Chapter 2: Helping Others

Lending a consolatory ear, or helping other people with their problems, will enrich your life! Well, that's what we are told. But be careful. You never know who or what is going to bite you and turn your life upside down.

My name is John Sibly; I'm five foot eight and live just outside the great city of London. At the time this all started, I was twenty-eight and had been married for five years. My wife Angel, (Angeline to everyone but me and her dear old dad) was four months pregnant with our second child. Angel's first pregnancy had been plain sailing, but for some reason things weren't going smoothly with her second. Angel's blood pressure was up and down like a yo-yo. She was finding it all very stressful and our doctor had informed me she could easily get depressed. He instructed me to make sure she was not unnecessarily upset or put under unnecessary stress.

At the time, I was working as a salesman for an engineering company; unfortunately the firm was on its way down. Its products were old fashioned and out of fashion. It was only by the hard work of a very strong sales team, of which I was one of course, that the company stayed solvent.

Although we all tried our hardest, the commission element of our salary was never very high, and money was tight at home. Angel and I lived comfortably but we were definitely not rich.

Anyway, my problems really started when the head of sales retired. I was offered his job and because of the extra money, I took it on. The sales team accepted me as their new boss with enthusiasm and we actually managed to increase our turnover. They were a good crew, and were all pretty good at their job. But, with my promotion came the responsibility for my staff. Longer hours in the office and less time at home. I can't say that Angel was too pleased that I was working longer hours, but she never actually complained.

Working in the office we had this young seventeen-year-old clerk, Sheila. A pretty girl, with a nice figure, she was very quiet and reserved. The salesmen and other girls would often invite her to join them for lunch or a drink after work, but she would always refuse. I noticed that a man in a car collected Sheila at finishing time everyday. I found out from Jenny my secretary that he was her father.

"You never see her without either her mum or dad," Jenny said. "I think when she is in the office is the only time she is away from them. No one's ever seen her leave the building if one of them isn't with her!"

Okay, so they were a close protective family. That was none of my business. But as time passed I began to notice a change in young Sheila. She was not looking too well. On closer scrutiny I realised she was putting on weight. The problem was, she was putting on weight in exactly the same way as my Angeline. That could mean only one thing. Young Sheila was in the family way. But I couldn't imagine how that could be, as her mum and dad were supposed to watch her like a pair of hawks.

As time went on, others in the office began to notice Sheila's condition and Jenny remarked that Sheila was making lots of mistakes in her work. This was beginning to cause havoc, as time was wasted correcting her errors. It was apparent to me that Sheila seemed to be under a lot of stress.

I knew I had to speak to her, so I waited until lunchtime when everyone else had gone out and called Sheila into my office. I asked if she would like a coffee, but she refused, so I dove straight in.

"Sheila, your condition is now evident to everyone, and I realise that a young lady like yourself must be finding things a little overwhelming. But I am afraid I am getting complaints that you are not concentrating on your job properly and are making far too many mistakes. You really must try and pull your socks up. As things are, we haven't got the staff to keep going back over your work to put things right!"

I was quite pleased with my little speech. I had said what was needed without being too harsh, and with any luck Sheila would return to her old efficient self. I thought now I should make some friendly small talk.

"When is the baby due by the way? I suppose we will have to look into maternity leave for you before long?"

Whoops! I had definitely said the wrong thing. Sheila burst out crying, buried her head in her hands, and all but fell off her chair. Damn, I wished I had got Jenny to sit in on this. What the hell do I do with a crying, pregnant seventeen-year-old?

"Come on, my Sheila! Please don't go getting yourself upset. I know from my wife's pregnancy that you are not feeling yourself. Come on, have a cup of coffee, and tell me why you are so upset."

I poured Sheila a coffee and held it out for her to take. As she looked up at me, I got the biggest shock of my life.

Her eyes! Her eyes had the most pleading look about them. The look of those starving children in Africa that you see on television. The look you see on the children in those old photos of the Nazi Death camps.

Shit! That look really put the wind up me. I instantly knew this girl had a big problem and I also knew I didn't have the expertise or experience to deal with it.

When in doubt, do what every good man does - call the wife. Or as in my case, as you can't call the wife, call the secretary. I picked up my mobile and called Jenny.

"Sorry, girl, I know you're at lunch. But I think I need you back here now! Don't worry about lunch, I'll buy you another one later. And come alone; I don't want anyone else in on this."

Jenny must have been in the pub over the road because she came through my office door three minutes later, took one look at Sheila, turned to me and whispered.

"Christ, John, what the hell did you say to the poor girl? She looks like she's seen a ghost!"

"I hardly said anything. Look, Jenny, Sheila's got some real problems. We've got to see if we can get her to tell us what they are. Then maybe we can help her sort herself out!"

"You're too soft to be a boss. Leave me with her for a bit and I'll see what I can do. But she is a very private person and no one in the office has been able to get close to her."

"Well, someone has got very close! Or she wouldn't be in the family way."

"Wait outside. I'll see if I can get her to confide in me."

I picked up my coffee and went out and sat in Jenny's chair. After a while, I could just about hear that Jenny had got Sheila talking. But I could not make out what was being said.

Then Jenny came out of my office and said, "John, we need to be somewhere private!"

I was confused; my office is private. No one can see inside when the door is closed. But, if Jenny wanted somewhere more private; I suggested the conference room!

"No, more private than that! Bring your car to the back entrance. We'll take Sheila to my house for a while. I think this is going to get very messy. But we! Er! I'm, going to see her through it. And I hope you will be with us, as it was you who got me involved."

I went out to the front entrance and told the receptionist that both Jenny and I would be out for the rest of the day. She was to tell my assistant to go through my diary and reschedule anything that was there for the afternoon. Then I got my car and drove to the rear entrance, collected Jenny and Sheila, then drove the few miles to Jenny's house.

"God, there will be some tongues wagging this afternoon," I said, as I stood in Jenny's kitchen whilst she made a cup of tea.

"Don't be bloody, silly, I'm old enough to be your mother. And if they get wind of this back in the office, they won't have time to talk about you and me. Now get back in there with Sheila, whilst I make a couple of calls!"

Sheila was curled up on the couch crying quietly. "What the shit have I got into here?" I thought. "I wish Jenny would let me know what was going on?"

Jenny came in and placed the tray with the teas on it on the table.

Then she said to Sheila, "Now they're on the way here. You don't have to worry about anything. They are going to want you to tell them exactly what you told me. Then they will take care of everything; you will never have to see him again. And John and I will make sure you are all right. Won't we, John?"

"Well, of course we will. You can count on us!"

I only wished to hell I knew what I was agreeing to. I was still in the dark as to what all this was all about; Jenny hadn't given me a clue.

Shortly after, there was a knock at the door and Jenny let a man and woman in. One look told me they were the police, and they waved their warrant cards at us. Jenny took them into the kitchen and once again I was left holding the baby so to speak.

Sheila had sat up when the police arrived and she now reached out and grabbed my hand. And when I say grabbed my hand. I mean grabbed. Shit! She squeezed it so hard she could have been a heavyweight wrestler.

Shortly afterwards, the female officer came into the room, said hello to Sheila then introduced themselves as Detective Inspector Susan Stone and Detective Sergeant Collin Thomas. DS Thomas had followed her in and went over to sit on a chair behind Sheila where she couldn't see him with his notebook and pen in hand.

"Now, Sheila." DI Stone said, "We know this is going to be very difficult for you. But you are going to have to tell us everything that has happened to you. At the moment we just need to hear the basic details and get a couple of dates, if you can remember them. Then we can set things in motion, and we can put him where he belongs. Now would you like some privacy?"

I took this as my cue to depart, and started to stand. But Sheila squeezed my hand and insisted that I stay. The policewoman smiled at me and with a gesture of her head told me to stay.