Maxine is on the phone to her boss Sally on the Bank Holiday Monday evening. The events described in this part run in a parallel timeframe to those described in ‘Doing Business’.

“I want to do things right Sally. To me, that includes working out my notice. I don’t want to suddenly up and disappear. What if at some time in the future, I need to use your research team? I don’t want to burn my bridges and all that.”

There was silence down the phone.

“Sally?”

“No, I’m not some monster that you created. I’m trying to be reasonable and behave like an adult.”

[Sunday Lunchtime at Exeter St David’s Railway Station]

Adrian’s driver, Cliff was waiting for him as he got off the train from Bristol.

“How did last night go Boss?” asked Cliff as he got into the car outside the station.

“I think she will go for it. As Sally said, she has a great brain and she looked pretty good last night. As I’d hoped, she has gone away to think about things.”

Then he changed the subject.

Adrian had worked late into the night following Maxine’s tip about things starting to move. He’d made a couple of long phone calls to contacts of his in the USA before going to bed.

“Any news from Georgia? They should be online about now even if it is a Sunday?”

Forsythe Saga - You did what? – Part 1
[Authors Note] This part (and the next one) was written in the First Person. Later parts of this tale are written in the Third Person.

The process of going to an interview for a new job is stressful at the best of times but when… when you are doing it for the first time and as a total and absolute fraud is really daunting.

When I saw all the others waiting to be interviewed for the job I almost turned tail and ran for the hills. They were all wearing business suits. All of the three other women in the room were perfectly made up and … well, nigh on perfect. Their flawless complexions could have from a fashion magazine such as Vogue. The six men were all identikit clones in suits with hair just the right length, all freshly shaven and nothing out of place that would really distinguish them from the person sitting right next to them. Even their ties were almost the same shade of non-committal blue. Ugh!

Being my own boss has both advantages and disadvantages. One of the former, is that if I’m on top of work, I could head off into the country for a long weekend whenever I felt like it. As I already lived in the county I’ve had more than a few questions along the line of ‘why I’d want to go into the country as I was already there’. It takes all sorts to make this world we live in.

That was true but… I was less than thirty miles from central London. Then the roads around my part of Surrey get pretty clogged up at weekends with cyclists. That isn’t bad but the ‘townies’ who come down from London at weekends in their monster Chelsea Tractors seem to think that the roads should be reserved for them and them only. This is not my idea of tranquillity. Ergo, I need somewhere that is deep in the country to relax and be myself.

WARNING
This part has some bits that some readers may find disturbing.
[one year after Penny died]

Connie and Bill decided to take some flowers to Penny’s grave on the anniversary of her death. It was a sad time for both of them.

They’d been up at the crack of dawn and out in one of the fields that Harry had turned into a Wildflower Meadow. As they picked the flowers they both heard a Skylark singing above them. Then a Cuckoo called from the small copse at the end of the field. Finally, a Corn Bunting chased them away from its nest. They smiled at each other. It seemed that all was right with the world just for a short time.

With the flowers sorted into two nice bunches, they travelled to Penny’s grave to pay their respects.

Once they were both back at Harry’s and Bill had unloaded the Market Stall bits and pieces, he went in search of Harry.

He found him fast asleep in a chair by the range in the Kitchen. His snores told him that he was ok but he recalled his ashen face from earlier and realised that he was sicker than he was prepared to admit to Bill. Bill guessed that he didn’t have long to go but was willing to wait for Harry to tell him just how bad things were.

For the next few hours, Bill busied himself around the house.

[4:30pm in a City of London Dealing room]

“Coming for a drink Bill?” asked one of the Dealers to another.
“It is Friday and we’ve had a very good week plus it is Henley finals weekend. A bunch of us have wangled passes into the Leander tent. Lots of lovely fillies on show. There’s one with your name on it if you want it.” He added.

“A filly or a pass?” asked a half interested Bill who was gazing out of the office window at the river Thames and Tower Bridge.

“Both if you have a mind…”

“Sorry Tony, I would love to but I’ve been summoned,” replied Bill with a sigh.

“Summoned? I guess it’s not to court as it is Friday. Parents?”

“Nah. My parents are probably somewhere in the Pacific on their boat. The summoner is my Godfather.”

It was just after one in the afternoon when we arrived at the house in Wiltshire. We’d taken a pretty roundabout route just in case we were being followed but a diversion through some very narrow lanes in South Oxfordshire and West Berkshire had made it next to impossible for any vehicle to follow us without us seeing them.

Jemma got out at the top of the drive to do a quick reconnoitre of the property and the surrounding land. She checked her Glock and then smiled at me as she disappeared into the undergrowth.

As I lay fast asleep in my delightfully comfortable bed, a series of co-ordinated events sent the whole of the Police, Security Services and all parts of the Military into overdrive.

It all started with a successful attack on the head of MI5. His car was ambushed and he was assassinated in broad daylight very close to Tower Bridge. As his schedule was a carefully guarded secret, everyone went on Red Plus Alert. Red Plus means imminent threat of attack.

In other words, the UK went into total lockdown.

Just over seven minutes later we were parked in a quiet part of Reading Services near the Motel.

“Ok, out withi it... What’s so important that couldn’t wait until we got back to the office?” asked Jemma slightly impatiently.

“I’ll show you. Give me a moment.”

I flicked through the photos of the documents we had found in Farthing’s safe until I found one in particular.

“Here read this,” I said giving her the phone.

The document was in Spanish.

Jemma struggled for a few minutes before giving me the phone back.

“I’m confused. Your Spanish is better than mine.”

“What it says is that when Mr Farthing went to Portugal a month ago where he met with Daniel Esteban. It goes on to say that he came to a deal with Esteban to get us killed in return for the two million Euros.”

[The following January]

“Come on you laggards. Just because you are effing women does not mean that you can slack off. There is still six miles to go. Then it is only a few more hours then, you can have that hot bubble bath that you females all love so much!”

Ms Jennings came into my room with a smile on her face.

That made me very fearful given her reputation.

She worked for a Government ‘Special Services’ Department somewhere in Whitehall. A sense of foreboding came over me. Their normal function was to provide HR services to a number of departments but their real function was known to very few people. Everyone in her section had ‘Top Secret’ security clearance so if something a bit out of the ordinary was needed doing that wasn’t assigned to us, they did it.

The HR function meant that you generally only saw her or people from her Office when it was bad news and for us, that bad news invariably meant ‘we have no further use for your services’.

Another boring day at work was over. Marty Chapman was bored. He’d been bored for years. He worked in a warehouse as a palette truck driver. He’d been there for more than 10 years. The only thing he had to look forward to was seeing Ellie, his only daughter at home in the evening.

His whole life revolved around her. Since his wife and her mother had traded them in for a Spanish Waiter some 8 years earlier, they’d been in it together.

“Hi Dawn, Thanks for fitting me in at such short notice,” said the man was obviously dressed in drag as he came into ‘Dawns Hair and Beauty’ late on a Friday afternoon.

“No problem Roxy. Where are you playing tonight?”

“Nelson and Colne Working Men’s Club, replied ‘Roxy’ as she sat down at the chair.

“Them’s a hard bunch over there.”

“Aye, they are but the money is good. Give and take eh?”

“Where’s Gina?” asked Dawn referring to the other half of the double act.

Subtitle : Travellers’ Tales

Dining alone when you are working away from home is not the most enjoyable of pastimes. Many restaurants turn their collective noses up at single diners or at best, they seat you in the most awkward table possible. These are usually right next to the entrance or exit from the kitchen or even worse right by the toilets.

The exceptions seem to be those eateries that are directly associated to the Hotel where you are staying. During the week, the majority of their customers, coach parties excepted are the single travellers.

“Ms Wilson will see you now,” said the assistant.

I stood up and after a moment’s hesitation; I followed her into the very impressive office. The views out over East London were impressive.

They should be. We were on the twenty third floor of one of the large tower blocks that fringe the edge of the City of London.

Ms Wilson stood up from behind her desk and came to greet me.

“Thank you for coming Susan. Please take a seat.”

I was shown to a comfortable seat where after smoothing my skirt I sat down.

This is a sequel to “The Editors Dilemma”

https://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/fiction/47384/editors-dilema

The tale resumes at the Hotel in Cynthia’s room after Cynthia has poured a cup of tea for Jennie.

Jenny sat down totally stunned by the person who was in front of her.

“I don’t know what to say.”

Cynthia smiled.

“I know that both my manuscript and how I look now is a bit of a shock but this is me now. Oh, and the final three chapters of it are on the table.”

“Cynthia…?”

“I have to do this darling. It is really who I am,” I said as I pleaded with my wife.

I was dressed in a way that she’d not seen before. I was wearing a dress, makeup and all the rest including my first pair of high heels!

“Don’t give me that rubbish. These past few years it has all been about you. I don’t get a look in.”

“Really? I don’t think so.”

“Now you are just grasping at straws. If you think that I’m going to sit here while you go out all dolled up like a dogs breakfast then you have to think again. After all the things I do and have done for you…”

I sat for a while when I was back in the Depot at the end of my first week back from holiday. It had been working for the company for almost ten years and very soon, I’d be giving it up for good. Letting go was hard but it had to be done. It was time to move on to pastures new.

On my way out of the Depot, I checked my schedule for the next day. I smiled when I realised that I’d be returning to the Depot in the middle of the afternoon to change both the type of bus and the route. I’d have a chance to go into the supervisor’s office to hand in my notice. In a strange way, I’d miss the place and a good few of the regular passengers that I carried almost on a daily basis.

Jon was waiting for me when I got home. The expression on his face told me that he had something he wanted to tell me.

“Out with it!” I said as we sat down to eat.

“I was sort of wondering if I could go and see Christine for a couple of days?”

After quite a bit of juggling and working extra days to allow other drivers time off to do their Christmas shopping, I managed to secure a decent period off over Christmas. I didn’t tell Jon/Fiona until I’d booked a week in Tenerife over the holiday. It wasn’t cheap but I’d secured a self-catering apartment and flights for a week away. The downside was that the flight was from Birmingham on the 21st. We’d need to set off really early in the morning to check in by 07:00. The other downside was that the return flight was not due to land until 23:00. I booked a Hotel close to the Airport for that night as I guessed that neither of us would want to drive home in the small hours of the next morning.

When all the tickets and everything arrived, I showed them to Fiona.

“Dad?” she said when she’d seen everything.

“Don’t you want to go?”

“You know I do but I don’t have anything to wear for that amount of time away.”

“Funny that, neither do I. Why don’t we go shopping in Manchester a week on Saturday?”