Jane Forxworthy Page 15
He paused again and his eyes stared straight ahead, over the heads of the ageing gathering before him, but before he looked away, he brought his gaze steadily to the culprit who thought to bring the male anatomy into his grievance . . . The man coughed and looked away, but the grumbling got louder and louder until there was a stamping of feet in defiance and protest of what Wills had said. It was Mark McLean who stood up and thumped his fist hard down on the table, calling for order.
“Let Mr. Slade speak, gentlemen. We cannot decide whether or not his proposals will have any effect until we have heard what he has to say.”
The noise subsided; the foot stamping stopped and the grumbling faded. Wills continued.
“Thank you Mr. McLean. Gentlemen, if we are to take a larger share of the cake . . larger by far than we are allowed or entitled, for that matter, then someone, somewhere will get nothing . . . .and I’m sure you will agree with that. We are paying ridiculous prices for the most inferior materials and one day soon . . very soon, in fact, this action will show itself for what it is. Now we all KNOW why this is happening, so don’t try to tell me that you don’t and if any of you are saying quietly to yourself . . It’s so an so . . but not me, then by your silence and lack of initiative, you are equally guilty. Silence, they say is golden, but a conspiracy of silence can be evil. You can only draw out from the bank, what you have paid into it . . and not a penny more, without penalty and we have several very large contracts that are being subsidised with third rate materials and shoddy tools. The quality of our work with D.&H. has always been our pride of name. No other Company is more respected for the standard of their work, neither here in Scotland nor in England, but our work of late . . . in the past two years, I would say, has been nothing more than a game . . and don’t you think we are getting a little too old for playing such games? We are building on sand and cheap sand at that. . . . and from where I see things we couldn’t find it cheaper if we tried. . . . and we all know what that means. Oh! Yes, the finished product might look good. The contract may have the appearance of our high standard D & H practice . . . but is it? Some of you here know what I’m getting at and I don’t need to name names, or spell it out for you. We have been buying the cheapest and selling it at the largest profit . . and not so that the Company will benefit greatly either . . . D & H have never worked in this way, but so that some of you can retire early with a fat pension and a sound bank balance, through your own scheming devices, you are prepared to let luck take its course and I say THIS IS WRONG . . . and this way of doing things will backfire on you sooner than you think.
Now I am here, because Mr. Deacon asked me to come here . . not because I chose to come, as I have already said, but I’ll tell you now, for what it’s worth and you can take it or leave it . . what is being done here and again I will stress, not by all . . but by many, is shameful to my way of thinking. You are cheating on a man . . on his Company that puts the bread of your tables and this is the way you thank him. . . .”
There was a shuffling sound as some of the listeners moved uncomfortable where they sat.
“We don’t know what you’re talking about,” shouted one of the men, “And how did old Deacon know that what you are talking about is going on here? . . That’s what I want to know.”
Wills looked closely at the face of the man who had stood up to speak.
“Oh! Mr. Steel . . I didn’t recognise you immediately. None of us look the same when we’re out of our working clobber, eh?” Wills addressed the Foreman of the Warehouse and everyone laughed. The tension was beginning to break. “I cannot say how or why he knew what was going on, but I have investigated and I can prove that things are not what they should be and I can supply any of you with his written authority for what I have done, if you care to wait behind after this meeting is closed.”
“Was this person who gave Mr. Deacon this inside information a member of the Scottish staff, Mr. Slade?” another man shouted from the back row.
Wills took a sip from his glass of water.
“I am sorry, I cannot answer that question.” he replied softly.
“Is he here with us now . . this stool pigeon?” asked another and Wills narrowed his eyes and smiled.
“No comment Sir,” he answered dryly and there was another undertone of grumbling. “But this I will say . . Mr. Deacon’s instruction to me was that no action was to be taken if this matter is resolved immediately, as I have already said. He also wishes me to add that names will not be recorded regarding this issue and there will be no recriminations, but only if we act now. He is most anxious to keep the Scottish part of the business open and as active as ever. He is very proud of you and I would have thought you would have realized that, but this incident has caused him great disappointment . . after all, he could close this plant down and any others also and where would you be then. Some of you might be alright, but many of you would not be able to get another job because of your age. I say again ‘don’t bite the hand that feeds you’ . . . ‘don’t kill the goose that lays the golden egg . .’ Finally, let me tell you that I have the authority to lift the telephone now and give him my decision . . based upon yours, of course. It’s entirely up to you. I have to stay here for a full twelve months but my duties of investigation are over whenever I receive your answer. Those of you who have been . . indiscreet, know that you have been so and those of you who are innocent have nothing to fear, but to the few who are responsible for this fiasco, I say . . DON’T BRING THE COMPANY DOWN . . .”
Wills studied the eyes of guilt as he looked around and the meeting went on for another hour where questions were thrown at him and he answered them with a knowledge and a conviction that he never knew he had. When eventually the meeting came to a close, he was able to telephone London and tell Mr. Deacon that Scotland wished to continue under the rules of the Company.
It had taken him six months to get his mission accomplished with satisfaction and the next six months of his stay was to ensure that there would be no relapse.
***
He drove home that evening exhausted, but utterly content . . and somehow the moon seemed lazier and softer that it had appeared before. The dewy grass was greener, even in the shade of the lunar gleam and the naked trees swayed in the wind to the sound of distant Christmas bells from the old church spire in the village. All the world seemed to be at peace at last for Willson Slade as his wheels crackled merrily and triumphantly through the brittle lanes that led to the warmth and love waiting for him at ‘Brigadoon’ . . .
Chapter Eighteen
“CONGRATULATIONS DARLING. I’m so happy for you.”
Evie hugged Wills as he came through the door with his news, but even before he spoke, she knew that he had won the day. He had worked so hard and so diligently . . and she knew there could have been no other outcome, despite the telephone calls and the enmity that still persisted wherever they went. There was a glint in her husband’s eye and she knew that sparkle of old. It told her everything she wanted to know . . . that her husband was happy.
“Tell me everything during dinner, Sweetheart. I’m just dying to hear all your news,” she said, adding that she had made his special favourite sauce for the turkey, after which she disappeared into the kitchen and Wills tripped upstairs to divest himself of his trade trappings of the day and get into something more comfortable. He re-emerged soon after, with his hands behind his back, hovering boyishly and very romantically behind Evie’s back as she basted her roast potatoes.
“An early Christmas present Darling. Close your eyes.”
Evie giggled and did as she was told, remembering the days of their engagement when this was a regular feature between them . . the closing of eyes, the surprise presents, sometimes not very expensive but always lovely . . and the kissing that always followed. They were in the eighth year of their marriage and they had been rather lean years, where their presents to each other were qui
te probably very insignificant to anyone other than themselves, but each gift had something special in that time of loving. Wills took Evie’s hand and slipped the solitaire diamond ring onto her slender finger.
“Willson Slade. . . You are the most romantic and beautiful person I have ever known. I love you . . . It’s . . It’s simply beautiful. Thank you Darling.”
He put his finger to her lips as she was about to continue.
“Yes . . We can afford it . . . I’m starving and those potatoes will smell delicious, I know they will.”
Evie clung to him and the warmth of her body excited him. “Gosh! You make me feel randy woman . . just bein’ near you. D’ya know that? Couldn’t we start on those potatoes now?”
She listened eagerly but ignored his comments with more kisses. She had plenty of time. Dinner wasn’t due for at least another hour and she studied her watch to make sure of the time.
“I’ll have to buzz down to the village and get some plonk . . I see we’re nearly out and I didn’t think when I was at the office,” he said and threw his old well-worn and loved jacket over his shoulders. “Didn’t I hear you say that Mark would be here for dinner this evening Darling?”
“Yes Sweetheart . . about 7.0 if that’s alright.”
“That will be fine. If you see him in the pub, tell him I’m making his special. The one he likes so much. . . . and tell him not to drink too much or to keep you chatting.”
“Oh! So you two have a special menu, have you?”
Evie laughed.
“It’s just something his mother used to make him, before he got married and I think it might be appropriate for all the support he has given us since we came here. Don’t you? Bye Darling . . Be good.”
He was about to get into the car, when he ran back again to the house and whispered something in her ear which made her giggle again.
“Do you have a premonition then?” she asked, wickedly.
“Twins at least, “ he answered.
***
Evie was delighted with her husband’s success and proud that he was able to do what he had set out to do and with so much mastery of the situation. Now, at last, she felt they would be free of those obnoxious phone calls. Someone must have egg all over his face this evening, she thought . . . . or could it be her face. She watched Wills drive off with a wider than usual grin all over his face as he waved to her and put his two fingers in the air.
“If I didn’t know what you were thinking, Wills Slade,” she shouted after him, “I’d say you were being very rude.”
He laughed.
“TWINS, . . I promise . . “ he shouted back at her and disappeared.
***
She had spent a good part of that afternoon wondering what had happened to Danny and feeling rather disappointed that she hadn’t arranged the picnic for her that she had in mind, but firmly resolved to make a return visit to the McPherson residence the following day as she prepared the table for dinner that evening..
***
“Hello Darling. I’ve brought a thin little waif with me, who says he’s starving and could you let him have a crust or two . . .”
Evie’s face beamed a welcome to their visitor as he came towards her with a large bunch of flowers.
“Welcome Mark. Oh! You shouldn’t have done this, but I must say, they are beautiful and they smell lovely too. Thank you. I’ll just pop them into a vase while you and Wills help yourselves to a drink before dinner.” “My nose tells me there’s something delicious in the oven Evie . . Is it what I think it is?” Mark held his head in the air and closed his eyes to savour the delicious aroma from the kitchen. Evie grinned.
“I hope so but I wouldn’t dare compete with your dear mother. . “ she said and Mark laughed as Wills poured the aperitifs.
“He’ll love it Sweetheart. He has an appetite like a horse, has this one here . . I don’t know how he keeps so slim.”
Evie reappeared in the dining room, rubbing her hands against her apron.
“Oh! so you’ve noticed that too, have you? Well, I’ll have to keep my eye on you two, won’t I?”
Wills pulled a face and made an attempt to explain.
“Well, when you look at me, he’s slim . . isn’t he. Just look at my belly.”
Evie closed her eyes and smiled.
“I’d rather not, Darling,” she said, “Well not before dinner . . .” Wills pushed his stomach out and let his muscles go limp as Evie touched his bulge tenderly with her warm hands. “Wish it was I who looked like that Darling,” she whispered in his ear as he pulled her close and cuddled her.
“Darling, I feel so relaxed after that ‘battle’ maybe we’ll have an early night and . . .”
Evie blushed.
“Darling . . Not in front of visitors,” she said in a low voice, hoping that she hadn’t been heard, but Mark raised his eyebrows and grinned.
“Oh! I can take my dinner into the garden, if you two want to hold hands . . or anything,” he chuckled, “I’d hate to be a gooseberry.”
“Take no notice of him Mark. He’s being rude . . You couldn’t take him anywhere, could you?”
“Evie . . I think it’s wonderful. If only Angela and I had been like you two . . .” he sighed and then a great smile crossed his face as Evie brought the dinner from the kitchen. “My mother has nothing on you Evie. This smells delicious . . “
“Wills . . Will you carve Darling?” she said and her husband sharpened his knife in his own inimitable way before he did the honours.”Would you have liked to have had children Mark?” Evie put her question forward, ignoring the warning glare that Wills gave her as he stopped carving for a moment.
“Take no notice of Evie, Mark. She should not be so inquisitive. Evie, I’ve told you about this . .” he scolded gently but his eyes were serious.
“Oh! I don’t mind at all what Evie asks, Wills. Of course I would have loved children. Most men would I guess, but it was not to be, that’s all.”
Evie was about to apologise, even if she had her next question ready, when the telephone rang. It startled her for a moment and she held her breath as she stared at Wills with frightened eyes.
Wills excused himself from the table and put his hand up to let Evie know that he would take the call, as he walked slowly towards the telephone, muttering some obscenities in a low voice as he went.
“It’s alright Darling The camp’s at peace now. All that nonsense will have stopped . . you’ll see. Glenfarach 974 . . Hello . . .”
He stood rigidly still for a few seconds with the telephone in his hand and without saying a word, before his face became firm and stern as he replaced the receiver. Evie was concerned.
“What is it Darling? Is everything alright?” she enquired impatiently. Wills took her in his arms and brushed her hair with his lips as he closed his eyes and murmured, quite oblivious to the fact that Mark was there with them.
“It was a . . a man, Evie.” was all he said and she pulled herself away from his embrace to study the look in his eye.
“A man? What man? What did he say?” she asked nervously and her lips began to tremble.
Wills looked at Mark and then back to Evie. There was pain in his eyes.
“He said nothing Darling . . He just laughed. It was a mad, hysterical laugh. An . . an inhuman scream . . . Yes, that’s what it was . . . like the tormented screeching of some wild animal.”
Evie clasped her hand to her mouth.
“Oh! My God no . . I thought you had resolved all this,” she cried.
Chapter Nineteen
EVIE WALKED SLOWLY PAST MISS FOXWORTHY’S SHOP, trying not to look too conspicuous. She could see Cynthia from where she stopped to look into the shop window and she appeared to be on her own, leaning across the counter reading something or other with her hair dan
gling down across her face. It shook slightly as she chewed on her gum and she pulled at a lank strand of mousy hair. Evie waited a few moments before she made her entrance, knowing that the bell would announce her arrival and knowing too, that Cynthia couldn’t have cared less. She would lift her head whenever she felt ready . . bell or no bell.
“Good morning Cynthia,” Evie made her greetings before she realized her error, since all her previous resolutions were to wait until Cynthia greeted her first. She forced a smile but the shop assistant gazed through her when she did eventually look up, as if she didn’t see her. Evie was tempted to wave her hand sarcastically in front of the girl’s eyes, but she knew that even that method of diversion would have little or no effect. Cynthia had ‘A’ levels in ignorance and she concluded there and then that Cynthia whatever-her-name-was . . was as thick as two planks.
“Can you tell me if young Danny has been in lately?” she asked trying to appear light-hearted and carefree, but Cynthia simply continued to stare until a large bubble appeared between her lips and she blew the gum until it popped. Another one followed, larger than the first before she folded the white sticky solution back into her wet mouth with her tongue. “Danny . . You know Danny. The young girl from the farm up the road. Mr. McPherson’s little girl. Wears a cap most of the time. . .” Evie went on, but Cynthia continued to chew and to blow her bubbles as she turned another page in the magazine she had been reading . . or studying the pictures. . . without looking up.
“You mean the Dummy, don’t ye? Could ‘ave been in I s’pose,” the girl retorted and continued to swing her gum around, inside her mouth. Evie could feel her temper rising and her knuckles showed white.
“Well . . Was she . .. or wasn’t she?” she demanded.