by Michelle Day
Chapter Four
Matt opened his eyes early the following morning and was reviewing how comfortable he was all snuggled beneath his duvet seconds before his alarm sounded. Wriggling an arm out from under the covers as he turned, he swatted the snooze button before daring to peer out at the daylight and that was when he noticed his brother occupying the bed opposite his. He hadn’t seen Paul for over four months and even though they had spoken almost every day, things just weren’t the same without his brother to help get him into trouble.
Throwing the covers back, he swung his legs out of the bed and grabbed a pair of threadbare jogging trousers before launching himself at the sleeping form. Landing across the solid mass of his brother, Matt sat across his chest and bounced on the bed, his hands on Paul’s shoulders as he shouted “Dude! You’re back.”
Scowling, Paul opened his eyes and glared at his brother. “Oh, yay!” He gruffed “Get the fuck off me Matt, you weigh a ton.”
“It’s good to see you bro.” Matt grinned, now sitting on the edge of Paul’s bed.
“Yeah, you too.” Paul answered and an awkward man hug followed, interrupted by Monica who had come into the room to chivvy Matt along. “I’d better get up too and catch up with my guys.”
“Jokers tonight, I will not take no for an answer.” Matt told him as he headed out of the room.
Paul smiled to himself as he slid out of bed; perhaps being home wouldn’t be so bad after all. He spent a busy few days catching up with his workforce and joining in the day to day work, returning home each night, tired with his body aching as it reacquainted itself with physical work.
Matt had become something of a low key party animal while Paul had been away. He was out every night with an assortment of friends who gladly welcomed Paul into the fold. During one particular party, Paul commented on the absence of Matt’s steady girlfriend Hayley.
Matt had shrugged and explained that Hayley was into her recreational drugs big time and while Matt did begin to participate with her, he felt himself being drawn down the path of addiction and that his life was beginning to spiral out of control.
When Hayley overdosed and Kay insisted that he should stay away from her, he realised that his attraction to Hayley was the most dangerous thing of all and he hadn’t seen her since she came home from hospital, he had no intention of seeing her again.
“If she wants to ruin her life that’s her look out, I’m not going to let her drag me down with her.” He commented.
Paul was impressed, had the circumstances been reversed, he wasn’t sure he would have been able to resist. By their third visit to Jokers in his first week home, they had hit the socialite headlines in the less reputable newspapers thanks to Paul never being one to keep a low profile coupled with the fact that the paparazzi loved him and he mercilessly used them to keep his name in the forefront of the public’s attention.
The publicity was oh so good for his gardening company and as it was provided free, he made sure to rape the clinging photographers and journalists for attention at every available opportunity.
Thankfully, neither of his parents would deem the low rent papers worthy of their attention so most of his misdemeanours went unnoticed by them. The men on his staff however, bought those kinds of papers religiously, swearing blind that they had the best sports section and that it had absolutely nothing to do with the semi-naked lovely in the first few pages.
As his escapades began to get catalogued with stunning regularity so the ribbing from the men got worse. He actually enjoyed the good humoured banter, telling them on more than one occasion that they were simply jealous.
Sitting around the table of the local greasy spoon, that day’s paper open in front of them and slowly being picked apart, he realised that up until now, there had only been snippets of their exploits but today there was a full blown article written by Paul’s favourite socialite journalist, Antoinette Savage.
As Paul sat beside the newest member of his crew, flicking through the paper with the occasional “Done her and her, oh and she was a bad, bad girl.” Phil, his foreman began read out the article Antoinette had written.
“Guess what ladies? Matt and Paul Jensen are back on the party scene. We haven’t seen a lot of the twins since Paul’s departure to the back of beyond but reports have it that he is once again in the vicinity and by all accounts, both boys have been making up for lost time and partying hard in the last week leaving behind a trail of broken hearts and discarded knickers.”
“Paul, you need to take me with you and get me laid.” One of his men said.
“Why would I do that? I’m too busy getting me laid.” He grinned.
“I actually thought you were bullshitting.” This from someone else.
Paul pushed his chair back, allowing room for his long legs to stretch out in front of him. He laid an arm across the back of the chair beside him, looking for all intents and purposes like he owned the place. “I shit you not my friend. The ladies love me and who am I to turn them down when they throw themselves at me.”
As if by magic, the waitress appeared, blushing sweetly and hooking a strand of hair behind her ear, she leant forward, smiling “Can I get you anything else Paul?”
“No thank you sweetheart.” He smiled back, getting a lovely view of her cleavage as he raised his eyes to her face “I’ll give you the nod if I need anything.” He resisted the urge to slap her delectable backside as she turned away and he watched the gentle sway of her hips until she disappeared behind the counter before turning back to his men.
“Gentlemen. We are in the presence of a God.” Phil sombrely informed them.
“Un-be-lievable.” Someone muttered.
“We are not worthy.” The new boy added.
Early Friday morning, having slept through the alarm and Monica’s repeated visits to their room, Matt finally surfaced and then panicked when he saw the time. Diving across the room, he shoved Paul off of his bed, unceremoniously dumping him on the floor.
Paul landed with an “Oompf” followed by “What the hell just happened?” as he scrambled back onto his bed.
“Get dressed. We’re going to be late.” Matt shoved him again to prevent him from lying down “We have to get the train today; Dad’s got an early meeting.”
Rubbing his hands over his face, Paul glanced at the time before replying “If he’s going to be in a meeting, it won’t matter if we’re late.”
“Just move will you Paul, he’ll know if we don’t get there on time and regardless of the reason, you will be the one who takes the blame.”
“Bollocks.” Paul muttered. He heaved himself to his feet and stumbled to the bathroom, shouldering Tessa out of the way.
“Hey, it’s my turn in there.” She protested.
“Tough. I’m in here now and I take a fraction of the time you do so live with it.”
“Paul” she actually stamped her foot in frustration.
“Just let him get on with it Tess or he’ll deliberately take his time just to make us later than we already are.” Matt advised.
Matters didn’t improve when they boarded the train which as usual was completely packed.
“Christ, how do you do this every day?” Paul moaned loudly.
“Shut up.” Tessa hissed.
“Why am I paying to be herded onto a train at the ass crack of dawn that smells of piss and old people where I don’t get a seat or even anything remotely attractive to rub up against?”
“It’s just the way it is.” Matt shrugged his massive shoulders almost unbalancing the commuter next to him.
“Somebody kill me now.” Paul whined.
“Matt, shut him up.” Tessa spoke, nudging Paul who in turn nudged Matt who once again knocked into the man vainly trying to read his newspaper next to him, the man tutted and glared at Matt.
“Sorry dude.” Matt apologised then turned his head to glare at his siblings “Next time, I’m getting the earlier train. You two are a nightmare.”
Slinkin
g into the office a whole two minutes late, the siblings went their separate ways, Matt to the office next to Michael’s, Tessa to one of the larger offices at the back of the building and Paul to his corner desk in Norman Satchell’s office.
“Morning Paul,” the older man greeted him without looking up.
“Hi Norm. What’s happening today?” Paul answered as he slumped into his chair.
“I have a little something on the down low that I’d like you to take a look at.”
That sparked Paul’s interest and he sat up straighter “Oh yeah? What would that be?” He asked, good old Norm he thought coming straight to the point. “Is it going to make us a little extra cash?”
Norman smiled, this kid was smart, resourceful and not afraid to bend the rules, they got on like a house on fire and they shared a mutual dislike of Michael Jensen which made them perfect cohorts. “If we play our cards right boy, this could make us obscene amounts of money in a very short time.”
“Have I mentioned lately how much I like working with you?” Paul laughed.
“Seeing as you deserted me for some woman, no, you haven’t but I’ll take that admission in the manner it was meant and help to make you a very wealthy young man.”
With their door firmly closed, they drew their chairs together and began to form a plan. Norman left for an early lunch as was his way on Friday’s. Paul had once asked him where he got to but the older man just winked at him, shrugged on his jacket and left the office, Paul never did find out what he was up to.
Michael checked the timesheets his secretary handed him as he came through the main office doors. He spotted his children’s lateness albeit only by moments almost immediately. Stepping out of the lift, the first thing that caught his eye was his youngest son lounging across the desk of one of the girls in the typing pool.
Paul’s back was to him as he flirted with the girl and he didn’t hear Michael’s approach or notice the sudden activity around him as the other girls noticed their employer walking towards them. He couldn’t fail to notice the hand connecting with the back of his head as Michael passed him and growled at him to get his brother and sister.
Mouthing “Ow!” at the girl in front of him, making her giggle, Paul slid off the desk and sauntered to his sister’s office, taking his own sweet time about it until Michael barked at him. Matt was already in Michael’s office by the time he returned with Tessa.
“All of you were late today. Why?” Michael asked the question to his three children but he was looking directly at Paul.
“The train was late.” Tessa waded in “And it was packed so we had to wait for the next one, it couldn’t be helped.”
“I suggest in future you get the earlier train.”
Three voices replied “Yes Dad.” And as one they turned to leave.
“Paul.”
“Dad?” Paul turned to face his father.
“Where is your tie?”
“Ah.” Paul touched the front of his shirt; the first three buttons open “I forgot it, sorry, won’t happen again.”
“It had better not; you aren’t immune to the dress code.” Michael said tersely.
“I know.” Paul replied irritated by the tone his father used “I said it won’t happen again.”
“In that case, you had better get some work done today as I’m certain that you have spent most of the morning wasting company time and you needn’t think that young lady won’t be reprimanded.”
“It wasn’t her fault Dad. Anyway, if you plan on punishing her then you’d better include the rest of the girls in the typing pool.”
“What?”
“Never mind. Dock my pay if you have too but don’t bring the typists into it. I sat on her desk, she didn’t ask me too.”
“Bear in mind you are here to work.”
“Yeah, yeah, perhaps you could let me get back to it? I’m not making you any money standing here chewing the fat.”
“We will talk about your attitude at home.” Michael scowled.
Shoving his hands in his pockets, Paul regarded his father “Can’t wait.” He answered as he turned to leave.
Returning to the office after his most productive lunch, Norman leant over Paul’s desk, stopping the young man from doing any further work by placing a large wodge of cash smack bang in the middle of his paperwork.
He watched as Paul’s hands stilled while he regarded the pile of cash, his frown turning into raised eyebrows as he lifted his gaze from the money to Norman. “Er, Norm, what’s this for?”
“Ok, point number one, never ask why someone is giving you money, if they want to give it to you, smile, say thanks, take the cash and walk away. Point two, you trusted me with a small investment before you disappeared for months on end, said investment has made us a healthy profit, this is your share.”
“Huh, ok. Looks like I’m in for a good weekend then.” Paul grinned as he folded the cash and shoved it into the inside pocket of his jacket.
After an uncomfortably quiet ride home in Michael’s car, Tessa riding shotgun, the two boys in the back, Paul sat at the counter in the kitchen while his siblings battled it out over the bathroom. The kitchen smelt heavenly, Monica had been baking all afternoon and there was a selection of cakes and pastries spread over the counter. Dropping his suit jacket on the back of his chair, he leant forward and grabbed a miniature apple tart, still warm from the oven and shoved a good two thirds of it in his mouth.
“Paul?” Monica addressed her son as she tidied the kitchen.
“Hmm?” He responded around a mouthful of apple tart.
“You’re a little late with your rent.” She turned to wipe the counter closest to him, her face breaking into a smile when she saw his mouth filled with her baked goods while he reached for another.
Paul caught her eye and gestured for her to wait a moment. Shoving his hand into his inside jacket pocket, he seized the cash resting there and went to pull it out, furiously shaking his hand which had become stuck, clenched as it was around the bank notes. Eventually freeing his hand, he also put the fairy cake he had in the other hand down on the counter while he separated the notes, handing a hefty bundle to his mother before swallowing the apple tart in his mouth and replacing it with fairy cake.
“This is far too much.” Monica counted the cash in her hand and made to hand back the excess.
Paul shrugged “Treat yourself.” He told her all whilst swallowing her heavenly cake and surveying the remaining goodies in front of him.
“These aren’t for you, you know, I’ve been cooking all day for the day centres open day tomorrow.”
Paul, hand hovering over a delicious looking Bakewell slice, stopped and looked up at her “Why didn’t you say something sooner? I wouldn’t have started pigging out.”
Monica laughed “I’m pulling your leg darling, the open day was last week, this batch is for us.”
“Not funny.” He gruffed but lifted the Bakewell slice to his mouth as he slid from the stool “Not funny at all.” He repeated walking out of the kitchen.
Half an hour later after a shower and subsequent preening, Paul sauntered into the kitchen, five minutes late for dinner, that evenings burgundy coloured shirt in his hand. Ignoring Michael’s disapproving scowl, he dropped into his chair next to Matt, “Mum, could you iron my shirt for me?” he asked.
“Yes, after dinner. Go and get a top from the ironing pile for now though, it’s not polite to sit at the table with a bare chest.” She answered.
Sighing dramatically, knowing it would irritate his father and mumbling “It’s not like you haven’t all seen it before.” He left the table and grabbed a t-shirt from the clean pile of laundry yet to be ironed.
“That’s my shirt.” Matt nudged him as he re-joined his family.
“So?”
“Get one of yours.”
“What’s the point? I’m only wearing it to eat.”
“You might drop food on it.” Matt whined.
“That’s why I’m wearin
g yours and not mine.” Paul flicked his brother’s forehead.
“Enough!” Michael bellowed, already in a foul mood from Paul’s insolent attitude earlier in the day, the boys’ bickering had only served to darken his mood considerably.
The brothers’ glanced at each other before turning their full attention to the meal in front of them, neither daring to meet their fathers’ gaze although that didn’t stop it from burning into them as they ate.
With the atmosphere deteriorating the way it had, the meal was mainly passed in silence with only the occasional short lived conversation between Tessa and their parents. Paul looked up several times only to have his gaze met by Michael’s scowl and felt the uncomfortable pit of fear growing in his stomach resulting in his loss of appetite. As much as he tried to force himself to eat, he simply couldn’t in the face of the inevitable confrontation that was sure to take place after dinner.
As Matt tucked into his third round of dessert, Tessa began the washing up with Paul ferrying the dirty plates from the table to the sink as Monica started to iron Paul’s shirt. The family had heaved a collective sigh of relief when Michael left the kitchen immediately after the meal was finished and Tessa began teasing her brothers’ over the fact that they would be learning to drive very soon and she had better warn the whole of London to stay off the roads as God help other road users when her brothers’ were unleashed behind the wheel of a car.
Michael entered the kitchen to find insults flying between his children and although they were good natured, they did nothing to lighten his mood. He watched as his wife ironed a shirt and his children began to splash each other and make a general mess of his otherwise pristine kitchen.
“Will you stop that.” He bellowed to ensuing silence.
“We’re just mucking about.” The words were out of Paul’s mouth before his brain had fully comprehended the expression on his fathers’ face.