Revengement

by Stan Mason

  ’They’re very dark brown with an edge of green on the outside,’ he responded without hesitation. ’Can I open my eyes now?’

  ‘Yes of course. Do you know I’ve been friendly with a man for two years and he still doesn’t know the colour of my eyes. Can you believe that? You know, for a banker, you’re very observant and caring. I had a bet with my sales manager, who thinks all bankers are dull and boring, that you are different from the rest. I bet him that you would know the colour of my eyes.’

  The waiter appeared and handed them each a menu.

  ‘It’s fairly expensive here,’ commented Roach with an element of concern. ‘If you’re still looking for that loan, you’ll spend it faster than you imagine at a place like this.’

  She looked at him with a hurt expression on her face. ‘Oh, dear! You think I’m trying to butter you up to influence you about the loan. No, Mr. Roach. I may be an astute business woman but I’m not devious. I despise devious people because you never know what they’re going to do next. What would you like to eat?’

  He looked across the top of the menu wondering whether to believe her or not. After all, the fraud relating to the Certificate of Deposit was one of the most devious tricks he had ever witnessed in his life. If Jennifer hadn’t spoken to alert him of the danger, both he and the bank would have been sucked into the fraud hook, line and sinker. ’I’’’ have the whiting for starters followed by the Dover sole.’

  ’Me too,’ she confirmed as the waiter returned to take their orders.

  Charles looked across at her a little bemused. ’I’m intrigued. If this proposition isn’t about finance from the bank what is it?’

  A smile lit up her lovely face. ’I was very impressed with you at our meeting,’ she told him frankly. ’It’s not often I feel simpatico with people but with you it was there. I won’t go into details because it’ll make you big-headed but it occurred to me that you were wasting your talent with the bank. You have an excellent understanding of people and you handle problems without panic or being pressured into irrational decisions. You also have flair. The proposition I have is to offer you the appointment of Finance Director at Scintillant.’

  ’Finance Director!’ he gasped.

  ’It came to me after I left your office. I’m not a financial expert as you know. I try to cope with matters that should be handled by an expert such as you. I haven’t got time to chase around banks and financial institutions So I’m offering you the job. What do you say?’

  He stared at her in amazement. ’I don’t know what to say. You’ve taken my breath away!’

  ’Then say ’yes’. Come and join us. The salary will be higher than the one you’re receiving at present. In addition, you can enjoy share ownership under an executive share allocation scheme according to the profit we make. Then you’ll own part of a company in which you’re working for yourself. How about it?’

  He held up his hand in front of him as if to stem the flow of information. ’Hold on a minute!’ he cautioned. ’I’ve never done anything serious other than banking in my life. I don’t think I’m really qualified to be involved in the hustle and bustle of corporate finance for a single company. But thanks for the offer anyway. It’s very flattering and much appreciated.’

  ’I think it’s come at the right time for you,’ she went on, ignoring his comments. ‘After the incident in your office, I realised that your wife had passed over recently. You think that too much of a wrench to leave the bank after losing her. But if you don’t do it now you never will. This is your big chance... something you should grasp with both hands... a new adventure! Otherwise you’ll mull over her death for years, getting bogged down in the job, regretting that you never cut the cord. I’m offering you a wonderful opportunity. You wife would agree with me if she could communicate with you. You need me... I need you... we need each other.’

  ’Tell me one thing,’ he enquired. ’Did you offer the same job to David Fulton?’

  ‘Fulton!’ she guffawed. ‘What use would he be to me? He’s a fuddy-duddy! I met him at a party and invited him to a couple of functions... just to make contact with the bank. I even promised him a holiday at a villa I own in Spain. But that’s as far as it went. I thought I might be able to swing the loan but it it’s seems I’m not capable of doing that.’

  ‘So there’s nothing more to it with him than that.’

  She frowned at the remark. ‘Of course not.’

  ‘You see, I’m not over-enchanted with David Fulton. I wouldn’t like to hear that you were personally involved with him.’

  ‘What do you think I am?’ she snorted resenting the implications of his comment. ‘I would never start a relationship with a man to get money, Charles,’ calling him by his first name. ‘I’m not that sort of woman!’

  He seemed relieved at her reply and paused as the waiter set down the starters, ‘Okay,’ he told her, raising his fork to begin to eat the whiting. ‘You’ve given me something to think about, now let me turn the tables. I want to arrange a séance with your mother. The question is when, where and how much?’

  ‘How much?’

  ‘We all have to live, Rhona. Doesn’t she charge for her services?’

  ‘Of course, but there would be no charge to you. I want you to be my guest in Cyprus. In fact, I’ll come with you.’

  ‘You don’t have to do that.’

  ‘I want to. I have to go back there anyway. I left a manger in charge of the factory but I’m not sure he can cope with the rate of expansion. I’ll go with you. How about tomorrow?’

  ‘Tomorrow!’ He sat back in his chair to think about it. There were many things he need to do at the bank... especially with regard to the Plymouth branch but, once he had completed the questionnaire, Erica Wild would take up the reins. ‘I suppose tomorrow will be as good as any other time.’

  ‘Good! I never let the grass grow under my feet. What did Shakespeare say in Macbeth? ‘If it were done when ‘tis done, t’were well it were done quickly!’ Perhaps that’s the reason for my success. I’ll pick you up form your house at five o’clock in the morning. The plane leaves at eight forty-five. That’ll give us time to get to the airport, book in our luggage, and have breakfast before the flight.’

  ‘How do you know where I live?’ he asked rather puzzled. ‘No one know where bank manager’s live for reasons of security. How did you find out?’

  ‘No problem,’ she laughed easily. ‘I run a large company and a very tight ship. It’s essential for me to know everything I need to otherwise I wouldn’t stay ahead of the game. If you join us, you’ll soon gain that sharp edge which you don’t need to have at the bank. So do you want to remain blunt, Charles Roach, or will you become focussed and sharp.’

  He looked at her perceptively. ‘You knew I was going to contact you soon, didn’t you? That’s the reason you checked out the times of the flight.’

  ‘You know that I have the powers of a medium but I can’t predict what’s going to happen to me. I can’t determine my own future. So I rang my mother to ask her. She told me that a handsome young man was going to contact me. It didn’t take me long to work out who it would be.’

  Charles dropped his fork on the plate and began to laugh so loudly that the diners at other tables turned to look at him. ‘Rhona Paphos!’ he exclaimed with amusement. ‘You are the most incredible woman I have ever known. You actually asked your mother to forecast what was going to happen to you! That’s the most cunning, imaginative thing I’ve ever heard. Don’t tell me you run your business on the same lines... asking your mother to foretell the future!’

  They continued their meal with the discussion moving forwards and backwards light-heartedly. It was becoming clearer to her all the time that she liked the man intensely and would like to start a relationship with him. For Charles there was no immediate rapport. He thought that the woman was very be
autiful and he enjoyed her company and conversation but it never occurred to him that it would go any further. It was all relative anyway because he was still grieving for Jennifer. Any involvement with the woman was out of the question for a long time... if ever. At the end of the lunch, they bade each other farewell and departed in opposite directions.

  Charles returned to the bank to continue his work there. At the end of the day, he made his way back home with many thoughts flooding his mind. After joining the bank he had never sought to find employment elsewhere. The job at the bank was all he wanted... all he needed. By the same admission, no one had ever tried to head-hunt him or attempt to recruit him. It had never entered his mind he would ever be influence away from a life-long career at Sovereign Bank. It was so safe and solid! A bid from a competitor bank was the only spectre to raise its head but the bank was so large it was extremely unlikely to happen. But if he took up the offer to become the Finance Director at Scintillant, would he be able to cope with the task. Miss Paphos was clearly a hard-task master or mistress. He could hide in the mammoth organisation in which he worked at present. With Scintillant he would be extremely exposed, having to account for all the he achieved or failed to achieve. He would need to gain the edge that she mentioned and work hard to maintain his position. What would happen if Scintillant ran out of money? It would the end of his career one way and another... a situation which was too awful to consider. Far better to stick with what he knew than venture into green fields elsewhere. For a while he thought of the title of Finance Director and imagined himself installed in an office furnished to a standard that met the high-grade level. There would be a lot of sceptical comments if he decided to give up his work at the bank. However, all that was wishful thinking. He thought about the advice given to him by the clergyman who had suggested that he should consider to change his job and change his life. Nonetheless, it was a big step to take and he wasn’t positive it was the right thing to do.

  That evening, he went early to bed knowing that he would have to rise early the following morning. Rhona Paphos was always so precise in relation to time. He didn’t want to spoil his image by turning up late. But sleep was difficult to come by as a result of the events of the day. Not least was the fact that people had been killed in the bank raid at the branch in Plymouth. A large-scale murder hunt was now being conducted by the police. The words of the Chief Executive Officer who had scolded him many years earlier stirred in his mind as he recalled the worst interview in his life. If he ever decided to leave the bank, his departure would be accelerated by the savage onslaught on that occasion. Eventually, he dozed off into a minor level of sleep in which he twisted and turned continuously in torment. Then, in the early hours, Jennifer communicated with him again.

  ‘Hi,’ she began. ‘I’ve learned that my spiritual existence needs to be improved. Apparently I’m a long way short of perfection although I don’t know how it’s measured. Some of the others have managed to do it and they’ll soon move on. I understand there are many Master souls with lieutenants who are good spirits to help them. I believe they’re promoted to that level before going higher. It could be that there’s a Super Master soul controlling all the rest but I’m at too low a level to know. The important thing I understand is that all life on earth is pre-destined. You may wonder why it’s all played out if that’s the way The reason is that each individual’s given the opportunity to improve their soul by doing good deeds rather than bad ones. That’s what it’s all about. A kind of streamlining process. Although the plane for each person’s life is written up here and they have to follow it through their own personality. Some people become ruthless, others generous, they may become mean or evil, show goodwill, or become holy. That’s the difference. There is Heaven and Hell. Heaven’s up here... Hell is down there in your world where some spirits are sent back. My soul needs improvement so I shall have to go back across the bridge to be reborn again. I wonder to whom my personality will be introduced to. I also wonder if I will remember anything of my existence here, It’s always possible... .. ..’ Her voice faded away quickly causing the banker to wake up. She hadn’t called him Charlie. It was just ‘Hi!’. And her voice had faded away before she could finish her delivery. It was becoming patently clear that her aura was weakening fast. He knew for certain she wouldn’t be communicating with him for much longer. She wasn’t Jessica Roach any more and would be reborn at some future date to a woman who had fallen pregnant somewhere in the world. Death and life were far more complicated than he had ever imagined. He rubbed one hand across his tired face and yawned loudly, placing his other hand nostalgically into the space where she used to sleep. It was cold and empty. She would never again share the bed with him! He felt that his sleep had been affected by a decision whether to leave the bank or not and start a new life for himself. The idea seemed preposterous and he thought that the problem might be resolved after he had attended the séance in Cyprus. Rhona Paphos probably already knew what he would do. She would have asked her mother to tell her whether he would join her in the venture or not. Therefore the die had been cast even before he attempted to make a decision. She already knew the outcome! If he intended to refuse the offer, she would have allowed the matter to drop... but she continued to press him hard. Therefore she already knew his answer!

  Chapter Twelve

  Wendy Purdy sat uneasily in the carriage of the train with her back towards the engine as it sped towards Bolton. She stared woodenly at the young couple who were her travelling companions and at the elderly man sitting opposite her. Although she held a magazine in her hand which she had bought at a kiosk in the station, and had thumbed through the pages idly, her mind failed to digest the pictures or the print as she though about her earlier actions. Now that she had left her husband, burning her boats once and for all, the venom had evaporated from her system and she felt lonely and lost. At the time it seemed right to give him the full treatment he deserved for his infidelity. She had every reason to be angry. Her husband had lied through his teeth intending to deceive her about his sexual relationship with another woman when he went trucking at night. However he couldn’t pull the wool over her eyes. The scent of the woman’s perfume had destroyed his argument without a shadow of a doubt. She assured herself that she had every right to insist on a separation. Any other woman would do the same. But there were also mitigating circumstance he had asked her to take into account when he pleaded with her not to leave. The erratic hours of his work, the fact that many journeys had by necessity to take place at night when he would rather have been at home with her, the frustration of being away from home for long periods. They were all factors which had built up pressure inside him. As he had told her, it was like water piling up behind a dam. He had admitted that he had strayed, claiming it was impossible for him to control himself during extended periods away from home. Her mother had told her that men lacked control. They had sexual urges causing them to make love with any woman available and that was how half the ills of the world in terms of human relationships came about. And mother knew best! Well perhaps she was right and perhaps she wasn’t. All Wendy Purdy could rely on was her own experience. Indeed, their sexual relationship had always been poor right from the start. He was always clumsy, awkward, seemingly shy at make love properly. Jim Purdy may have looked to be a macho man at the stock-car rallies. Looking a real stud in his black leather jacket, but in the marital bed he was a very poor performer. For a long time she had dreaded the possibility that it was her fault... that she didn’t excite him in the way other women might do... but she came to the conclusion eventually that he was to blame. After that, they allowed their sexual life to slip away to oblivion. From what she could gather, it happened to many couple married who had been married for a long time. It appeared that the longer a marriage lasted, the less sexual activity took place. She had once left him to live with her mother for a week after a dreadful argument, the reason which had long been forgotten by both of them. He had always known
that she would return. It was the most horrendous week of her life for she kept blaming herself for the conflict. There were many reasons why she hadn’t stayed with her mother who was firstly a hypochondriac, believing she had all the ills under the sun, Secondly, the rented apartment was far too small for two women having only one bedroom. Wendy was forced to sleep on the settee every night. Thirdly, there came a stream of motherly advice as to how she ought to go back to her husband which went on incessantly. She recalled that her previous visit there was a nightmare but it ended after one week when she left. This time it was for good. In her anger and frustration she had forgotten all the bad things and the fact that she once swore she would never return to Bolton for any reason whatsoever. Life was becoming more cruel each day! There was yet another facet she had failed to consider carefully in her rage Purdy explained that he had used other women to ease his frustration. He didn’t care for them or love them but simply used them for sexual relief. There was no affinity between him and his mistresses. He didn’t yearn to see them, nor did he attempt to communicate with them or attempt to establish a steady relationship with any one of them. The logic seemed clear that he always returned to his wife because he loved her. It was something, at least, to be treasured out of all the years she had been married to him.

  She listened to the sound of the wheels on the track as the train sped along the line. They seemed to say “Clickety-clack, you gotta go back! Clickety-clack, you gotta go back!” She considered it was a sign that she had been too possessive and less than understanding towards him. After all, no one was perfect! There was also the comment about rats leaving a sinking ship. He was desperate to save his business and under extreme stress at having killed two people in separate accidents within a short space of time. It was all very well to get on one’s high horse and scream about morality when, by leaving him, the man must have thought that the bottom had fallen out of his world. There wasn’t a soul willing to help him or stand by him. She was having second thoughts about the whole thing when she heard a voice speaking in her head. It was that of Jennifer Roach.