by S M Mala
‘No,’ she said and stopped eating. ‘I don’t interfere there. It’s strictly up to Piers what he does.’
‘I see.’ He put down his cutlery and wiped his mouth with a linen napkin before glancing at all three of them, who were now avoiding eye contact with him and each other. ‘You usually take an interest.’
‘Mumsy knows daddio can do it on his own,’ mumbled Toby and even Finlay picked up he didn’t sound convinced by his own comment.
‘Did you ask Finlay to come over especially to check up on me?’ asked Piers, who seemed to be getting agitated. ‘Is that how you’re going to bend the agreement?’
Waiting for his mother to answer, he watched as she half smiled, before touching his stepfather’s hand gently as Piers let out a massive sigh.
‘It needs help to improve on the profits and you know Finlay can. He’s turned around so many businesses, it’s his talent,’ she said quietly. ‘You won’t let me help.’
‘Fine!’ Piers said and stood up. ‘But I don’t want him upsetting anyone, do you hear me?’
‘Why would I?’ Finlay half laughed. ‘I just want to get to know the operation and see how it works. All this I can find out from you, can’t I?’
‘And Sly…’ mumbled Toby as his mother bit her lip hard.
‘Leave Sly alone,’ Piers said quietly and noticed he glared at his mother for a moment.
‘Who’s Sly?’ asked Finlay only to be met with three blank expressions.
Seven
Daisy was in bed and Sylvie was going through the paper work on the laptop, making sure everything added up. She heard about Toby’s half-brother coming in the following day and knew, as she wasn’t going to be there, everything had to be ship shape.
Most of the day had been spent going through the things the man needed to know and coaching Piers on what to say. He was close to tears from stress when she realised he had no idea of what actually went on.
From what she heard, Finlay wasn’t like Toby or Piers.
Sylvie had done the Google search and quickly glanced over his credentials from the ‘Chambers Caplin’ website. He was a stuck up public school boy who ran his mother’s business, educated to within an inch of his life and married some French model who now designed shoes for one of the successful companies.
Glancing down at her feet, she knew they were the type of shoes that showed your toes as she frowned for a moment. Then she looked up from the screen and stared at the picture wall, looking at snaps of her late husband, child, close family and friends. Outside she heard the noise of the communal bin being taken out and the screeching of the wheels before it was banged against the side of the wall. Her eyes darted to the scenic shot of their large old family home, with the massive garden in the back.
Life then was so different from what it was like now.
Sylvie walked up the stairs and checked on Daisy, who was fast asleep in her bed before she closed the door and went into her room.
She sat in the dark for a moment and at these times she hated the fact he’d died and left her all alone, in a mess.
Eight
‘This is ridiculous!’ Juliette said down the other end of the phone. ‘Why can’t you come back home and talk about it? Three weeks! Three weeks you left and you haven’t returned my calls. I’m sorry! How many times do you want me to say it?’
Finlay held the phone away from his ear and knew even hearing her voice was painful. He missed her so much but the betrayal was more succinct in his heart because it would never have occurred to him that she would be unfaithful. Standing on the balcony, overlooking the gardens, he closed his eyes.
‘Who was he? You could at least tell me that,’ he muttered, now ready to face the fact that someone had sullied his wife. ‘Is it someone I know?’
‘Why do you want to know? What good would it do?’
‘Because I want to punch him hard in the face!’ He tried to control his temper but knew it was a losing battle. ‘Who the fuck is it?’
There was silence for a moment and he waited for her to say something.
‘You’re just going to get upset I know what you’re like.’
‘You don’t think screwing someone behind my back is upsetting enough!’
‘Marc-Philippe,’ she said quietly and he thought he’d misheard. ‘It was him.’
For a moment his legs were going to buckle as he held onto the railing and steadied himself.
‘The black chef from the restaurant?’ he said, barely audible for him to hear his own words.
‘You were away and-.’
‘Get rid of it!’ he said sharply. ‘If you love me you’ll get rid of the baby.’
‘But it might be yours!’ she wailed out.
‘Do you think I want to stick around and watch you give birth to a black baby!
Nine
‘Don’t panic,’ Sylvie said calmly down the phone to Piers as she walked back home, after dropping Daisy off at school. ‘I’m sure it’ll be fine. Everyone has been told to be polite, to say ‘hello’ but to keep their heads down and mouths shut, even Samina. I’ve forwarded everything he needs from your email address and there’s a list on the inside of your work book of what he’s received.’
‘He’s going to know!’ said Piers and his voice was starting to get higher. ‘That bloody boy is smart.’
‘There’s nothing illegal, we’re all above board, except some of your expenses but he’s not going to shaft you over that, is he?’ She shook her head, already feeling annoyed at the interference. ‘Anyway, if he’s that wonderful he’ll advise on how to make the business more profitable. It’s not that we have a budget to spend on advertising.’
‘Did I really use so much up on lunches?’ he asked quietly. ‘I’m so sorry.’
‘I worked the books so it’s fine. Business meetings can be covered.’ Sylvie wanted to laugh because he sounded like Toby. ‘You need to show you’re in control.’
‘I’m not. You are.’
‘I’m your right hand man, person, whatever.’
‘What if he wants to talk to you and then finds out you know more than me!’
‘Then I’m exceptionally good at being supportive. Aren’t I?’
Ten
He parked his grey Porsche in one of the few spaces available before getting out his car. Finlay noticed the large swimming pool currently being overtaken by children from the local state schools. As he looked up he saw a plane going over and frowned before seeing they had the start of the Great West Road on one side, then the tail end of Chiswick High Road on the other.
The only saving grace he could see, it was a twenty minute walk to the river.
‘Let’s get this over and done with,’ he mumbled, taking out his case and double checking the car was locked.
There was a square, light grey warehouse building with the ‘Chambers Caplin’ company logo at the side. His mother explained there had been a dispute regarding signage displaying the words ‘Good Vibration’ and eventually Piers backed down, though he didn’t agree and was determined to get his own way.
That’s as much as she would say about the business.
Still he was baffled why she kept away as he walked slowly towards the fusion of metal.
‘Hello there!’ said Toby, leaping towards him, all smiles.
Finlay knew immediately this was a ruse to divert his attention from the job in hand. It’s when Toby put out his hand to be shaken he held back from smiling and firmly grasped his brother’s palm.
‘You look a bit nervous,’ he said, letting go of Toby’s clammy palm.
‘No!’ he laughed nervously. ‘I’ve come to meet and greet that’s all. Follow me!’
They walked towards the door to the side and into a warehouse, before being led around a pathway which was outlined in yellow and black tape and up some stairs to a mezzanine level. Finlay looked over and saw the place was neatly laid out with an area for packing and distribution, storage and a small kitchen area.
Imme
diately he knew Piers couldn’t be responsible for it.
Stopping by the balcony, he turned to see a door leading to several offices, all the partitions were clear glass except one small room.
‘That’s where I work. Shall I show you?’ said Toby enthusiastically as Finlay followed into a small edit suite with several pieces of kit, plus a tiny studio which was set up with a camera. ‘Isn’t it great?’
‘You know how to operate this?’ he asked and tried to hide his surprise as Toby grinned back. ‘Who taught you?’
‘I taught myself,’ he said before frowning. ‘Remember when I did the media degree? I sort of knew some of it then but I know a whole lot more now.’
‘You never got past six months into it.’
‘Well I did learn something,’ he sniffed before holding the door open. ‘Now let’s go and see Piers.’
‘Piers?’
‘I call him that when I’m at work.’
Not wanting to laugh, he walked out of the room and was met with a few quizzical glances. His first impression was that they hired a mixed ethnic work force as he could also hear some men speaking Polish from the ground floor. He presumed they were locals, probably unemployable, and living on a nearby council estate.
Walking into an office, he noticed there were two desks and Piers was sitting at the one in the corner, whereas the larger desk was empty.
‘Finlay,’ his stepfather said, standing up and looking extremely smart. ‘It feels like the headmaster has come to visit.’
‘Can I sit here?’ he asked, pointing to the large desk. ‘Is this yours?’
‘Oh goodness, no! Help yourself,’ replied Piers, who anxiously glanced at Toby. ‘Have you offered your brother a drink?’
‘I’ll sort it. Tea alright?’ he said, before rushing out of the office.
‘Look,’ said Finlay, realising they were both uneasy. ‘Why don’t you let me go through the files and if there’s anything I’m not sure about I’ll ask.’
‘Why don’t you email me the questions?’ For a moment he looked at his stepfather, wondering why he’d suggest such a thing. ‘Then at least it’ll give me time to think about it and write a concise reply. Also I might need to ask other people.’
‘Like whom?’
‘Others,’ he said, standing up. ‘I’ll leave you.’
‘Sure,’ he said, eyeing him suspiciously before taking out his laptop and flipping the lid open watching Piers walk out.
He waited for a moment and then noticed from where he was sitting, he could see everything, from the ground floor of the warehouse to the other offices on the same tier. Puzzled that Piers didn’t grace the desk, Finlay pulled at the drawers to find they were locked and there was nothing on the surface other than a telephone and wires for a laptop.
‘Interesting,’ he mumbled, before opening the numerous documents that were sent the day before and getting to grips with the dildo supplier.
Eleven
The following week Sylvie parked her car in the usual place and walked into the building, turning off the alarm and then locking the door behind her. It was just before seven o’clock and she knew no-one would join her in the morning until after eight, so that gave her time to go through some documents and start doing the monthly health and safety audit. Quickly making a note of any problems, she walked up to the mezzanine and sat at her desk, plugging in her laptop and logging into the website.
As she read through her emails something startled her.
A man was standing at the door.
She immediately stood up.
‘Did I scare you?’ he said and she was about to reach for the pen holder to throw at him. ‘I’m Finlay Chambers and who are you?’
‘Ah,’ she said, stopping in mid flow and swallowing hard. ‘I’m…’ Sylvie didn’t know what to say for a moment, knowing her explanation wouldn’t be welcome. ‘I’m the freelance HR Consultant who works here part time. I also deal with Health and Safety issues as well as working on a few other projects.’
Letting out a small sigh, she sat back down and immediately started typing an email to Piers, asking what was going on and why was the evil stepson on the premises.
‘Oh,’ she heard him say as she glanced up again.
Finlay Chambers looked a little like his mother and this instantly riled Sylvie. He was as the others had described him. Immaculately dressed, handsome, tall, reddish dark brown wavy hair and translucent green eyes set in a face with angular precision and high cheek bones. Then she noticed a small similarity to Toby which made her stop scowling.
‘Can I help you?’ Sylvie smiled, clearing her throat as she changed screens to their health and safety advisor’s website.
‘Is this your desk?’ he asked in a well-spoken voice.
His tone wasn’t as gentle as Toby or even Piers, it was clipped and harsher. It was if he didn’t actually wanted to speak to her and thought it a pain.
It was a similar tone she had been used to in the past from her mother in law.
‘You can sit here,’ she replied and quickly undid the socket. ‘I can use Piers’s.’
Then she stopped and looked at him again.
He hadn’t moved and was staring at her, his face expressionless.
For a moment she wondered if he was unstable, before he slowly walked into the office and sat at his stepfather’s desk. He opened up his case and put a paper thin laptop on the table.
‘And your name?’ he asked staring at his computer.
‘Sylvie Mather.’
‘Why aren’t your details listed with the other employees?’
‘I’m not PAYE, I’m self-employed.’
‘Legal?’ he said painfully.
‘My set up is very legal and above board. I have a contract for services with your father which is on-going. I pay my own tax and national insurance so there’s nothing wrong.’
The man glanced at her and she could see it wasn’t an appreciative one.
‘I need to speak to you later about the employees and what they do. Piers sent a list as well as a flow chart. You’re not on it.’
‘That means I’m easily dispensable,’ she laughed cheerfully, knowing that wasn’t the case and was met with a frown. ‘I thought you’d gone.’
‘Oh no Mrs Mather, I’m not going anywhere. There are lots of question I need answers to. You might not realise it but I own part of ‘Chambers Caplin’, who in turn owns this place and there are many things I’m very unsure about.’
Not wanting to carry on with the conversation and feeling her stomach sink at his sarcastic and equally patronising tone, she smiled again and nodded.
He was a fucking arsehole.
They sat in the room in silence for half an hour. He could hear her type exceptionally fast on her computer but she didn’t say a word. Finlay looked up for a moment and examined her when she wasn’t looking.
She was small, curvy slim with mid length wavy shiny black hair, her skin could only be described as a light chocolate brown. Finlay thought she was quite pretty and wondered if Piers was sleeping with her hence her name never being mentioned. The woman was dressed head to toe in black and he couldn’t make out how old she was. Probably the same age as him.
He’d clocked her wedding and engagement ring as soon as he laid eyes on her.
Then the thing that threw him was her voice.
It wasn’t what he’d expected.
She was quite well spoken and it didn’t match the packaging. He wondered if she was putting it on to impress or she’d had elocution lessons to better herself.
Either way he realised it was subterfuge, one way or another.
And she certainly wasn’t stylish as he frowned at her biker style boots.
Not scruffy but it looked like she didn’t really care what she wore that day, as long as it was black. He didn’t know how long he was staring at her but stopped when he was met by a pair of defiant, intensely dark, pretty brown eyes.
‘Toby tells me you live in the Sou
th of France with your wife,’ she said cheerfully as he bit his lip and looked away, instantly riled with her happy demeanour.
‘Don’t take this the wrong way but making polite conversation for the sake of it, especially about your personal life, isn’t something I do. For as long as I am here, can we refrain from pretending to care about each other’s business?’
Finlay thought his answer was pretty crisp as he opened yet another file attachment.
There was silence as he looked up at her and she sat there, smiling to herself while typing away.
‘Mr Chambers, to be honest, I agree with your sentiments,’ she sighed. ‘You shouldn’t really give a shit about your work colleagues, I mean employees. Causes complications in the long term, I find. And at the end of the day, they’re only people you can instantly dispense of. You can call me Sylvie, that’s as much personal information about me as you need to know.’
‘Good,’ he replied and realised there was hint of insincerity in her voice but he didn’t want to challenge her, just yet.
Going into the hard drive of the server, which he knew Piers didn’t know Finlay could access, he searched for the original copies of the documents that had been sent to him. Everything was filed in folders and very organised.
Again, it wasn’t the work of his stepfather.
One by one, he went through who the author was to find the name ‘S Mather’ cropping up constantly. He glanced over at her as she stared up into the morning sky, smiling wistfully.
She was a devious bitch.
Forty five minutes later, Sylvie got up. The silence of the room was too much for her as she turned on the radio and noticed he looked at it for a few seconds before glaring at her.
‘Can you turn that off, please?’ he politely asked.
‘I like music in the background.’
‘Well I don’t.’
She pressed the button and turned it off before walking out of the room.
‘I’d love a cup of coffee,’ he said, not deflecting his attention from his screen. ‘White no sugar.’