“Silly” she said, “It’s time for your lap dance.”
Then Sara began another routine, only inches away from Frank. His fingers twitched and she knew he was just dying to touch her and that at that moment he was madly in love with her.
She slowly took her top off. Frank tried to be suave and continue to look into her eyes, but he found he had no real control over his eyes, every movement made them betray him as he ate her with his eyes.
“You are very sweet” Sara said when she was finished, quickly slipping her top back on and sitting close to him.
“I want to see you again.” Frank said.
“I am here every night.”
“No, I’d like to call you. To take you out, I couldn’t afford to come here every night. Let me woo you.”
Sara would have laughed except she could sense his total seriousness.
“Listen,” she said kindly, “when we finish the champagne I have to move on. The management insists.”
“I have enough for two drinks and then I am cleaned out. Lets’ drink the champagne and have two vodka and just talk. You interest me so much.”
“No touching.”
“I promise.”
Sara linked Frank under his arm and came really close. He could smell her perfume and feel her softness. “Keep your hands on the table” she said as he began to respond.
Miserable at having to sit still, yet thrilled and delighted Frank continued to eat her with his eyes as they talked. For Sara it was relaxing, she found Frank engaging and unassuming. Pity he had run out of money, she thought.
When they finished, as they must soon, she would have to get another mark before the night ended. It was hard work most of the time and she did have a family and her mother to support. However with Frank it felt, well normal, she could like him.
Under her probing Frank explained his lack of love life and his life with his aging mother. He then explained about his romance with Jean and how it had all gone wrong all those years ago, and how they had bumped into each other recently.
“I have a thought for you Frank” Sara said.
“What?”
“Frank, you have to let it go. Let Jane go, stop dreaming about what might have been. She is too far passed. It is not a retrievable situation.”
“But I met her again and all the old feelings came back.”
“And I thought you were falling in love with me?” Sara chided him.
“I was. I am. I really am Sara. You are wonderful and so beautiful.”
“See” Sara said scoring her point, “you are letting her go, I am the start. You have to make your life blossom. You can’t go into old age with one spoiled romance. You will dry up and become a prune. You will be a dirty old man. Live. Life is for tomorrow. Yesterday died yesterday”
“To tomorrow” Frank cried out lifting his glass and saluting the room. Sara laughed and joined him. Tonight was one of the fun nights, which happened now and then, when she met a nice man.
“I have to go soon.” Sara said regretfully and Frank looked at her as if she had broken his heart.
“What about the Executive suite?” he asked forlornly.
“Do you have a credit card?”
“No, hate them.”
“Silly.”
“I love you, I love the look and line of you Sara.”
“You’re drunk Frank, a nice drunk, but drunk.”
“I can’t touch you?”
“No Frank.”
“In a way that is very erotic, I get nervous when I touch a woman.”
“Why Frank, we are very soft and fragile.”
“And my heart breaks.”
“Oh Frank.”
Sara looked around the room. The headwaiter was looking at her. The room was busy and she and Frank were occupying valuable space and had stopped spending. They would clear the table in any minute and then it was either the bar or the Executive suite, and in the case of Frank with no more money, it was back to the bar. And she would have to move on to the next spender she could engage with.
Five. She held up five fingers discreetly, and the waiter understood, she wanted five more minutes.
Frank” Sara said, “have you ever been really naughty?”
“Not really just selfish naughty with Jane all those years ago.”
“Can you sit absolutely still?”
“I am a man of iron, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing Frank” Sara said and under the table she opened his trouser flies and took his penis. To her surprise it was hard and erect. “You really do like me Frank, I thought it would need waking up”. Sara said smiling at him and added seriously, “I never do this outside the Executive suite Frank, and if I am caught I will be beaten and thrown out for good, so for goodness sake stay absolutely still.”
Frank managed a strained grin as he tried to stay still. In a second he came and leaned forward onto the table with a groan. His glass fell to the floor, but did not break. The waiter hovered but Sara banished him with a glance.
“Sara…” was all he could manage.
Sara was steeling herself for the difficult moment of saying goodbye to Frank. This was not normally a difficulty but she knew the moment would hurt him.
However the moment was saved by Padraig’s hurried arrival.
“Frank come on, there’s trouble. Kieran touched one of the girls and the bouncers have him. He only wanted to see if it was real.”
“Oh Jesus. What can we do? Can you help Sara? He is getting married in a week, we can’t have him covered in bruises.”
“Put your penis away” Sara whispered urgently.
“Right” Frank said and adjusted his clothing. He was wet down there but what could he do.
“Come on” Padraig insisted.
“Let me deal with it” Sara said and led them back towards the entrance. Behind them the waiters cleared the table and another client took their place.
They found Kieran in the gym area being held by two bouncers. He was drunk and aggressive. His clothes were all out and Sara knew that the bouncers had started into him.
“Just hold him,” Sara instructed, “I need to talk to Solveig.”
“Up in the office” one of the bouncers said.
“Stay here.” Sara said to Padraig and Frank. They stood regarding the bouncers balefully. Until Sara got back it would be a standoff.
Solveig looked up in surprise as Sara burst in. “Sorry, we have a problem.
A stupid client who touched one of the girls is on his stag night. He is getting married next week.”
Solveig laughed, “I’ll tell them not to hit his face or his testicles,” he said and followed Sara down the stairs.
Solveig took the situation in at a glance, it was clear that there could be a fight with what was now three patrons. He knew Ivan could handle himself with restraint but he was worried at the Irish bouncer George, who was too ready for trouble. He had already advised Ivan to make sure he held him in check. Solveig appreciated tough bouncers as they kept order but he was fearful that they might step over the boundaries and endanger his club license.
“Who touched the girl?” he demanded.
The bouncers indicated Kieran.
“Everyone out” Solveig said and ushered Frank and Padraig to the exit, taking each by the elbow. Solveig was surprisingly strong and knew how to handle inebriated clients. “And bring that other guy” he instructed over his shoulder.
Satisfied that they were all to be thrown out together, Frank and Padraig let themselves be led to the exit.
“Not the face and testicles,” Sara said sotto voce to one of the bouncers, “he is getting married, this is a stag party.”
“Right” Ivan said and both he and George delivered a few quick punches to Kieran’s gut.
Kieran began to get sick. “Oh bugger” George said, and they rushed Kieran to the exit and dumped him in the street behind Frank and Padraig, who were just turning to see where Kieran was.
“Don’t com
e back!” Solveig said and closed the door.
Padraig picked up Kieran. Frank however gathered his nerve and knocked on the door. An angry face looked out. “Do you want a box?” George shouted.
“A quick word with Sara.”
“No, she has gone back”
“Then give her this.”
Frank wrote a phone number on a piece of notepaper he found in his pocket and thrust it into the bouncer’s hand. “It’s very important” he said, “Tell her she is to ring me”
“I’ll make sure she gets it” George said as agreeably as he could, as his intention was to get rid of Frank, and then he closed the door.
Chapter ten
Clarence, the doorman stood resplendent in his blue uniform with cap, and black shoes. He had one arm and the unused right arm of his uniform was pinned like a medal to the breast of his uniform. Clarence looked half as old as time, with a strong weather beaten face and had a kindly if stern expression.
He had been doorman for the CIP insurance for as long as anyone could remember, helping them, amongst other things, to meet their legal quota to hire handicapped people.
Most people who met Clarence instinctively knew he had an army background from his crisp manner and stiff bearing. This in turn led them to conclude that he had lost his arm in some sort of military action. Clarence, for his part, did not discourage this illusion, although he had in fact lost his arm in a motorcycle accident some decades ago.
Clarence had his instructions. He was to show the new recruits into reception and when they were all gathered he was to bring them to Mr. Clifford, the head clerk, who would begin their induction into the organization.
Four had arrived so far, two girls and two boys, three dropped off by their Fathers in large cars and one of the girls on foot. Clarence anxiously scanned the street for the last car to arrive. He knew Mr. Clifford was a stickler and would not take kindly to any recruit who was late on the first day.
“Excuse me,” an uncertain voice said.
Clarence took his eyes from the street and settled them sternly on a young man in a sports jacket with collar and tie. His shoes were polished and his hair looked recently cut and combed, and he had an envelope with CIP logo clutched in his hand. Clarence knew this must be his missing recruit.
Clarence took the envelope, put it to his lips and expertly extracted the letter it contained with his one hand. He shook open the folded letter and read its’ contents, simultaneously returning the envelope from his lips to his hand behind the letter.
“Follow me young man.” He instructed.
Clarence led the young man up the steps. “My name is Clarence,” he added, not shaking hands but handing back the letter.
“I am Robert” Robbo said, taking the letter and putting it back into the envelope. He put the envelope into the inside pocket of his sports jacket. The sports jacket had been provided, as had the tie, by his teacher McGivney, or Frank, as he had insisted he be called, “Now that they were out of school.”
Robbo had been deeply appreciative of the support from Frank McGivney and also thanked Eoin McKeon for the two ‘old shirts’ Eoin’s mother had provided. The sports jacket almost fitted at the shoulders but the arms were a bit short and the whole thing made Robbo feel itchy, but he had to admit it made him look respectable.
Clarence picked up the other recruits and led the five of them into the lift and up to the first floor. There he handed them over to Mr. Clifford’s Secretary and returned to his duty on the front door.
In whispers they introduced each other as they sat in the reception area. They were a mixed bunch. Three were from Blackrock and Killiney areas and bonded instinctively, sharing, as they did, similar backgrounds. Ann came from Ballyfermot and Robbo from Drimnagh and both had more pronounced Dublin accents and less inherent self confidence, reflecting their less privileged backgrounds. They also felt a mutual affinity. However the group as a whole was on the same adventure, that is, starting a new job, and they were all friendly and inclined to be mutually supportive.
After about a half hour of whispered conversation and cooling their heels, Mr. Clifford’s Secretary got up from her desk and approached them. They looked up anxiously.
“I am Mr. Clifford’s secretary,” she explained, “Mr. Clifford can see you all now.”
With that she turned on her heel and expecting them to follow she led them through a door and into Mr. Clifford’s office. They scrambled to their feet so as to follow her.
“Welcome.” Mr. Clifford said effusively as they filed in. “Sit” he instructed, indicating to the conference table in his office and they all sat. There was tea and coffee and cups on the table and Mr. Clifford said, “I’ll be mother” and began to offer cups, enquiring “Tea? Or Coffee?” His secretary left them to it, closing the door behind her as she left and returned to her desk.
Mr. Clifford struck the young group as old fashioned, formal and strict. They were correct in their assumption and this was reinforced by the fact that he did not use his or their Christian names.
“I will take you through the formal induction procedure over the next hour or so and then deliver you to your assigned departments. Three of you start as Sales trainees. Two of you, Walsh and Gormley, will be assigned to Miss Nash our supervisor in Accounts payable.
Robbo and Ann looked at each other and eyes met but they remained silent. The other three were pleased that they were to go to sales.
“I see also” Mr. Clifford continued, “that you Mr. Gormley have done very well in the tests and may be studying for the actuarial exams. Well done.”
The others nodded in approval, recognizing that this was an achievement. However, this new information, together with his odd appearance in an ill-fitting sports jacket, served to further differentiate Robbo from the others.
“And you Miss Walsh, appear to have very good bookkeeper training. This will be very useful and Miss Nash will be pleased. A lot of young girls these days have little practical training.”
“Thank you” Ann said, half wondering if Mr. Clifford had just made a discriminatory remark under the equality legislation.
“And a lot of young boys are the same.” Mr. Clifford added, realizing that he could not single out girls as such for comment.
Mr. Clifford spent the next hour talking them through the company’s policies from Attendance, to punctuality to pensions through to Welfare and Working Time arrangements.
He then handed them a staff booklet and asked for questions. However everyone was mesmerized by the amount of information he had supplied and to his relief no one needed further clarification.
“You will all need bank accounts” he added and on enquiry elicited that of the group neither Ann nor Robbo had a bank account.
“Miss Nash will arrange that for you” Mr. Clifford explained, “We pay monthly by direct debit and you must have an account. We have an arrangement with our local bank branch for new employees.”
Ann had expected this as she had ascertained as much at the interview. However for Robbo this was scary but he said nothing.
“Mathew Duffy will speak to you later about the Actuarial training,” Mr. Clifford said, directing his remarks solely to Robbo who blushed slightly, “Mr. Duffy is a senior actuary and will act as your mentor for the actuarial part of your training. However you will start in general administration under Miss Nash.”
“Thank you” Robbo said hesitantly.
“Don’t thank me. Mr. Duffy will send for you and go to him promptly he is a very busy man.”
Mr. Clifford then led the group from his office having completed his part in the induction process. His secretary needed no explanation and went into his office to clear off the cups and prepare the room for Mr. Clifford’s next appointment.
“First to Miss Nash and then on to Sales,” he announced and led the way. The group followed, taking in every detail of their surroundings and wondering if they would ever learn to understand and find their way around the multi-storied buildi
ng.
Miss Nash turned out to be a brusque woman in her early fifties and formally thanked Mr. Clifford as he handed over Robbo and Ann to her care, shaking their hands energetically as he introduced them. Mr. Clifford handed over their induction files to Miss Nash and disappeared with the other three inductees.
“They call him the Cliff,” She said with a smile when Mr. Clifford was gone. “But don’t let him hear you. He is as stiff as a poker.”
Ann and Robbo relaxed visibly. It appeared that Miss Nash was not as frosty as their first impression.
“Robert,” she began, addressing Robbo, “you will start in the mail room. Clarence the doorman will be in charge as that is his area. Administratively Clarence is a part of my team. You will work with Clarence in the afternoons. There are two other messengers but you will be trainee grade not messenger. In the mornings you will assist Ann on the bought ledger.”
“Bought ledger?” Robbo asked, not understanding.
“Some people call it the purchases or accounts payable” Ann interjected, seeing his confusion.
“Very good Ann,” Miss Nash said, “We have an integrated ledger system, Purchase order is authorized and this is matched with delivery and invoice.”
“And who inputs data?” Ann asked.
“Local purchase officials, mainly secretarial or purchasing staff. However they are not perfect and this is where you come in Ann.”
“Yes?” Ann said expectantly.
“You will trace all unmatched data. They go into a suspense account and we need to clarify them after every payment run.”
“I understand, I assume I will have to be in contact with each of the local data input personnel to clear up queries.”
“Them and the managers concerned. This will be very good training for you both, as you will come into contact with all the important people in the building. You will help the wheels to run smoothly and also get to know the business.”
“Robert” she continued, “ I will start you off with Clarence. He comes up for coffee at eleven. He sorts the post with the messengers, and they deliver to the post centres through out the building. Again this will help you to know the business, as you will deliver everywhere. You will be put with one of the messengers for a week and then you will be on your own as the relief and back up on the routes. Clarence has only one arm. I am sure you noticed. He needs help with the parcel post and you can help there also. Occasionally you will have to show important visitors to see managers in the building. Is that all clear?”
Love on the Dark Side of the City Page 9