A Fall to Grace
Chapter 20

Copyright© 2017 by Kaffir

Terry ate the sandwich and apple that Grace had left out for him and then wondered about studying. Part of him said he ought to but then his tutor’s words came back to him and he was feeling pretty whacked. He kicked off his shoes and went to lie down for half an hour.

Three and a half hours later Grace woke him with a soft kiss.

“You’re home early.”

“No, my love. It’s half past five.”

“Blimey! I must have been out for three or more hours.”

“Good! You needed to be. Now, my one, go and wash the sleep out of your eyes and I’ll have a cuppa ready for you.”

Terry pulled her head down the necessary two inches and kissed her gently. “Thank you, my love, my precious love.”

That meant Grace had to kiss him again but it was still gentle and no more than lips to lips.

Terry did what he was told and Grace did indeed have a cuppa waiting for him.

“So tell me, my one. What happened today?”

He told her including the fact that Gareth had been indefinitely suspended.

“Wow! Do you think you’ll be?”

“No. I offered no violence and was turning away from him when he hit me.”

“Good! You’re totally blameless. I’ll bet there’s some fun in the Owen household this evening.”

“Not taken. It’s a dead cert, I reckon.”

Owen Davies arrived home shortly after six and having hugged and kissed his wife asked whether Gareth was home.

“Yes. He’s in his room. He’s been suspended indefinitely for hitting another student. Apparently he’s been given a restraining order by the Magistrate’s Court.”

“Yes. It was sent via the office and I read it. I’m going to have a word with him.”

“Yes, dear. Don’t be too hard on him.”

“I won’t until I’ve got the full story but, from what I’ve read in the supporting statements to the restraining order, he’s been throwing his weight about again. He needs cutting down to size.”

“Oh!”

Owen pulled her to him. “Don’t worry, my love. He is my son and I love him but he’s got to learn to behave even if it hurts all three of us a bit.”

“Yes, Owen love.”

Owen went upstairs, knocked on Gareth’s door and walked in. Gareth was lying fully dressed on the top of his bed.

“You’ve been suspended, I hear. Why?”

“For hitting another student.”

“Why did you do that?”

“He was insolent.”

“Really? Tell me more.”

“He’s a fellow member of the choir and has found himself a very attractive girl friend. He’s been off sick so when I saw him yesterday I greeted him and he wouldn’t speak to me despite my trying to talk to him. He finally turned away so I grabbed his jacket turned him back and hit him for being rude and insolent.”

“What’s his name?”

“Terry Wilson.”

“And you greeted him by name.”

“No his nickname.”

“What’s that?”

“Lover Boy.”

“And he didn’t like that?”

“No.”

“Nor did his girlfriend, I gather.”

“She wasn’t there.”

“No but she was when you spoke to her after choir practice last Tuesday and called him that. I gather she didn’t like that.”

Gareth shrugged.

“Nor did she like it when you followed her in your car.”

“What?”

“She and Terry Wilson have taken a restraining order out against you.”

“What?”

“Read that!”

Owen thrust the restraining order at him. Gareth took it and started to read. He went white.

“Furthermore, as a result of your little fracas today the police are investigating that.”

“The Dean warned me.”

“So, even if you were unaware of the restraining order you’re in big trouble.”

“Yes.”

“Right! Now you listen to me, my boy. You’re my son so I will do my best to support you through whatever happens.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

Owen appeared not to register that. “Despite that, you have behaved like an over-weaning spoilt brat. You have used my success and local standing to try and impress other people and been over-bearing and conceited. To put it bluntly you’ve behaved like a little shit. Clear?”

He bellowed the last word.

Gareth nodded but remained silent, cowed by his father’s anger.

“Have you registered who Miss Ward is?”

“No, Dad,” was the whispered reply.

“Look at the restraining order again and note the two addresses given for her.”

“Flat 3...”

“The other one!”

“Wilkins Distribution.”

“Who have invited us to tender for an extension to their garages and possibly new ones. With her as Transport Manager do you think we stand a chance of winning that tender now?”

“Oh shit!”

“Why did you decide to go for a degree in Civil Engineering?”

The change of subject stalled Gareth for a moment.

“Um ... to be competent to take over from you in due course and possibly expand.”

“With the way you’re behaving at the moment you’ll never take over from me. Your supercilious, bullying, too jolly pleased with yourself attitude would lose us customers immediately.”

Gareth said nothing; just bit his lip and looked down.

“Starting tomorrow you’re going to start working for the firm. Tom Griffiths is the foreman doing the glazing and decoration of a block of new flats at Conningsby Road. You’ll be joining him as a labourer.”

“But...”

“Yes you will. I’ve warned him off and you won’t be getting any favours as the boss’s son. You’re there to learn and to do as you’re told. Builders aren’t gentle people and if you start to pull the Dad thing you may find yourself flat on your back. So buckle to, do as your told and I’ll review things in six months’ time or when your suspension is lifted. You start at eight tomorrow morning. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Dad.”

“Good! I’ll help you all I can with the current police enquiries but I’m not going to throw my weight about. You brought it on yourself with your supercilious conceit.”

“Yes, Dad. I ... I’ve already been chucked from the choir. Mike rang earlier and said that Terry and Grace were withdrawing unless he got rid of me. Two were more important than one. Apparently they were doing a lot of practice against a recording on line as well.”

Owen nodded. “Serve you right.”

“Sorry, Dad.”

“Right! Well show me you’re worthy of running this business when I retire.”

“Yes, Dad.”

Owen left him and went back downstairs.

“Whew!” he said to his wife. “That wasn’t much fun but he took it well which says a lot for him. He’s going to be working under Tom Griffiths down at Conningsby Road which should keep him up to the mark and teach him a lesson or two, if only how to get on with people and forget he’s the boss’s son.”

“You think a lot of Tom, don’t you?”

“Yes. He knows what he’s doing. The lads respect him but he doesn’t stand any nonsense. He’ll keep Gareth in order but also teach him a lot. I’ve told him not to treat him as my son but as one of his workforce. He smiled knowingly.”

 
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