The Reunion (22 page)

“Hi David, can you pop in for a minute?”

“Sure, I’ll come now,” he replied, disappointed he wouldn’t
be able to chat with Jabulani first.

“Great. I’ll make some coffee.”

He strode in, having planned a professional, detached
dialogue. Mary greeted him with a watery smile as she stood by the window
pouring the coffee. He smiled back as he sat down. Part of his brain wasn’t
sticking to the plan. He couldn’t help but notice how attractive she was. He
resisted the temptation to cast his eyes down from her striking face to her striking
body. She was looking at him looking at her; he was in danger of giving the
wrong signal.

“Quite an evening wasn’t it,” she began.

“It was that.”

“Did you get home OK?”

“Yes, I enjoyed the walk; it calmed me down a bit.”

“Look I’m sorry…” “I hope you don’t think…” Their
statements collided, to be followed by a few seconds of silence in anticipation
of the other person taking the lead. Then they laughed together.

David was first to speak again. He explained that her
understanding that he had separated from his wife was correct, but he had met
someone else since then, a woman he was very fond of…No, not yet, but they were
on the verge of starting a relationship.

The atmosphere became more relaxed as they chatted. David
let it be known that despite the police intrusion he had enjoyed the evening
with her.

“Maybe the raid contributed towards the fun,” Mary suggested.
“How come you knew some of the police there?”

“It’s a long story, but nothing important.”

“Good. I wouldn’t like to think we were employing a
criminal!”

There was another pause ahead of David spurting out an unplanned
statement. “I hope you don’t mind me saying this Mary, but I think you’re an
extremely attractive woman. Quite beautiful.”

“That’s nice of you to say that.”

“It’s the truth.”

“I always miss out on the good guys, that’s my life
story.” She went on to chat about past partners who resented what she admitted
was her over-assertiveness. During these relationships disagreement and
argument was the norm. Recently she had gone for men who were compliant, but
their submissiveness drove her up the wall and she abandoned them as dull lost
causes.

“Which category would I fit in?” David asked.

“I think neither. I respected you when you answered me
back the other week, I deserved it. And I thought your nicknames about my dress
sense were quite funny…”

“They weren’t mine! How did you find out about them?”

“I have ears, idle chat in the kitchen spreads you know. But
David, there’s a sensitive side to you, I like the combination.”

“Thanks,” David said with sincerity combined with a guilt-ridden
sense of a wasted possibility.

Mary stood, walked around her desk and faced him. “There
are a lot of things about how I behave to deal with. I think I’m all the better
for meeting you.”

She extended her arm and placed it on his shoulder. She
moved closer still and planted a kiss on his right cheek. “I hope you don’t
mind that.”

“Not at all.” The feeling of her lips on his cheek
lingered as he walked back to his room. It took quite a while to get Mary and
all her stories about partners off his mind. He wondered how many there had
been. Certainly more than his clumsy fumble with a girl during his first year
at university followed by over twenty years with Jane.

There was a lot of work to catch up on having been out
the office for two weeks. He switched on his computer and then commenced to
work through the spreadsheets that he hoped to abandon in the not too distant
future.

He was in the kitchen at lunch washing up his sandwich
container and mug when Jabulani came in.

“Back in your boss’s office again this morning I see,
David. You are a dark horse indeed.”

“Sshh Jabulani, not in here.”

“There’s more of an onion in you than meets the eye.”

“Please not here, the walls are incredibly thin. Come
into my office.”

Despite being in the confines of his room with the door
closed and speaking in a whisper, David had no inclination to talk about Mary.
But Jabulani had noticed the slow dance and the first kiss. And having observed
the second kiss, Charlie, Mitch, Dee and Freddie were ensuring that gossip was endemic
across the finance department.

“Typical of that lot. Still, they work in School Bus Transport
so I suppose they need something to spice up their lives,” David complained.

“True enough, but I’d like to know what’s going on.”

“She’s a bit fragile and vulnerable at the moment,” David
said in an attempt to lay all responsibility with Mary.

“It’s more than that, she likes you man, I can see it. And
you seem pretty keen on her, too.”

“Bridget is the one for me, Jabulani,” David asserted,
declining to tell him the woman who he loved had confessed to murder. And that indeed
he was attracted to Mary.

They talked about the gig. David was full of praise about
the performance – the singing, the dancing, the musicianship, and the way the
band had engaged the audience. Jabulani and Farai had been kept behind by the
police after everyone else had been allowed to leave, questioned about what they
knew of the pub owners. There was little to contribute. Jabulani’s brother had
visited several venues in an attempt to get bookings and this was the first to
sign them up. They would have received £150, barely enough to cover costs, but
at least a start. What with the arrests they didn’t get paid.

“We didn’t know we were performing in a place that sold
drugs. Anyway, we’ve got some other gigs now; I hope you’ll come along to one.”

“I’d love to.”

“Of course I’ll make sure Mary’s invited too.”

“Get lost Jabulani!”

~

Early afternoon David picked up a text from Rachel asking
him to collect her after a Fiddler on the Roof rehearsal. He set off a little
before six and met her on the wall in front of the school gates as usual. A boy
was sitting next to her, they were holding hands. As he approached they stood
and walked towards the car. Rachel opened the front passenger door. The boy was
tall and lean with straight blond hair down to his shoulders.

“Hi dad, this is Joe, alias Lazar Wolf.”

“Hello Mr Willoughby.” Joe had a welcoming face.

“He’s my boyfriend and a star in this musical of ours. Lazar
Wolf’s the second most important male in the show.”

David was glad to meet her boyfriend though wondered what
the couple’s agenda was. Joe made it clear. “I’m here to apologise for my
behaviour the other week. I don’t make a habit of getting drunk and nor does
Rachel. It was the end of term and we’d been to someone’s birthday party and
things got out of hand. It won’t happen again, I promise you.”

“Well I appreciate you talking to me, Joe. Thanks.”

Rachel shifted to get into the car but Joe took hold of
her arm to stop her. “One thing though, Mr Willoughby. I love Rachel – I’ll do
whatever I can to make her happy.”

How does a father respond to that? Bridget, Mary, Jane,
Jim, there was no reason why two sixteen year olds should be excluded from the
mess called love.

“I’m glad to hear that. Well, we’d best be heading off
now, I’ve had a really busy day. Nice to meet you.”

David could do nothing other than watch as Joe pressed
Rachel against his car where they entwined for a protracted kiss.

“He’s nice isn’t he dad,” Rachel said as they departed.

Well at least he’s not a murderer, David thought. He’d
call Bridget as soon as he got home.

The Reunion – R J Gould
Chapter 28
David was an accountant and accountants plan meticulously.
They research to get the facts exactly right. They take notes and rehearse what
to say. They are guarded against making false claims.

He would have liked to have spoken to Bridget from the
heart not the head, but years of doing things a certain way couldn’t be swept
aside overnight. Maybe down the line, when he was running the coffee bar, he’d
grow a pony tail, have his ears pierced, get a tattoo, and be spontaneous. But
for now he was David the Accountant so he worked out a precise script for the
forthcoming conversation. He decided on a light touch, using humour to make her
feel at ease.

With the handwritten prompts by his side he dialled her
number. He was nervous, a lot was at stake. “Hello Andy, is Bridget around?”

“No, she’s setting up an exhibition at work. She said you
might call and told me to let you know she’ll ring back tomorrow evening.”

“Alright, but please make sure you remember to tell her.”

“Of course I will,” Andy replied in an ‘I’m not stupid’
voice. “Must go. Bye.”

The impasse continued the following day. David was about
to call Bridget mid-afternoon when he received a text.

Hi. Setting up this event a nightmare, back v.late
tonight, will def. speak tomorrow. Sorry. B xx

Possibly the most important conversation in his life again
put on hold.

On his return home after work he opened the thick A4
envelope sent by his solicitor. He was informed that the terms of the financial
settlement with Jane had been scrutinised with due care and attention and were
correct. All that was needed were signatures and then the redistribution of assets
could commence. This was it – the beginning of the end of twenty or more years
together with Jane, now referred to as ‘the other party.’

David double checked the content. All correct, though
wading through a document that listed everything they had accumulated and
seeing one of two names against each item was a soul destroying experience. The
final decisions had been made when Jane had visited a couple of weeks
beforehand. They’d stood in each room taking it in turns to select. This part
of the separation had been the hardest, for Jane as well as him, as they examined
the things they had once shared.

‘I think I’ll have the sideboard.’

‘In that case I’ll take the sofa.’

‘Which one?’

‘That one.’

‘OK I’ll have this.’

It had been far less traumatic dealing with money despite
being of higher value. Bank accounts, shares and ISAs were just bits of paper –
they were distributed with a fifty-fifty split. The house would remain under
joint ownership with Jane contributing a third of the mortgage repayments until
Sam reached the age of eighteen when they would sell and split the net income
after repaying the balance still owed. Finally, as long as Jane remained
employed, she was required to contribute towards child maintenance.

Along with the documents was an invoice from his
solicitor for work to date. David wrote out a cheque for £2,326.58 and enclosed
it with the signed papers and a covering letter. As an act of great generosity
the buff envelope had been provided free of charge, but the cost of the postage
was itemised in the bill. He baulked at having been charged twenty pence per
sheet for photocopying and fifty pounds for each telephone call, however brief.

With that out of the way David countered the wretchedness
of the task by looking forward.

The café.

He’d already done some research. Just before the
Christmas break he’d surveyed work colleagues to test whether a market existed.
When he collated the returns of a questionnaire he’d prepared, there was
universal agreement that those not drawn to the bars frequented by the very
young would stay out after a meal or a film if only there was somewhere decent
to go.

David had also investigated how to attract daytime
customers bearing in mind every shopping centre was already full of coffee
bars, virtually all of them part of a franchised chain. The same colleagues had
been given a second questionnaire the next day, David deflecting curiosity by explaining
that it was for his son’s Geography project.

Would you like to see more independent coffee bars on
the high street?

Do you currently shop at the coffee bar chains?

If an independent coffee shop opened would you switch?

Every response was ‘yes’, ‘yes’ and ‘probably’. Not much
help.

Although his market research could in no way be regarded
as analytical or conclusive, it was clear that to have a chance his café would
have to be different – a venue and not merely a coffee bar. A venue with music,
films, poetry readings and art exhibitions. A place where at lunchtime you
could get interesting homemade sandwiches; in the afternoon upmarket cakes and
pastries; and in the evening a glass of good quality wine sitting at the same
table as someone ordering a coffee.

He googled ‘how to set up a café’ and was confronted with
scope to access a staggering 192 million websites. He browsed through the
eleven on the first page after having made a mental note that there could be
17,454,545 pages on the topic.

He wanted to find out how people had gone about setting
up coffee bars and which commercial organisations supplied them. Lists seemed
to work for him so he constructed a new one.

1. Should he
buy or lease a property?

2. What size
of premises was needed?

3. Where
should he locate?

4. What staff
training would be needed?

5. Who were
the best suppliers of furniture, coffee machines, food and drink?

He browsed and took comprehensive notes until approaching
3.00 am. He was pleased with the night’s work but now sleep was needed. He’d love
to have Bridget with him. He could show her his new list.

The Reunion – R J Gould
Chapter 29
Work the following day began in Mary’s office as they set
about preparing budgets for the next year. He could feel the warmth of her body
and smell the subtle fragrance of her perfume as they sat side by side. He
struggled to focus on Bridget. Yes, he wanted Bridget (despite the murder), though
Mary was a worthy reserve.