Chapter 3

A month after I'd handed the report in, I'd heard nothing and had concluded that I would hear nothing further, so it was right at the back of my mind and about to fall out of it altogether.

'Fancy a drink after work anyone?' said an email from Andrew Tate, one of my colleagues and a regular at our frequent after work gatherings. With no other plans I was up for it, so responded accordingly.

'You joining us tonight Tamsin?' I asked the woman at the next desk, knowing that she too was on the distribution list.

'Can do, I suppose, Tommy is away on a course for the next couple of days.' She responded without much enthusiasm and sounding a little despondent.

I looked round at her. 'Missing him or just feeling a bit rough?'

'A bit of both really, but you know how it is. It comes and goes.'

Tamsin Hartley was around thirty and had been at the company since she left university. She knew that she had far too much time off to ever get beyond her current position of IT Support. One evening Tamsin, aged sixteen, bumped into a fourteen year old boy whose driving skills were sadly lacking but whose self belief and machismo were in overdrive. With a few ciders in him and driving a stolen car, he naturally assumed that he was by far a better driver than the specially trained Police pursuit driver that chased him and his mates. Speeding into trouble on a bend beyond his ability to handle, the car spun into an oncoming car with disastrous results.

The couple and their young baby in the other car were killed, as was the front seat passenger and one of the two boys in the back seat of the stolen car. The second back seat passenger suffered extensive head injuries and would never be the same again. Tamsin, who, as the couple's regular babysitter, was riding in the back with the baby, spent the next six months in hospital and had been in a wheelchair ever since. Typically, the only person to escape relatively unharmed was the lunatic driver. It seemed that drunk teenage drivers had a bad habit of crossing my path.

She'd met her husband Tommy about a year before I'd joined the company and it was only since then that she'd started to accept everything that had happened. I knew that she was permanently in pain and it was only the degree of it that varied. She never complained too much about it. She was the closest thing to a real friend I had at work.

That evening we chatted as I pushed her wheelchair towards the pub. It had taken us a while before we were comfortable in our differences. Tamsin was well capable of wheeling herself almost anywhere, as the well-worn fingerless leather gloves showed, but I could push her with a lot less effort. It was only when I tried humour to explain it did she finally succumb. I'd told her that I only wanted to do it because she was a beautiful sexy lady and I wanted everyone to think that she was mine. I'd also told her that I loved to give the local gossip-mongers something to talk about.

Once inside the pub I noticed that there were about ten others already crowded around a few tables, hastily pushed together. They all quickly shuffled over to make room for Tamsin's chair, whilst I went up to the bar. Because who turned up at these impromptu gatherings always varied, as did the amount of time they stayed, it was normal practise to just get yourself and maybe close friends a drink rather than buy a round for everyone. Tamsin couldn't really drink because of all the drugs she had to take and I was driving, so two soft drinks were all I bought. I never got behind the wheel of my car after any alcoholic drink.

Once I'd found an available chair and managed to squeeze it somewhere near our group, I joined in with the normal diverse talks going on. The rumour mill was at its usual fast flow, with two main topics. Geoff Masters and Stephanie Peers were the latest 'item' which had all the girls oohing and aahing as both were pretty nice people and were probably well suited. The second subject was of a takeover in the pipeline. I paid little attention to the latter because it was a rumour that had abounded virtually since I started at the company. We were a highly successful company and it was only to be expected that larger ones would hover around now and again. From my conversation with Mr. Kopolova I saw no sign that he was ready to relinquish control, especially to any outsiders.

The group expanded and contracted over the next couple of hours as people working later joined us whilst others went home. I smiled as I watched one of the younger men make a determined effort with a recently divorced woman almost twice his age. Brenda, I couldn't remember her surname, seemed highly flattered by the attention and it looked like the young man's persistence would pay off. Next week's rumour perhaps?

Tamsin decided it was time for her to go so I wheeled her back to our car-park and helped her into her specially adapted car before saying goodnight. I decided to head home too.

A preplanned dental appointment the following morning meant that it was gone 11:00am when I arrived at my desk.

Almost instantly Tamsin asked, 'David, just what have you been up to?' stressing the word 'you'.

'Nothing that I know of, ' I replied in puzzlement.

'Well you need to go up to Mr. Kopolova's office immediately.' She told me with a grin.

The moment I arrived at his secretary's desk, I was ushered immediately into the board room which was next to his office.

'Ah! Mr. Powell, nice of you to join us, ' my boss said politely.

'At last!' added his daughter sarcastically.

'Sorry, I was at the dentist this morning.'

'No problem.' Mr. Kopolova said and indicated a seat that I should take. This in itself was a surprise as I'd previously spent the entire meeting standing in front of his desk.

I looked around as I sat down. Natasha and Petra were the only other people there. I smiled as I saw the former gasp as she recognised me. I wasn't in the least bit surprised that my surname didn't mean anything to her.

Her father noticed too. 'Natasha dear, do you know Mr. Powell as you appear to recognise him.'

Not knowing what to say she was saved by her cousin.

'He went to the same school as us I believe, ' Petra said.

'Yes that's it, ' Natasha added quickly.

Her father smiled, but said nothing.

'David ... you don't mind if I call you David?' He began.

'No sir!'

'Good. Well I've asked you here to discuss your proposal.'

'Proposal?' I couldn't help but ask.

'The report you did for me a few weeks back. It looked to me like a proposal for how this company should go forward.'

'Sorry sir, ' I responded, 'but it wasn't meant to be presumptuous.'

I could tell by Natasha's expression that she felt that it was, but maybe it was her business persona or just her father's presence, I noticed that she was a lot more subdued and in control.

'At this meeting I want to concentrate on the management structure that you suggested.' He looked, no stared, at me. 'What I'm about to say never goes out of this room, clear?'

I nodded, unsure where this was leading.

'My wife was recently diagnosed with breast cancer. I therefore need to spend as much of my time with her as possible, which means less time here of course. That also means that I need someone here that I can trust. When my wife has recovered we will review things.'

He looked around for comments but nobody said a word.

'With a little reorganisation, I will become chairman only, whilst Natasha will be our new Managing Director. That bit is settled, what I, or should I say we, want to discuss with you is how that will impact on the work force.'

I wasn't sure whether or not I was supposed to comment, so didn't.

'It seems that you doubt my ability to handle them.' Natasha said with disdain and more than a hint of anger.

I looked at her father and he nodded his permission to continue. As was my way, I had to tell it how I saw it.

'That is correct Miss Kopolova.'

'And why would that be?'

'You look down at people. You have been blessed with beauty and wealth as well as intelligence and don't consider anyone without the first two. For all I know your father feels the same, but if he does then he also has the sense and experience not to show it. I'm sure you are aware that he is well respected by most of his workers.'

'Only most?' the said gentleman asked cheekily.

'I am respected just as much.' Natasha stated. 'Feared too.' She added with a not too pleasant smile.

'I don't doubt the latter but I would be willing to bet there are no more than a handful with any respect for you.' I continued calmly.

'And as for being better than everyone else, why I can't help that.' She said haughtily.

I laughed. 'You are no better than anyone in this company.'

She laughed this time. 'Of course I am, anyone can see that.'

'Wrong. Anyone can see that you are more beautiful than most and your clothes shout money, but that doesn't make you anything special. On the contrary, your attitude and manner make you less than just about anyone else I know.'

'Okay, that is enough insults for the time being.' Mr. Kopolova said. 'Oh by the way Natasha, David is absolutely correct in his appraisal.'

She stared hard at her father then looked at me and demanded. 'Well Mr. Bigshot where do you see yourself in all this, at my side no doubt.'

'Not at all. I see myself looking for another job actually, which is why I'm happy to speak my mind.'

'That is not going to happen, I will guarantee that she cannot dismiss you.' Mr. Kopolova said straight away, quickly removing the smile that had started to spread across his daughter's face...

'Wouldn't make any difference. She would make things so difficult that I would have to quit.'

'I thought you'd be stronger than that.' He stated as we both saw his daughter smile again. Unlike that first smile back at the party, this one was not pleasant to see.

'Oh I am, but you forget that I watched Miss Kopolova all through school. She would use my friends to get at me and it would work.'

'Yes, like that cripple girlfriend of yours.' She almost spat, showing that she paid me more attention than she would admit, yet still not enough for accuracy.

I decided not to respond directly. 'That is just the attitude that could close this business in weeks.'

'Yes it is and that and the reason for your footnote are what troubles me the most.' Her father responded.

'What footnotes?' Natasha demanded.

'I'm guessing they relate to our first meeting, right?'

I nodded.

'What meeting?'

'When I first asked him to produce the report we should be discussing.'

'Yes father, why was such a lowlife given that responsibility? Wait a minute, that would be just after that party when you saw me... ' She stopped before she said something she didn't want her father hearing. 'You blackmailed my father to give you promotion and you talk about my attitude and behaviour.' She snarled at me.

'So what you did was worthy of blackmail was it then dear?' Her father asked gently.

That shut her up for a few seconds. Believing what she had just accused me of, she assumed her father already knew about the drugs so decided to attack me rather than defend herself. 'Not really, it was only a bit of coke with friends, whatever this ... this dirtbag said.'

Her father looked only marginally surprised. 'I can't remember his exact words but they were along the lines of – I made a promise not to say anything and I won't. And he didn't, even when I threatened to sack him.'

It then sunk in that she'd dropped herself in the proverbial. Mr Kopolova continued. 'Regardless of his low opinion of you he had made a promise and intended to keep it. I believe the word he used was integrity, one I'm sure you've heard even if you have no inkling of its meaning.'

'Now, this meeting was to be about what happens between you and the workforce. I am now having serious thoughts about making you M.D. in the first place.'

I interceded. 'Can I say something here?'

'Of course.' Mr. Kopolova said.

'I can't see that anything has changed.' I said. 'All Miss Kopolova has done is reinforce everything we already knew. I saw your face when she admitted taking cocaine and realised that you already knew of course.'

He nodded.

'Well providing that doesn't get out of hand then we are where we were before. Miss Kopolova is well capable of running things from on high, as long as her abrasive attitude is kept away from the workers. Miss English, you haven't said anything yet. Do you feel that you could be the buffer between your cousin and everyone else?'