Jigsaw Lovers

by William Shenton

  Having had a few drinks James suggested they walk over to the paddock to view the horses before the third race. As they watched the horses being lead around by their grooms, and the jockeys having a final word with their trainers and owners in the centre of the ring, James caught sight of Peter Knight.

  ‘You see the man almost opposite us, slightly to the left, talking to the woman in the red coat,’ he said to Diana.

  ‘I recognise him from the photographs you showed me.’

  ‘That’s our reason for being here today. Mr Knight and his fiancée.’

  The jockeys began to mount and she watched as Knight consulted his race card, said something to the woman in the red coat and walked off in the direction of the Tote.

  ‘What do you fancy, James?’ she asked playfully.

  ‘Well …’ he laughed as he quickly looked her up and down.

  ‘I mean with four legs.’ she smiled.

  ‘The second favourite, number twelve.’

  ‘Me too. Come let’s go and have a bet.’ She took him by the arm and lead him in the direction of the Tote. She chose the queue for the window that was next to the one in which Knight was. After he placed his bet he had to walk back past her. As he did so, she glanced up from her race card and looked him straight in the eye, with a hint of a smile and then turned to James. In that brief second there was no doubt that Knight had noticed her, which was exactly what she had intended.

  They placed their bets and returned to the marquee for lunch.

  Diana saw him walking in her direction, talking to another man. She half turned her back on him and when she judged that he must be almost behind her took a step backwards. He bumped into her and she dropped her glass of champagne.

  ‘I’m terribly sorry,’ he said. ‘How clumsy of me.’

  ‘No, my fault, I wasn’t looking.’

  The first thing he noticed was how blue and sparkling her eyes were, and the way the breeze from outside gently sent ripples through her blonde curls. Then he realised it was the woman from the Tote queue who had given him such a momentary but piercing look earlier.

  ‘Please let me fetch you another drink.’ He gestured to a waiter. ‘Two glasses of champagne. I’ll catch up with you later,’ he dismissed his companion.

  ‘May I introduce myself. Peter Knight.’ She was very beautiful.

  ‘Diana.’ She said looking him up and down. He was quite handsome in a rugged sort of way, dark curly hair, very self-assured, which evidenced itself in his appreciative stare, bordering on the lecherous, which he was laying upon her.

  ‘Did you win?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes. My horse came in first. Didn’t make very much though. He was joint favourite by the time they started. And you?’

  ‘No, mine came last. So much for hot tips.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’ she said. ‘Maybe your luck will change.’ The drinks arrived. ‘Thank you for the drink.’ She began to turn, as if about to leave.

  ‘Are you with Amalgamated Magazines?’ he asked quickly, trying to keep her attention, his eyes lingering on her lace top.

  ‘No, I’m a guest of one of their public relations clients.’ Taking a sip and looking over the top of her glass she asked, ‘And you, Peter, are you a newspaper man?’ There was something in the way she said his name and the way in which she looked at him, that gave him cause to think that maybe he should have one last fling before he married.

  ‘No, I do market research for them.’ He saw his fiancée enter the marquee and catch his eye. He waved to her in acknowledgement. ‘I’m sorry, I have to leave.’

  Diana looked across at the woman. ‘Your wife?’ She asked with her head tilted slightly on one side and a knowing cheeky little half-smile on her face.

  Knight was taken aback. ‘No. I’m not married,’ he mumbled truthfully. ‘She’s one of our clients,’ he lied.

  ‘Oh, that’s all right then. I’m not sure that I would approve of being bumped,’ she stressed the word with pursed lips, ‘into by a married man.’

  He didn’t know what to think. She was definitely interested in him. The look she gave him at the Tote and the subtle innuendoes of this conversation. She was far too beautiful, and he was far too fascinated to just let her go without even the slightest effort on his part to see her again.

  ‘Will you have dinner with me?’ he asked on an impulse. He could see that his fiancée was coming over.

  ‘I’m busy tonight.’ She noticed his growing anxiety as his wife-to-be approached. ‘But maybe next week would be nice. Why don’t you give me your number and I might call you?’

  He pulled out a business card from a leather holder and handed it to her. ‘And your number, Diana. What did you say your other name was?’

  ‘I didn’t. And I don’t give my number to strange men. Maybe if I get to know you better, you’ll get to know my number.’

  With that she turned, and walked off to rejoin the group of people she had been with before he bumped into her.

  His fiancée arrived and took him by the arm. ‘Who was that pretty woman you were talking to, that you gave your card to?’ She asked in a seemingly innocent fashion, although he detected an edge to her voice.

  So she had noticed. ‘Oh, no one in particular. A guest of one of the clients, who might want some research done.’ He hoped he sounded sufficiently casual and off-hand.

  Diana looked back at him as she left the tent, made eye contact, and left him in no doubt that she had noticed the woman on his arm. She shook her head once, and laughing, left.

  On the way home from the races Diana had told James about her encounter with Knight and that in her opinion he was hers for the taking. How did he want her to proceed? she had asked.

  The company permanently maintained a small suite in an hotel in Knightsbridge, where it would accommodate out-of-town business associates and visitors. Their technicians had placed voice-activated microphones connected to remote recorders in all the rooms, and in the bedroom whatever went on was viewed by two hidden cameras. Useful insights had been gained by knowing what a potential client was thinking about the company, any problems they may have, and about rival bids and competition. It gave Ackermanns an edge in subsequent negotiations. Occasionally one or two indiscretions in the bedroom were captured which were filed away for later use.

  ‘Phone him during the week. Tell him you’re staying at the Ennismore Hotel and would he like to take you out to dinner,’ James suggested, then added. ‘I’m sure you can make it sound a bit more appealing than that.’ They both laughed.

  ‘I think I might just be able to manage that.’

  ‘We’ll book a room for you and you can take it from there. Make up your own cover story and have some fun.’

  He dropped her at home and as the lift took her up to the fourth floor, she considered that her first day’s work for James had been rather pleasant.

  As James drove back to his house he reflected on the day’s events and in particular Diana. It had been a long time since he had cared especially about anyone and he was surprised at what was going through his mind now.

  He found that he was deeply attracted to Diana and was very tempted to break his self-imposed code of behaviour. It would be most unprofessional and Ackermann would probably never forgive him. If he were to become involved with her it would mean the end of her as a company asset, and his own prospects would dwindle.

  From what he had seen at the races, she was a natural, by far the best they had ever recruited. She had the potential to be far too valuable to be wasted in such a way. Better he find his amusements elsewhere.

  Hamilton first had his doubts as to Annabel’s abilities when he queried a memory allocation in one of the PC’s he was working on. Her response was not what he’d expected. It was almost as if she had no idea what he was talking about. He mentioned this in passing to his colleagues, who whilst not openly agreeing did admit that there were areas where her knowledge was a little thin. As time went on he realised that this was invariably
the case. Somehow she had manoeuvred herself into a position for which she was eminently unqualified.

  At their regular weekly progress meetings he witnessed more evidence of general ineptitude in his supposed superiors. These were presided over by Roger, the department head, a vague academic-type man, who had some decidedly odd habits, which he was not averse to discussing with his staff, such as his predilection for rubbing a mixture of garlic and live yogurt onto his head in an attempt to arrest the premature baldness which was creeping over his scalp. It didn’t seem to have much effect judging by how little hair remained. He seemed happy to delegate the day-to-day running of the department to Annabel, and for some reason had confidence in her abilities. It was in fact an example of how the mediocre maintain a position of authority by mutual support for each others’ actions, whilst contriving to have others below them do their real work, for which they then take the credit from their own superiors.

  At first Hamilton resented this but when he sat back and considered his situation he realised he could be a lot worse off, and might as well exploit their weaknesses to his advantage.

  An opportunity to do just that presented itself after he had been with the company for nearly three months and his probationary period was just about to end. Up until that point he could leave or be fired with just twenty-four hours’ notice on either side. After then it was a case of the statutory working month.

  Recently, he had been approached discreetly, over a few drinks, by another company who had offered him a position with them. On the last day of his third month he walked into the office feeling in an exceptionally good mood. It was the feeling of satisfaction he had when he had wagered a large sum on a horse and seen it win comfortably by twenty lengths, or at that moment when he knew the woman he had been lavishing his attentions on was finally going to succumb to his desires.

  He was sitting in his office doing nothing in particular except smoking his sixth cigarette of the morning, and contemplating the good position he was in, when Annabel knocked on the open door frame.

  ‘Can I have a word?’ she asked with a supercilious smile on her face, which she found difficult to maintain, as she saw his relaxed attitude.

  ‘Sure. Come in. I’m not too busy at the moment.’ He grinned and took his feet off the desk and swivelled round in his chair to face her.

  Today her usual muddy-brown attire was supplemented by a dull green scarf.

  ‘Its the last day of your three month probationary period’, she announced. ‘You remember about that part of your contract?’

  ‘Yes I do. Quite clearly.’ He grinned.

  ‘Generally we’re happy with your work and we think you fit in here, so, I’m pleased to say that we’ve decided to keep you.’ She was trying very hard to make it sound like a joke.

  ‘Is that so?’ he asked still grinning and lighting another cigarette.

  She wasn’t quite sure how to react. Normally people had been overjoyed when she had made her little joke about deciding to keep them, but Ian didn’t seem to care at all.

  ‘If you go up to personnel they’ve got some forms for you to sign, and that’s that.’ She forced a smile again. ‘We’re all very pleased that you’ll be joining the department permanently.’ She rose to leave.

  ‘I haven’t decided whether I’m staying.’ he puffed a cloud of smoke in her general direction.

  ‘What do you mean?’ She was standing still by the door. ‘Whys that? What’s the matter?’

  ‘Actually, I was on my way to see you to tell you that I’ve had another offer of employment.’

  ‘Another offer? Who from?’ The false smile had completely vanished from her face.

  ‘I’m not prepared to tell you that, but suffice to say it is a very tempting offer, with substantially more remuneration than I get at present.’ He watched her wince.

  ‘How much more?’ she almost shouted, finding it very difficult to control herself.

  ‘More money and,’ he played his trump card, ‘a car.’

  ‘Only managers are allowed cars.’

  ‘In that case I suppose this is my last day then.’ Now this was a gamble.

  ‘You must consider that money isn’t everything. This is a secure working environment. We’re part of a big multi-national.’ She was clutching at straws. ‘I thought you seemed very happy here. That you enjoyed the work, and the atmosphere of the department.’

  ‘I’m aware of that but I take the view that if you have to work you might as well work for the most amount of money.’

  He resisted the temptation to tell her that he thought the department bore a close resemblance to a mausoleum, and that most of the people in it were bordering on fossilisation.

  She was clearly very flustered. This was not the outcome she had expected when she walked in five minutes previously.

  ‘I think I should discuss this with Roger. Maybe we can come up with something. Will you wait?’ she asked.

  ‘Sure. I’ve got plenty of time. So long as its sorted out today.’ He smiled as she scuttled off. He could see his horse heading for the winning post with the rest of the field way off behind in the distance.

  They obviously needed him more than he needed them, for they came back to him with more money and a car, which they were able to justify by inserting the word senior in his job title. Ian felt very satisfied by the whole episode, especially since the offer he’d received from the other firm was actually for less than he’d been getting originally.

  Diana telephoned Knight three days after their encounter at the races. He was a little surprised and considerably flattered that she had actually called him, and delighted that she was happy to take him up on his offer of dinner. He arranged to pick her up at her hotel that evening.

  Later they had dined very well at a little French restaurant just off Sloane Square. The conversation had been very general; the usual questions that two people who don’t know each other ask. Diana told him that she was working abroad in Canada, doing historical research for a publisher, about Quebec, and that she was only in London for another day or two. He told her about his company and was pleased that she seemed so interested in it.

  ‘My sister also started a market research company a few years ago.’

  ‘Really. What’s her name? Maybe I know her.’ he asked.

  ‘I doubt it. The company didn’t last very long.’

  ‘Why was that? Did she have problems?’

  ‘Yes. One big problem. Apparently she found it virtually impossible to secure any worthwhile contracts because, she said, it seemed that she was expected to pay incentives.’ Diana sipped the excellent Burgundy that Peter had chosen.

  ‘I found it hard to believe that what she said was the case. But she was quite insistent that it was, and was worried that her company would go under as a consequence. I told her she might as well pay a few bribes if that meant her business would work. I know its wrong, but sometimes you have to be a little flexible.’

  ‘And did she pay these bribes?’ he asked.

  ‘No. She went on about how she had a certain sense of business ethics that wouldn’t allow her to countenance such things. I think she was rather stupid and just deluding herself. Unfortunately I was proven right. Her company folded after six months.’

  ‘Yes, I agree with you. Sometimes it can be very costly to have too strict a sense of ethics, as your sister learnt.’

  ‘What do you think, Peter? You’re big in market research.’ She paused as if considering the next part of what she was going to say. ‘Do you pay bribes or incentives,’ she asked mischievously, ‘or do you subscribe to a code of ethics that prevents you from taking advantage of a situation.’

  He was in two minds whether to be honest or to lie, but she was so captivating and so obviously a supporter of the free market, that she would probably be impressed by the truth.

  ‘Well to be perfectly candid I have actually made arrangements with one or two of my clients.’ He lowered his voice and looked around the roo
m in a mock conspiratorial fashion as he spoke.

  ‘Do you mean you bribe them? Gosh, how exciting!’ She whispered loudly and looked at him with a gleam in her eye, such that he couldn’t resist telling her more. He felt he could take her into his confidence, even on such short acquaintance, and, after all in a few days’ time she would be far away.

  ‘When I first started I found that to get the big accounts it was expected to make a payback to whoever was handling the account,’ he said.

  ‘So my sister wasn’t making it up. It really does happen.’

  ‘This wasn’t necessarily the case with everyone. It was more likely to be the really big companies. For instance, our kind hosts of the other day at the races, Amalgamated Magazines. They’re my biggest client and the only way I secured that account was by paying for it.’ He paused to light a cigarette.

  ‘This is fascinating. Do tell me more,’ she prompted eagerly.

  ‘I approached them because I had a friend from university who was working for them in their research department. When he found out about the type of business I was trying to start he invited me in for a chat and to see if he could help. During the course of that meeting he indicated that he could give me as much work as I could handle, but he made it abundantly clear that he would want a cut, in return for his help.’

  ‘How did he do that?’

  ‘Oh, he was quite blatant. He just asked “What’s in it for me?” I wasn’t sure that I’d heard him correctly, or if I had that I believed what I was hearing. When I asked him what he meant he said fifty per cent of every contract he put my way should be all right.’

  ‘That’s incredible. I didn’t think things like that happened in real life.’

  ‘I can assure you, they most certainly do.’

  ‘What was you reaction?’ she asked.

  ‘Like your sister I was suitably outraged and went on about it being dishonest and illegal, and how I didn’t want my company to be built on that sort of behaviour. I told him that I didn’t want my reputation and good name to be tarnished if people were to find out. I thought that if people found out they would never do business with me again. You know, the usual sanctimonious, holier than thou, bullshit that people come up with when they’re young and innocent.’