Writing for Fun
October 2019
Ever Hold A Grudge - Lynn Gale
‘Thank you Jane.’ Grant Fitzroy glanced up at his secretary as she placed a cup of tea in a china cup on his desk. She knew he would never drink from a mug.
‘I have your favourite biscuits,’ she beamed, ‘Malted Milk, had to drive over to that outlet outside town, it’s the only place that stocks them now.’
‘You are so good to me Jane.’ Fitzroy dunked one in his cup dripping tea over the plans to demolish the old church and build luxury flats laid across his desk.
‘Damn!’ he exclaimed.
‘I’ll print you off a new one, Mr Fitzroy,’ she offered brightly, heading off to the copier room.
He watched her go, Grant had built his business into a very profitable company with a turnover that enabled him to own a ski lodge in Klosters, racehorses and several vintage cars. Jane had been with him for ten years and was invaluable to Fitzroy, attractive and efficient, she kept his finances in order and knew everything about his business, he trusted her implicitly.
Even with a promise of a higher salary from a rival company, Jane remained loyal to Fitzroy’s.
What would he do without her?
‘Post’, Jolie Mae, a work experience student from the local school they were obliged to take, clopped into the office in her green Doc Martin’s. She peered at him from under a mop of black spiked hair chewing on the silver stud through her lip.
‘Addressed to me?’ he demanded, wondering why on earth this pretty girl would choose to have her face pierced like that.
Jolie Mae looked down at the packet she was carrying. ‘To that sneaky, low life, back stabbing fraud Fitzroy,’ she read, raising her studded eyebrows.
‘Give it to me.’ an embarrassed Fitzroy grabbed the packet from her hand.
‘Anything else Mr Fitzroy?’ she smirked as he shooed her out of the office.
Something to tell Keanu about tonight.
Fitzroy stared at the packet. What was going on? This was the second one this week.
Tearing it open he tipped the contents out onto the desk.
Another one of those cheap charms packed in pink and white confetti, miniature bells to go with the tacky angel that turned up yesterday. Must be those bloody protesters, but why so personal?
Jane returned carrying a new copy of the plans. ‘Are you okay, Mr Fitzroy, you look a bit shocked,’ she looked at the confetti covering his desk.
‘Someone’s idea of a joke Jane, nothing to worry about.’ He swept the offending items into a waste bin with his arm.
‘Would it be okay if I take an early lunch, Mr Fitzroy? I’m meeting my mother.’
‘That’s fine, as long as you are back by one for that Council meeting.’
Funny, she has never mentioned her mother before.
Jane grabbed her jacket off the stand. ‘Back by twelve thirty,’ she gave him her charming smile.
The hall was crowded, every seat taken and more squashed in at the back, some carrying hand written placards declaring gems such as, ‘Don’t altar our church’ and ‘Power to the steeple.’
There had been several noisy protests concerning this proposal, the most vocal being Anthea Browning. She blamed Fitzroy for her dismissal from her managerial position at York’s Conveyancing concerning a fraudulent deal over prime land. Anthea suffered the indignity of being escorted from the plush offices in full view of her colleagues who were sniggering and elbowing each other.
The meeting started off calmly with Fitzroy telling the gathered audience that fifty new flats commissioned on the site of the old church would bring in much needed revenue to St Oswell’s.
‘What it will bring is more congestion and pollution,’ shouted someone in the second row.
Fitzroy looked down and visibly blanched when he caught the twisted angry face of Anthea glaring up at him. Oh no, not her again
‘Ah, Miss Browning,’ he began.
‘It’s Ms,’ she interrupted.
‘Ms Browning, you yourself know we cannot stop progress, after all, this was your line of work not so long ago.’ He watched her squirm and redden, That should shut her up.
Gaining her composure and ignoring the mutterings around her Anthea rose to her feet. ‘Yes, Mr Fitzroy, I was one of those money grabbing, roughshod riding land grabbers like yourself.’
Someone cheered at the back of the hall, Fitzroy smiled weakly.
‘I now see things from the other side and I intend to protect the peace and tranquility of St Oswell’s, not turn it into an overcrowded commuter bolt hole for wealthy city workers. Also the children will never be able to afford those prices.’
‘We have an agenda in place enabling locals to rent some of the properties with an option to buy when their circumstances allow.’ He said smugly.
‘Yes, I know about this practice,’ Anthea turned to the crowd. ‘Keep raising the rents until they are no longer affordable, then evict the tenants.’
This statement spurred the placard holders at the back of the hall into action. The shouting began, others joined in, soon the place was in uproar. As chairs were turned over Jane ushered Fitzroy out of the hall through a back door and into her car, they sped away as a baying mob tumbled out of the hall.
‘Thank you Jane,’ Fitzroy turned to her breathing heavily. ‘I think they would have lynched me.’
Jane nodded sympathetically, turning on her radio Going to the chapel and we’re gonna get married sang the Dixie cups, Jane turned the volume up as they drove through the village.
‘Well, it can’t get any worse today.’ Fitzroy sighed as he looked out of the window.
‘Where are we going Jane? You have missed the turn off.’
‘Something I need to do,’ she assured him.
Pulling into a car park, Jane alighted from the car and walked round to the other side and opened the door.
‘You need me to come with you?’ A puzzled look crossed his face.
Five minutes later Fitzroy found himself sitting in the offices of Penbrow Solicitors alongside Jane.
Miles Penbrow was in a deep conversation with a woman who looked very familiar.
Where do I know her from?
‘Will this take long?’ he whispered to Jane ‘I really must get back to those plans.’
‘Not too long,’ she smiled.
The woman now turned and faced Fitzroy.
‘Hello Steven, it’s been a long time.’
Fitzroy stared in shock at the woman he jilted at the altar thirty years ago.
‘Alison, I, I,’ he stuttered ‘how did you find me?’
‘Someone has been keeping a close eye on you. Did you think changing your name and fleeing to the other side of the country after taking my savings, you would be safe? I suggest you cooperate with my solicitor. I am sure we can come up with an agreement.’ Fitzroy turned to Jane, ‘What do I do?’ he begged.
‘I suggest you do as you are told Father.’
His eyes widened as they darted between Jane and Alison. The similarities were now obvious.
Alison gave him that same charming smile.