Chapter 5

The following day was more or less a normal workday; the desk visits were mainly business related although some colleagues came to me when a Sametime or email would have been their more usual form of communication. Most were supportive, all though were curious or should I be honest and say nosy. I didn’t mind really, I was just glad to be back at work, hopefully finished with all the excitement.

On the way home I decided on a Chinese takeaway, as I didn’t feel inclined to cook anything. I always order way too much for one person and that time was no different. It was never wasted, often one of my daughters came round and joined me, otherwise I added a bit of rice and refried the leftovers the following day.

As I pulled up outside my house with the aroma of my Singapore Noodles and Salt ‘n Pepper Spare Ribs watering my mouth, I noticed a nice newish Jaguar parked between my house and my neighbours. Posh visitors for John and Jaquie I thought fleetingly. Although a lot newer, and no doubt safer and more efficient than mine, I wouldn’t want to swap.

When I opened my door I saw the Jag’s doors open too. Immediately I recognised Paul and his daughter Jenny. Paul Scott was a long time friend; one of those real friends that you might not see for months, even occasionally years, yet would always be there for you and vice versa. I’d originally trained Paul, back in the late seventies, in retail management and sales. It was around about that period that I got into my present career when I found I could make more money programming computers than selling them. Paul had stayed in retail for a decade or so before branching out on his own, and very successfully too. I couldn’t remember Jenny’s exact age but I knew she was born in late 1980, so the calculation was easy enough. I’d been offered the role of her godfather, but being a non-hypocritical atheist, I had declined the official position, though I still sent presents at the right time and tried to be there for if needed. In her younger days she’d regularly spend part of her school holidays with me when my girls had been at home. I hadn’t seen her for over a year and in that time she’d changed from a tubby little teenager into a petite young woman. She rushed from the car and hugged me tightly, tight enough to cause me to wince from the pain. She heard and felt my response and jumped back.

“Sorry Uncle Dave.” She’d called me that since she could talk even though the position was honorary.

“How’s the invalid?” Paul asked, “been in any good scraps lately?” He added laughing.

Paul was a few years younger than me and like me, the years had added a few unwanted pounds. He’d lost most of his hair even before I knew him but now he suited the bald look.

“Never realised you could look even uglier than usual. Who did your make-up using such an exotic combination of blacks and blues?” He said.

“Dad!” His daughter exclaimed looking shocked, or more likely her idea of how ‘shocked’ should look. She knew us well enough to know that this was the way we talked to each other. I looked at my friend’s daughter, taking in the modern tee-shirt and jeans, that hugged her svelte figure. Happily, she was wearing a bra as I would have hated to ogle her. I had to comment on how well Jenny looked, seeing her glow under the compliment and then laugh when I said that the year hadn’t been as good for Paul as it had for his daughter. He ruefully agreed as we went inside with Jenny digging for the story behind my ‘make-up’. Amy had contacted Paul, as she had most of my friends, and given him the news. He’d been in France at the time and had come as soon as he got the chance. It was left unsaid, but we both knew that he would have come immediately if he could have helped in any way.

“Coffee?” I asked walking towards the kitchen. It was a rhetorical question as it was his one addiction, well that and his family.

“Is the Pope Catholic?” He answered.

The moment I’d switched the kettle on I’d heard the doorbell. ‘Another well wisher!’ I’d thought and shouted to Paul to get the door.

The next moment I’d heard a raised voice, then a bump and a yell, closely followed by a scream from Jenny.

I automatically rushed to the front door and got there to see Paul sitting on the floor with his nose pouring with blood. I’d looked out of the still open door and saw a thickset man getting into the driver’s seat of a big BMW. I’d watched helplessly as he drove off without even looking back. I never saw his face but I did ensure that I remembered the car’s registration number.

Paul’s anger overshadowed any pain he may of otherwise felt. He was certain his nose was not broke so he strongly disagreed with my suggestion that he need to go to the hospital. He did ring the police though. I’m pretty sure that if he hadn’t then Jenny would have done, as she was fuming just as much as her father was. I listened whilst he spoke to the police operator and was surprised at what I heard. Paul had opened the door and almost immediately a fist had hit him in the face causing him to fall. His assailant had laughed and said that he was lucky that he’d gone down with the first punch. He was also told not to complain or his girlfriend’s mother would be sacked. I heard him explain that he was happily married and had no girlfriend. It was quite obvious to both of us that I had been the intended target and Paul just happened to open the door at the wrong time. I told him to mention D.I. Seagrove and my previous assault, which he did.

It was a few hours before the local police found time to rush to the scene. Whilst we waited I gave Paul and Jenny a complete run-down of events. Judging by what Paul’s attacker had said I had little doubt that it was Fliss’s father. I remembered Marion saying that he was blind to everything regarding his daughter. No doubt, he’d heard that her rapists had blamed me for what happened and had probably heard various descriptions of our initial confrontation. He assumed that I would not do anything to risk Marion’s job. On that he was probably correct, but unfortunately for him it wasn’t me that he hit.

We gave all this information to the same young police constable that had accompanied me to the hospital following my own assault, that eventually turned up, along with details of the man himself and his car. Once he’d taken our statements he asked if Paul wanted to press charges.

“Too damned right.” He was told.

It was only after he’d left that I thought I’d better ring Marion and let her know that her job might be in jeopardy. Penny answered the phone and was amused that I wanted to talk to her mother, asking if I was switching my affections. I said I’d explain later and I think she understood from my tone that it wasn’t time for jokes. She said okay and fetched her mother. I told Marion what had just happened and that Paul was keen to press charges and the possible consequences to her. She said that she understood him and agreed that he should do just that. She then added that at least her company would have to pay her off big time. We talked for a few more minutes and I could tell that she was trying to sound more confident than she was actually feeling.

Paul listened to my end and after I put the phone down he offered to drop the charges, assuming that it was her boss who had hit him. Jenny was having none of that, stating very firmly that if he did then the man was getting away with blackmail. Plus she reckoned, probably accurately, that Marion would be a lot better off somewhere else. That got us talking about what she did for a living. I explained that all I knew was that she worked as a Sales Manager; although what she actually sold I wasn’t that sure about. When Paul asked me if she was any good at it, I said I didn’t really know but that considering Fliss didn’t like her at all, she must be good otherwise they’d have already found an excuse of get rid of her.

“Are you thinking DataFon, Dad?” Jenny asked with a smile.

Paul nodded, before explaining that DataFon was a wholesale communications company that he’d recently set up. It was to source new high-tech products and then sell them on to phone and computer stores. He had most of his suppliers already in place and a few customers, mainly his own chain of small retail outlets. He would soon need a team of hunters and farmers. I knew by that he meant sales staff to find new business and account managers to look after and keep those customers. Too many companies assume that the same person can do both jobs; whereas it’s possible but rare to find someone that can do both with equal efficiency. Paul asked me for Marion’s surname and telephone number and said he would get in touch with her.

Once again it took a few weeks for everything in my life to return to normal. Anyone who was even remotely interested in my excitement had learned all they wanted to know. Paul, after some consideration, had agreed with the police that they just give Mr Cartwright, for as expected, he was Paul’s assailant, an official caution; it would stay on his record but there would be no court appearance or fine. He also let me know that he’d interviewed Marion and was very impressed. He had offered her a job regardless of what happened in her current one and joked that it might have been worth the bloody nose to get her.

Whether she was going to leave or not was taken out of her hands when she was dismissed for unspecified gross misconduct. After starting legal proceedings for unfair dismissal, which she won with ease, Marion happily took Paul up on his offer. Later Penny assured me that she would have accepted it anyway. Penny still sat on my desk at lunch but only once or twice a week, the same amount as she spent at Ian’s desk. She told me that she had declined his offers of dates a few times but she gave me the impression that sooner rather than later she would accept one. My own initial spurt of interest in the opposite sex waned, as I reverted to my previous self-indulgent life style. I decided that I could easily live without all the excitement.