It Always Rains in November

by Richard Hoffman

  Michael was not impressed. “What about Faye?...He’s a dickhead man, I ain’t goin’.”

  If the lads had started to grow apart recently, it was because Nathan and Michael had a head start in the pulling arena. Nathan was up for Kelly and the others reckoned that Kim and Becky were chung. Duayne, Billy, Jamie and Mark followed Nathan over to the girls.

  “Hey, Kel, remember me? Nathan. I used to come here. I mean, like, to the school obviously… You’ve changed.”

  The girls giggled – even a Big Brother psychologist would have recognised signs of sexual attraction.

  “Is that, like, for the better?” Kelly flicked her hair back as she asked the question.

  “Yeah course, look, we’re all goin’ breezin’ down the park. You comin’?”

  The girls were unanimous. This was going to be Nathan’s afternoon. Jamie, Mark, Billy and Duayne were on a 4 vs. 2 mission, but even so, it was worth giving up an afternoon at Michael’s on the PS3.

  “Michael, we’re goin’ down the park. You comin?”

  “No, mate, I have a girlfriend to see. Laters,” and then quietly to himself, “I’ll tell Faye you were asking after her…”

  * * *

  Janice Richardson was home from work at just after 4 as always. Through the wall of her terraced home she could hear her unemployed neighbour playing Leona Lewis and wondered if he might be gay, as Nathan kept insisting. Sat on her own, instead of switching the TV on, her thoughts drifted to work, and more specifically, her potential man. She felt sorry for Carl. Jeffrey Park was a slimeball and Martin Miller wasn’t much better. Carl was always decent though. She knew about his problems with his teenage daughter and sometimes they swapped stories. Bringing up Nathan on her own, Janice had enjoyed precious little male company in the last 15 years. In the early days most blokes ran a mile when introduced to her little boy and she was painfully aware that her best days were behind her. Carl was a good looking guy, three years older than her at 38, so might he be interested in her? Even past her best and with extra poundage, she surely wasn’t too bad. She deserved another crack at happiness before middle age and death came knocking.

  Janice figured out a strategy. She would ask Marion – yes, she could trust Marion – to agree to go for a drink after work. They would ask Carl if he wanted to join them, all perfectly innocent – he sat with them after all – Marion would leave after one drink, and Janice would have her man.

  With her plan resolved, she went to make herself a cup of tea, picking up the letters from her welcome mat. The post must have arrived later than usual. Normally, Nathan picked it up before he went to school. As she flicked through the envelopes she was Mrs Janice Price – she could sell the house and give up work, she could….

  Janice’s dream ended before she had an opportunity to consider a grand white wedding, a possible 2nd child (a daughter this time, and a well behaved one, who enjoyed shopping trips with her Mum), or holidays in the Caribbean drinking Piña Coladas. Amongst the usual junk mail, charity requests, credit card offers and new loans at a hidden 900% APR, was a letter from the Education Authority. Nathan had not been to school for months. Phone messages and letters were being ignored and the Education Authority needed to meet with Janice immediately before court action threatened.

  Janice looked up at the ceiling and whispered in grim realisation, “Nathan, you little bastard, why couldn’t you go to school?”

  Chapter 6

  Wednesday 3rd November @ Crouts

  Marie was sat, reading her file notes, in the reception of Crouts Furnishers plc. Louis’ arrival disturbed her thoughts, as he threw himself into the chair next to her.

  “Hi, Marie, not late am I?”

  “No, I was early. I haven’t even signed us in yet.”

  A tall, thin, bespectacled man ambled into reception. Louis whispered, “There’s your typical accountant,” and Marie knew that he must be Martin Miller. After a quiet word with the receptionist, he walked over to Marie.

  “Good morning, you must be Marie.”

  “That’s right, yes, and you are?”

  “Oh, er, yes, of course. I am Martin. Martin Miller.”

  He touched his glasses and ran a finger down his nose.

  “This is my colleague, Louis.”

  Martin offered a limp handshake to Louis and then turned his attention towards Marie, copying his boss by staring at her breasts.

  Asking them to follow him, he led the auditors downstairs to their basement office.

  At the basement office, he turned to face Marie. “This is it. I hope it’s good enough.”

  Marie grimaced in disgust and then closed her eyes. It wasn’t the spartan office accommodation. Martin’s right hand had moved towards his nostril. She turned away and never knew the result of his nasal exploration. As she turned to look at her new temporary workplace her shoulders drooped. There was enough space for two PCs and two small desks but nothing else and there were no windows. As an external auditor, Marie did not expect luxury at a client site but this was grim. She shivered and hoped that it wasn’t because of a ghost passing through. Still, with no choice, Marie and Louis sat down and began switching on the terminals.

  Careful not to look up at Martin in case he was eating or flicking, she stared at the PC.

  “What is the password to your accounts system? I understood from Jeffrey, er Mr Parker, that these would be set up for us.”

  “Passwords, oh, er, yes I, er…” Martin stumbled to cover up his omission. “Oh yes, er, I, I …I can’t get the staff these days. I’ll get right on to it and get back to you straight away.”

  Martin scuttled from the room leaving Louis and Marie surveying their pokey office with some distaste. “At least we have privacy here, we can talk about the staff here without them knowing,” Louis eventually remarked.

  “I guess so,” Marie agreed, “talking of which, Martin seems a bit of a prat, doesn’t he?”

  * * *

  Meanwhile, on the second floor of Crouts, Janice Richardson was putting into operation her plan for future happiness.

  She shuffled her chair over to Marion’s desk.

  “Marion, how’s the family?”

  “Great thanks. It was our 28th wedding anniversary at the weekend. We had all the family over, my boys and the three grandchildren. It was...” Marion broke off. “Wait a sec Janice, why are you whispering? Is Mr Parker around?”

  “No, I don’t think so,” Janice replied looking around. “The thing is Marion, whilst Carl is in the toilet, I want a quick word with you.”

  Marion smiled. She was an attractive woman and a good friend to Janice at work. She had met her husband at Crouts and although he had long since left, she had stayed on, apart from three rounds of maternity leave.

  Janice hesitated and Marion began to laugh.

  “Come on Janice. Spill the beans. What is this about?”

  Janice winced. “Ok, I’ll just spit it out. You know me. And you know Carl. And you know, well... I thought it...I thought it could be....”

  Janice did not normally struggle with her words and could see Marion’s look of sympathy. God, she hoped it wasn’t a look of pity. Had she become a charity case? Exacerbating the embarrassment, Marion put her hands on her friend’s shoulders. Janice felt uneasy about tactile behaviour. Apart from the rare occasion when she had been on a date she had hardly been touched since her ex husband walked out. Nathan hadn’t kissed her for at least five years. She looked at the hands on her shoulders one by one and then looked up, hoping Marion would move. She didn’t.

  “Janice, look at me and say what’s on your mind. Or maybe I can push things along for you.”

  Janice sat back in her chair, away from Marion’s intrusive grasp.

  “I am trying to explain, Marion, but it’s embarassing... maybe just forget it. Let’s just...”

  Marion leaned forwards and, although Janice knew her colleague meant well, she felt a need to escape.

>   “No, no, you don’t get away that easily,” Marion warned with a good-natured grin, “I’m going to guess here that this is about you liking Carl. Am I warm?”

  Janice stared at her, stunned. Marion knew she fancied Carl!?

  “Yes very, but how?...Oh God, do you think he?... Do you think anyone else here?...” Janice gabbled, hoping for reassurance.

  Marion shook her head in disbelief.

  “Janice, I’ve sat with you and Carl for years. I’ve always thought how nice it would be if you two got together. I mean, you get on well, you are similar age and both single parents. I think you’d make a nice couple.”

  “Do you? Do you really?”

  “Yes, I do, but go on, tell me what you wanted to say. Carl will come back from the toilet at some point today. Oh did you hear that? I’m a poet but I...”

  “OK, OK...it’s just an idea...a plan...”

  “Jan, for pity’s sake, spit it out.”

  Janice took a deep breath and the words tumbled out.

  “I want to ask you and Carl for a drink after work. We all go there. You make an excuse after 5 minutes, and me and Carl have a date, kind of.”

  Marion nodded in approval.

  “Sounds like a plan, Jan. Oh, I’ve done it again. Did you hear that? It’s a plan...”

  “Really good that, Marion. Apart from becoming the next Keats, are you going to help me?”

  “Yes, of course, Jan. And it is the season of mists and mellow fruitfulness, after all.”

  “What?”

  Janice stroked her forehead, wondering whether she was doing the right thing.

  “It’s a Keats poem. I’m wasted here. Don’t look so worried Jan. I’ll help you out. Even better if you like, I’ll invite you both to the pub, so if it doesn’t work out, you won’t lose face.”

  Janice felt a wave of joy, and had to stop herself from hugging Marion in the open plan office. Now she didn’t even have the pressure of convincing Carl to come along. As she returned to her own desk and started to work, she could daydream that this was job done. (From spending time with Carl in the pub, getting along famously, being asked out again, becoming lovers, falling in love, having a baby, getting married – not necessarily in that order – but, oh God, what about Nathan, how difficult would he be when she brought Carl home? How is he going to be with a new “Daddy?” He’s bound to tell Carl to fuck off and he probably will and…)

  Janice’s dreams were rudely interrupted by Martin shouting.

  “Janice, Marion – where is Carl?”

  “Er, not sure, I think he’s in the toilet.”

  “In the toilet, he’s always in the bloody toilet, what is it with him – does he have a problem with his bladder or something?”

  “I don’t think he has a bladder problem, Martin, but…” Marion answered him.

  “It was a rhetorical question – I’m going to drag him out anyway.”

  Martin stormed off to find Carl. Marion watched him go.

  “I hope he lets Carl pull his pants up before he drags him out.”

  Janice was in deep thought “You know, Marion, I think he’s right about Carl spending loads of time in the toilet. But I don’t think it’s his bladder. I think he hates Martin so much that he escapes to the toilet during the day. He’s probably sat on the toilet, reading a magazine.”

  “You could ring him on his mobile and warn him Martin’s on the prowl.”

  * * *

  It was too late though, Martin and Carl came back from the gents together.

  “Martin, what is your problem? I can’t even have a crap in peace.”

  Martin beckoned him into his office. “The auditors are downstairs and they have no access to the systems. They’re looking at a blank screen on their PCs – they need to have access – now!”

  “OK, no sweat, I’ll arrange it with IT and tell them,” Carl responded with a smile. Why was his boss so stressed over this?

  “No, no, you get the access and come and tell me. It’s my responsibility. I’ll go down and tell them.”

  “OK no problem, I’ll give you the access codes tomorrow, first thing.”

  “OK, that’s fine, thanks …..”

  Carl turned to go but suddenly Martin was shouting – very loudly. “… Tomorrow? Tomorrow’s no fucking good! What are they supposed to do all day?”

  Carl was shocked – Martin was normally smarmy and anger was unusual for him. His eyes were bulging as he spat his words out. The euro dropped.

  “You’ve ballsed up, haven’t you Martin? Forgotten the codes. Is old Nosey gonna give you a bollocking for this?”

  Martin was sweating. Not a pretty sight, but at least he wasn’t picking.

  “You need to remember...”

  “I’m sorry, Martin, there’s nothing I can do. It always takes 24 hours for an IT access request to become active.”

  “Oh shit! Can’t you do anything?”

  “I can go down and talk to the auditors for you. Are they in the basement?”

  “No, I’ve told you once. I’ll have to go and apologise to them.”

  “Apologise for what?” The familiar tones of the superior being, Jeffrey Parker, wafted unpleasantly into Martin’s office. The big boss had journeyed from his ivory tower to visit his serfs.

  “It’s .. it’s nothing,” Martin recovered his composure. “Thanks, Carl, don’t worry about it. I’ll sort this with Mr Parker. You can go back to work.”

  Carl mumbled goodbye and left. Jeffrey shut the door behind him.

  * * *

  Martin waited until Carl had sat down at his own desk, and was out of earshot.

  “It’s Carl, Jeffrey,” Martin whispered. “He forgot to issue access cards to the auditors and now they have to wait until tomorrow before they can begin any work. It means that they are sat here all day twiddling their thumbs.”

  Jeffrey peered through the window.

  “Carl Richardson – hmm – him sat out there? If he’s not up to the task, Martin, sort him out. There are plenty of younger, hungrier, more efficient people out there, waiting for an opportunity like this.”

  Jeffrey wasn’t whispering, but Martin could not tell him to lower his voice. He hoped that Carl couldn’t hear his plotting.

  “Fire him, just for this? It’s not that serious, Jeffrey. Don’t worry – I will deal with him... and it also gives us the reason to keep his pay rise down next month.”

  “Pay rise? He’ll be lucky to have a job at all, forgetting those access codes. Isn’t he the one who took his daughter to Butlins at Bognor last Summer – I don’t think I know anyone else who has gone to Butlins.”

  Martin seized the opportunity to change the subject.

  “Talking of which, Jeffrey, aren’t you away next week?”

  “Yes, I am – I’m having three weeks in Barbados. I’ll still be contactable though, so don’t worry. Anyway…” Jeffrey rose to leave “I will go down to explain this cock up to the auditors. Be careful, Martin, you don’t want to be guilty by association. Make sure your staff don’t make any more mistakes.”

  “Of course, Jeffrey. Many thanks. I’ll make sure of that.”

  * * *

  Janice’s plan had not yet worked. Marion was on board but since his visit to Martin’s office, Carl was clearly distracted.

  “Carl…” Janice began, but she could see that his thoughts were elsewhere.

  “Look at those two in there – I’ll bet the moron is blaming me for his cock up.”

  Janice frowned. “What cock up?”

  “He forgot to ask me to get access codes for the auditors and he’s kicked me out of his office, so he can blame me.”

  “Why would he do that?” A naïve question from Marion.

  “Because he’s an arse licking twat whose only route up the greasy pole of Crouts is to stick his head as far as he can up old Nosey’s arse whilst making sure it’s kept clean and dry from the whiff of error and balls u
ps. That’s why he blames me whenever he fucks up … oh sorry, Marion, I didn’t mean to swear but this is what he does all the time.”

  Janice tried again, “you could probably do with a drink…”

  “I could probably do with getting hammered, buying a bottle of whisky and smashing it over that twat’s head. But I’m not going to … until my mortgage is paid off and Carly has left home.”

  “Marion asked me to go to the Surrey Arms after work,” Janice persisted. “Do you fancy me, I mean it, er … do you fancy it, coming with me... erm us?”

  “Yes that’s right,” Marion chimed in, right on cue. “I thought I’d buy you both a drink as a celebration for my 28th Wedding Anniversary.”

  It wasn’t going well. Janice was ready to postpone. As he watched Jeffrey leaving the office Carl managed a reply

  “Sorry, girls, I’m not quite with it. Did you say something?”

  “I was saying that me and Marion are going….” She stopped because Carl had gone to speak to Martin and was no longer listening at all. Janice finally had to admit failure. Not only had she been unable to persuade Carl to join her at the pub but now Marion knew of her secret desire.

  * * *

  Carl was struggling to keep a lid on his feelings when he marched into Martin’s office, but he was incensed.

  “Martin, can I have a word please?”

  He noticed that solitaire was off the PC for once. Martin must have closed it down as soon as he heard Parker’s voice. The pretence continued. “I am rather busy Carl.”

  “It won’t take long, I wondered – did you blame me for forgetting the access codes?”

  “No, of course not,” Martin protested. “Didn’t you hear me as Jeffrey left? I said, ‘I’ll make sure there are no more mistakes.’ He wasn’t too annoyed with me though, we get along well – he knows that everybody makes the odd mistake but, as long as we are all pulling in the same direction, Jeffrey is on our side.”

  Carl was not convinced but, short of calling Martin a liar, there was not much more he could do.