A Servant of the Company (7 page)

Anthea heard the post drop onto the mat in the hall. It was earlier than usual and by the thud there must be quite a batch. Sorting quickly through the letters, one pile for her, junk mail as usual, the smaller pile for Steve. Would there be any responses to the dozens of job applications he had made, she hoped so as she couldn’t bear to see him getting depressed over his lack of employment. He had been devastated by his dismissal from the Army and she knew he had a right to be angry. There was no way he would ever have got involved with drugs, someone had been very clever and left him without a chance of being cleared. She had never seen Corporal Jennings, but Steve must have upset him at some time because he had given evidence against him. Evidence which she knew was untrue, but could not prove. Taking the letters, she went up to the bedroom which she had given to Steve until he could eventually find work and a place of his own. Their relationship was that of very good friends. Steve had never tried to take advantage of her, and she respected him for that. Not that she would reject him if he ever did make the move.

She knocked on his door half opening it. ‘Are you decent?’ She put her head on one side as she awaited a response. He wouldn’t be asleep at this time, he was usually out by nine o’clock and at the job centre by nine fifteen.

‘Come in Anth, I was just coming downstairs. Don’t say I’ve got some replies at last.’

He was excited seeing the number of envelopes in her hand, hoping that they wouldn’t have the same response as those already received.

Anthea stood by the bed as he sat down to open the letters one by one. ‘Regret, regret, re bloody gret.’ The first three were two liners thanking him for his interest but no job. The fourth was different, in the envelope was a cutting from a newspaper. ‘What do you think of this Anthea, it’s very odd, just an advert with a scribbled note saying ‘APPLY.’ He passed the cutting to her for her comments. She was so sensible and level headed and would have an idea what it was all about.

‘Steve, I’ve never come across anything like it. I would think someone who knows you for what you are really worth has put in a good word for you with the people advertising. Could it be one of your officers?’ She passed the advert back to him.

‘The job is for a business development manager, I don’t know anything at all about that. I just don’t understand it.’ He put the advert on the bed and opened the rest of the mail. There was nothing in any of the letters that would put him at his ease. The only positive thing was lying on the bed covers.

‘What have you got to lose Steve, it’s an opportunity. For God’s sake apply and see what comes of it. Once you are there, I’m sure you will do well. If you impress me, then you would impress any of these people.’

She spoke with such conviction that Steve was immediately moved to take action.

‘Would you mind if I used your computer Anthea, I’m quite good with Microsoft Word, but have terrible handwriting.’ It was something he had tried to correct, but it had been low on his list of priorities when he was in the Army. He collected all the rejections together and would check them off against his list of applications.

‘I keep telling you, the computer is there to be used. You don’t have to ask every time.’ She grinned at him and said, ‘I know you are only a bloody lodger, but you are a welcome one. If there is ever a problem, I’ll discuss it with you, but I can’t ever imagine that happening.’ She turned to leave the room with Steve sitting on the bed gazing at her.

‘Do you know you’ve saved my life. I just don’t know what I’d do without you.’ He got up, walked to the door and put his arms around her, his eyes filled with tears. He held her close before stepping back and giving Anthea a chance to leave the room. She too had tears in her eyes, but she didn’t let Steve see them. She had liked the strength of him holding her and would have liked to have stayed there longer, but knew he was just showing his appreciation for what she had done for him.

‘I will have to dash or I’ll be late for work. I may be the boss’s daughter but he doesn’t treat me differently from anyone else, if I’m late, his voice will let everyone know. He doesn’t take any prisoners, isn’t that what the Army would say?’ She regretted mentioning the Army as soon as she had opened her mouth. It was tactless as she was well aware that any mention would only open up Steve’s wounds.

He didn’t show that it had hurt. ‘Have a good day Anthea. Tonight you are getting a stir fry, I’ll show you I’m not totally useless. Dinner’s on the table at 6 o’clock precisely, so don’t be late.’ He gave her a wave as she headed for the front door.

She had to escape, if she didn’t, tears would flow. It was all so very sad. He was such a good man and must feel the world was against him. With luck there might be a better response from his application for the business development manager job.

Settling in front of the computer waiting, he decided that the best thing to do first was try and find out something on the net about the job which was in the Pharmaceutical Industry. He trawled through site after site, and felt no wiser at the end of it. He was disappointed but reassured himself re-reading the advert again. This time the ‘Full Training Will Be Given’ item hit home. He had another life line.

Finishing his letter of application, he attached one of the many CV’s, already prepared and put a first class stamp on the envelope. It had to get to the post box as soon as possible, there had been too many setbacks. This was the opportunity he had wanted but never thought would come. In the CV, he did not mention that he had been dismissed from the Army, this would have negated an impressive service history. He just hoped that he would not be asked for his discharge certificate if he got an interview. He didn’t want to lie, bluffing was another matter. He recalled his R.S.M.s favourite expression when talking about officers. ‘Bullshit baffles brains, and don’t you forget it.’ He hoped the maxim wouldn’t have to be used, but it was one for his armoury. Putting on his trainers, he decided that this was a morning to jog to the job centre via the nearest post box, there was still a need to check things out, but he now had hope. For the next two weeks, he was up first waiting impatiently for the Postman who was not allowed to hand over mail in the street, so Steve had no option but to try and control his impatience. It wasn’t easy.

‘I thought these characters started work at God knows what time, but certainly bloody early. Why do they take so long to deliver?’  

‘Calm down won’t you, your ranting won’t get the letters here any quicker. Where is that calm unflappable young man I once knew?’ She clenched her fist and gave him a playful punch on the shoulder. ‘Sit down for a minute and I will make us a cup of coffee before I do the ten minute dash to work.’ He was particularly jumpy she thought, but it was understandable. She had never been in his predicament but could imagine what a nightmare it must be for someone like Steve. ‘Your letter will come, I know it, so take it easy and just sit back and enjoy the coffee.’ How she hoped that she was right, she would hate to see his confidence shattered even further. ‘You know us girls, we have an instinct about things. You deserve the opportunity and with luck it will come your way. Must dash, there’s work to be done, give me a ring if you hear anything, I mean it, I will be very annoyed if you don’t.’ She was smiling as she headed for the door.

Steve smiled too. ‘Yes Miss, I will do exactly as I’m told, don’t worry.’ The front door closed leaving Steve to face the gulf between the present and the time the post was delivered. He was washing the coffee cups when the sound of letters being pushed through the letter box had him scurrying to collect them. Using a knife to slit open the tops of the letters, he opened each in turn, with the alternate feelings of hope and disappointment. It was the third letter which caused him to shout out in relief. He had an interview for the business development job. ‘That’s bloody marvellous,’ he said out loud. ‘Perhaps my luck is changing at last.’ He read and re-read the letter from the recruitment consultancy. The interview was to be held in a smart hotel, his turn before the interviewers was 11.00 a.m. on the 17
th
. ‘That’s just over a week away.’ He had to calm down, being over excited was not his normal self. He started to breathe steadily, and was soon calm again. The remaining two letters were rejections, but it didn’t matter, there was something about the positive response which gave him hope. He must let Anthea know, having promised, and she would be hopping mad if he didn’t pick up the phone and tell her. In his excitement, it took him three goes before keying in the right combination of numbers to ring her father’s car showroom and although the call was answered very quickly, it seemed like an age to Steve. He was put through to her immediately.

‘Hi, Anthea.’ Before he could say another word, she had cut in.

‘I told you to be patient, didn’t I? So there. When is the interview?’

She was so happy for him, the old Steve now full of enthusiasm had returned as he used to be. She sighed with relief, it was a moment they had both longed for, and with luck he would soon be on the way to a new and exciting future.

A letter of confirmation was required, which Steve quickly finished. It was in the post box ten minutes later. It was with a light step that Steve jogged back to arrange the evening meal. Tonight they would celebrate, no cooking, no washing up, someone else could do that. He knew she liked Indian food, and a new restaurant which recently opened had been given high praise by the food critic in the local newspaper. Most of his savings were still intact, he could afford this small luxury and Anthea deserved it for all the support she had given him. Being aware that his life would have been grim without her was constantly on his mind. A phone call reserved a table for two at 8.00 p.m. It was a very relaxed Steve who headed for the kitchen, opened the fridge door and took out a beer. Raising the bottle to his lips he said quietly, ‘Thank you world, maybe you’re not such a bad place to live after all.’ The traumas of the past weeks although still powerful in his mind, were suddenly easing and tonight he would relax completely.

Anthea rushed into the flat at exactly 6.00 p.m. ‘Come on then, show me the letter. I’ve been kept in suspense long enough. The afternoon has really dragged.’ She threw her bag and jacket on to the chair, and waited for Steve to get it. ‘Although I believe it, I want to read every word myself. I hope you don’t mind.’ Was she being too presumptuous? Maybe he would consider it to be very personal and be hurt by her apparent nosiness. All she wanted was for him to recover completely from his setbacks with help and all the support she could give him.

He left the room for a minute and returned waving the envelope in the air. ‘Take a look and give me your opinion, don’t pull any punches. You know I value your enquiring mind, you might see some meaning in it that I have missed.’ He passed the letter into her outstretched hand.

It didn’t take her long to read the one page letter. ‘There’s nothing here to be worried about Steve, it’s all very straightforward. From your point of view, I think you should think carefully about the sort of questions you want to ask them. O.K., they are interviewing you, but at the same time you are doing the same to them. It would show you in your true light, keen, inquisitive and eager to learn. Lots of Brownie points there. What do you think?’ She watched him as he considered her comments. He might have already had thoughts along this path, but it wouldn’t do any harm reinforcing them.

‘To be honest I haven’t thought about anything other than getting my suit ready. You are absolutely right about the questions. It will also help divert them from going too deeply into my Army career. If they do that, I’ve had it. Who would believe that I had been set up on a drugs charge? Nobody.’ His shoulders slumped forward momentarily, but he soon snapped out of a potential return to misery. ‘Tomorrow I will have a list of well considered questions and you can check them out for me when you get home from work.’

She passed the letter to him and settled back into her chair. ‘Now where is this meal you said would be ready, I can’t smell anything coming from the kitchen. I was thinking on the way home that everything would be ready and then we could go out for a drink later to celebrate.’ She tried to look angry but Steve could see she was joking.

‘Do you know, one of the many things I like about you Anthea, your tolerance level is that of a saint. I just don’t know how you put up with me. To make up for my lack of action in the kitchen, I’ve booked a table at the Bengal Lancers for eight o’clock, so I hope you won’t die of starvation between now and then. Would you like something to eat now to stave off the hunger pains?’ There were almost two hours to go before they were due at the restaurant and Steve wanted her to enjoy his treat. ‘Can you hang on that long Anth?’ He hoped she could, and soon got the response he hoped for.

Simon Colbourne turned into the gated entrance of Somerston Manor, the Surrey family home. Tapping the horn twice, he waited to have a word with Dan and Bridget O’Brien who lived in the gatehouse. They had been employed by the Colbournes soon after Simon was born, Dan looking after maintenance and gardening while Bridget acted as housekeeper.

The gatehouse door opened and the O’Brien’s came out together as usual to greet Simon. It was a mutually agreeable experience, but Bridget did worry about Simon’s lack of a wife. She understood the reason for his parents moving abroad on their retirement, but wondered if living alone in the manor house was good for him. She would love to see children running about the extensive lawns, not just one on its own as Mister Simon had been, but lots of fun and laughter from a number of children. She had never had a family of her own but had been almost a mother to Simon before he left for boarding school when he was eight years old.

‘When you say you will be home about six o’clock Mr. Simon, you’re always on time. I’ve taken your meal out of the fridge, all you have to do is pop it into the microwave.’ Bridget smiled, she got tremendous pleasure knowing there wouldn’t be a scrap of food left once he sat down to eat at the kitchen table in the manor house. ‘I’ve left instructions on timing so you have nothing to worry about.’ Stepping back she waited for Simon’s acknowledgement.

‘Bridget, if you keep feeding me like this, how will I ever find a wife to come up to your standard. You know I can’t resist your cooking, it’s the one thing I look forward to at the end of the day. Look at Dan there, he’s the picture of contentment. That’s what you do to us Bridget.’ They all laughed at the comments, it was a pattern repeated regularly and one which Simon enjoyed. He was at home with the O’Brien’s but they always treated him with the old fashioned respect of servant to master. While his father had been at work and his mother involved with either charity work or playing bridge, Simon had spent most of his childhood with the O’Brien’s prior to going to boarding school and he felt he knew them better than he did his parents.

‘Perhaps we can have a walk around the grounds in the morning Dan and you can update me on the new season’s growth.’ It was something he had done on a regular basis since leaving university fifteen years earlier.

‘I’ll be in the potting shed soon after eight o’clock, I’ll wait there for you. There’s a load of things for me to do so you don’t have to rush.’ There were some mornings when the bedroom curtains in the manor house wouldn’t open until after ten o’clock so the potting shed was the best place to wait. The forecast was still showing intermittent showers so Dan planned his day accordingly.

‘Ten past eight it is then Dan. I’ve a fairly full day ahead but I have to get my priorities right don’t I? Well, must dash and enjoy your excellent food Bridget. See you in the morning Dan.’ He smiled and waved to them as he drove the hundred yards to the manor house.

The lifestyle Simon Colbourne enjoyed had been built up by succeeding members of the family over one hundred and thirty years when hard work and careful investing ensured a high standard of living for Simon and his parents, the only surviving members of the family, two world wars having taken their toll. The manufacture of both fine and reproduction antique furniture had seen the company evolve into one of the leading businesses in Europe with a strong worldwide export market. The family had been ahead of its time in developing a bond between the company and its workforce, promotions to board and senior management level were always from within, while recruitment was usually from relatives of current employees. With a pension fund and excellent working conditions, vacancies occurred only on death or retirement, at which time someone would move up a grade and a new apprentice recruited to ensure continuity in the future. The standards expected were high and the workforce did not disappoint the company.

The key personnel had been trained by Simon’s father and knew the business inside out, so when he was appointed managing director on his father’s retirement there was very little for him to do. At times Simon did wonder if the situation had been deliberately planned. His attendance at the factory although welcomed did slow down production, something he was aware of. His remedy was to tour the factory and adjacent offices only on the first Monday of the month when the board members discussed past results, putting any shortfall in either production or sales under the microscope. If necessary they revised the company’s approach to the forthcoming trading period, but it was only rarely that plans had to change.

Being just a figurehead did not bother Simon at all. His attendance at work made no difference to the end result. The staff at Colbournes still respected him, not just because of his name, or being managing director. He was liked for his personality and apparent interest in each individual. To Simon it was an enjoyable game, played with consummate ease. Prior to any factory visit he would call the company secretary for an update on all he needed to know about the state of the business and relevant personnel issues. Using his computer, he would tap into the company’s financial files from home so could talk knowledgably with the senior managers on turnover, profit levels, and stock holding. This always came after his enquiries about their families had been answered. This interest also extended to the general workforce. If he heard of an individual with a problem which he could help resolve, he would do it as his father, grandfather and great grandfather had done in the past. There were no personnel problems at Colbournes with this working atmosphere. The company was a safe ship progressing well on a calm sea, even though the captain spent very little time on the bridge. The highly skilled crew knew their jobs, and interference free, were happy and contented. So the business and its committed workforce continued to enjoy success.

One piece of company business Simon never missed was the annual trade fair at the National Exhibition Centre in Birmingham where Colbournes always had a stand, the results contributing to both the annual turnover and the company’s reputation.

The appeal to Simon was not furniture, but Sonia Breckmayer, an attractive American Buyer making her annual visit to restock her company’s stores. They had established a relationship over a five year period which always led to mutual pleasure and an exhausting three days. To the company’s advantage, she always filled her order book which Simon accepted as an additional bonus.

Bridget’s meal was its usual cordon bleu standard as he knew it would be. In the morning he would mention it to Dan who would be sure to pass the message on to Bridget. Moving into his study, he poured himself a gin and tonic and relaxed. It had been a good day at work. With the second gin and tonic his thoughts turned to Sonia. Less than two weeks to go before he would see her in Birmingham. It wasn’t necessary to book a room, he would share hers as he had done on previous occasions.