Thanks to LadyCibelle and my friend SH for sorting my foul-ups and editing for me. This story contains what is effectively a rape; the Author doesn't not condone such actions.
The reminder tone from my computer roused me from my book. Well I think it did, the book wasn't very good so I could well have been dozing.
That tone told me that it was twenty past four and very shortly Betty my secretary would be in with yet another cup of coffee; the last cup she'd bring me that day before she went home. Anyway I liked it to look like I was actually working whenever she popped into my office; it gave me my excuse for staying at the office until well after six every evening.
To be truthful there wasn't really much for me to do, the guys did almost everything; I just read a few reports and tried to look like I was busy when anyone looked in on me. Well it kept me occupied and out of the golf club until it was time for me to have dinner at seven thirty.
On cue a few seconds later there was a gentle tap on the door and then Betty came in carrying my coffee.
"You off now Betty?"
"Not quite Mr Wilbury, I'm afraid that Mrs Wilbury is outside and she wish's to see you. Shall I show her in?"
"Shit!" I replied.
Betty didn't flinch at the comment; I suspect it was what she expected to hear me say or something like it anyway.
"Yes please Betty, and you'd better bring her a coffee or something as well. Then you scoot off home, I don't want Bill or the children blaming me because their tea is late."
"Thanks John, I'll see you in the morning."
"If I'm still alive, that woman makes me want to commit hara-kiri."
"Oh, she's not that bad. She just seems to have a problem with you."
"You don't know the bitch like I do, Betty." I told her.
Betty smiled back at me, and then opening the door waved Mrs Helena Fordyce-Wilbury into my office asking her what she'd like as a beverage as she did so.
In the usual dismissive tone that she used to anyone she didn't consider her equal, Helena snapped. "Tea please, Earl Grey if you have it?"
With a smile, Betty was gone.
Helena stepped over to my desk and took a seat opposite me. Immediately I realised that something was troubling her; Helena was avoiding eye contact with me.
Now just because her name is Wilbury, I don't want anyone to go getting the idea that we were related. Well we were related but we aren't blood relatives or anything like that. Although, I suppose some folks might consider that we were, because Helena was my deceased brother's widow. Anyway I'm sure you understand what I'm getting at.
Where was I, I lost myself for a minute. Which isn't very surprising where Helena Fordyce-Wilbury is concerned, she's enough to send any levelheaded man into the nut house.
Christ, I had never been able to stand the sight of the woman. Eh ... all right, maybe a bit of an exaggeration, because Helena had a figure to die for and a very attractive face. But she was just about the biggest bitch it had ever been my misfortune to encounter.
The trouble was she had my brother mesmerised from the moment he clapped eyes on her. I can't say I could blame him, if she could keep that trap of hers shut for long enough at one time I'm sure I'd have been tempted as well. Not that the likes of me would ever get the chance to get into Helena's knickers.
I really suppose that I'd better go back to when I first ran into Helena Fordyce. I was in college back then and by the look of how I dressed and behaved I suppose most people would have considered me to have been a bit of a tearaway. Personally, at the time I figured that I was the local incarnation of Arthur Herbert Fonzarelli, the Fonz to most people. Like Fonzie I sported a tight pair of denims and a leather jacket. And I'm not blowing my own trumpet here when I say that I had no shortage of females volunteering to ride pillion on my Moto Guzzi. Yeah well, I was god's gift to the girls at my college and didn't I — and everyone else around town - just know it.
Okay so where does Helena Fordyce come into the equation, you ask. Well every street has two ends. I stood at one end, a down to earth handsome young man, and Helena stood at the other end. What's the nearest parallel I can draw? Oh yeah, you remember those flash moneyed birds in the film Clueless? Yeah well, take your pick Helena was a dead ringer for one of them, with one slight exception. Helena was a real looker; she dressed impeccably and very sexily, care of Daddy's credit card. But she was also exceedingly intelligent.
So bright in fact that she was the star turn at any student prize giving that she ever attended. Yeah well, I never did get invited to many of those kinds of do's. Except maybe for where - another part of the equation stepped in - my brother Brian was concerned. Brian had always been bright; nerdy type bright if you know what I mean.
Whereas I kind-a scraped by, by the seat of my pants; Brian waltzed through his education without having to work-up a sweat.
No one, and I mean absolutely no one, could ever have mistaken Brian for me. We didn't look like each other, he couldn't ride a motorbike to save his own life, and he was about as good with the females as your average brick. I'll get back to Brian later; let's get back to Helena and my history.
Well, I'd taken one look at Helena and figured that she'd look real good on the rear seat of my Guzzi. The problem was Helena had taken one look at my bike and realised that it wasn't a sports car. What's more, she considered that the guy sitting astride the thing was a complete moron. A conclusion that - with hindsight - I think she was most probably correct in coming to, at the time.
Yeah, I tried giving her all the old bull, but she wasn't about to fall for any of it, and extremely eloquently told me to sling my hook. I'd given it my best shot without success so I moved on to pastures new and more fertile.
Would I? Yeah any guy would have been a fool not to; man that girl had just about everything a randy little shit like me could want at the time. But there were other fish to fry that didn't call for me to suck up to a stuck-up bitch like Helena Fordyce.
As time passed I saw Helena around college and the town quite a bit. We never spoke, more like looked daggers at each other. You know what really pissed me off? If ever I looked her way the bitch would be staring back at me with a hateful expression in her eyes; I knew the bitch was making sarcastic remarks about me to her mates. Things went on like that right up until the day she vanished.
At the time I had no idea where she went and I didn't much care. Not for one second did I draw any comparison with the fact that my little brother Brian had gone off to University at about the same time.
On leaving college I'd found myself a job with what I thought was a property maintenance company. Not quite humping bricks around, but near enough. I was a kind of office boy come general dogsbody. But the old boy who owned the place kind-a took a shine to me.
It wasn't until I had actually got the job that I discovered we did maintenance of particular types of property, i.e. Banks and medium to high security installations. It was a pretty big surprise to me that I'd ever passed the vetting procedure. But then again, a bit of a Jack the lad with the ladies, I might have been; but besides a couple of traffic violations, I'd never been in trouble with the law.
Anyway I settled in and over the following few years became part of the organisation, not a big part, but a pretty important part because nearly all the paperwork — contracts, quotes, bills and the like eventually passed across my desk. But that was in the future; to start with I was everybody's dogsbody, but that had the advantage that I got to know all the grunts. You know, the guys that actually did carry the brick and got their hands dirty.
My brother Brian was away at university for three years. He did come home for the holidays and the like, not that I ever saw much of him. We'd always moved in different circles, it seemed even more so since he'd gone away to Uni. I did hear that he was dating a girl at Uni, but Brian was always pretty tight lipped about his love life. I don't know why, but I kind-a got the feeling he was scared that I'd steal his girlfriends from him.
I've no idea why I got that feeling, maybe I'd chatted up girls Brian had had his eye on when we were younger. But if I had it was never intentional. As I tried to explain earlier, I had the gift of the gab and most — but not all — eligible females seemed to fall at my feet. My little brother was a complete nerd.
But things had changed once I was in full time work. Just a few weeks after getting my job I'd met Catherine. They say that there's a woman for every man and as far as I was concerned Catherine was the one intended for me. Shortly after we started dating my beloved Motor Guzzi was consigned to the back of the garage to be replaced as my means of transport by a rather flash if very ancient Mercedes.
Damn thing cost an arm and a leg in service bills and drank the juice like it was going out of style, but it did have a very comfortable rear seat and plenty of room to party. Catherine loved that car and so did I.
.... There is more of this story ...