Chapter 15

Reg stared at his mother, unbelievingly.

“Mum? Since when were you a good cook? And at home, I did most of the housework, didn’t I?”

She fell back on another excuse. “I had to offer, didn’t I?”

“A nice thought, Mum, but we have a better solution than any of our mothers. These girls are looking for such work, and their parents need to know that they will be in a reliable household. They are both trained cooks and keen to display their commitment to our household, so we get the best combination. In addition, their salaries will be subsidised by all of our parents who can afford to contribute, so we can afford their services. It is a good deal for us, Mum, so be happy for us, eh?”

Her face looked unhappy as he started to explain, but then, when she understood that she did not have to contribute anything, she relaxed and gave him a smile.

“That sounds fine, Reg, but if there is anything I can help with, just let me know. I want to be useful, if I can.”

“I know, Mum. We are happy to do it this way. I am not sure any married man would want his mother involved in running his household. You didn’t expect YOUR mother to come and help run your household, did you?”

She became aware that at no time did she have her own mother helping with the young Reg, and that had been her own choice, based on the bad relationship she had with her mother, so she could not complain about his choice. She returned to a bemused silence.

Frances stuck her own oar in, with a touch of venom.

“The twins are younger, fitter, and better-looking as well, Mum, so not much to choose between!” Then she relented. “Actually, Mum, we never thought of you, in the circumstances. This was mostly to help the girls get a first job and get some basic experience of working for someone, so it was never an either/or. Please accept that we have nothing against you, and would like to be your friends for the future.”

Mrs Robertson felt a tear come to her eye.

“Thank you, Frances, for being kind to an old woman.”

Prudence intruded to tell her, “It is a new situation for all of us, Mum, so we are adapting as fast as we can. Enjoy your Christmas here. That’s the plan for all of us!”

Once Mrs Robertson was fully settled in and becoming more familiar with the large home of the Gower family, she agreed to come with the others to the watch-night service. “The only times I ensure I get to church is at Easter and Christmas, so I would feel left out if I couldn’t manage to go.”

The Gowers also decided to attend, and with the church being a mile and a half distant, three carloads were organised, with Mrs Robertson traveling with the Gowers. They left in plenty of time, and found an entire pew that they filled. Everyone sang lustily during the services, as all the carols were known to them, and the familiar story was read from the scriptures.

By the time the service ended well after midnight, all the congregation were wishing each other ‘happy Christmas’ as they left for home. The priest recognised Mr and Mrs Gower, and Mr Gower told him that the others were his visitors. The pastor said he hoped to see them in the morning, and they acknowledged their intention to be present.

Once out into the dark again, they entered the cars for the run home.

As they approached the house, they found flashing lights at the gates. It was a couple of police cars, and they were flagged down. A policeman approached Mr Gower’s car, to speak to him.

“Mr Gower? Sergeant Tomlinson. We were called out by your alarm system. We shall need you to establish if it was a false alarm, or whether you have intruders.”

“Can I see your identification, please?” he asked, and the policeman produced his warrant card. Mr Gower took it and held on to it. “Just a moment, please. I have to confirm that you are who you say you are.”

The police sergeant frowned, but waited patiently while Mr Gower made his call to the local police station, and asked for an identity check.

The response was positive, so he told the waiting policeman as he handed back the I.D. card, “We can enter now. I can over-ride the system, which will be on lock-down, but my override only acts a step at a time, so that any burglars will remain trapped where they are until we get there. Can I have yourself and two constables with me, so that we can check each area in turn?”

He went off to the house with his entourage, leaving the others to sit in the cars outside. One of the police cars was parked across the gateway, so the short procession walked to the house and began their careful survey.

Twenty minutes later, the policemen returned with two teenage boys in handcuffs. The boys looked stunned by what had happened to them, seemingly fearful as they were placed inside separate police cars for transport to the police station for interview.

Mr Gower came along behind them, a big grin on his face as he spoke to his guests in the cars.

“The system worked perfectly. It allows you to pass the first barriers, but once you enter a lock-down section, it activates the alarms here and at the police station, and closes all the security locks on doors and windows. We found these lads sitting in a locked room waiting for us to come and release them. They hadn’t even picked up any loot, as they knew they were scuppered. It will be a sad Christmas for them, but in turn I shall have to phone my security people to come and check how they entered, and review our security plan for the future.”

Reg asked, “Is this a private security firm you are talking of, sir?”

He responded, “No, they will be men from my own company. We run our own security for all our premises.”

“ALL, sir? You have a number of premises?”

“Perhaps I said more than I should have, Reg. Let’s just say that senior personnel each have their homes made secure. Okay?”

“Yes, sir. I shall stop asking questions.”

Christmas morning seemed surreal. Early on, there was the fun and excitement of the present opening, the many ‘thank-you’s, breakfast, then preparation for going back to the church of the Christmas morning service. While they were getting ready, Mr Gower got a phone call, said “O. K.”, and then about fifteen minutes later, an unmarked white van arrived and was admitted to the front of the house. A couple of men in white overalls got out and were welcomed at the door by Mr Gower. He then took them to his private study and the door was locked behind them.

Mrs Gower grimaced, but told the others, “Time to get ready to go to church, folks. I will drive this time. Daddy is going to be busy for a while.”

The service was a cheerful affair, with the local children taking part in acting scenes from the Nativity, and then singing the carol ‘Away in a manger’. The sermon was mercifully brief and to the point, to suit the children.

After the service the priest tried to engage them all in conversation. “You are all guests of Mr and Mrs Gower? How nice.”

Mrs Gower told him, “Yes. You will remember my Prudence? These are her friends Frances, Freda and Erika. This is my son-in-law, Reginald Robertson, and his mother who arrived yesterday to join us for Christmas. I do so like when families can get together, don’t you?”

The priest found himself with nothing to say, so he merely put in, “I hope you all have a nice time. Thank you for visiting our church. Perhaps we will see you again.”

They escaped then, and were soon back at the house. The white van had been moved to one side of the house, so as to be out of the family’s way, and neither of the men, nor Mr Gower, were in evidence.

They got inside the house, and Prudence’s father appeared from his study a moment later, having observed their arrival via his security system.

“Hello. Did you all enjoy the service? Sorry I could not join you. My men are still working on the system, tweaking it a bit here and there to suit my requirements. You will be pleased, Reg, to hear that when any vehicle or person appears at the gateway, I will get a signal to tell me to view the monitor, so I can yea or nay the visitor.”

“Sounds like good planning, sir. Pleased to hear what you have done. Any idea why these teenagers broke in?” His father-in-law glanced at him, surprised at the question. “Christmas, Reg! When is the best time to find new things lying around, just for the taking – all these Christmas presents? The police get inundated with break-ins in the last few days before 25th December, and on the day itself, if the house is empty, such as that Christmas Eve service. Why did a clever lad like you have to ask?” Then as he saw Reg’s crestfallen face, realised what the problem was: His mother’s house would never be such a target, so he had never had to consider such a crime. It was time to get off the subject, he reckoned.

He grunted noncommittally, then said, “About time we started celebrating Christmas Day. Anyone got any dietary phobias before we finalise our dinner menu? We are treating lunchtime today as our big dinner event. You can all snooze afterwards if you want. Some of you may not be fully over the flu yet.”

It was quickly clarified that there was no major dietary difficulty for anyone, and Mrs Gower collared Reg’s wives as the kitchen team. Any girl who was not already useful in the kitchen would soon be taught, it was made clear to them. Holly and Carol would have all the kitchen help they needed after this, it seemed.

Mr Gower explained that his security men were now tidying up, and would be leaving shortly. “They have their own homes to get to, but they will be well paid for today’s task. As soon as they have left, Reg, you and your mother can sit down with me and have a quiet drink. I am sure your mother will appreciate sitting down to Christmas dinner without preparing it.”

She did, and shortly she had another sherry in her hand, sipping it slowly. Prudence’s father poured himself a Chivas Regal and asked Reg what his tipple was. Reg looked embarrassed and said, “I was never a drinker, sir. I have never had the money to experiment with alcohol, and my Mum didn’t keep much in the house, either. A light wine would be fine, if you have a Sauvignon, a Riesling, or a Chardonnay.” His mother blinked in surprise at this display of her son’s knowledge. Mr Gower took it in his stride.

“Riesling, we have. I’ll fetch a glass for you, and the bottle can go on the table for later. I thought you said you weren’t a drinker, Reg?”

“It is true, sir. My ladies have been educating me on wines, for any social event we happen to attend, so that I will not look too stupid. I am willing to see what your Riesling tastes like.”

Mr Gower grinned. “I like your approach, careful and cautious, getting to know your wines. Sauvignon Blanc is very drinkable, especially with seafood, poultry or salads, so you should try it when you can. Chardonnay is particularly good with fish or chicken dishes. The Riesling is good with fish, chicken or pork dishes, so all your suggestions are certainly reliable at the table; and the Riesling is perfect for today.”

“I will remember that, sir. Thank you.”

Mrs Robertson had been paying attention to her sherry, being a trifle withdrawn and introspective. She noticed a gap in the conversation Reg had been having with their host, she decided to show some interest in her benefactors.

“Mr Gower, what do you do for a living, that you can afford such a big house and that big car you sent? Or did you inherit the money?”

She didn’t notice Reg stiffening at the question, but Mr Gower simply gave a short laugh and told her, “I am involved with a company that supplies specialist staff to our clients, Betty. It pays me well, and it supplied the car that fetched you. How is your sherry? Is it to your liking?”

“It is a very nice sherry, Mr Gower.”

He admonished her, “Please call me Derek, Betty. This is a family occasion, so first names should be the norm, eh?”

“Oh, sorry, sir – ah, Derek. Do you have any vacancies for ladies not in the first flush of their youth?”

“Ah. I should perhaps repeat a word concerning our company, Betty. The word is ‘specialist’: people with specific and valuable talents, knowledge or experience. I suspect you do not fit in to that specific category, do you?”

“I suppose not, Derek. You would be looking for people with university degrees, and such?”

“There you are, Betty. You understand. You are not just a pretty face!” he said with a smile.

She dimpled at this compliment, but disingenuously said, “Unlike Reg’s girls, eh?”, meriting a shocked “What?” from Reg. “Mum, take care how you speak of my wives. These girls are beautiful, each in their own way, even if their faces are not model-perfect. You are taking them at face value; something one should never do. People are individuals, many with great personalities. I am lucky to have found four of these remarkable girls.”

Derek looked across at Reg with pleasure. This was a young man with perspective; Prudence HAD made a good choice, he affirmed to himself.