It Always Rains in November Read online

  The only moral vindication of the job was that by employing her graduate assistant Louis, she was a small business employer and therefore putting something back into the economy. Apart from that, it paid well and although Marie hated presentations she was pleased that as a self employed consultant all the bollocks that goes with corporate political arse licking was something she could happily avoid.

  Today, she and Louis were about to meet a new client, Crouts Furnishers plc. She had already met the Finance Director, Jeffrey Parker, briefly and was not looking forward to seeing him again. Arriving at Crouts reception, and signing in, Marie couldn’t help asking the elderly receptionist, “It’s an unusual building this. Offices in the middle of residential streets. Was it somebody’s house once?”

  The woman gestured at the surroundings with a swollen-knuckled hand.

  “It was an old aged home once. Apparently one or two of the residents still haunt the place. So people have said anyway.”

  As they sat down, Louis whispered in Marie’s ear, “She’s ancient enough to be one of the ghosts.”

  The receptionist kept Marie and Louis waiting for 10 minutes before contacting Parker’s secretary. Eventually, the auditors were directed up a flight of stairs to Jeffrey Parker’s office.

  Looking through the window they could see him working on the Times crossword. Marie thought how tiny Jeffrey Parker seemed within his office. Apart from his desk and chair, there was a two piece suite that reminded Marie of one she’d seen at the Palace of Versailles, and another two chairs that did not match the settee, and were also living room, rather than office chairs. Paintings adorned the walls and Marie recognised Monet and Van Gogh replicas. She thought it like a part translocated home, rather than a modern office. As Jeffrey gave himself a congratulatory clenched salute on completion of the crossword, he caught Marie’s eye. Rather than beckon them in he came outside to greet Marie, oozing fake charm.

  “Marie, hi, good to see you, can I get you a drink, tea or coffee perhaps?”

  As he shook hands, his face was close to hers and his gaze riveted upon her breasts. Parker was a reasonably attractive man for his age but she took a step back and withdrew her hand. He continued to smile at her breasts but they weren’t smiling back. Marie resisted the urge to fasten her jacket; he was giving her the creeps. Still, he was the client and she hoped that she did not look as uncomfortable as she felt. A fixed frozen smile was still on his face. She wondered whether he was doing this on purpose – exercising his status over her – surely he knew that leering at her and her breasts was not appropriate behaviour. It must be obvious that she was uncomfortable.

  “Jeffrey, this is Louis, he will be assisting me on the audit.”

  “No problem, as long as he maintains the professionalism that we expect from our consultants.”

  Jeffrey did not adjust his eye contact from Marie’s breasts to Louis and, in desperation, she dropped her executive case and turned her back on him, in order to pick it up and move away. She bent down, certain that he was staring at her bum. Next time she would wear a pair of trousers and a pullover.

  “Jeffrey, are we meeting in your office?”

  “Yes, that’s right, Marie, go straight in.”

  Sitting in Jeffrey’s office was similarly difficult. Jeffrey’s chair was upright and high, whereas they were in the mismatched chairs that sunk well below his eye level. Short people would have had their legs dangling in mid air and Marie was grateful for all of her 5’6”. She perched on the edge of the chair, as sinking back would have exacerbated the effect of talking to a higher being. She noticed Louis did likewise.

  “You will find me very easy to work with.” Jeffrey’s gaze was fixed on Marie. He directed his comments only to her. “My team knows that they have to work hard but we play hard as well. Anything you want, I can get it for you. Within reason and grounds of good taste obviously.” He laughed. “Mind you good taste is subjective. I’ll not tell Mrs Parker if you don’t.”

  Marie shifted in her seat.

  “Well, you certainly polished off the Times crossword easily.”

  “Well that’s me – I can put a shine on anything.”

  “Yes, but I can’t work with a cock like you.”

  The last comment was not what Marie came out with. Instead, she laughed half-heartedly – more than Louis managed – and the corporate hierarchical experience was complete. Once the meeting began and Marie was into her stride, she assumed her more usual mantle of confidence and poise as she explained the audit. Before she finished, Jeffrey interrupted her.

  “This all sounds most interesting and well researched, Marie. I am sure that we will work together well.”

  “There is a lot more meat to the bone yet, Jeff…”

  “Details, shmetails. I don’t need to know all of those. I’ve plenty of people here who can go through the fine print with you.”

  “I...”

  “I am sure we can both accommodate and assist you. I will deal with the contracts and from hereon in your day to day contact will be Martin Miller.”

  “That’s....”

  “Martin is Financial Controller of the operating subsidiary and he will set you up with office space, download data and anything else you need. I suggest you meet him on Wednesday – I’ll email you contact details and so on.”

  “What...”

  Jeffrey was out of his seat and looking at his watch.

  “Marie, Larry, good to meet you both. I’m sorry I have to rush you, but I’ve another meeting due.”

  The auditors weren’t exactly bundled out of Jeffrey’s office but were soon stood outside Crouts.

  “Gonna be fun working with him, Marie.”

  “Don’t knock it, Louis, at least we’ll have some audit work and a signed contract. If I can tolerate him, should be a breeze for you.”

  Chapter 4

  Tuesday November 2nd – School and office

  At break Carly sat in the classroom, at the front, waiting for Miss Payne. It was going to be a one to one discussion, and she knew that she was in trouble this time. During lessons, the classroom always looked too small for all of them, with the cramped desks and chairs. The empty classroom felt vast, and she was nervous.

  Miss Payne was a bitch and was always picking on her. If the fat old cow said anything she wasn’t going to let her get away with it. She’d tell her to lose a couple of stone and sort out her hair...and her clothes. The blue dress that she had on today, her arse was about to explode out of it. Carly was wondering how her Dad would react, when Miss Payne came in and sat at her desk.

  “Hello Carly – you know why you’re here don’t you?”

  “Not really, miss. I ain’t done nothin’.”

  “The constant backchat, the talking in class, disrupting lessons, never doing any homework, 6 one hour detentions in the last fortnight, 3 of which you never bothered turning up for. Do I need to carry on?”

  “Yeah miss, but….”

  “But what Carly, go on, do tell me.”

  “Miss, why are you talking to me like that? You’re like, the same as me, being a bitch ...”

  “I beg your pardon. Are you calling me a bitch?”

  “Yes… I mean… Look Miss, it’s not always me who talks in class. You pick on me when, like, you hear people talking, even if it’s...”

  The teacher leaned forward in her chair. Carly was certain the chair creaked. She dared not laugh. Miss Payne had her angry face on.

  “Of course I do. And Mr Green and Mrs White and Mr Pink. We all have nothing better to do but pick on poor Carly Price.”

  “I thought sarcasm was the lowest...”

  “You’re telling me how I should speak to you. Is that how it goes, Carly? The badly behaved twelve year old girl is entitled to tell her teacher how to talk to her. When did we reverse roles here, Carly?”

  “Oh shut up, Miss.” Carly said it quietly but the rebellion was clearly audible and the Siberian
atmosphere grew several degrees frostier.

  “What did you say? Did you tell me to shut up? You are a very rude child.”

  If this had been a bar in the Wild West there would have been a big fight and the two protagonists would have ended up being firm friends and setting off together to enjoy jolly japes and lots of fun. But it wasn’t. It was a pissed off thirty year old teacher, sick of her life being dominated by stroppy, unpleasant teenage delinquents versus a particularly stroppy twelve year old, full of adolescent angst and sick of being picked on by bitchy teachers. Carly would have liked a scuff to release her rising tension.

  Instead, she responded by shrugging her shoulders and the one to one was over.

  “As ever, you and I make no effective communication and become entrenched in our mutual antagonism.”

  Carly’s nose wrinkled as she looked at her teacher.

  “What are you on about Miss? Entrenched in our what?”

  She expected Miss Payne to shout at her for being stupid, but her teacher just looked fed up.

  “Never mind, Carly, it doesn’t matter. Look, you will be put in isolation for one week. Your father will be contacted and asked to come up to the school to discuss your behaviour. If you carry on like this, you will be suspended with a view to permanent exclusion. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Crystal.” Carly didn’t care too much. What would he do anyway that hadn’t already been done to her? She left the office and as her first afternoon lesson had already begun, bunked off for the rest of the day.

  * * *

  Carl Price sat in Martin Miller’s office, waiting for Martin to come off the phone. He looked around for evidence of work. The table was clear, there were no files out and Miller had not hidden the Solitaire game on his PC. Glancing out the window, Carl counted three files on his own desk and four more on the floor beside it.

  After a few minutes, Martin came off the phone.

  “Carl, I’ve asked you in here because what you need to realise is that at Crouts we have professional standards and your persistent lateness is something that I will no longer tolerate. We need to set an example here. The forecasts I had asked you for were supposed to be on my desk by end of play Monday.”

  Carl frowned.

  “They were, Martin. I stayed here until 6.30 and finished it. I put them on your desk before I went home.”

  “6.30 was too late. I asked for it by 5 o’clock. This is what I mean, Carl. You are always late.”

  Carl wanted to reach over the desk and give his boss a well deserved smack in the mouth. Instead his face reddened and he blurted out. “You said Monday evening, end of play! How was I supposed to know that you would leave before 6.30? I never do.”

  Martin sat back, smiling in a way that appeared smug to Carl. That smack was coming closer.

  “You could have asked me Carl. That’s what being pro-active is about. You assumed that I’d still be here. It’s like Jeffrey was saying to me the other day – give me your hands a sec…”

  “What?”

  “Give me your hands – put them down flat with your fingers outstretched.”

  As if sharing a potential Nobel Prize discovery, Martin wrote each of the letters A-S-S-U-M-E on Carl’s left hand with the E having to be annotated on Carl’s right hand thumb.

  Then, triumphantly, Martin explained the mnemonic

  “Never assume anything because if you do it can make an ASS out of U and ME.” Martin put three of Carl’s fingers that spelled “ASS” then the remainder that spelt out U and ME. Carl looked at his boss open mouthed and moved his hands away. Martin continued with less enthusiasm.

  “Anyway, you get the point. We need to be moving in the right direction and that means all of us working flat out.”

  “Staying late and stuff you mean.” For a moment, Carl reminded himself of his daughter, arguing like a petulant teenager. The difference was that he was right of course. Martin the twat had pissed off early on Monday evening forgetting that he needed the forecast figures for a Tuesday morning meeting with Jeffrey Parker.

  “If Jeffrey sees fit to invite me to a business function after work that does not give you an opportunity to score points, Carl. Your work was late, you were in the wrong, apologise, get over it and buck your ideas up – alright?”

  Carl was sure he’d seen old ‘Nosey’ Parker in the office long after 6 o’clock, so that meant Miller had gone home early – he wouldn’t be invited for a night out with the Directors. Still, Carl knew he was going to lose this argument. The only way he could ever beat Martin was to walk out of the job at the worst possible time for the Twat. Given the mortgage and the teenage daughter, this was definitely not that time and so as much as the words “fuck” and “off” were nestling on his lips, he thought better of it.

  “Alright, Martin, no probs,” but his teeth were glued together as he spoke.

  Carl rose to leave but Martin called him back as he reached the door.

  “Oh, Carl, one other thing, we are having auditors in.”

  “Ok – when is he coming in?”

  “It’s a she apparently – and quite nice looking according to Jeffrey. She’s here for a week or two. I’ll be working with her to begin with, helping set her up, before she meets the team.”

  Carl could not help feeling sorry for the auditor – working with Martin and Jeffrey – it would be like working for Pervert and Perverter.

  Chapter 5

  Tuesday November 2nd – Nathan goes to school

  “Alright Nath. Safe. All good in the hood.What you doin’ round here?”

  “Came to see you lot slavin’ away.”

  Michael was walking home from school with Duayne, Jamie, Mark and Billy; the school that Nathan should have been attending for another six months but had not been to for the last six. The six lads had been best mates throughout secondary school. Nathan was the oldest and had been the tallest but maturing early had only delayed the inevitable. Billy towered over all of the others and Nathan was now the shortest. The others wouldn’t have wanted to take him on in a fight though.

  The street was filled with teenagers, shouting and swearing. If any of his other former schoolmates recognised him, none acknowledged him. Nathan had news for his mates from middle Waddon.

  “Guess who I saw on my way over here?”

  “Someone famous?”

  “Don’t be a dick, Duayne. Someone famous walking around between Waddon and Coulsdon? Who do you think it would be, Ronaldo visiting your Mum?”

  “No, Michael, visiting your Mum...”

  As the boys laughed at Duayne, Mark chimed in.

  “If Duayne’s Mum got visited by Ronaldo, she’d eat him up.”

  “Fuck off, Mark, are you saying my Mum’s fat?”

  “Not fat, Duayne, just big boned.”

  They were laughing at Duayne but Nathan wanted to tell them his story.

  “I’m walking down Waddon Road and guess who’s...”

  “Not again Nath. It wasn’t Ronaldo or Rooney so just tell us.”

  “OK, Slack, I’ll tell you, it was Alec.”

  There was a moment’s silence, then Billy spoke. “Not that knob. What’s he doin’ around?”

  “What you on about, Bill. He lives wound here. Why wouldn’t he be here? Nath, if that’s the big stowy – you’ve been off school too long mate.”

  “Point is, Jamie, he was beggin’ it with me, came over, like we were still best mates. As if we were still goin’ round graffiting the streets of Croydon together. It was weird.”

  “Nah, Nathan, he just don’t want you and Billy eggin’ his house or prank calling him at 3 in the morning anymore. He is a knob, but he was our mate and we went too far. My old man still gives me shit for the police comin’ round and doin’ us all for harassment.”

  “Your old man’s a Fed, Mark, that’s why you got more grief than the rest of us, but they’re right, Nath. Alec was a dickhead but you and Billy went too f
ar and we all got done for it.”

  “Michael’s wight, Nathan. He was with us when we stayed up all night, doin’ pwank calls and eggin’ buses and we had a laugh with him. But when he started to piss us all off we fucked him over. I thought he had it comin’ at the time. Now I just feel sowwy for him, even if he is a knobhead.”

  Nathan shrugged. “Yeah, OK, boys. Just thought you’d all wanna know that I saw him and it was moist.”

  The one thing Nathan shared with Alec is that neither boy attended the school anymore. Alec had been receiving home schooling. Nathan had hated school and it had been great for a while sitting at home, staying in bed and doing nothing. It was becoming a bit boring now. Seeing his mates laughing and talking about stuff that happened during the day made him feel left out. He had not even thought about the possibility of being caught or seen near the school until Michael reminded him.

  “Forget Alec, Nath. You being here now. What if teachers saw you?”

  “I think I’ve been forgotten about. Computer error or something. We haven’t heard anything for months.”

  The boys turned a corner on the way to the local cafe when they passed by three year 11 girls.

  “She is fucking fit.” Nathan turned round to look. Two blondes, one brunette all heavily made up with fake nails, big earrings and gobs to match.

  “Greazy.” Duayne was almost licking his lips.

  “You know that’s Kelly – you went out with her in year 9. Don’t you wemember?”

  “Nah. I can’t fuckin’ remember her. She couldn’t have looked like that then.”

  “You’ve had so many, Nath, that’s why you can’t remember her.” Michael’s joke was not too far off the mark for a lad who was just 16.

  “Hang on a sec, boys,” and Nathan was off, led by his penis to try his luck with Kelly. “Come on over with me.”