Chapter 5: Consultation

Allison Callow had insisted that George come in to her shop in order to look at some of her paperwork. "I really want to be sure that I'm keeping the right records," she'd said as she fetched him a cup of tea and a plate of biscuits. I know you're terribly busy. It's good of you to spare the time."

George nodded. He actually felt a bit guilty. It wasn't that he had really been avoiding her but he had been spending a lot of time thinking about Erica. "No, it's quite all right," he said. "And anyway I'm sure your records are fine. All the paperwork you've sent me so far is perfectly all right."

"Oh. Good." Allison smiled shyly. She was a quiet woman, in her late thirties, carrying a little more weight than she should and somehow looking as though the troubles of the entire town had piled up in her shop doorway. "Is your tea sweet enough? Can I get you another biscuit?"

"No. Thank you. It's fine." George looked at his watch. "Look, I'm sorry I can't stop long," he said, "I have to see another client. Perhaps I can just take these papers to look at later." Nothing that was going on at Erica's was making it any easier for George to pass the time of day casually with members of the opposite sex.

"Oh. Yes. Of course. Well, thank you for stopping by. I just needed reassuring, I suppose. I'm sorry to have bothered you."

George felt guilty for rushing away. "That's all right it's no bother really. It's just that I'm..."

"That's all right. Don't worry. I understand." Allison collected his empty tea cup as George got up. "Please give me a call if there's anything you need."

"Yes, of course," said George picking up the papers. "Well good afternoon Ms Callow."

"Oh, please," she said looking disappointed by his formality, "Allison."

"Ah. Umm," George was getting more uncomfortable by the minute. "Well. Good afternoon, err, Allison." She smiled, accepting the small triumph for as much as she was likely to gain, while George left.

Twenty minutes later he was at Erica's. Erica Wilkie smiled at George Franks as he sat in the chair opposite the desk in her office. "It's good of you to come over Mr Franks. Now what exactly was it you wanted to discuss. I'm afraid I really didn't understand what it was that you were talking about when you called."

George Franks smiled. "That's quite all right, Ms Wilkie," he said. "It can be a little complicated. It's much the easiest if I can explain things face to face. I wanted to make sure that the business is able to claim the maximum possible tax relief and to take account of capital allowances, as well as assuring that you are treating your normal business expenses in the most tax efficient way." If the truth was to be known he had simply wanted the chance to be in the same room as the woman that had come to dominate, in more than one way, his fantasies.

He took in the sight of the delectable Ms Wilkie, as she pushed back an errant strand that had escaped from the band that held her hair back from her face. He watched as she leant forward to pick up the file of papers that held the details of her accounts. As she did so, her jacket fell open, giving Franks a glimpse of the swell of her breasts in the fine white blouse she was wearing. George only just managed to stop himself from whimpering audibly. Erica got up from the desk and stepped around to George's side. The skirt of her immaculately tailored suit was only inches from him. He glanced down, staring at Erica's perfect legs, her sleek hose, her polished and spike heeled shoes.

"Mr Franks?" the sound of Erica's voice brought his attention back to the matter in hand. She pushed the brown manila folder along the desk towards him.

I'm, sorry," he coughed. "sorry. Err, yes, thank you Ms Wilkie." He took the file from her. "Now there were a few points. Firstly, about the insulation that you had installed."

"Ah, well, you'll understand that some of the rooms need some sound deadening. My clients can be a little vocal in certain circumstance, you'll understand."

"Yes, of course. If the insulation also has heat insulation properties, we could claim for an energy efficiency grant that would refund the costs of the material and the installation costs."

"Good heavens, I hadn't realised that might be possible!"

George smiled, pleased to have been of use. "Well there are other possibilities too. Because we are in a regeneration area here, new business start-ups can be exempted from local business taxes for a period of up to two years. And if you were planning to take on any more consultants or other staff, you could be eligible for funding under the employment support programme. You see, your business would be categorised under service industries and the local council has put in place a number of incentives to help create jobs outside of the manufacturing sector."

"George Franks," Erica beamed. "You're a marvel!"

"Thank you very much, Ms Wilkie," George responded modestly.

"Please," she said. "It's Erica."

"Oh, no I couldn't," George stammered. "I'd much rather call you Ms Wilkie. It's more, err, more professional."

Erica gave him a careful look and raised one eyebrow. George looked back sheepishly. He didn't dare say what he would rather be calling her or that he would rather be conducting the conversation naked and on his knees with head bowed before her. He didn't need to say it, of course. Erica knew exactly what was going through his mind. In the course of her work she encountered many men that found it difficult to give voice to their inner desires and it seemed to her that George Franks fell exactly into that category. She wasn't sure why but she felt she wanted to help George overcome his diffidence, and open himself up to the possibilities of new experiences. "Your profession, or mine, Franks?" she asked wryly.

George spluttered his protests. "Mine, Ms Wilkie, of course."

Erica looked at the accountant. For some reason she felt sympathy for the rather quiet man who was peering at her with the air of a startled rabbit. "Please, do give me credit for understanding the motivations of those that come to use my services. I think, Franks, that you would like nothing better than to join the ranks of those allowed into my service. That far from calling me 'Erica' or even Ms Wilkie', you would far rather be calling me, 'Mistress'. Wouldn't you?"

George looked uncomfortable.

Erica smiled reassuringly but pressed on nevertheless. She was confident that by taking a direct line she would allow George to admit his needs to himself. "Franks, there is absolutely no need to feel embarrassed about your desires. It is my firm belief that we should all admit to and explore our deepest drives, provided that they bring no harm to others. You have been very helpful to me and I would like to help you. For my part, I would be happy to offset your fees against mine if you wished to explore your interests in that way." She paused, staring directly at Franks. "Unless of course," she went on, "I've misunderstood. In which case, please accept my apologies and perhaps we can get on discussing whatever it was that you really came to see me about?"