Drink With The Devil

by David Woods

  The Court was suddenly brought to order, and Garry stayed throughout the proceedings, horrified at the defence council’s speech advocating mitigating circumstances. He felt like leaping over the balcony and throttling the man. As his sister’s friendship with Grainger was described, he nervously looked around at the reporters all scribbling frantically in their notebooks, and groaned. There was nothing he could do to stop them, and it was so frustrating not being able to do anything about it, but the worst part was to come. The judge announced the sentence, and Garry gasped, choked and ran from the gallery, scattering the reporters. He was livid. Only twelve months! Nearly half of which the man had already served!

  A taxi took Garry back to his office, where he sat and brooded until Carol, his secretary, announced, “Inspector Green from the police to see you.”

  “Send him in.”

  The inspector strode in and stood in front of Garry’s desk.

  Garry stood up. “Well inspector, have you found your murderer and arsonist yet?”

  “No, Sir, we haven’t, but our enquiries are continuing.”

  “What for? You have the right man locked up in prison.”

  “Grainger did not kill your parents, and I didn’t come here to discuss him.”

  “What are you here for then?”

  “To ask you how well you know the Briggs Brothers.”

  Garry went very red. “I told you before I’ve never seen Harry Briggs. What are you trying to prove, inspector?”

  “Just routine enquiries.”

  “You’re trying to pin it on me because you can’t find anyone else. Is that it?”

  “That’s all I had to ask. Goodbye, Sir.”

  Garry left his office late and had a solitary meal in a pub. He drank too much and went to bed in a drunken stupor, where he dreamed about a hairy beast of a man chasing him into a house and then setting fire to it. He saw flames leaping up all around him, and the hairy man watching from a safe distance. He awoke in a sweat and shouted out loud. “That bastard, Grainger. I’ll kill him.” After a while he slept again, this time dreaming about Angela being attacked by that hairy monster. Again, he woke up in a sweat, but this time he got up and had another drink and collapsed on the sofa, and slept unconscious until dawn.

  He arrived at work on time the next day but looking dreadful. Carol took one look at his face and bloodshot eyes and groaned, knowing he would be hell to work for all day. Even Simon Berry approached with caution. The morning papers carried the story, telling how a fairy tale romance between a beautiful rich girl and a wild man living in a wood went sour. They defended his action of trying to save the girl and expressed sympathy at his bad luck having killed the man in a moment of anger. One of the more sensational papers Garry read went on to speculate as to the lurid details of the romance, making him turn pink with anger. He rang his solicitor. “Mr. Vine, I want you to sue that cheap rag for libel.”

  “As you wish, Mr. Osborne. But it may not be wise.”

  “Why not?” He nearly exploded with rage.

  “Because you’ll have to prove your sister didn’t associate with the defendant.”

  “She couldn’t have.”

  “I’m sure that is so, but can you prove it?”

  Garry slammed the telephone down and fumed for a while, but then tried to put the previous day out of his mind; telling himself he had got months to think of a plan, and in the meantime at least Grainger was where he belonged, in jail.

  That evening Garry visited Jane, surprised that she still wanted to see him. They talked for some time about the problem her father’s death had caused at work. Obviously she was coping very well, but Garry could see she was tired.

  * * *

  The funeral took place the following Monday, Garry doing his best to comfort his girlfriend, who wept uncontrollably as her father’s body disappeared behind the crematorium curtain. Garry visited her every night for the next week and felt very close to her, having shared her grief, and felt their love for each other was now much stronger.

  Marian noticed the way the couple looked at each other, and one night as they sat together drinking coffee said, “If you want to get together you must go ahead. I’ve got to learn to live on my own,”

  Jane protested. “But I couldn’t leave you so soon.”

  “Nonsense. You’ve got your own life to lead.”

  “Are you sure you’ll be able to cope?”

  “Yes. Of course.”

  Jane moved into Garry’s flat that weekend and they made love for the first time since that tragic Sunday afternoon. She felt overwhelmed with love for him. She wanted to return all the love and understanding he had shown, she wanted to be part of him and clung desperately, hoping their bodies would be fused together in love for ever. Garry was equally desperate to make love after so long, and was delighted at her passionate response. He had never made love with a girl in such a sexual frenzy. Her arms and legs enveloped him, firing him with a tremendous passion, and just before he reached his height of ecstasy he blurted out, “Please marry me.”

  The answer was instant. “Yes.”

  Their spasms of ecstasy died down, and as they lay in each other’s arms Jane whispered. “Do you really want to marry me?”

  “Yes. Very much.”

  After a light meal Garry sat in his armchair reflecting on his impulsive decision. Then he thought about Blakesbuild, a large construction company worth several million pounds and this alone made it worthwhile for him to go ahead with the marriage. He smiled to himself when he realised how much he would be worth in the future.

  Jane sat opposite him. “When are we getting married?”

  “As soon as possible.”

  “Really? Do you mean that?”

  “Yes. Why not? Once a decision is made, one should always act without delay.”

  “Yes. But we ought to talk to Mother.”

  “Okay. Then we’ll be officially engaged.”

  That evening the couple drove to Hampstead. Marian was delighted to hear the news. “Congratulations. You’ll let me make all the arrangements, won’t you?”

  “That would be wonderful.”

  Jane returned to work the next day to find the vital decisions her father used to make were being put off and, despite meetings with her key staff, none of them were sure what to do. Trying to imagine what her father would have done, she nervously went ahead with some minor contract tenders. She was getting desperately worried about the major contracts lying on her father’s desk, awaiting approval before being sent off and committing the company to large building projects. She studied the small print and noticed the penalty clauses, fixed priced items and other details that made her nervous. In sheer desperation she took one of them home to the flat and, after they had eaten and Garry was studying his own paperwork, she said casually, “Be a dear and have a look at this contract for me.”

  “Good God, woman. I’ve got enough of my own work to do.”

  “Please have a look.”

  “Oh, all right, if I must.” He picked up the folder and began reading the documents, getting excited over the details. After an hour he put the folder down and spoke slowly. “You’ve got to make a decision in two days time or lose the contract.”

  “Yes I know. That’s why I need your advice.”

  “But I can’t just give advice without knowing any of the background.”

  Jane groaned. “I suppose not.”

  “I’ll offer you a business proposition though.”

  “Go on, then.”

  “I’m prepared to spend one day a week at your office in exchange for a small shareholding in the company.”

  “Agreed. To be transferred after we get married, but are you sure you can spare the time?”

  “I’ll make time. You must arrange a meeting with your estimators and any other parties involved with the contract at 10 a.m. tomorrow.”

  “That’s no problem. They’ll be in the office.”

  “Good.” Garry was feeling ple
ased with himself. They had only been engaged a week and he had already made his first move.

  He studied the contract the next morning and wrote down all the questions he could think of. At 10 a.m. precisely he swept into the company’s foyer, walking straight past the receptionist and upstairs to the office, easily finding the boardroom. Jane greeted him with a brief kiss and then introduced her team of estimators, surveyors and financial staff. All of them were men in their fifties. He was welcomed warmly and they sat down with Garry at the head of the table and Jane on his right-hand side. He glanced down the table and noticed they each had notepads and a copy of the contract for the building of a new school in South London. He got down to business immediately and went through the contract, line by line, stopping to ask the person concerned searching questions.

  By lunchtime they were only half way through, so he turned to Jane and whispered,

  “We can’t stop now. How about getting someone to go out for sandwiches?”

  “Good idea.”

  They worked on until seven in the evening, when Garry had grasped a clear picture of the contract and said. “Right, I’ve studied every point in detail. The question is, do we complete the tender form with a slightly increased price, or increase it more and risk losing the deal?”

  They all looked stony-faced for a moment and Garry went on, “I think we should sign as it is. Right. We’re all agreed.”

  “I’ll sign on behalf of the Company.” Jane added.

  They all shook hands and thanked Garry for his help. Jane felt proud to be engaged to him. She was amazed at the way he handled the meeting, impressing her and her colleagues with his clear thinking and leadership. When the men had gone she cuddled him. “You were fantastic. I’m going to marry the finest man in the world.”

  “You exaggerate, my dear.”

  “No, I mean it. You’re the best.”

  He kissed her forehead and whispered. “Let’s go home. I’m shattered.”

  They stopped for a meal on the way home, which Jane insisted on paying for.

  The following day Garry went to his own office and was pleased to find his advertising campaign had started to pay off with new customers applying to the company, asking for help with their portfolios.

  Simon Berry was moved to a new office next to Garry, and was briefed to handle things in his absence. He was delighted, but the older staff were upset and Simon spoke to Garry about it. “The old boys don’t like it.”

  Garry grinned. “Too bad. They’ll have to get used to the idea.”

  In the following weeks Garry settled into his new routine, spending each Monday, which sometimes stretched into Tuesday, at Blakesbuild, mostly because he enjoyed the work more than stockbroking. The staff saw him as a saviour, and he was even more popular when they landed the school contract. All the contracts were thrashed out in the same way as the first, with Garry acting as company chairman.

  Jane relied on his judgement more and more and did not mind when he snapped at her, but just attributed it to pressure of work. He felt happy in his new role, finding it a pleasant change to be wanted. Jane still treated him like a god, making sure he had everything he wanted, both at home and at work. All thoughts of avenging his parents’ death seemed to have evaporated.

  The only remaining dark cloud in his life was Angela still being in a coma. He and Jane visited her every Sunday. The doctors said she needed something to bring her back to life, so her favourite music was played, and her friends visited and talked to her. Every kind of inducement and stimulus was tried, but to no avail.

  A serious faced doctor said, “We’re running out of ideas, I’m afraid.”

  “How long can she go on like this?” Garry said quietly.

  “Impossible to tell, but you must be prepared for the worst.”

  “Oh my God. What’ll happen?”

  “She could just slip away.”

  Garry was stunned, and sat with his head lowered and supported by his hands.

  Chapter Eight

  The two-month engagement was over in a flash. Jane had inherited the entire company of Blakesbuild, formerly owned by Roland Blake, who had raised the money to start the company and kept all the shares himself until his death.

  The wedding was a grand affair with the men in morning suits and toppers, and the ladies in outfits of the latest fashion crowned with hats of all shapes and sizes. The church was filled with flowers. The bride wore a white dress with a long train, held by four bridesmaids. Garry invited the few members of his family he could remember, supplemented by his university friends. His side of the church was sparsely occupied compared with Jane’s, who seemed to have an endless amount of relations and lots of friends. Garry insisted the front pew on his side of the church be left empty in honour of his parents and Angela.

  The reception was held in a marquee erected on the lawn behind the family house in Hampstead. Garry spent most of the time drinking with his friends, becoming more and more unsteady on his feet, which rather alarmed Jane who broke away from her friends at the sight of him staggering towards the bar. “Come on. You’ve had enough.”

  “Who the hell d’you think you are, telling me I’ve had enough?”

  Jane was shocked at his response. “I’m your wife, dear. Now, please be nice and stop drinking.”

  Garry looked wildly around to see that many eyes were fixed on him. “Sorry, dear.” He gave her a drink-laden kiss, smudging her make-up, and she wanted to cringe away from the brandy fumes, but thought it would be better to support him. She led him to a chair and someone arrived with black coffee. Garry sneered. “Do I have to drink that?”

  “Yes dear, and then I’ve a surprise for you.”

  He drank the offending liquid quickly, trying to clear his mind as she handed him a large buff envelope, which he tore open with gusto. A note was pinned to a large share certificate — To my dearest Garry, a 50% share holding in Blakesbuild. He nearly wept with joy. He stood up and hugged his wife.

  Marian called the couple to one side. “I’ve come to a decision. The house is far too big for me, so I’m moving to my cottage in Wiltshire. You’ll need a large house, so when you return from honeymoon I want you to move in here permanently.”

  Jane was not surprised at this announcement. “But are you sure?”

  “Yes of course. Besides, I’ve friends in Wiltshire as you know.”

  Garry was delighted. “This is very kind of you, Mother. We do appreciate it.” He could not believe things were going so well and his euphoria was hard to contain — in three months he had met a beautiful blond, married her and was in control of a large construction business. His own company was doing well, he had the farm as well and now a very valuable property was being handed to him on a plate. He felt like celebrating with a large brandy, but one look at Jane talking seriously with her mother stopped him.

  The couple arrived at a luxury hotel in Cannes for their honeymoon, having agreed to stay away for just one week because of business commitments. Their time was spent sailing along the coast, water skiing and sun bathing. They looked the perfect couple as they walked along the long promenade after dinner — a beautiful blond in a white dress accompanied by a tall dark-haired man. Jane took a deep breath of warm evening air and whispered, “Could we do this more often? After all, we can afford it.”

  “It’s very nice here, but our businesses have to be run.”

  “Yes, but we’re so happy away from work.”

  “I doubt it would last. We’d get bored.”

  “I wouldn’t. Especially if you were as nice to me as you have been.”

  The week passed very quickly and they flew home, immediately moving into the large house on Hampstead Heath.

  Garry spent three days a week at Blakesbuild and two at Osbornes, mainly because Simon Berry was doing such a good job running the business. Some of the older partners had left and younger people replaced them, Garry choosing them carefully and making sure they agreed with his point of view. The constr
uction business was booming and Garry, having taken over Roland Blake’s office, was enjoying running the company. Jane still worked with him, making sure he had everything he needed, but he gradually became more aggressive with the staff and she saw the mean streak in him for the first time at work. She brought him coffee one morning and sat opposite him in an easy chair, sipping nervously.

  “Garry.”

  “Yes.”

  “Why d’you get so angry with the staff?”

  “I don’t get angry. I’m trying to run the company properly.”

  “But there’s no need to be so aggressive.”

  He gave her a steely look. “Look, if you don’t like the way I run things, then do it yourself.”

  “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  “You haven’t. I’ve got a lot to do.”

  “Why can’t we talk like we used to?”

  “Because there’s no time.”

  Jane got up and walked out with tears in her eyes. Later that afternoon she brought him tea, and as she put it in front of him whispered, “I’m sorry if I upset you this morning.”

  “I told you I wasn’t upset.”

  “Can we try to talk this evening?”

  “If you like. What about?”

  “Anything.” She fled the room again.

  That evening after dinner Garry was sitting in his favourite chair, nursing a large brandy. Jane looked at him and thought he might be in a good mood.

  “Garry, are you happy with everything?”

  “Yes. Why d’you ask?”

  “Well, you seem in a bad mood at work these days.”

  “Oh, do I?”

  “Yes, you do. And there’s no need to be aggressive with the staff.”

  “I’m only trying to get some work done.”

  “But you’re creating a bad atmosphere.”