by Mark Bailey
‘Well, you should have taken it as bereavement leave,’ answered Annis. ’It’s in your contract; it’s part of your entitlement.’
Good to see you’re both on my side, thought Theo, looking over at Annis and then back at Rosie.
‘Milly has taken a total of four and a half weeks’ holiday,’ continued Rosie. ‘In my position, as human resources manager and paymaster, I will restore two of those weeks back onto the payroll system as bereavement leave. To date then, she is owed one and a half weeks in holiday leave.’
‘Look, can I have a moment alone with Dr. Maddix, please?’ asked Annis.
Milly and Rosie left the room.
‘I’m not quite sure what your intentions were in calling this meeting with me, so perhaps you can clarify them?’ asked Annis. ‘But consider first that you have given me no history, no background and as far as I can see Dr. McTaggart has been totally honorable even to the point of taking holidays instead of bereavement leave … that’s annual leave she is entitled to.’
‘I am worried about the time she is taking off to travel back to Australia for that bloody court case,’ replied Theo, totally frustrated.
‘It doesn’t matter where she travels to, or why she is going. It’s none of your business and has nothing to do with anything here. Now, as of today, she is entitled to approximately three and a half weeks’ holiday leave after Rosie restores two of the weeks she has taken as holidays back to bereavement leave.’
‘So, what happens if she takes longer in Australia than three and a half weeks?’
‘Nothing happens. You have stated in your work contract with her that you both must be in agreeance with the dates and times of her proposed leave. You don’t want her taking all her leave in one lot, as you have stated in the agreement. Also, you have agreed to Milly traveling to Australia because you are giving her time off work to go. That part of your employment contract works both ways, you know, especially if she is required by law to attend court, even if it is in another country. So, what was your intention in having me attend this meeting? Do you want Milly to resign? Is that where this is heading?’
‘I don’t know,’ answered Theo. ‘I don’t want Milly to leave.’
Taking the initiative, Annis called Milly and Rosie back into Rosie’s office.
‘Right then …’ began Annis.
‘Sorry to interrupt you, Annis, but first I have something I want to say. It will save some time.’
‘Alright, Dr. McTaggart.’
‘Rightio, Theo,’ said Milly glaring at him. ‘I’ve considered your treatment of me, especially since my sister’s funeral and the court case. You have barely spoken a dozen words to me since February, and I believe you have treated me with total contempt. And then there’s today … you and your bully-boy tactics.’
‘What are you talking about, Milly?’
‘Just shut up and listen for once in your life, Theo, will you? I’ve decided that if you want me to remain as an employee of Watford Therapy, you will increase my annual salary by £20,000. You will also need to date the increase in my pay from last Thursday, and the pay increase will include any time I take to fulfill my legal obligation back in Australia. Also, I will retain the company car and all other work entitlements I currently enjoy. Now I don’t expect you will agree to this, Theo, and I don’t care. I have given you one hundred percent since working here, and mostly you have treated me like a piece of dog shit you’ve picked up on your shoe. If you do agree to it, though, you will have a legal contract for me to sign before I leave for Australia tomorrow. The only concession I will make is to reduce my required time spent counseling back from seventy-five to fifty percent work time. Rosie and I are leaving for Heathrow tomorrow morning at 7:00 and I am booked on a Qantas flight leaving tomorrow afternoon at 1:30 for Australia. If you don’t agree to my conditions, Theo, then to clarify my position using some Australian vernacular, you can shove your job up your arse.’
With that, Milly shook hands with Annis, said goodbye to Rosie and, ignoring Theo, walked out the front door.
‘What about the rest of today’s appointments?’ asked Theo, looking shell-shocked.
‘You’re a psychologist; there are only 2.64 hours to fill in. You fix it,’ answered Rosie who followed behind Milly, catching up with her as she was about to get into her car.
‘That was brilliant, Milly. Serve him right!’
‘I’m sorry about swearing at him, Rosie. I promised I wouldn’t, but I just couldn’t help it. I felt sorry for him at first; he looks terrible today … quite sick.’
‘I agree, he doesn’t look well. Your going away tomorrow may be playing on him.’
‘I’ve been good and really curbed my language … like I promised I would, it’s just, sometimes …’ She looked at the ground, then looked up with more fire in her eyes. ‘How did he ever get a doctorate in psychology? It makes a mockery of our profession. He’s just plain dumb if he thinks he can get away with rubbish like that.’
Rosie agreed. ‘It’s like you’ve said before with Theo; it’s his narcissistic personality … he can’t help himself. Anyway, regardless of what happens, I’m on your side.’
‘Thanks, Rosie,’ replied Milly as she closed the driver’s door of her car and stood to lean against it with her arms folded.
‘There’s something else I need to tell you, Milly. I got a phone call from your Aunt Christy … Anderson, I think? Anyway, she called around a fortnight ago. She asked how you were and I told her you were quite stressed after all that had happened with Sibby. She asked to speak with you, but I put her off because you told me what she’s like over the phone … she certainly can talk! I told her you were busy with appointments all day. She told me that your Uncle James, her husband, had passed away from complications of prostate cancer.’
‘Oh dear,’ said Milly, ‘you should have told me.’
‘She asked me not to when she realized she wasn’t going to speak to you straightaway. I told her you would be home by the end of April, early May, so she was happy to bide her time until then. She didn’t want me to say anything because she thought it might put pressure on you to return home early, for the funeral. She asked me to let you know a day or so before you flew home. So … ’
‘Thanks, Rosie, it’s probably for the best. I know he’s been quite ill lately. He was very good to me, considering I was only a prick relation.’
‘A prick relation?’
‘Yes. We weren’t related by blood; he was married to my mother’s sister, to Aunt Christy … only related through his … oh, you know, a prick relation,’ said Milly smiling.
‘I get it,’ answered Rosie laughing. ‘More Australian vernacular?’
‘Don’t forget you have to get me to the airport tomorrow, regardless of what happens here today.’
‘I know, Milly. I’ll call you when I have some news.’
Rosie returned to her office where Theo and Annis were busily working away. She felt like giving Theo a piece of her mind but thought better of it while Annis was there. Milly had put him back in his place.
As she sat on one of the visitor chairs in her office, Theo handed her a three-page document headed Addendum and asked if, after she read it, she could add anything relevant to the changes in Milly’s new employment contract.
Rosie smiled to herself. She called Milly later, but she didn’t answer.
Chapter 4.
It was early in the morning Perth time, so when she arrived back at her unit at Saint Albans Road, after their meeting, Milly sent an email off to Aunt Christy and her mother telling them she had just received the news from Rosie and how upset and sad she was to hear of Uncle James’ passing. She mentioned, literally as a footnote, as a ‘P.S.’ at the bottom of her email, that she was flying to Australia the next day and they would catch up shortly. The email finished with Looking forward to catching up with you, love you both heaps! XXX — Milly.
Milly felt remorseful on news of her uncle’s death. Her mood was tinged
with pangs of guilt. He had contributed tens, if not hundreds of thousands of dollars, to her education and her upbringing, paying her Hecs debt and paying her rent. Who knows what else he had paid for? He never mentioned his benevolence and Mia never discussed it. It was a given, taken for granted that her uncle would help. It wasn’t just him, it was Aunt Christy too, but she’d never worked, so Milly considered her uncle had contributed the lion’s share. She had fobbed Aunt Christy off during her time in the U.K., not keeping in touch or contacting her by phone because she waffled on so much. Indeed, she hadn’t spoken to her uncle for several years. Her feeling of guilt soared when she considered that both Aunt Christy and her mother had only discovered she would be flying home shortly in a conversation with Rosie, a work colleague — hence the postscript in the email. It helped trivialize her feeling of guilt.
Rosie arrived to collect Milly just prior to 7:00 the next morning, and they drove onto the M25 for the twenty-five-minute drive south to Heathrow. Rosie was quiet; she sensed Milly’s mood. She had come to love Milly dearly and even considered the chance she might not see her good friend again; she had a lot of luggage for someone traveling away for just a few weeks.
Milly didn’t question her about the previous day’s meeting after she’d left. She didn’t ask if Theo had said anything or whether he’d agreed to the contract changes. Has she decided to leave, wondered Rosie. Was she returning to Australia permanently? She took another approach.
‘Your Aunt Christy sounds like a beautiful, caring person … and your uncle too. When she called, I didn’t say a lot; I had trouble getting a word in … but I did tell her how you talked endlessly about them … how they had virtually paid for your education, that you would be no-one without their help. Then she told me about James, and I remarked how sad it was because you were so looking forward to seeing them again, to thank them, now that your career had taken off.’
‘Thank you,’ said Milly as she turned to Rosie. ‘You have no idea how much that helps.’ She thought then of Dr. Tess’ remark that Rosie was very perceptive.
Milly’s mood lightened, and the conversation continued until they reached Heathrow. Rosie offered to park her car and come in with Milly and sit for a while, to shout her a coffee. Milly considered the cost of parking and knew Theo would need Rosie back at Watford Therapy, so she dismissed her offer and thanked her.
‘I’ll talk to you soon,’ said Milly as she kissed Rosie goodbye and walked with her bags on a trolley into Terminal 3.
It was 12.45 Wednesday afternoon as Milly sat in business class on the Qantas Airbus A380 while passengers embarked preparing for clearance to take off for Dubai. She had originally been booked on a £990 flex fare but had converted it to business class on discovering there were two seats still available. She briefly looked at her copy of the new employment contract in which Theo had agreed to everything she asked for the previous day. Rosie had turned deathly white and feigned a heart attack grabbing at her chest when Milly told her she was leaving Watford Therapy as she dropped her at Heathrow. Then smiling, calling Rosie ‘silly,’ she explained that she would do her best never to leave her with Theo on her own again, except for holidays of course. Milly signed the new contract.
She considered then the extra £1400 she paid for her business class seat. It was a treat for being drug-free for over six months now. She had checked her bank account that morning and along with the £5,500 already there, was four weeks’ pay from Watford Therapy — another £3,350 after taxes. Theo assumed she would sign the contract. Milly had converted £1000 at Heathrow, a conversion to around $1550 AUD, so she had money when she arrived at Perth airport.
She was just about to turn her phone off when it pinged as a jumble of delayed emails arrived including Apple Music, Google Alert, Twitter via her new Twitter account, and one from Aunt Christy. She told Milly how pleased she was to have her coming home, what a lovely girl that Rosie is and that she needed to meet with her because she had something important to give her. There goes a week of my holidays was Milly’s initial reaction, and she immediately felt guilty again. That was her last thought as she drifted off for a twenty-minute catnap. When she woke, they were lining up for takeoff.
Some people hated flying and airports; Milly loved them. She started thinking, as QF2 roared in a westerly direction down runway 09R, for takeoff to Dubai, where she would board an Emirates Boeing 777-300ER to fly on to Perth. The aircraft flew out over Berkshire, Surrey; then it banked to the right and tracked southeast for the Middle East, with the 5,500 km flight distance scheduled to take just over seven hours.
She thought of Windsor and Stopford. She knew little of Windsor except that he was married with two young girls and lived in Twickenham west of London. She knew even less of Stopford, except for reports that he was hyperactive, over-confident and over-sexed, at least according to P.C. Stone. She laughed when she considered her best friend Dannii King’s take on men like Stopford. He’d fuck anything with hair on it, including the barber’s floor.
The ‘remain seated’ indicator had been switched off, and passengers were free to move about the cabin. ‘Would you like to order a drink, Dr. McTaggart?’ the flight attendant asked Milly, wrenching her from her thoughts.
She didn’t really feel like drinking and had only indulged once since being on the drug-and-sex wagon over the past six months. She felt she needed to get some value for money, though, to treat herself, so she ordered a Bacardi and Coke. ‘Keep ’em coming,’ she requested, ‘and by the way, my name is Milly.’
Her thoughts returned to the two detectives. Apart from sex and the basic need to survive, most humans craved money and power. Money often led to power, but neither Windsor nor Stopford had money, not in a real sense anyway. They could derive a sense of power, though, from their position, their rank. Milly guessed what had happened when their meeting finished at McDonalds in Watford. Windsor was happy for Stopford to retain his lower rank as Detective Sergeant, regardless of anything he said to the contrary. However, Stopford’s threat to leave the MIT invalidated some of Windsor’s need for total power over him. He was, after all, still ranked higher, so Stopford would be given the promotion at Windsor’s renewed urging. He didn’t want Stopford to leave; he was showing potential. He just needed managing. His promotion would pacify him for a while, but Stopford was a climber; he loved power. Milly was counting on it.
‘Here you go, Milly, another Bacardi and Coke.’
‘Thank you, Nelson,’ said Milly looking at his name on the Qantas uniform lapel badge. ‘You’re very kind.’
The thought of Stopford and his carnal urges drew her thoughts back to her own sexual problems. She believed the anti-depressants that Tess had prescribed were working; she was on the right track. She had struggled with her abstinence from sex prior to her appointment with Tess. It was only by determination and the promise she made to her dead sister in the Croydon Morgue that she had remained celibate over the past six months. It had been a battle she had been close to losing when she looked for Rowan’s phone number, her last candy-man, and part-time lover. Fortunately, she had deleted the number; otherwise, who knows, she might have returned to her old ways.
Milly used an analogy to explain her sexual malaise. Two women shared a flat, and they both had a key to the front door. When one arrived home and checked the door, it was locked. She knocked, then knocked louder; she wanted to get in. Totally exasperated, she searched around in her bag in the dark for her key, finally opening the door. Then the friends had a row, so the one who had been knocking left and handed her key over. But still she returned sometimes, knocking on the door, she was persistent and loud, but eventually left; she had no way of getting in — she didn’t have a key.
Milly’s problem was that friend knocking, persistently, louder and louder. She had tried to ignore it but couldn’t. She knew the friend would get in any way; she had a key. So, she gave into it; she answered the door this time, and every other time she knocked and then went and got into tro
uble. Tess had given her another option with the anti-depressants. They would take that other person’s key away. She still knocked, but not quite as often and not quite as loud. She had become accustomed to not being let in. Milly was winning the battle, but she needed to be vigilant, to keep that person and the key to the front door away from each other. She needed to keep taking the anti-depressants.
‘Would you like something to eat, Milly?’ asked Nelson, offering her a plate and a choice of oysters, mussels, some light savory toast and what looked to be a basil pesto and a selection of dry biscuits.
‘No thank you, Nelson,’ replied Milly, draining her glass. ‘I’ll have another Bacardi and Coke, though.’
Milly turned her thoughts off as she directed her attention back to her employment contract. It had Annis’ mark all over it. It was professional and, that’s right, there it was, her company logo, U.K. Employment Services, Annis Baird, Managing Director. Milly took the time to read through the contract and as far as she could see it was foolproof. Poor little Annis, Milly thought, smiling, I wonder what she thought of Theo Wanker? She was starting to feel a bit tipsy now as Nelson handed her another Bacardi and Coke. She giggled quietly to herself. Theo Wanker had a ring to it.
Dr. Judas James, the forensic pathologist, was the next person that popped into her head. People seemed to pop in and out when she’d had a few drinks. They had become quite friendly, with each referring to the other as ‘doctor’. She had asked him to call her Milly, although she didn’t really want to call him Judas. He declined, so Milly played along with him — with Dr. James. He had called over a month ago to give her the results of some final toxicology tests. Sibby had taken a cocktail of drugs including heroin, but it pained Milly to think of her sister. The alcohol made her sad, as she started to well up, and become emotional. So, blowing her nose, she turned her thoughts to the other part of their conversation, the D.N.A. phenotyping.
Jude knew of Beth’s success in identifying the owner of the semen found on her sister. He concluded it was quite feasible that someone could make the connection since both Beth and Kerford lived in Croydon. Statistically, if Kerford drove a vehicle and Beth worked on breath-and-drug-testing units, sooner or later they would meet. The odds might have been in the millions to one, but so was winning the U.K. National Lotto and someone won that, usually twice every week. More unusual was the match between the photo-fit and the photo of Kerford; everything had gone right to make that connection.