Cherry Picking

by Tim Heath

  “Look, change your tone here, Mr Lawrence. We both know my knowledge of football is not as much as yours, but we’re both employed to do a job and I’m just doing mine so I suggest you do yours.”

  “Me do mine? That’s just great! If I had someone like Powers it would make it a damn lot easier to do my job!”

  “Listen. Need I remind you who you’re talking to? You were no one last week. No one! I put you there, I made you who you are so you’d better remember that because if you carry on like this I’ll hang you out to dry. Do you really think you are there because you’ve earned it? Is that what you think? Now suddenly you’re the big boss and you can say what you like to anyone? Well, you can’t. You answer to me and me alone. You are not to speak to anyone without first speaking to me. Is that clear?” There was a brief pause while Tommy suppressed his anger.

  “Yes, that’s clear, Mr Charles.”

  Brendan knew another change of subject was needed to lighten the mood.

  “Now back onto what you really want, if you’re still with me in this?”

  “I’m with you. I’m sorry.”

  “I know where Jessica is and I believe that I can open the door for you both to have another go at things.”

  “And how are you going to do that?”

  “Leave that to me. With all the press coverage you’ve received lately I’m sure she’ll be well aware of where you are and no doubt thinking lots about you. These thoughts of course won’t be good after all that you did to her.”

  Brendan paused giving Tommy time to reflect and continue the cycle of guilt his life now revolved around. It was also important for Brendan that Tommy got utterly dependent on him for this, so that he’d have a lot of bargaining power should Tommy have any further outbursts. Feeling totally defeated by everything that happened and desperate to have a second chance, Tommy remained silent.

  “In three weeks I’m putting on a charity dinner. It’s a big deal and everyone will be there. You’ll be there as well and I’ll get Jessica to be there too. You never know, with a bit of work between then and now by myself you might both leave together that same night. Anyway, the important thing is to know that you’ll get your chance. After that, it’ll be up to you. I can’t promise you that she’ll forgive you but all I can say is that I will do my best for you — so make sure you do your best for me. Is that clear?”

  “Yes, sir,” Tommy said, suddenly a school boy again in the head master’s office after another detention and ready to do anything so as not to end up there again.

  “Good. Then we have a deal. Back to business, your remaining new players should be with you before the weekend. There are one or two who are proving difficult but they’ll come around in the end. The important thing to remember with them all is that deep down they all love the game and that they are very talented. They just need to be helped along the way. We’ll speak again soon, Tommy.”

  He hung up after their short goodbyes and paused. What Brendan Charles hadn’t told Tommy Lawrence was that he’d leaked some information to Manchester United about the signing of Clint Powers which had made them agree to sign him up themselves that very day, the word also having been passed to Powers’ agent telling them that Forest were not interested. Powers had therefore already signed and now was officially a Manchester United player. Tommy was to find out the day after and was none the wiser, though having found out about the possible meeting with Jessica, he wouldn’t have dared to risk his boss’s wrath anyway.

  Chapter 12

  Jessica Ponter had not been able to sleep much beyond 5am and had got up and gone out for a jog. The roads and city life that surrounded her were still, at least at that time of the day. She liked the world early in the morning though normally she did enjoy staying under the covers. However, having tossed and turned uncomfortably in bed, she’d made herself get up and indeed once out was really enjoying things. She paused as she got to the canal and walked that section, taking in the sounds. Up ahead a small narrow boat sat docked against the side. She had fond memories of childhood holidays going up and down the country’s waterways in one of those. Her dad had always loved to pilot them, her mum and brother playing games inside. She’d usually sat out with her dad, watching the ducks and looking for fish. She liked the fact that at least she got some time with her dad who’d otherwise been distracted with the business. But just as the fond memories grew they were always now pushed out by the sadness she carried around by what happened up to her father’s death and the shame she felt surrounding it all. How things had changed in the last five years. Having moved away for her job she didn’t see her mum or brother that much now but had grown a bit closer to them. A tear started to push its way out and she started jogging again to try and escape, but before long she was crying and she stopped again to gather herself. How lonely she now felt. Though she loved her job and really respected Brendan Charles, what had life become for her? She didn’t have many friends here and hadn’t really kept in touch with many from back home either. Should she be around her own family again now? She’d lived with her brother for a time but their lives were too different now to get on well and live under the same roof. Could she live with her mother? She didn’t know. It was all too tough. And yet she felt so alone, so unloved. And now with the news all about Tommy Lawrence, she couldn’t escape his face, his image pressing back into her thoughts. Since hearing about him she’d been following closely all that she could. In her own heart she knew that there were still feelings but there was also so much anger and hurt at what he’d done to her. She’d kept asking herself why couldn’t she just let go? Why was it so hard, even after all this time, to hear about him again? And so she’d come to the point that she knew she still loved him, but would her anger allow her to really be free in it? She put these thoughts away and started jogging again. A milk float was quietly going about its rounds as she crossed her road.

  Getting home she poured herself a drink and jumped into the shower, emerging fifteen minutes later refreshed, clean and ready for some breakfast. It was still just before seven and the early breakfast news was on in the corner while her tea brewed in the kitchen, the smell of warm toast filling the room. With a glass of orange juice in her hand, she sat down to eat as a news report spoke of the murder of a government worker a few days previously, his body found by a passer-by in a passageway. An arrest had been made, though the suspect had later died while in custody, which a post-mortem went on to confirm had been from a heart attack, though an investigation would no doubt be under way.

  Finishing her toast she stood up and stretched, her fingers touching the ceiling as she raised her arms, such were the low ceilings in her apartment. Dressing in her company outfit, she always made an attractive figure. She walked over and got her tea, dropping the used tea bag into the plastic recycling tub next to the kettle having squeezed every last drop of caffeine from it. With the news now going into the sports section, and not wanting to hear any more about Tommy Lawrence, she changed over to a talk show and sat there, tea in hand, watching it for a while, sipping away at her drink slowly.

  When it was time to leave the house for work, she dropped all the dirty plates into the sink to be cleaned later and picked up her coat, pulling it on while grabbing the door keys and exiting the house. Having woken early she was still a little ahead of her normal timing and therefore decided to walk instead of catching the bus. She walked briskly and crossed the now much busier roads, arriving at the office to open up, being the first to arrive, though that wasn’t too uncommon.

  Dropping her coat and bag next to her desk she turned the lights on and started up her computer, before going to make herself a drink from the kitchen attached to the side of the building.

  She got back to her desk, everything still quiet, though the office wouldn’t be open to the public for another hour and she never really was too sure who was working when anyway. But she felt happy to be in, ready for another day at work. What the day would bring she didn’t know but she felt fr
esh, fit and alive.

  **********

  Robert Sandle had also risen early that morning and was back in the kitchen before seven having been out to get the early paper. Sitting in a high backed wooden dining chair, he was reading the paper while listening to the early breakfast news that played on the television in the next room, though still visible from where he was. Hearing a report about and mention of the name Terrance Goldman, Robert looked up suddenly, lowering his paper to watch what had happened.

  “Terrance Goldman,” he said aloud to himself. “Now there’s a blast from the past.” The report went into detail about the events of the last couple of days and then mentioned the death of Simon Allen. Robert sat there glued to the screen, not really believing what he was seeing, shocked by the events. ‘Simon Allen? The Simon Allen? It can’t be?’ but just as if to prove the point, Simon’s picture appeared briefly on the screen confirming what Robert was starting to fear. “That’s got to change everything,” he exclaimed. Robert stood up suddenly, rather distressed now, and started pacing around the room. ‘He’s flushing me out now, that’s what he’s doing,’ he thought to himself. ‘This isn’t good. This isn’t good at all! The lengths he’ll go to…,’ but his thinking trailed off a little, knowing that his target had already gone to extreme lengths to stay hidden and this was probably just the start of things. He thought out loud to himself. ‘I need to be so careful now, one false step and I’m history. At least I know that I’m getting close, rattling his little cage.’ The thought cheered him up momentarily though the reality soon brought him back to things. ‘I really think that I can get to him through Brendan Charles. I’m almost sure of it. I now need to start speaking to people. He’s clearly made his first move, I’d therefore better start making some friends around here fast and find some people willing to talk, though they won’t be easy to find and if they are they probably won’t be the people I really need.’

  His pacing increased and his head was starting to hurt, sweat starting to appear as little drops on his forehead. Finally, and reluctantly, he said to himself; “I’m going to have to go home and see the damage. I need to know what’s changed and try to find something that’ll give me an angle on his location.”

  Rushing to his room he pulled on a jacket and warm coat. Going to the front door he locked it on the inside, shut the curtains a little, turned around and walking to the kitchen, opened the cellar door and descended down the steps into the darkness, though the light flicked into life within a few seconds.

  **********

  It was mid-morning before Jessica Ponter had her first telephone call of the day, a water cooling company trying to offer her a month’s free trial. Within ten-seconds of putting the phone down it rang again and she reluctantly picked it up thinking that it’d probably be the same man she’d just spoken to who couldn’t take no for an answer. It wasn’t though, it was Brendan Charles. Jessica sat up and listened, her head leaning on her shoulder as she held the phone in place while she filed her nails at her desk. After a couple of minutes Brendan started to talk about that year’s charity dinner and she listened eagerly. She’d gone to the previous year’s dinner and the year before that as well, each time accompanying one of Brendan’s business associates, she being the glamour and beauty that hung onto the arm of a much older man. She didn’t mind, of course. It was only dinner and she was well rewarded for her time. She enjoyed it anyway. Both times the men she had escorted had offered her money to stay the night which she had politely declined.

  It was when Brendan first mentioned the name Tommy Lawrence that a bolt shot through her body as if someone had suddenly turned the power back on. She listened to every word and before she could put in her protest at how badly he’d treated her, how hurt she was, how much she didn’t want to see him, Brendan had gone to work building the love again, mentioning things about what had happened back at the academy weekend. Not that Brendan admitted any involvement, but he made Tommy out to be a real victim and having investigated things he’d discovered a drug had been put into Tommy’s drink. He said how the woman involved had been caught trying to do it a second time, how the woman had a sex addiction and used her body and the drugs as a weapon to get what she wanted. He said how Tommy, being the friendly man they both knew he was, had innocently walked into her trap and had not seen the warning signs. Brendan did a wonderful job of painting Tommy as the victim in it all. Jessica suddenly found herself in the place of actually feeling sorry for him. She started thinking too much about the things she’d said and how they’d finished things. It was when Brendan mentioned that Tommy was going to be at the charity dinner as well that she went silent, her heart pounding inside her. She couldn’t wait for Brendan to get the words out but when he did she was overwhelmed, delighted that she’d be Tommy’s date for the night and so eager to see him again. She told Brendan how grateful she was to him for sorting this out and again putting on this charity dinner to which he’d invited them both. She thought it amazing that her boss would do this for her, to find out these things and go the extra mile to help her in such a way she felt she might cry. It didn’t cross her mind to ask why it had come out only now, so long after the event. Neither did she ask him how long he’d known this and whether he’d actually found it out right back then at the time when things could have been quickly resolved. She didn’t want to think about any of those things because right at that moment, she could have back the one thing she wanted above all things. Now she’d let nothing stand in their way. She loved Tommy, always had, and now she could admit it again. Yes, Tommy had been foolish but she knew how he was great with people and it was his innocence that was part of the attraction. She hated the woman that had done this to him, the woman that had preyed on her man.

  How quickly her feelings came back. She put the phone down a different girl from the one who had woken up at five that morning. Her heart was smiling again like it hadn’t done for three years. She couldn’t wait to turn up at the dinner. She was going to pull out all the stops and make herself look like a million dollars. Suddenly life had got adventurous again. She went about the rest of the day happy, happier than she’d felt in a long time.

  **********

  Nigel Gamble had just got off the phone from his security agency, having called to see what leads they might have had; they confirmed there was nothing at the moment. They were still getting used to the new technology that Nigel had only just given them, but more importantly there hadn’t been anything to give them a start in the location or identification of the man they’d been asked to find. All of this hadn’t pleased Nigel one bit though he’d done his best to remain calm, only occasionally raising his voice above the whispered level that he usually used. Having thought things through a lot that day whilst walking through his private garden, he’d played out many scenarios as to how best to track this Robert character. Feeling sure that the Terrance Goldman and Simon Allen news could only make Robert sweat, he now anticipated that Robert’s next moves could only start getting a lot closer to home. He’d therefore ordered that all his key employees across the group be traced so that every phone call they had and email they received would be checked by the Genesis System for any mention of the name Robert Sandle. It would, however, also analyse and look for much more specific pieces of information as well. It wouldn’t be long, Nigel had reasoned, before Robert would have to break his silence, if indeed Robert was the one that was actually after him. The truth was that Nigel wasn’t totally sure, but didn’t want to take any chances. There had been a few alarms over the last couple of years but they’d been easy to crack and only once had action been needed to silence someone. But as the months went by it became more and more an issue for Nigel so that now everyone was a possible threat, nothing was safe any more and no one could be trusted. So the trace on specific people was set up and it was here that Nigel later heard the call between Brendan Charles and Jessica Ponter, which made him smile, knowing that things were moving forward with Brendan and he was really doing
as instructed.

  **********

  Nigel Gamble had by now got hold of the only photo that they had of Robert Sandle, that first specific encounter with Jessica Ponter at the Department of Information some two weeks ago. He’d passed it on to his security guys who’d done a lot of work on the tired looking picture, cleaning it up and playing around with it so as to work out what he’d look like from every possible angle, their own technology being used to great effect.

  Now with a decent image in his possession, Nigel had really shown the extent to which his influence stretched, using all available means to get the message out that this man was to be caught. Wanted posters with Robert’s face on it had now started appearing all over the city. Several mainstream and dozens of free newspapers over the next few days started carrying Robert’s picture in the expectation that there would be people who’d have seen him. Even on television his face started appearing in specially commissioned adverts. One investment area Nigel Gamble had stayed clear of had been television as he hadn’t really seen much profit in it. Yet he could still use his influence to get his message across even if he didn’t have his own studio in which to work.

  And of course, through the conventional methods of the police and security services, Robert’s image was passed around every station and desk with a warning that he was dangerous but with little detail as to why.

  Nigel knew the net had now been laid. He’d figured that with such an obvious man-hunt for him it would only ground Robert where he was and make him rely on using remote access — such as telephones, mobiles and the internet. And this was precisely what Nigel wanted Robert to use, as then the Genesis System could track his exact location and once it did, Robert would be history.