish them and lock the church up. A prayer came easily that night but with eyes tightly shut, she didn’t see the figure standing at the front of the church. It was the dull sound of brass being knocked which averted her eyes to the source. Expecting to see Father Patrick, Ashleigh was quite startled to see Father Michael. He knew he’d frightened her.

  “I’m sorry if I startled you miss.” His soft Irish accent filled her with warmth. He stepped closer. “I’m doing my first sermon on Sunday and left my notes on the pulpit. I came here earlier to practice.”

  Still kneeling down, Ashleigh replied, “It’s alright, for startling me I mean. Are you nervous for Sunday?” The closer he came, the more aware of his presence she became. Deciding to get to her feet, he was now in front of the pew she was at.

  “A little yes. Will you be joining us on Sunday?”

  Thinking immediately of Finn and his attitude to church and how weird he’d been with her on Christmas Day, she hesitated a little before speaking.

  “If I’m allowed.” She felt embarrassed when she noticed a slight frown cross his face.

  “Allowed? Who is there to stop you?” Something about Father Michael made Ashleigh want to bear all, to unburden her conscience of every thought new and old which haunted her. There were little creases in the corners of his eyes as he smiled, waiting for her answer. He thought he’d best say something first, now guilty for making her feel awkward. “You don’t have to answer that, I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. I just feel ashamed that’s all, that my husband has the ability of making me feel insecure about the church.”

  “I suppose he doesn’t share your views on God then?”

  “No. It’s a shame really. I love the church and everything it stands for.”

  Father Michael smiled again, a deeper one this time, knowing exactly what she meant.

  “It’s hard to believe isn’t it how so many people mock the church?” he added.

  Feeling a sense of sadness at his choice of words she said, “Yes it is. The church was really good to me when my mum …” Realising she was about to say something once again about her mum’s funeral, immediately made her cut her sentence short. A look of panic on her face didn’t go un-noticed by Father Michael, remembering how the last time she’d started talking about her mum, she’d frozen mid sentence. After a few seconds of uncomfortable silence, Ashleigh eventually spoke. “Anyway, I’d best be going. Good luck for Sunday,” she gushed, turning around ready to leave, “if I don’t manage to get here.”

  “Thank you miss,” he replied. As she began to walk away, he remembered he’d met her twice now and didn’t know her name. “What’s your name?” he called. She stopped and turned around.

  “Ashleigh. Ashleigh Watson.”

  Her voice echoed loudly around the high ceiling, frightening her a little. It was as though the echo condemned her for talking to another man.

  And then she was gone. Father Michael was once again left thinking about the young girl who, for reasons unknown to him, carried an air of vulnerability. So young, yet he sensed she was plagued by much burden.

  With the last of the candles out, he watched the swirls of smoke rising up to Heaven as he said a prayer for the young girl he now knew was called Ashleigh. With the church once again standing in its own darkness, he left to go home. Making his way through the vestry door, he locked up for the night. For him, the church had been a healer of hard times, his saviour even. He was now and forever would be, in God’s debt. Through the heartache he’d witnessed in his life, God had given him the strength he’d lacked as a man. His vocation in life was to serve God and help other people in their hour of need.

  As the gravel crunched underneath firm feet, the grand form of the church looming over him in the shadows, Father Michael entered the warmth of the nearby rectory. He hung up his robe and made his way into the lounge. His favourite chair awaited him, engulfing his form with eagerness. What it was about Ashleigh Watson which intrigued him, he didn’t know; couldn’t quite pin point what it was about her that he’d warmed to. He only hoped their encounter this evening would be the start of a mutual friendship.

  Chapter Eleven

  Rightly or wrongly, Ashleigh left work at three o’clock. It was Wednesday, the phones had been quiet all day and she had an important meal to make for Finn. Later he’d be home after his two days a
way from her. With his favourite meal of beef on the menu, an expensive bottle of red breathing in the kitchen, all that was left to arrange for a romantic evening were candles and soft music. Preparing the meal was easy. Everything was scheduled to be ready for seven o’clock. Finn was due back at six, giving him enough time for a shower, a change of clothes and a glass of wine as an aperitif.

  Nerves fussed around in Ashleigh’s stomach as she waited for Finn to arrive home. The strange thing about the troublesome nerves was, she couldn’t explain them, eventually putting them down to the excitement of seeing him again after being away. It was, after all, the first time since they’d met, they’d been apart.

  Ashleigh had made an extra effort with her own appearance that evening, choosing a dress she knew Finn classed as one of his favourites. With a new perfume on and her hair styled, it was down to Finn’s return to complete the evening. When she heard his key in the door her heart raced. Coming out of the kitchen she waited for him eagerly. He looked tired but handsome as he placed his bag down by the door.

  “Hello Finn,” Ashleigh said, giving him a kiss. His actions surprised her. Instead of holding her and returning the kiss, he removed her hands from around his neck.

  “Not now love. I need a shower first.”

  Feeling wounded by his coldness, Ashleigh checked the meal as Finn showered. Hidden away in the kitchen, he was unable to see the tears he’d caused. Clad in dressing gown, he helped himself to a glass of wine before sitting down. Ashleigh came out of the kitchen, sitting opposite him. Somehow he seemed different. His attention was taken up with his glass of wine. Hating the strange atmosphere, Ashleigh racked her brain for something to say; anything to melt the weird vibe in the room.

  “So, how was your trip?”

  After another gulp of wine he replied, “I really don’t want to discuss it Ashleigh. I’m tired. When’s dinner?”

  “Fifteen minutes. I’ve made your favourite.”

  “Beans on toast would have been fine.”

  His words cut through her. The generous glasses of wine he’d poured himself soon found the bottle empty. Ashleigh hadn’t had a chance of a glass for herself. It had been meant to go with the meal. The atmosphere during their meal wasn’t any better.

  “Is your beef alright Finn?”

  “Yes.”

  “I wanted to make your favourite.”

  “Why?”

  “Well, because you’ve been away.”

  “It was only for two days.”

  “I know but it felt longer.”

  “Did it? Can’t say I noticed.”

  Never before had she seen this side of Finn. After eating his meal, he left his plate on the table, took a bottle of beer from the fridge and sat down to watch television. There wasn’t a thank you for the lovely meal, nor an offer to help with the washing up. Instead, his silence pained her, leaving her to feel as though she was married to an ungrateful stranger, not the man she adored and had missed so much. Making it clear he didn’t want to talk to her, let alone touch her, he later went to the bedroom to watch television.

  As Ashleigh washed up, her mind raced with questions. Knowing she should go and talk to him only made her feel that she couldn’t. Hoping it was just down to tiredness helped her to come to terms with his behaviour. Wiping her silent tears away, Ashleigh put on her coat and slid out of the flat.

  It was dark and cold outside, certainly not a time for a young woman to be out alone, but staying at home wasn’t an option. Finn’s coldness was too unbearable. Instead of fighting, she’d fled. To her relief, the lights were still on in church. As her hand reached for the cold iron handle, she paused, feeling she should be at home talking to Finn. Why was she running anyway? She hadn’t done anything wrong. Thinking herself a coward for not being with Finn brought more tears to her eyes. Why was it that when a problem came along, she immediately ran to church instead of just tackling whatever the issue was? Her answer to that was the church didn’t judge and it helped her to think clearly and rationally. The door handle suddenly came away from her fingers before she had a chance to decide what she was doing. Father Michael seemed as shocked to see her standing there as she was to see him.

  “I was concerned when I heard the door handle rattle but no one came in. Are you alright Ashleigh?”

  Wiping her eyes in the hope he hadn’t seen the tears, she cleared her throat before speaking.

  “I don’t know Father.”

  “Do come in. It’s a little warmer than out here.” They found a seat near the front of the church, the flickering light from the candles paving their way. Father Michael sat next to her but made sure there was some distance between them. “Do you wish to talk about it?” he asked softly.

  “I’m not sure if I should.” He didn’t ask why straight away, letting Ashleigh gather her thoughts. “Shouldn’t things between married couples be private Father?”

  “Well yes, but sometimes it’s good to ask the opinion of an outsider.”

  “I’d feel like I was betraying him if I talked to you.”

  “You don’t have to tell me anything but I will say, you look really upset Ashleigh.”

  Fresh tears formed in her eyes, making it impossible to speak. As if by magic, Father Michael produced a tissue and gave it to her. She said thank you in between sniffs and wipes.

  “You must think I’m a pathetic mess,” she added once calm.

  “Not at all. You’re obviously upset about something and if you feel you’d like to share that with me, I’d be only too pleased to listen. It would be totally confidential.”

  For the first time since she’d arrived at church, Ashleigh turned to look at Father Michael. Her eyes scanned his face. There was a youthful look to his face, making him appear young and fresh. Ashleigh knew he must be older than her, but would only put him in his early thirties. A sparkling in his eyes warmed her throughout, helping her to feel she could trust this man.

  “Forgive me Father for being weak,” she began. He didn’t comment, just let her compose herself. “I love my husband very much but tonight, after two days away, he seemed cold towards me.”

  “Take your time Ashleigh,” he said, hearing a tremble in her voice.

  “I made him a nice meal, made an effort with my appearance but he didn’t even hug me or thank me for anything. He didn’t even want to talk. In the end, he shut himself in the bedroom to watch television.”

  “I see,” he finally said. By now Ashleigh was crying again, trying to dry her tears with a soggy tissue. “How long have you been together?” he asked.

  “Just over a year, why?”

  “No reason. I’m just trying to build up a picture that’s all.”

  “I know it isn’t a long time but things have been really good between us. He’s always treated me well, shown an interest in my life and has always made me feel wanted.”

  “Maybe he’s just tired Ashleigh. Sometimes people take things out on the people they care about the most when they are over tired. They do strange things because they feel the most comfortable with them.”

  “I thought he might just be tired but there was something else.” She paused, looking into the distance as though it held the answer. “He just seemed so distant and hostile towards me. That doesn’t sound like someone who’s just tired.”

  In his own mind, Father Michael had his own thoughts as to Finn’s unexplainable behaviour, but they weren’t thoughts he’d share with Ashleigh. In the end, he brushed them aside. His job was to offer Ashleigh some advice to keep her strong, not to tell her that her husband was a manipulative, control freak.

  “Was his trip a business trip?”

  “Yes it was.”

  “Is his job quite stressful?”

  “It can be at times. I work with him but he doesn’t want me getting involved with certain aspects of the company.”

  “Has he said why?”

  “Only that it’s complicated and I wouldn’t understand.”

  “But you feel y
ou should know about his role at work?”

  Pausing for a moment Ashleigh said, “I feel it’s my role as his wife to show an interest in my husband’s work.”

  “Do you think you’d understand it even if he did inform you?” Thinking back to Monday and the confusion with the invoices, she had to shake her head.

  “Probably not. I tried to work out his invoice system the other day for a client but because there were two different invoices for the same client, I was completely baffled.”

  Father Michael loved the vulnerability surrounding Ashleigh, knowing that a lot of men would use this as a weakness. Tonight though, upon hearing her words, he felt there was more to her naivety than he first imagined, wondering whether her husband saw that also. The confusion with the invoices immediately rang alarm bells in his head but dismissed them quickly, feeling he was jumping to conclusions too easily.

  “You seem level headed to me Ashleigh, but if I were to give you advice, it would be to go home and see how your husband is. Talk to him. If he wants to talk, he will. It might be a good idea too to separate your role as his work colleague with that as his wife. Treat the two as different roles completely.” They rose from the long pews, walking steadily to the door. “I’m sure things will be back to normal in the morning, when he’s had chance to catch up on sleep,” he added.

  “I hope you’re right. I couldn’t bear it if we fell out.” Just before he reached the door handle to see her out, he turned to face her.

  “You know the church is open until late every evening. Don’t feel afraid to call in if you need a chat.”

  “Thank you. I don’t know how to repay you for your kindness.” Her words made him laugh. “What?” she asked, unsure of what the joke was.