Facing the Music

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Facing the Music Page 3

by Brian Smith


  She looked up again, meeting the challenge Mike had not issued. ‘It’s important though,’ she said with pride. ‘See, working out and keeping fit doesn’t just make you look terrific.’

  Mike moved closer to Mary, scrutinising her carefully. ‘Your friend Shane is such a strong man. Has he been working out on you again? Is that why you’re here?’

  Mary glared at him. ‘Shane is working hard at present. He’s doing overtime for Rubicon Development on the Riverside site and other places as well, including going down to the Peninsula some weekends.’

  ‘What’s he building? Not much call for a high-rise down there, I reckon,’ Mike said.

  ‘It’s not building but has something to do with Rubicon. I don’t know what.’

  Mike was about to reply when his attention was diverted by a heap of cigarette stubs in an ashtray on the side table by the couch. He sniffed.

  ‘Talking of keeping fit, you haven’t been smoking in here, have you?’

  Mary flushed. ‘When you didn’t come home and couldn’t be contacted, we were worried about you.’

  2

  The call came before Vern McKenzie had finished his porridge. After many years in Australia, his insistence that porridge was essential to a good breakfast, his taste for single malt and the burr in his accent were almost all that remained of his Scottish origins.

  ‘Vern, it’s Jim. Can you come over? I need to speak with you.’

  ‘Do I need to bring anything?’

  ‘No, just your good self will be fine.’

  Vern did not ask why Jim Findlay was calling him so early in the morning. He would know soon enough and Vern did not prolong conversations without good reason. ‘I’ll be with you in fifteen minutes.’

  He finished his porridge, ignored the teapot and rang Freda Bradshaw, who was always the first to arrive at the head office of Findlay Construction.

  ‘I’ll be late in. The boss wants a word with me,’ he told her, and she knew he meant Jim Findlay, not Ben.

  Getting into his car, Vern reflected that he and Jim seldom spoke for long these days – not like the old times. Then they would argue over many things, not all of them affecting the business. Their arguments were usually contested with vigour but always resolved the same day or the day after – certainly by the end of the week. Until lately. Just yesterday he had been wondering how he could arrange to speak with Jim without Ben finding out. Now, out of the blue, he had his chance. But would Jim be receptive? That was the problem which had grown with each passing month since Ben joined the firm.

  As Vern expected, the traffic flow had not yet degenerated to the peak hour dawdle it would later become so it took only fifteen minutes to reach the solid, single storey, brick house that sat comfortably ensconced within its carefully tended garden on the large block. There were only a few of these well-to-do properties left in Elwood, many having fallen under the encroaching tide of multi-storey units that were such a steady source of income for Findlay Construction.

  Vern had barely mounted the steps to the terrazzo porch when the front door opened; Judith Findlay stepped out and came to meet him. Despite the early hour, she was already impeccably groomed and dressed, as if on her way to a game of bridge with her friends or morning tea in aid of one of her charities. She presented a cheek for Vern to kiss. ‘Good to see you, Vern.’

  ‘How is he?’ Vern asked.

  ‘You know he was knocked off his bike?’

  ‘What?’

  Recovering from his initial astonishment, Vern said, ‘You mean Ben?’

  ‘You haven’t heard? Of course you haven’t.’ Judith gave an apologetic smile. ‘I thought Jim would have told you. Yes, Ben was knocked off his bike on his way home from work last night. I’ve told him he shouldn’t ride in the traffic, but he tells me not to fuss over him. Why shouldn’t I? He is my son, the only child I’ve got.’

  ‘How is he?’

  ‘He has several cracked ribs along with a fair bit of abrasion and bruising. They’ve kept him in hospital overnight, but it could have been a lot worse, I suppose.’ She did not sound convinced. ‘He was fit enough to have a talk with Jim on the phone, so I expect that’s why he’s brought you here now.’ She smiled again, a smaller one, which suggested a coyness Judith seldom showed. ‘It is good to see you. You’re becoming a stranger.’

  ‘And Jim? How is he?’

  ‘I wish he’d stayed at the Epworth for rehab, but you know Jim. He insisted on coming straight home, which is a pain for the folk who are looking after him, but they gave in to him as most people do.’ Her tone changed and she looked around as though fearful they might be overheard. ‘That’s what I wanted to talk about with you. His heart is the real worry these days. What he needs is to rest completely for some weeks. I’ve found a resort at Merimbula, just right for people of our age, but he’s being stubborn. You know what he’s like. Now that Ben’s out of action for a few days, he’s even worse. Can you persuade him? He listens to you.’

  ‘Not anymore.’

  ‘Oh, Vern, do I have to beg?’

  Vern shook his head and fingered his cheek. ‘I’ll try, but don’t expect me to succeed.’

  Judith gave his arm an appreciative squeeze and turned to lead him into the house. They walked along a thickly carpeted corridor until they reached a room at the back, where full-length windows allowed a view of the garden where thick shrubbery surrounded a kidney-shaped swimming pool. Jim Findlay, who had been sitting in a straight-backed chair with a padded seat and wooden arms, pushed on the arms and struggled slowly to his feet. He was a big man with rounded shoulders and a large head carrying a generous amount of bushy but faded fair hair. With his ambling gait, it was not unusual for people to describe him as a shaggy bear of a man, and today this image was heightened by the tan tracksuit and brown slippers he was wearing. He held out his hand to Vern and said, ‘Here he is, the man himself.’

  Vern shook the offered hand and nodded acknowledgement of the greeting.

  ‘Sit down. Sit down,’ Jim said, pointing at a more comfortable looking armchair before sinking back on to his.

  ‘I’ll leave you men to it,’ Judith said but then hesitated. ‘Tea, Vern?’

  ‘No thank you, Judith.’

  ‘Oh go on, Vern. I’ve got some,’ Jim said, indicating the china cup on the small table beside him. He lifted his head to speak to his wife. ‘You know how he likes it, dear – strong and black so the spoon’ll stand up in it.’

  When Judith had gone Jim said, ‘I’ve heard about the accident at the site, but Ben didn’t know who was hurt.’

  ‘Paddy O’Donohue has concussion and a bad shoulder, I believe. Joe Frederico has a broken leg.’

  ‘Poor Paddy,’ Jim said. ‘He’s been with us for years. Which hospital? I must get in touch with him.’

  ‘It’s the Royal Melbourne, but I think they’ll send Frederico home pretty soon.’

  ‘He’s only joined us recently. I know the name but I haven’t had a lot to do with him,’ Jim said apologetically. ‘Not good.’

  He took a deep breath as though drawing a line under the topic, looked into Vern’s eyes and gave the open smile which, together with his reputation for honesty and reliability, had won him so many contracts. The same smile sometimes led people to think of him as easy-going, but those who knew him better were well aware of his persistent refusal to take no for an answer.

  ‘Have you forgiven me yet, mate?’ he asked.

  ‘Nothing to forgive,’ Vern replied gruffly.

  ‘So it does still rankle. Your place in the company has always been important. It still is. Even more so.’

  Vern regarded Jim through the upper halves of his dark-framed glasses. ‘This has nothing to do with my place in the company.’ The colour in his ruddy face deepened. ‘I told you, you were making a big mistake that would cost all of us dearly – not just you – and I haven’t changed my opinion.’ He shrugged his shoulders. ‘But it’s your firm. You can do what you like.’

/>   ‘You have a share.’

  ‘A token percentage,’ Vern said dismissively.

  Jim leaned forward, his face now clouded. ‘We’ve often disagreed in the past, but this is different. You sound bitter, Vern. I hate that.’

  ‘Judith told me about Ben.’

  Jim nodded and pursed his lips. ‘Yeah. Actually they think he might have some internal injuries as well. He’s in the Alfred and they’re doing tests today. I haven’t told Judy. She’d just worry and there’s nothing she can do. Don’t know how long he’ll be off work. That’s why I wanted to talk. Good excuse, really.’

  Judith returned with a cup of deep black tea and a sugar bowl from which Vern took two heaped spoonfuls. Her face registered mock astonishment before she left as silently as she had arrived. He wondered whether she had overheard Jim telling him the extent of Ben’s injuries. If so, Jim would cop it after Vern had gone.

  ‘I was looking for a chance to talk with you without Ben being involved,’ Vern said.

  ‘Leave it off, Vern,’ Jim replied, his normally sunny face now darkened by irritation. ‘There’s nothing more to be said on that score. Ben just needs a bit more time. Sure, it would have been ideal if he’d been able to come up through the ranks like Mike Georgiou is doing, but we haven’t been given the luxury. Ben has to learn on the job – the top job – and you could be so much help to him if you were willing.’

  ‘Ben’s the one who isn’t willing. Won’t listen to anything I say.’ Vern shot out his words like bursts from an automatic weapon. ‘He thinks we’re all out of touch. Thinks only he knows what’s best for the firm, when in reality he’s out of his depth. You don’t see what’s going on because he makes sure everything comes to you through him.’

  ‘Vern, I’ll say this once more and then we’ll leave it. Ben is the MD of Findlay Construction and will remain so. The only way you can help the firm and yourself is by helping him.’ Jim paused and a smile softened his face. ‘I know he can be a bit prickly when he’s unsure of himself, but you can deal with that. You’ve dealt with me for years.’

  Vern wiped his nose with a white handkerchief he produced from his pocket. ‘That’s your last word?’ he asked. When Jim nodded, Vern raised the cup to his lips, drank from it and set it down so firmly that the spoon rattled in the saucer. ‘We’ve had a spate of problems at CityView lately,’ he said.

  ‘Yeah, that’s concerning Ben too. Apparently he had a big row with Georgiou just before going home yesterday. Did you know?’ Jim paused to check Vern’s response, which was to give a slight scowl and say nothing. ‘I didn’t think you would. Ben is wondering whether we made a mistake giving Mike the job – it was a big step up for him. He’s thinking of replacing him.’

  ‘Bloody rubbish,’ Vern spat at him. ‘Mike’s done a terrific job under a host of difficulties. The architect Ben insisted we use might have great ideas for the building he wants to create but doesn’t know the first thing about construction. Until very recently Mike has kept the project on schedule and under budget despite the architect and with no help from his MD. Did Ben tell you we had to hose down our bankers yesterday?’

  ‘No, he didn’t. He had other worries.’

  Ignoring the stress Jim put on his last words and despite the edict Jim had given earlier, Vern continued his complaints. ‘You know how heavily we had to borrow to finance the CityView project. For a firm of our size to get such funding when we were taking on the development risk for the first time, Ben agreed to a raft of get-out clauses that I told him made us bloody vulnerable, but of course he wouldn’t listen. Now we find a story is going around that we’re overcommitted on CityView and we’re having a lot of problems there, putting us behind schedule and blowing the budget. You can imagine how our backers liked that. All Ben could say to reassure them was to talk about how many units we’ve pre-committed and our forward sales estimates, when what concerned them most, of course, was our cash flow. Whoever started this story seems to know a fair bit about our problems at CityView but overlooked the rest of our business, so I was able to talk about the cash from all our other, smaller projects to buy us some time for CityView to come through.’

  ‘You think someone is talking out of school?’

  ‘You don’t want to hear this, but there are quite a few unhappy people in the firm since you’ve taken a back seat and Ben has come in. Maybe someone has been sounding off.’

  Jim frowned, sat back and lifted his arms to put his hands behind his head. ‘There’s another thing. Did you know it was Georgiou who was travelling behind Ben when he was hit?’

  ‘No, I didn’t. Fortunate, I s’pose.’

  ‘Perhaps. It seems he was the only one nearby when it happened.’

  Jim paused, eyeing Vern closely. When Vern chose to say nothing, Jim moistened his lips with a quick flick of his tongue and said, ‘Georgiou told Ben it was a black SUV that knocked him over and didn’t stop. Ben only saw Georgiou’s car coming up behind him – no one else.’ Again Vern remained silent but his eyes were fastened on Jim’s. ‘Ben believes Georgiou was so angry after the spat they had that he lost it when he saw Ben ahead of him and ran him down but came to his senses enough not to drive on and tried to pretend it was this black SUV.’

  ‘What do the police say?’

  ‘They’re not saying much except that Georgiou was pretty vague about what happened and they found no incriminating marks on his car.’

  ‘There you are.’

  ‘Ben was going through water when he was hit. It could have been the bow wave from the car that knocked him over, they say. Look, I know your opinion of Mike Georgiou.’

  ‘So what do you want me to do?’

  ‘Take over, of course. You’re the only one I’d trust to sort out this can of worms. Seeing I’m out of action, you have to deal with this business between Georgiou and Ben. Nip it in the bud. These personal feuds can destroy a construction team. If Ben is right, though, Georgiou will have to go – and quickly.’

  ‘You mean if Ben is right about who’s to blame for CityView’s woes, or who’s to blame for Ben’s injuries?’

  ‘I mean all of it. As well as sorting out Ben and Mike, you need to get CityView back on track. Hopefully I’ll be back to help you soon, but we can’t afford to wait.’

  ‘OK, but before I go, there’s something else I want to discuss with you.’

  It was Judith who saw Vern out. ‘Well?’

  He shrugged. ‘I think I’ve got him to take his time at home recovering and not rushing back to work. But he won’t hear of being away from Melbourne. Merimbula will have to wait. Sorry.’

  Before driving away, Vern rang Freda to tell her Jim had asked him to take over as MD and he intended to make an unannounced visit to the CityView site before coming to the office. ‘I expect you would like Janine to look after you while you’re acting MD,’ she said diffidently. When Vern assured her that he did not intend to move office or use Ben’s personal assistant but expected Freda to continue as his PA, she said blandly, ‘I’ll let the others know,’ but was unable to fully mask the contented purr in her voice.

  The peak hour had passed so the traffic did not require his careful attention, which was just as well as a torrent of thoughts was racing through his head. What was the old furphy about the Chinese symbol for crisis combining the characters for danger and opportunity? It certainly would fit the situation at Findlay’s right now. He hadn’t expected the freedom offered by Ben’s removal from the scene, but the cloud over Mike was a worry. After all Mike had good reason to be fed up with his treatment by Ben and might have sounded off unwisely somewhere. He couldn’t see him losing it to the extent of knocking Ben off his bike, though. Vern tightened his grip on the steering wheel when he narrowly missed side-swiping a delivery van parked away from the kerb. Mike would take some very careful watching and, if he was the one talking loosely, that could be useful as well.

  The first thing Mike did after arriving on site was to ring the hospital. He learned that
Joe’s leg had been put in plaster and he would return home before lunch. Paddy was to be kept under observation because of his concussion and a decision would be made later on the treatment for his shoulder. When Mike asked about Ben, he was told the hospital had no patient of that name. Puzzled, he called Jacqui Findlay.

  As soon as she heard who it was, her voice rasped back at him.

  ‘You’ve got a cheek ringing here.’

  She hung up. It was obvious any suspicion Jacqui held that Mike had run into Ben had hardened overnight into a conviction of his guilt. Perhaps Ben’s injuries had not been as serious as first thought and he would soon appear on site to fire him.

  Until that happened, he needed to get on with the job. He made a comprehensive tour of the site, spreading the news of Joe and Paddy and checking that yesterday’s events had not fed into a slow start today. He kept Ben’s accident to himself. Reassured by what he saw and heard, he returned to his office and was reflecting that he may have just completed his last tour of the site as project manager when a sharp rap on his office door was followed by it being opened to reveal the lanky frame of Alan Reardon, the union official.

  ‘Good morning,’ Reardon said without smiling.

  Mike looked up from his desk. ‘What brings you here?’

  ‘I’m on my way to Riverside and thought I’d drop in and see how those two blokes who were hurt yesterday are getting on.’

  ‘You’re spending a lot of time over there. Got problems?’

  ‘How are your men?’

  Mike grinned at the rebuff. He told Reardon what he knew and added, ‘I’ll know more when I see them after work today.’

  ‘You’re going to visit them?’ As if regretting he had shown his surprise, Reardon’s lip curled and he said, ‘Want to get their stories straight before WorkSafe interviews them and get them back to work a.s.a.p.?’ Mike scowled at him but said nothing.

  ‘I didn’t pay a lot of attention to Ted Horton’s complaints about sloppy safety. Now I’m beginning to see he has a point. Your track record’s been poor, lately.’ Reardon held up his hand when Mike began to object. ‘Nothing as bad as yesterday, but the signs were there.’

 

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