Jane Forxworthy Read online

  Title Page

  JANE FOXWORTHY

  By

  Paul Kelly

  Publisher Information

  Jane Foxworthy published in 2011 by

  Andrews UK Limited

  www.andrewsuk.com

  This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior written consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published, and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  The characters and situations in this book are entirely imaginary and bear no relation to any real person or actual happening.

  Copyright © Paul Kelly

  The right of Paul Kelly to be identified as author of this book has been asserted in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyrights Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  Chapter One

  WILLS LOOKED AT THE SCRIBBLED NOTE, attached to his drawing board and adjusted his reading glasses as he unwrapped his sandwiches from the plastic container that Evie had packed for him that morning. He blinked nervously and looked away for a few seconds, wondering what on earth J.D. would want from him . . and on a Monday morning too . .’Get to God’s office A.S.A.P . . Urgentius,’

  The note was unsigned but he recognised Graham’s scrawl. Was it another one of his practical jokes or should he proceed as the note instructed? He looked again at his sandwiches and his stomach rumbled. He loved mozzarella cheese but he shoved them hastily back into the plastic container, before throwing it casually into the bottom drawer of his desk.

  The rain peppered the windows lightly with rhythmic tapping as the wind blew in spasms across the panes and along the low flat roof, so clear in his vision from where he was standing. He used to sit out on that roof when the sun was shining and eat his sandwiches there . . He shuddered, took another look at the bottom drawer and shrugged his shoulders.

  “Just the sort of weather for bad news,” he concluded and kicked the drawer closed with his knee as he left the office and headed along the narrow, yellow corridor to The office of God. . . .He stood pensively at the door before he knocked, adjusting his tie and rubbing each of his shoes against his trouser legs.

  “Come!” the stern voice commanded.

  “You wanted to see me Sir?”

  John Deacon looked up from his large, impressive mahogany desk with the portrait of his father glowering down at him from the wall behind, making sure that everything was just hunky-dory as the old man would have said, had he been alive. The atmosphere was always very formal when you were in the Chamber of God . . but to Will’s surprise, he was offered a chair and what was even more surprising, a Havana cigar from the boss’s own silver cigarette casket. The one with his father’s initials proudly engraved on the lid.

  He took the seat but declined the cheroot and J.D. smiled his approval warmly.

  “Wise man . . Wise man indeed,” he emphasized, “These things can only injure your health is what I always say. Only keep them here, because . . well,” He shrugged his shoulders and stuck his thumb in the air, pointing over his head at the venerable portrait on the wall. “The old boy liked a cigar now and again, you know and the silver box there . . well that was presented to him when he was made Chairman of the Company.”

  J.D. chuckled a little, before he coughed nervously and resumed his status of dignity, but Wills was astonished at the manner in which he had conducted the interview, so far. It didn’t seem as though he was on the carpet for anything after all. Quite to the contrary . . but he was puzzled as to what to expect next and his curiosity was biting harder by the moment.

  “Well Willson . . I’ll get straight to the point. I don’t like beating about the bush and anyway, I’m sure your wondering why I’ve sent for you, eh?” Before Wills could answer J.D. lowered his fat chin into his cupped hands and with his elbows rooted to the desk, he closed his eyes as he continued to explain. “We’ve had a meeting recently . . last night to be precise, a Board Meeting and we have a problem we feel you may be able to rectify.” He raised his hands in the air at this juncture and waved then casually. “Now I know what your going to say to that Willson and it was expected at the meeting that you would view our proposals with a certain . . well, reservation.”

  Wills raised his eyes to the portrait of J.D’s father and wondered what the hell was to come next as he tried to smile and give the impression that he was absolutely aut faite with the situation, whatever the hell it was, but even his greatest or wildest guess was soon to dispel that smile when J.D. came out with his next statement.

  “We want you to go to Scotland as General Manager of the offices there. We know you can do it . . We feel you are the best man for the job.” J.D. rattled off his demand in a parrot fashion and sat back in his chair, resting his arms on his belly and twiddling his thumbs as Wills sat motionless. He felt a lightness come over him as if his body was in some kind of levitation. It certainly wasn’t steadfast on the ground as J.D. continued to stare at him with his round gray eyes and where perspiration was already forming around the puffy folds of his smooth skin. He blinked. “Well . . Will you do it?” he asked. Wills looked towards the window. Everything outside was just as it was before he came into J.D’s office, except that the rain had subsided and the sun was making a feeble attempt to break through the clouds that still hung heavy with laboured darkness. “Well, will you?” came the second and impatient demand as the boss mopped his perspiring brow with an immaculate handkerchief that he produced from the pocket of his equally immaculate pin-stripped jacket.

  “Well . . Sir . . I’m stunned . er, flattered of course, but there are others. Others above me in seniority here who are far more qualified. I mean . . some of them are Managers already and I’m only an architect in the General Office, Wills stuttered, but God had descended into the character of J.D. at that moment and his resolute and adamant appeal began to wither.

  “I know only too well what staff we have . . I’m not asking you to tell me that, or their qualifications. . We don’t make decisions lightly, man . . and this matter is of the greatest urgency. You’ll be paid for the task . . We’re not running a Charity, you know.”

  Wills shuffled uncomfortably where he sat and wished the ground would open up and swallow him . . without fuss, but that was not to be.

  “No Sir, “ he said, “I am not the person you should choose. I’m not the man for the job,” he concluded with an inner conviction that he had made the right decision in the time he had been given in which to do it, but God banged his fist down hard on his desk and the silver cigarette box flew into the air with cigars dropping everywhere around the desk and down onto the floor. Wills tried to search for those that landed near him, but J.D. snorted and banged his fist down again.

  “Never mind those bloody things and don’t tell me you’re not the man for the job. You’re a splendid architect with a wealth of knowledge below your belt. .” J.D. stopped talking at this point and wondered if he had made the correct metaphor of his employees qualifications. “Well, you know what I mean, Slade. How long have you been with us? Nearly twenty years, I would say, yes?” he barked.

  Wills replaced the silver casket on the desk, but he left the cigars on the floor and stood on one as he moved his chair. He smiled weakly and kicked the cheroot under the desk where he hoped it wouldn’t be noticed.

  “Seventeen years, Sir, I came her from Grafton’s in 1961,” he answered and J.D. sighed as his manner softened.

  “Willson . . Listen to me please. You’ll never get a chance like this again, you know that, don’t you? I�
�m offering you . . that is WE are offering you a position that most employees would give their right arm for.” If you twisted it enough, thought Wills . . Where’s the catch? “Your records show that you are one of the best architects we have had in this firm for many a year and you are experienced in administration and in Personnel . . Why, Miss Williams says you carried things off wonderfully well when she was pregnant last year.”

  Wills interrupted respectfully,

  “Mrs. Williams, Sir,” he said quietly.

  “What? Oh! Mrs Williams or Miss Williams, what the hell does it matter. She said it didn’t she?”

  It might make a difference to her, thought Wills but J.D. stormed on.

  “And your design craft. That’s the envy of many, I’m sure.”

  Wills had another little thought at this juncture . . Why haven’t you thought of this before when Managers had been appointed in the past and I was overlooked . . .but J.D. went on, waving his hands in the air.

  “We need a very particular type of person for this consignment and whatever you say, you are the right person for the job.”

  The rain had started again when Willson looked out of the window.

  “But Sir . . I am a married man. I have my home here in London, with a mortgage up to my ears and it has taken me a long time to get this far, so how could I start again, in another country and with a different job?”

  J.D continued to wave his hands in the air.

  “You won’t be starting again . . This post is for one year only. That’s how long the contract would last and your home will be safe here until you return, with your mortgage paid whilst your up there . . and . .” Wills stared wide-eyes at his boss and waited for what was to come next. “In Scotland, you’ll have a three bedroom house . . detached of course . . completely self-contained with your own garden . . a large garden, I would add. A thirty-odd foot lounge with French doors leading to a patio, where you could sit out . . in the summer,” He forgot to mention that it rained most of the time in Scotland, even in the summer . .” En-suite bathroom to your bedroom and . . well, I could go on endlessly but I’ll give you a brochure before you go. . . Oh! and a kitchen that will make your dear little wife’s eyes pop out of her sweet little head, so there . .”

  But you haven’t seen my ‘sweet little wife’ J.D. . . thought Wills.

  “But Sir . . I . . I don’t understand . .”

  “Then shut your damn mouth an’ listen to me for a change.” J.D. snapped angrily as Wills raised his eyebrows and listened. “Things are going bad for the Company in Scotland. The General Manager there is a shit. Doesn’t know his arse from his elbow and he’s not doing the job as he should be doing. You know we bought out Weston’s last year? Well we made the mistake of being too bloody courteous with that manoeuvre and kept their General Manager on. The work is dodgy the working staff are great, as far as we know . . It’s the sodden Manager. He hasn’t been trained the way we want him. Weston’s were on the way out for a long time and if we hadn’t taken them over, God knows where they would have been now . . but loyalty is O.K . . when you are loyal to your own, but you don’t owe loyalty or any other bloody thing to a Company when you take it over. We should have had him down here for a time. That’s where we made our mistake. My old man would never have done it like this and we should have realized that at the take-over. Now you know the workings of this Company inside out, Willson. You get on well with everyone here, but you’re firm and resolute and above all . . well, you’re HONEST man . . and that’s what I like about you. You are the ideal man for this job and I won’t hear any more said about the matter . . Understand? Now when can you leave for Scotland? The sooner the better, I would say.”

  Wills was beginning to soften and he knew it, but there was the one great thought at the back of his mind that still worried him . . .He was BLACK. . . .and he tried to talk again and mention that fact, but J.D. got in before him.

  “How long have you been married, Willson?”

  “Seven years Sir.”

  “And you have no children, I understand?”

  J.D. asked his question but it came out like a statement and Wills winced as he shook his head. He and Evie had been desperate to have a child, but it had not worked out that way and he heard the doctor’s remarks again clearly above the injunctions of his boss.

  “Get your end away elsewhere . . but Evie won’t ever give you kids.” he had said, cruelly perhaps but matter-of-fact and there was nothing they could do about it.

  “The perfect set up, Willson,” J.D went on, “No schools involved, see!”

  Wills sighed wearily. He hadn’t expected that bombshell when he set off for the office on this wet Monday morning with his mozzarella cheese sandwiches in his brief case that his lovely Evie had prepared for him. Life had been so simple at 8.45 am, wasn’t it . . he thought.

  “But Sir . .” he tried again, “I don’t mean to sound ungrateful or even . . well conceited, but I think I would do much better staying here and getting on with the job that I know so well. I’ve trained hard and I’ve been to evening classes as you know. I’m happy with things as they are and besides, Evie, my wife, would have to have her say in the matter.”

  J.D. folded some papers on his desk, tapping them together and stacking them neatly in his IN TRAY . .

  “I knew you would say that Willson and so you bloody well should, so I have taken the liberty of asking your wife to come to a Board Room lunch today, with you of course and my other Directors. You see, I must know, one way or another before Friday.”

  “But . . But . .”

  “But what now?”

  “Well . . Evie never said anything about this to me when I left her this morning.”

  “She couldn’t have done. I only phoned her a few minutes ago, before I sent for you.”

  Wills puffed out his cheeks

  “Phew! . . . That’s only five days, Sir.”

  “Yea, I know that. But everything is arranged if you say ‘Yes’ and as I’ve already told you, your home here in London is safe for you when you return and your new home up there in Bonnie Scotland is assured. You’ll have a Company car . a chauffeur up there, if you want one. You’ve nothing to lose.”

  Willson thought of Evie and how probably at that very moment she was getting ready to come to the Directors’ lunch. She’d be as puzzled as he was about everything that was happening, before God set everything in motion and he wished His Omnipotence would deal a little less heavy handed with his lesser mortals. He was about to leave God’s office when J.D called out to him,

  “By the way . . How did you happen to get a name like Willson?”

  Wills hesitated at the door and turned around.

  “My parents are from Barbados . . Maybe that’s why. I can’t be sure.”

  J.D grinned and dusted his belly when he stood up. He always did this and no-one knew why, but someone once suggested that it was the folds in his waistcoat, due to his enormous girth, that gathered dust when he sat down . . . “Never ever heard of anyone being called Willson before, you see,” he said.

  “Maybe your lucky then. The midwife wanted to call me Gladstone.”

  J.D grinned again. “I think Willson Slade is a fine name. Got a nice ring to it, but I don’t know about Gladstone Slade. How would you abbreviate that one, eh? Sounds like a Pentecostal evangelist to me,” he said and Willson laughed as he left the room.

  Chapter Two

  THE RAIN BEAT DOWN WITH A VENGEANCE as Wills paced up and down in the Reception, waiting to catch Evie as she arrived at the office.

  “Have you an umbrella I could borrow, Mandy?” he asked the Receptionist as he thrust his head close to the glass partition, dividing her small office from the rest of the entrance hall.

  “Well yes . . But it’s pink and gray stripes . . Hardly your colour Mr. Slade, but your w
elcome. . . Going out to lunch, are we?”

  Wills grinned . . He didn’t want to go to lunch with anyone but Evie, but Mandy could have helped, if only it was that simple.

  “No, but I’ll borrow it please, if you don’t mind. I’m waiting for my wife. She should be here any time now and I don’t want her to get soaked.”

  Mandy stuffed her nail polish into her bag.

  “Is that Evie?” she asked and her eyebrows arched with pleasant surprise.

  “Yes . . That’s Evie,” he answered and frowned . . “I didn’t know you two had met.”

  “We haven’t, but she sounds nice on the phone. We often have a little chat when she phones you. We like the same perfume too.”

  Wills took the umbrella and smiled back, with a far-away look in his eye. It didn’t take much in common for women to make friends over the telephone . . he thought. Why aren’t men like that? ‘I drink draught bitter, do you? Oh! You do. Well you must be a friend of mine. We have such a lot in common.’

  The taxi drew up in the middle of his philosophical conclusions and he flew out to meet Evie, struggling with the umbrella catch to get it open, which he did at last, after getting himself soaked in the process.

  “Wills . . Are you alright? Mr. Deacon telephoned me earlier and . . .”

  “It’s O.K. Darling. Don’t get wet. Let’s get into the office quickly.”

  He felt in his back pocket for his wallet, but the taxi driver pushed his ‘engaged’ sign down and waved his hand.

  “Covered in office expenses, Sir,” he shouted, “Have a nice day.”

  He sped off whistling as Wills shook the umbrella dry and Evie stood inside the Reception doorway.

  “Hello Evie. I’m Mandy . . Nice to see you at last.”