Cherry Picking

by Tim Heath

  Jessica Ponter, walking slowly around and giving everything one last look, stood quietly for a few seconds in what once had been the family dining room but now stood empty. She had cried enough lately, she didn’t think that she’d have any tears left, but her eyes started to moisten as she stood there in the silence. Hearing her brother closing the car door outside, brought her back to reality; she had been running through happy thoughts from her childhood of Christmases spent around the table. The family home was no more, having been repossessed by her parents’ mortgage provider, the final straw in the financial battles. Jessica had worked in her father’s business for two years since leaving school. It was a computer software company and had employed up to thirty people before it started running into difficulties.

  The firm had lost several key people to a rival and then saw their market share drop. Suddenly jobs were on the line. Jessica started working in the finance section to try and steady the ship and it was here that she was first approached by HICL, now happy to answer their constant messages in the hope of being able to reduce the money they were paying out for insurance. That encounter started her friendship with Brendan Charles, who she saw as a confidant and support because of the help he offered. Though a CEO of a major UK company, he had personally been involved in the discussions with her father’s firm, which had meant Jessica meeting with Brendan herself several times over a matter of weeks. She had greatly appreciated the help and advice that he offered and they were able to reduce the out-goings in relation to the insurance. But despite all their hard work, the bottom dropped out of the market and they were left exposed with too few staff and no products to sell.

  Her father was left with mounting debts and no other option but to file for bankruptcy. The doors of the family business were closed, but not before the bank had filed to repossess their home. The repayments hadn’t been kept up by her father. Jessica had watched him go from a confident businessman to someone now burying his head in the sand. She found herself losing respect for the man she had grown up idolising, her male role model suddenly reduced to a weeping wreck.

  Over the coming weeks, there was a subtle change in her relationship with her father. She started to grow closer to Brendan, who became her new father figure, although she wouldn’t admit it. Jessica’s father became jealous, gradually growing angrier, often shouting at her, accusing her even of having an affair with Brendan. He also started drinking more and their relationship dramatically broke down.

  Ten days before they were to move out of the house, it was Jessica who found her father hanging from a tree in their garden, a rope tied around his neck in an obvious suicide. The shock and sadness that there would have been only a few months before was instead replaced by an empty hollow bitterness. She was angry that again her father had not faced up to his situation, but also upset that she had grown apart from him over the last few weeks and their final words had been bitter.

  Jessica tried her best to block out the pain that she was feeling. She turned to Brendan even more and would call him up at any hour of the day. Brendan was happy to help her as he had already been made aware of her use within the Group, and he saw she had a bright young mind with a lot of promise. With her father’s company finished, she was now out of work, and staying with her brother. It wasn’t the ideal set-up, her brother had turned his back on the family and their father’s business a few years before, wanting nothing to do with any of them. He lived in a small two bedroomed flat close to the pub he worked at and the football team he played for.

  Brendan offered to help her out, stating that he would soon be able to find a role for her somewhere with his connections but that she’d have to make do for a few months. She knew she had fallen on her feet with Brendan and grew very fond of him. Meeting up again over a space of a few weeks to discuss various options available, Brendan started to become aware that he was spending a lot of time with a beautiful young single female. Cautious of the damage that could be done if ever someone accused him of something, he started to limit contact to more formal settings and to see her less frequently. To Jessica, still getting over the death of her father and desperate to get out of her brother’s tiny flat, this sudden change in Brendan’s behaviour gave out a mixed message; she started thinking that she had done something wrong or had offended Brendan somehow. Not wanting to damage the lifeline and friendship she had found, nor the income she was getting by doing several favours for Brendan, she had turned up at his house one Friday night very drunk, knowing his wife was out of town, knocking loudly on the door. Brendan could see that she had been crying and could smell the drink. She offered herself to him straight away, throwing her arms up around his shoulders before struggling to take off her clothes, getting down to her underwear before falling to the floor in a heap with a bump. Brendan didn’t know what to do and stood there silently; he knew not to take advantage of her. Besides, having put a dressing gown on her and seating her on his sofa, by the time he’d come back from the kitchen with a strong coffee she was sound asleep.

  That night, though, had made Brendan aware of Jessica’s state of mind and having chatted through the options previously with Nigel Gamble, he now knew first hand that she’d do anything to get by.

  Awake and sober the next morning, they’d chatted over breakfast, Jessica a little embarrassed by her previous night’s ‘display,’ though she couldn’t remember much, her head hurting from the excess alcohol as the sun streamed in through the large windows. She was aware that they hadn’t had sex, which only increased her respect for Brendan as others would have certainly taken advantage of her in the emotional and physical state she had been in the night before.

  “I’ve come to think of a way that we’d be able to use your services further, Jessica,” Brendan had said that morning over coffee. He went on to tell her about a man his boss wanted to employ, a man who was in fact the manager of the team her brother played for. Then going into detail over the next thirty minutes, Brendan explained how it would be arranged for her to meet this man at a home game one Sunday. He expanded how Jessica should behave with the man, what she should say, stating that he knew they’d get on really well anyway.

  Jessica was glad to get her teeth into something and was curious about the opportunity being presented to her. She accepted the offer though stated she wasn’t going to prostitute herself for him. Brendan assured her that they’d get on well and that he wasn’t asking her to sleep with him. He just wanted her to make contact and later down the line to introduce him to Brendan. He explained that there was a good career move on the cards in a few months’ time working for a government organisation so all he was asking her to do was to have some fun while that job was set up for her.

  A few weeks went by before Brendan got in contact again, requesting that she made herself available for that coming Sunday to meet this contact. Putting on an eye catching red dress with knee high chocolate brown leather boots and her hair tied up, she went to the game with her brother, who hadn’t any idea about Brendan’s request. Brendan was already waiting in the shadows keeping a close eye and smiled when he saw that Jessica had made an effort. Who wouldn’t notice her wearing what she was wearing. She looked stunning and Brendan grinned as every lad’s head turned and watched her as she walked past, Tommy being no different. Her brother introduced them, as any brother would, and left them talking as he went into the changing rooms to get ready for the game, as did all the others, apart from Tommy, who was practically breathing Jessica in. They seemed to make an instant connection and Brendan, spotting that Tommy’s attention had truly been caught, slipped away quietly and unnoticed from the shadows, knowing his work had been done.

  In the weeks that followed that Sunday in April, Jessica and Tommy grew very close. She never mentioned the fact that she was being paid, employed even, to strike up this relationship. And besides, before too long her own feelings took over and she could see herself falling in love with him. Contacting Brendan about his long term plans for her, she reques
ted that she stop being paid for what she was doing as she didn’t feel right about it. Instead, she wanted to see how that job was taking shape that he’d mentioned a few months back. Brendan told her that things were ready and that they’d need to move house. It was the summer now and she’d spent three long months with Tommy, moving in together after just one whirlwind month, and Jessica didn’t know how he would react. He had lived and worked there for years and moving would mean leaving the team behind.

  Finally bringing up the subject one evening over a candle lit dinner that she had spent all afternoon preparing, Jessica was amazed and pleased at how well he took the news and how quickly he decided to just leave things behind and go with her. Jessica had left her brother’s flat to move in with Tommy, though his place was no bigger either. Realising they needed a new house, and with this opportunity presenting itself, they upped and left and were gone before the summer was over.

  She settled in quickly with her new job and loved it. Tommy was finding it hard to get a job and after a few weeks of frustration it was Jessica who called up Brendan to see what he could do. Brendan had been waiting for the call and had everything in place, as he had been instructed.

  By the end of that year, Tommy was very much part of things at Brendan’s company. Having gone straight into Brendan’s academy, he was staying away for a residential weekend. His drink was spiked, his guard was dropped and when Sophie, a twenty-six year old colleague and former model made advances on him, Tommy thought Christmas had come early. Taking her to his room, they slept together. Having been a set-up in the first place, there was a hidden camera in the room which recorded everything in all its sordid detail. The following morning, while Tommy lay in bed with a terrible headache feeling sick at himself lying next to a half naked girl, the pictures from the in-room camera had already been printed. It was Brendan himself who broke the news to Jessica at her home over lunch, again being the shoulder to cry on, as he showed her the pictures. He’d told her he was showing her out of respect for her and the friendship they shared, which was of course a lie. Though she had grown to love him, she’d always regretted the way that they had met in the first place and feared that one day it would come out. Now, once again angry that a man she had loved had done this to her, she packed up her things that afternoon, with Brendan’s help, and was gone.

  Brendan never told Tommy anything about Jessica, though he was there for him when the weekend was over and it was clear that Jessica had gone. Tommy was further encouraged in his job, with more work being thrown his way and before long he was into a rhythm of working long hours, seemingly ‘over’ Jessica, though Brendan avoided the subject with him whenever they met up, which was only occasionally. And so Tommy became another asset in the group, as had Jessica and Sophie in the past, along with many, many others. Tommy kept his head down, getting to grips with all that was put before him.

  **********

  Robert walked into the kitchen as the small silver kettle whistled away on the gas hob, steam rising high into the oak beamed ceiling. Having only woken up about fifteen minutes before, he stood there in his dressing gown. The side door on the kitchen was wide open, the fresh air blowing in. Pouring himself a cup of tea, he went and stood in the doorway while the tea brewed on the kitchen worktop.

  From the doorway Robert could see the sweeping yellow fields surrounding the house from the bottom of the small garden to as far as the eye could see. At the front of the house, either side of the mud track that formed the entrance to the house was farming land with grazing cows and sheep. The farm also had pigs and chickens, the eggs of which were usually for sale by the front gate. Robert would occasionally allow himself the treat but decided against it today.

  Robert went back into the kitchen and taking the tea bag out of his cup, picked up the tea and took a sip. He hadn’t got any milk yet so drank it black, which was just about bearable at that time of day though he’d need to pop to the shop later to get the essentials.

  Twenty minutes later, having showered and dressed himself, Robert left through the front door, closing it behind him and walked down the drive to the main road. As usual, he didn’t really see anyone and those he did see would give him a friendly little nod and carry on their business. He was not a local, but wasn’t a stranger either. This became a distinct advantage of village life and a perfect place to hide, because any new faces poking around the place would soon arouse suspicion, word soon getting around. Not much remained a secret for long in the village, such was the close knit way of life.

  “Good morning, Mr Sandle,” said Norman, the old man who owned the local and only shop around. Not a large building, it did manage to carry most of the main lines of products, its shelves stuffed with as much as they could take. Norman knew where everything was though, even if the customers didn’t, having worked there on his own for well over six decades.

  “Good morning, Norm,” Robert replied. Norman never did like his name being shortened but had let it go from the beginning and didn’t feel comfortable saying anything now, having known Robert on and off for several months since he first arrived in the village.

  “Just down for a few days, are you?” Norman said.

  “Yes, maybe a little longer this time, it depends really.”

  “Want the usual then?” Norman said, moving away from the cluttered cash desk and already starting to collect together some bread, milk and meats as he was talking. Robert went over to the papers, of which there were only a few left, picked up a broadsheet and returned to the counter as Norman put down the basket, an assortment of various essentials stacked inside. Robert knew he wouldn’t need all of them but custom must be slow in a place like that and besides, he didn’t know how long he was going to be anyway so he let him put them all through the till.

  Paying up and leaving, Robert walked slowly back towards the house. In another life, in another time, he could just have stayed there, settling down. It was so quiet after all, so peaceful, a small piece of countryside trapped in its own time-warp having been left much the same for the last one hundred and fifty years. At that moment in time the thought of settling down somewhere, with someone, brought a warmth to his stomach. Though not a large village, there were women that he could have seen himself settling down with, though he’d had very little to do with them to date.

  In the distance Robert could hear the odd piece of farm machinery working away, as life went by in much the same way as it had for years.

  Things would change, they’d have to change one day and Robert was only too aware of it.

  Getting back to the house, Robert opened the door, having a quick look back over his shoulder and into the surrounding fields, but only out of routine as no one would be there, not here, not without knowing what he knew and those that knew what he knew were very few indeed.

  Chapter 7

  Jessica awoke slowly from her sleep, her phone vibrating with the alert of an incoming call. Rubbing her eyes gently she sat up from the sofa that she’d spent the night on, squinting to look at the time as the mid-morning sun came streaming through the windows. Three empty bottles of wine lay spread out on the coffee table, a plate and bowl next to them. Now fully awake she reached for her still vibrating phone. It was an old girl friend she’d kept in touch with since youth and they’d had reasonably regular chats down the years but not for a few months.

  "Yes," said Jessica, trying to block out the severe pain that now racked her head from last night’s excesses.

  "Jess, have you seen the news? It’s Tommy…,” Amy said. Jessica tensed at those last two words, preparing herself for the worst and actually not hearing anything that Amy went on to say. "Jess?"

  "Sorry, its just when you said his name I thought something bad had happened."

  "No, I couldn’t believe it. Jack was watching TV this morning and called me in saying, ‘Isn’t that Jess’ ex on the news’!’ Have you heard from him?”

  “No, of course not. I heard about it last night as well. Just seeing h
im made me so angry! Decided to drown my sorrows, what with that and the day I’d had.”

  “I just don’t understand it.”

  “Oh, it didn’t surprise me as he’d always been mad about football.”

  “What do you mean it didn’t surprise you? He just used to work in an office for God’s sake!”

  “Yeah, I know that, it’s complicated. Listen Amy, it’s great to hear you but can we chat some other time? I kind of over did it last night and now my head is banging. Send my regards to Jack. Didn’t know you were still with him. Didn’t he sleep with that girl in his office?”

  “Yeah, but that was only because I slept with his brother. It’s all forgotten now though! Nice chatting Jess, let’s meet up again sometime.”

  “Sure, see you,” Jessica said, ending the call in the process. Spending an evening with Amy and all her problems was about the last thing she needed to do at that moment.

  Getting up and stretching, Jessica went over to the kitchen and took two tablets from the drawer, washing them down with a large glass of water. It was nearly eleven and there were things that she needed to do. She went back to the lounge and cleared up the mess a little, moving it instead onto the kitchen worktop. Going into her bedroom she pulled out a clean top from her wardrobe, together with a denim skirt, and stripping down to her underwear she sprayed on some deodorant before re-dressing into the clean clothes. She checked herself in the mirror for a couple of minutes and five minutes later was off out the door, looking gorgeous as usual.

  **********

  Simon Allen had spent the last couple of days working through the figures that Mary Ingham had passed to him. Needing some peace in order to start pulling all his research together, he had stayed at home that day, as someone in his position was entitled to do, so that he could spend it writing a report on his findings. Running out of instant coffee granules halfway through the day, for him an unacceptable failing on the shopping front, he’d collected up his papers and with his laptop had relocated to a coffee shop in town.