Chapter 8

The family conference-cum-business meeting started with surprise and ended with approval. There was a view among the women that babies notwithstanding, they needed to get work done, and trips to other towns were an adventure in themselves. In recent months their lives had been delineated by the budding lives inside them and then the new responsibilities afterwards, so that travel had been restricted to trips to university and the occasional church service. Parents had come to them, rather than they visiting their parents, so choosing to go on a business trip was a desirable break from home life

At first, when this was mentioned, Reg’s face fell, as it seemed that they were aching to get away from him and the babies, but Frances had anticipated his reaction and informed him during the meeting, “Husband, you should not restrict your wives in their participation in life outside the home. Your wives are partners in life, and you should be encouraging them to expand their physical horizons as well as their mental ones. You trust them, don’t you?”

Reg was stunned as he replied, “Frances, I have never even thought of NOT trusting them; it did not enter my head. I admit that my male ego took fright at their keenness to go on business trips, but I have realised that my subconscious patriarchal attitude should not prevail over our love for each other. What about the Robson ladies, Frances?”

“They want to take part, and their mother will be happy to look after the babies for a few days. You have to take some commercial baby milk to the farm, Reg, when the minivan is collecting them. We have some with us for emergencies, so you can have that for immediate use by Mrs Robson.

You should get that done as soon as possible.”

“I will attend to that, Frances, while you prepare their itinerary and order their car. In the meantime, I have a simple statement to make: Please go with my love, ladies!”

The group made their plans for the suspect stores of the chain, then hired the several cars needed for the long journeys, with either one or two stores allocated to each pair. Frances spoke to the company about calling the researchers for a TV programme, and got authorisations by email for each named pair to call on the store manager. The chain’s head office sent messages to the managers informing them of the ‘TV researchers’ calling on them, and they were to be given full disclosure of the store’s operation.

In the course of plotting where the failing stores were, it became noticeable that none were in big cities. In other words, the biggest stores were not exhibiting impending failure. That might be because their large throughput was hiding a proportionately smaller fraud, or that the larger stores were more efficiently managed, preventing fraud for happening, or lasting long without being halted.

Primed with what data the head office had sent about each store, the ladies drove off on their expeditions, leaving their offspring in the care of Sandra, their full-time babysitter. Reg went with the hire van driver and the two teens to the farm, taking the baby milk for Mrs Robson, and for the teens to have another visit with the farm animals. Once he had Hermione and Jemima set to leave, he would round up Sidra and Elizabeth and take them all back to Scarborough for the ladies to have their briefing from Frances before setting out on their own task.

Mrs Robson was a little daunted at having to care for two babies, but regarded it as a challenge. Her two daughters leaving on a business trip impressed her, and she questioned Reg at the doorway.

“Is it safe for them to do this job, Reginald?”

“Mrs Robson, your baby birds have already flown the nest. Let them demonstrate that they can fly very well now.”

She took this well, and Reg kissed her on a cheek before leaving.

“They will be fine: I had to accept their new personalities and love of real life, just as you do. I will make sure they report back to you.”

“Thank you, Reginald. I am depending on you. Goodbye.”

The driver had watched and listened to this exchange, and as Reg climbed aboard, commented. “That was nice of you, Mr Robertson.”

“Thank you, Tom. I have had to learn to be nice; it is not simple, but worthwhile when you get it.”

They got back to the hotel without anything other than Jemima saying to Hermione, “I am starting to miss my baby already, sis.”

“Impossible. You regularly leave her to sleep for hours at a time. This is your mind telling you that you should miss her, nothing more. Mum will look after them both with all the love she has. We always knew she had that love, but didn’t acknowledge it until we left with Reg. You have to leave your worries behind, and concentrate on the investigation ahead of us.”

Reg added, “Yes. Start thinking about how you would steal money from a store if you were the fraudster; how would you go about it?”

Jemima went quiet for a while, then tendered, “It would depend on what position I held at the store. You have to be high up in the pecking order to be able to do anything.”

Hermione grudgingly accepted her little sister’s opinion. “That sound about right. It makes the choices less. We have to see how each of the senior staff interacts with the finances of the store. Most stories are pretty well automated, so someone on the till can only get away with minor theft. To make a major impact on the store’s finances, you have to be doing something what means a lot of cash disappearing. This means either the store manager is in on a scam, or he is not seeing it happen under his eyes. It would be easiest if he was not very familiar with the computer data. Am I right about that, Reg?”

“Yes. I am continually surprised at how many senior people in an organisation leave the details to those further down the tree. Think of how many top managers depend on their secretaries to keep them straight on their work tasks. Then if they want to know what is going on at a lower level, they call in the under-manager or head of department to tell them how the organisation of company is doing, day by day.

You can think of the store manager in that position: depending on others to run the system, while he makes policy decisions. That is probably the situation in each store that we are querying. The trick is to let him or her think you are there to make him look good. We decided to announce you as TV researchers, all of you. Apparently you will be collecting data to use in a TV programme about a grocery chain. The manager will want to impress you with his efficiency in running a tight show, but it will be all bluster, fluff aimed at you. You look below it, at what is actually happening in the store. In town, it didn’t take long for our ladies to see that the footfall and the spending levels suggested a profitable operation. If it wasn’t adhering to that pattern, someone was milking the system. It was then a matter of finding where the draining was happening. In Scarborough, it was fictitious staff payments. You might find it is payments for goods, supplies, or even maintenance charges. Perhaps two firms are being paid for supplying a service, but one is fictitious, there solely for the computer’s financial records. As long as a service is being supplied, the manager has no need to look for a second one in the computer. Most of the entries will just be a company name and amount under a heading of maintenance or supplies or equipment. Every store has freezers that have to be kept operating to legal temperature norms, equipment like flatbed trolleys that has to be replaced before it wears out, potholes in the car parking to be repaired before they cause an accident, grass cut and flower beds weeded, gutters cleaned out regularly to avoid water ingress into the store. There are a myriad of payments that store has to make, and the more regular they are, the less they get examined: it is a regular payment, and as long as it remains regular, there is obviously no problem to look into. Just if one is a fake firm in the books.

Do what Freda did with the other stores. Get another member of staff who knows the details, to tell you about each supplier of good or services, until they claim not to know a particular firm. That is what you are looking for. Remember there may be more than one example, so don’t stop when you find a firm that nobody knows.

Then you have to reveal who is the person inserting the fake data. They may have done it a year or two back, and the cash is slowly siphoning out of the store. They are probably still on the staff, to prevent a new appointment going through all the records in detail.

Remember you are not there to collar the culprit; that is the store’s job. You collect the facts and compile your report for the head office. If the manager is an innocent dupe, you might be able to inform him of your discovery AFTER you have sent in your report – so he can’t claim to have discovered the fraud himself. I he is complicit, or appears to be, you include that observation in your report and head office can take it from there.

Ah, we are nearly at the hotel. Frances will give you all the basic data we have been given. Whoever is not driving the car on the way there can study the data and look for clues.”

The pair had listened intently to Reg’s verbal instruction manual, and taken it all in. Jemima had said not a word about her baby during the trip into town, so had probably lost her anxiety fears.

Frances welcomed the two back to the fold, and took them off for their briefing about the one or two stores that they were to check out, tell them about their accommodation and food choices and payment cards.

The next day, Reg and Frances found themselves alone apart from the babysitter with her batch of babies to look after, and Jessica to prepare for getting out of hospital. Sidra and Elizabeth were given free rein to explore the borough’s attractions now that they were happy with their mother’s recovery.

At least, at first. When Frances phone Jessica at the hospital and mentioned this, Jessica reacted badly.

“NO, Frances. My Sidra must not go unprotected! And the same applies to Elizabeth, for I don’t want her to be shocked back into hating herself if she encounters bad people.”

Frances took a mental pace back.

“Okay, Jessica. WE’ll do it your way. How about we let them wander as they want, but Reg and myself walk a distance behind them, ready to step in if anything looks dangerous?”

Jessica’s voice calmed.

“Sorry if I seem ultra-cautious, Frances. I still worry about my ex-husband finding us. Sidra has the Pakistani colouring that makes her stand out if most of the other visitors are white. Then if there was anything that drew the girls to the attention of the media, that might be dangerous in itself.”

“I am with you, Jessica. I had assumed that worry had vanished, but as you say, it is best to be safe now rather than sorry afterwards. You are happy if we do what I suggested?”

“Yes. They will be safe with you and Reg to look after them at a distance. Please let them know they are safe, so they don’t worry if they meet boys they dislike.”

“And what do the doctors say about you getting out?”

“Because I don’t live locally and will be travelling home before long, they are insisting on another day of recuperation here. I can certainly do with the rest, Frances. I am not as young as I was when I had Sidra.”

With that settled, Frances sought the girls as they were getting ready to go out, excited looks on their faces.

“Girls, I have to pass on a message from your mother before you go out on the town. She still has fears about her ex-husband still searching for you, Sidra, and worries about Elizabeth as well, so she has asked Reg and myself to chaperone you – but at a distance! The idea is that you do what you want, and we will stay back out of the way. It is only if there is any sign of danger that we will step in, such as a gang of boys bothering you or calling you names. For your own part, if you get worried, all you have to do is raise an arm straight up, and that will be the signal for us to come to you.”

Sidra asked for confirmation, “You will let us go our own way all the time; just be on hand if we want or need help?”

“Yes. We trust you, but Jessica wants you to have protection near by.”

“Yeah, I understand. With a new baby, she is over-protective at the moment, but we can live with that, can’t we, Elizabeth?”

Elizabeth surprised her by saying, “Actually, I will feel happier, knowing they are around for us, Sidra. This is a place I don’t know, and I might get lost and meet the wrong people. It is not just the locals, but all the visitors. Some of them might accost two teenagers on their own.”

“Hey, that is true, Elizabeth. You are very ‘with it’ today, and I am being too blasé. Okay, Frances, we’ll go along with your plan. You are happy to leave the babysitter with all the children?”

“Yes. It is only a couple of hours or so. She is capable enough.”

Reg was notified of the agreed procedure, and got himself ready to join them. Shortly the girls had decided where they wanted to go first and by what route. Their target was the harbour and the sea life centre. The weather remained mild, so coats were not needed, but Reg dug into his baggage in his room and produced a short truncheon and a holder for attaching it to his belt. Frances was shocked.

“Reg, where did that come from, and why?”

“The last time I was here, I could only use my hands to defend Jessica and the Robson girls. If I had been able to fend off an attack with a baton, things might have not gone the way they did. I bought this online and packed it for coming here, just in case it was needed. It will hang at my back, and only be used as a defensive weapon, if at all.”

“Isn’t it illegal to carry an offensive weapon?”

“Yes, but this is not an offensive weapon; it is a defensive weapon, to my way of thinking and intent of use. It is like picking up a stick to defend yourself with.”

“Freda will tell you otherwise, darling. ANY weapon you are carrying, or own, is illegal in the UK, as is purchasing one; and if you use it you will be in trouble with the courts, no matter the situation. No, dear, put it away, and depend on your training in self-defence. I don’t want to see you sent to jail for carrying an offensive weapon.”

“Damn!” exclaimed Reg. “Next the law will be declaring bare fists as an offensive weapon.”

“Not exactly, but apparently if you are a martial arts expert, the court might be unhappy if it deems you to have used ‘unreasonable force’ in defending yourself. In normal circumstances, being an expert in martial arts makes no difference legally in the matter of defence, said Freda.”

“But I was not charged over killing an attacker a year ago.”

“The difference then was that you were not trying to use excessive force, but killed him by accident. You were reacting, without thinking, to a knife attack already made on you, so you clearly did not have any intent other than to protect yourself. It was simply an accident that your hand strike hit his throat and killed him; hitting him elsewhere would not have been so serious, and he moved into a position where that was the result. There was no way you could have predicted his move and allowed for it in your strike.

But now, with your knowledge of what can happen, you would not get away with any killing blow without severe repercussions. Freda did some research into such incidents, so she would have the legal knowledge to protect you in future. Your baton or truncheon is a non-no, I’m afraid.”

“All right, Frances. You can tell Freda that you stopped me, but I hope I don’t have to step in with force to protect Sidra and Elizabeth.”

The girls wanted to know what was keeping their followers, so Frances told them, “I was briefing Reg on what we are allowed to do to protect you and ourselves. We are straight on that now, so we can proceed.”

“Good. I want to see what sort of fish they land here.”

“Okay. We can walk to the harbour, but the Sea Life Centre is farther away so we may need to go by taxi. You can see how fit you feel after the harbour.”

They set out through the town’s streets, and unsurprisingly got detoured by what the teens saw in the shop windows. Fortunately the girls did not have a lot of cash on them, so it was mostly window shopping, apart from a couple of sundae ice creams at the Harbour Bar.

Reg and Frances walked hand-in-hand along the streets, about fifty metres behind the girls, and were gratified that nothing of note occurred on the way. Once the girls entered the bar, Frances stopped Reg and turned to kiss him passionately where they were. When she pulled away, she noticed they were being watched by other tourists, one woman giving them a ‘thumbs-up’ sign of approval. Frances smiled back.

They stood outside for a little, watching through the window while the girls were served and settled to their treats. Reg remembered to ask Frances if she wanted to have something as well, but she told him, “I don’t need anything for now, Reg, just you by my side is enough.”

Reg beamed and gave her another kiss at this loving remark.

The saunter around the harbour was interesting enough to the girls that they almost forgot they were being followed discreetly. They chatted to some of the folk involved with fishing and got some questions answered. Finally Sidra checked the time and turned back towards Reg and Frances. Meeting up with them, she asked, “Can we take a taxi to the aquarium, Dad?”

Reg responded affirmatively, and asked Frances to deal with it. She pointed out that they had passed a taxi rank recently, and it was simple to walk back there. They did so, and the four got in the one taxi. F

Frances told the driver, “The Sea Life Centre, please. The girls are to tired to walk.”

He replied, “Certainly ma’am,” and set off. It only took a few minutes before he was drawing up outside the entrance. As Frances paid him, he looked at Reg with puzzlement, having expected him to to pay, but said nothing other than, “You will like the aquarium, folks. It is a great venue for visitors.”

Frances thanked him for the recommendation, and they all got out. Frances told Reg it was his turn to pay, so he presented his credit card for paying for the tickets, and they were quickly inside.

The girls were fascinated by the fish and crustaceans inside the glass-walled tanks, and were amused by the antics of the occasional octopus sneaking in and out of hiding holes. There were a few small tanks where baby fish were hatching out of egg-pockets, and small lobsters were growing on. This gave them excuses to ask questions of Reg and Frances, most which they found they could answer. Reg was especially knowledgeable from his many years of reading anything and everything. He pointed out that octopuses had special talents other than spouting ink as as a poison ous smokescreen for escaping. They could climb through tiny holes by squeezing their bodies almost impossibly through small spaces; they have nine brains: one central brain and a small one in each tentacle. They are also very clever at solving physical puzzles, as least bas clever as many corvids and parrots. “Corvids are the crow family, by the way. One of the cleverest parrots is the New Zealand Kea.”

“Crows?” exclaimed Elizabeth. “Crows are intelligent?”

“Certainly,” added Frances. “At least as clever as chimpanzees. Birds are among the cleverest animals on the planet apart from humans.”

“Good grief,” Elizabeth came out with. “I must look closely at crows in future. I thought the herring gull was clever, the way it angles to get food; even tapping on windows as a reminder in some instances!”

When the girls at last had seen enough, Frances phoned for another taxi to take them all home. It had been a good outing, and Elizabeth in particular was full of what she had seen. Sidra admitted to having been shown some preserved fish specimens at the university when she had visited with Reg.

“But seeing them live is completely new!”

They talked fish and shellfish all the way home, and when the driver was being paid in cash, commented, “I am surprised you aren’t paying by an Aqua credit card!”

As soon as they were inside the hotel, Frances announced, “I am going to check on Jimmy. He is probably hungry.”

Reg retorted, “It is too early for that, Frances. You just want to mother him and the other babies.”

She marched off with replying to what was a true statement. She wanted to be up to date about the babies, so that as and when their mothers phoned and asked about them, she would be able to report accurately.

Once she was in the room with Sandra and the babies, she located Jimmy and soon had him at her breast. Jimmy never refused an extra feed, she knew, and she had the urge to feed him again. The other mothers had their breast pumps with them to express the unusable milk, and Sandra had been given a supply of purchased baby milk for the others. Frances expected to have to help out with dispensing if more than one child called for milk at the one time.

Sidra and Elizabeth headed for the ladies room, giggling as they went, leaving Reg wondering what they found so funny. Feeding babies was a never-ending chore, he thought, glad that his girls almost never asked him to help except with clean-up chores at the other end when they were busy. He was astonished at how many times the babysitter was too busy to change a nappy if Reg was available; and suspiciously, no mother was at hand on these occasions. He suspected collusion, even though any time he asked, each woman was able to explain they were occupied with studying or research or on the phone to her mother. His wives’ mothers all seemed to want a blow-by-blow account of their grandchildren’s life.

He supposed he should go up and see what the situation was, as all the mothers were away; a good excuse for not being there to change a nappy.

He waited until Sidra and Elizabeth came out of the ladies’ and told them where he and Frances could be found. Sidra had her own agenda.

“How long until tea-time, Dad?”

“That is up to Frances, Sidra. We are not going to feed ourselves until all the babies have been properly fed and looked after. Sandra will be wanting her evening meal as well; it is not all about your desires, my girl.”

Elizabeth volunteered, “I was thinking the same thing as Sidra, Dad, so I apologise.”

“Very good, Elizabeth. Excellent admission, for which you deserve recognition. You and Sidra are worthwhile young women. I am very pleased with you both, and I am sure your mother will say the same when I tell her about it. Do you want to be along when Frances and myself visit her tonight?”

“Visiting? She is not getting out today?” Sidra queried.

“No. Tomorrow, the hospital say.”

“Yes, I’ll come. Elizabeth, want to see if Rex has become more human?”

Elizabeth giggled. “Sounds worth a look, but I want to see my Mum as well!”

With that agreed, Reg finally got to the room with the babies; he supposed he should call it the nursery room. Frances collared him as he entered, their son at her breast.

“Reg, there are two of your children needing changed. Do your fatherly duty and sort them out, darling. Sandra is feeding another baby.”

He set to, and found himself automatically going through the routine of nappy changing, He had changed so many by now that he hardly needed to pay attention, except to find which child he was doing. The ages of them varied but they were close enough that simple size was insufficient for recognition; he had to look at the face and the hair, as well as the gender. All the bottoms looked much the same when dealing with a messy nappy, but he was careful at the first sign of a urine spray to cover the offending member with a cloth that could then be rinsed out at the washbasin afterwards. He reckoned he would be able to converse knowledgeably with any mother on the subject of nappies.

Most of the babies had no trouble in greeting him as their father – there was not much of a choice! - but it was gratifying to hear that small voice call him Da or whichever other variant the mother was teaching her child to use in recognition.

All of the babies were pleased to be held gently and cuddled by him, but then being cuddled by any adult is gratifying to the child. These welcoming arms were the thing, plus a chest to lie against and fall asleep. One or two of them still sought a nipple to latch onto for milk, but most of the babies now knew that their father did not have milk of his own to offer. The most they could expect from him was a warm feeding bottle.

He decided that Sandra very much earned her pay. She was quite an expert now in baby handling, feeding and comforting, and nappy changing times. She was assiduous at applying nappy cream to avoid nappy rash or any other skin condition that would lead to a crying spasm from the child. Bathing babies was by now second nature to her, making sure that the water temperature was lukewarm, the depth on the low side, and washing with a mild soapy solution that would not irritate the baby’s eyes or affect it if swallowed inadvertently.

Frances was by now cradling a happy and well-fed baby ready for sleep, so she got up and carried him to one of the cots supplied by the hotel. As she laid him down, her phone rang, so she asked Reg to lay the cover over their baby boy while she answered the phone.

It was the first pair reporting in, and asking how their children were doing.

“No problem, girls. All the babies are healthy and happy, well-fed and in their cots. Reg has been nappy changing, and doing a good job of it too, so all is well. How about yourselves?”

She listened intently and soon was bidding them good night, closing the call. Reg asked what they had said.

“They have arrived at the town and are at their hotel for the night. They will visit the store in the morning after breakfast, for they are too tired to go now. They send their love, Reg.”

The other two pairs reported in over the next hours, with similar reports and results. Reg, Frances and the girls had their meal first, then Sandra was relieved by Sidra and Elizabeth so that she could her own evening meal before phoning her boyfriend for a chat.

Reg had Frances all to himself that night, and they had a romantic time together while Sandra the babysitter slept in the same room as the babies, to help any that woke up crying with dirty or wet nappies.

Morning was extra pleasant for Reg and Frances as they lay cuddled together, until a knock on the door and a demanding voice told them that Sidra and Elizabeth were up and expecting the adults to get up too.

They were no sooner showered and dressed when Frances’ phone went off again. She answered it, and it was Jessica.

“They are allowing me back to the hotel, Frances, as long as I take it easy for another couple of days. Can you and Reg come collect me. Don’t bring the girls or they will get in the way. They will see the baby once we get there.”

Frances rang the minibus firm and asked for the vehicle to take them to the hospital to collect mother and baby, as soon as was practicable, but first to allow them half an hour to have breakfast.

Frances told the two girls at the breakfast table to make sure Sandra got her breakfast, and to do as much as they could to ensure all the babies were fed, changed, and cuddled. “Get Sandra to tell you which baby needs what treatment, so you are not acting blind.”

True to their instructions, the minibus was at the hotel door when they made their way there with the two teens as escort. Sidra and Elizabeth waved the off, Elizabeth saying, “Tell Mum we are anxious to have her home.”

At the maternity ward, Reg and Frances were welcomed at the door by Jessica, after she had shuffled over from another woman she was talking to. She had been trying for most of the morning to walk around the ward, to see how her body was coping with the effects of childbirth, for she could not recall such details about Sidra’s birth all these years ago. She was pleased at what she found; that extra day’s rest had made a difference, she felt.

She had shuffled aimlessly around the ward for a time, very carefully, greeting the other new mothers in or at their beds as she encountered them. The TV woman blushed when Jessica told her there were no hard feelings about reporting to her office.

“Reginald is a lovely man, dear. He has given me what I wanted: a son. I hope you have what you wanted.”

“More or less, Jessica. I would have preferred a girl, but what I got was a boy.”

“My first was a girl who is now a lovely teenager, but I have a boy now. I am sure you will have a girl next time.”

“I hope so.” She admitted, “I am not married, Jessica, but I love the man I live with.”

“Then it is time he married you, young woman! Tell him that your daughter needs her parents to be married to show they love each other.” Then Jessica’s hand flew to her mouth. “My god, I have just remembered that my first husband probably never loved me, even though we were married for fifteen years. It was an arranged marriage; he was always self-centred and he gradually became an abuser. That is why we left him; actually Sidra ran away, and later I was rescued from him, so we are in hiding despite the divorce. Please never mention this to your work colleagues, dear. He must never know where I am, or even Sidra’s whereabouts.”