Chasing What's Already Gone (Second Chances Book 1) (13 page)

Chapter

Thirty-Two

I have never worked beyond seven p.m. in my life. It is now eleven-thirty, and I have not stopped. It seems that nice man, Mac, had a lovely little scam going on for him and his mates. The agreement the company had signed with the contractors was for a set figure for man-hours worked, plus a fifteen percent mark-up for materials used. A visual spot check by one of Buck’s team at the end of last Friday quickly highlighted the fact that although Buck’s man had only witnessed sixteen workers on site all day, their paperwork claimed for twenty-three people. Multiply that over six days a week through a seven-week period, add it to a bundle of missing materials, and I reckon the company has been ripped off for not far short of a hundred thousand pounds.

The first decision I have made is to sack the security company. They might well be kosher, but my gut feeling is that they are somehow involved. My fear that any company I contacted would feel they had me over a barrel and come up with inflated quotes has turned out to be wrong. Our profile locally is strong, we are bringing in employment to the area, so by five o’clock I have given the contract to a locally based company, who have two staff on site within the hour. I have therefore decided that I will only work with locally based companies from now on. These larger national units are not capable of giving me the hands-on service I have decided I need.

The boss of the security company has recommended to me a small building contractor, Edwin Pedlar, who says he wants the work but has admitted he needs a week’s grace to juggle his workload around.

I like the man’s attitude, so I try to stay positive.

“I’m not too concerned when you start, but I am one hundred percent focussed on when the work is finished.”

He does not respond instantly, but sounds reasonably upbeat when he does.

“The best idea is for me to meet you at the site in the morning. You can spend thirty minutes telling me what you need, what your budget is, what your completion date is, and I’ll tell you on the spot whether it is possible or not.”

“Good enough for me. Nine o’clock?”

“A lot earlier than that if possible.”

“Okay. What we’re you thinking?”

“Seven at the latest.”

Bloody hell! At least it will give me a whole day to look for alternatives if we cannot come to an agreement.

“Sure, no problem. See you then.”

At the time, I was quite excited. With the clock ticking towards midnight, I’m feeling shattered and even the prospect of eight hours’ sleep does not seem long enough. I’ve got to drive over to the hotel, shower, grab something from room service and be up at six to get back and open up the site for the meeting. Driving back to the hotel, I have a plan gelling in my head, and I would make some phone calls now if I had not left my mobile back on site. The mobile phone with the flat battery, which I could be charging up in the car right now!

***

“Good morning, JB. I have just had a phone call from Paris. The meeting for next Monday is cancelled. I was asked to let you know that Mr. Clement will ring you at three to update you on the changes.”

“Thank you, Monica.”

Gemma looks over at her boss, who she knows has been dreading this moment and makes a smiley face by putting a finger in either side of her face and pulling outwards. It does not relieve the stress and Jess cannot manage a smile in response.

“It was always going to happen, Jess.”

“I know that.”

“You have the grumps today.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Of course you don’t—but you do.”

Jess is not the easiest person in the world to extract information from, but her PA has developed a technique which involves a myriad of facial expressions. She throws her best hangdog look across the room.

Jess eventually reacts.

“Oh, it’s nothing.”

“Which in Jess-speak means it is something. Go on.”

“Well, I took your advice and did not ring Danny until after eight. He did not answer, so I finished up leaving a couple of messages, with no reply. I gave him one last call at ten-thirty and he had turned his phone off.”

“I knew you had worn him out.” It is the best response Gemma can come up with at such short notice. It did not generate the slightest chance of a smile from Jess. “I’m sure there is nothing to it. Didn’t you say he had a big promotion? Maybe he got diverted on a work thing.”

“I know that, but one of the things I liked about him is that I got the feeling that personal and family matters were more important than jobs and careers.”

“Jess, I hear all that, but could you repeat that sentence but replace ‘liked’ with ‘like’? He has not gone away. Trust me, because I trust your first instincts about him. Have a bit of faith in yourself. Paul Clement is a one off? Vile men like him only cross a girl’s path once in a lifetime. Don’t even dream of comparing the two. They’re like chalk and cheese.”

***

What a clown! There is only one hotel in the area of note, and driving by on my way to the site, it seemed to be built out of all proportion to the size of the local population. Therefore, I presumed, arriving at reception just after midnight, that I could sign in and be in bed within thirty minutes.

“I am sorry, sir, we are full tonight.”

“You have got to be kidding me. How many bedrooms have you got here?

“One hundred and two sir, and they are all occupied.”

He is loving this.

“Hang on, you have got one hundred and two rooms, here in the middle of nowhere, and every single room is taken.” I have made his week. This is what he gets up for in the morning, a chance to mock and humiliate.

“I’m sorry, sir, but I don’t think we are ‘in the middle of nowhere,’ and surely we cannot be if all our rooms are let.”

There are one or two people milling about, which is the only reason he is still living.

“So what do you suggest I do?”

“Well far from me to be suggestive”—he has gone all camp on me now—“but if you had rung us this afternoon, we could have informed you that we have a convention taking place all this week, and to try elsewhere. But be assured we will have vacancies this Friday…if you book now.”

I would rather sleep up a tree than come back to face this pompous clown again. He thinks he has won by a clear knockout, but I won’t take this lying down.

I take my revenge by squashing down on the back seat of my car—in
his
car park. Take that!

It is daylight by five-thirty, so I go over and take a peep through the reception doors.
He
is still on duty. Surely if
he
is on night shift,
he
must be clocking off soon. I need to have a wash in the gents’ cloakroom. but there is nothing I can do so I go back to the car and close my eyes. Sleep is impossible, or so I think.

Suddenly there is a knocking at my car window and standing over me is my nemesis.
I’m sorry, mate. I have no stomach for a fight. There must be a McDonald’s somewhere where I can at least splash some cold water around my face.
I reluctantly wind down my window, ready for the humiliation, but he reaches with both arms above my head and produces a tray loaded with fresh orange juice, a couple of croissants, and a small bunch of grapes.

“The gentlemen’s cloakroom is free at the present sir. If you can be in and out within ten minutes, it would be appreciated.” I cannot even manage a “thank you,” I am so moved by this simple generosity. I always tell my staff not to judge a book by its cover. Well, Danny Pearson, you start this day with a simple lesson; never judge a book by its cover.

Later, he feigns not seeing me as I leave the emptied tray on a coffee table and sneak into the gents and beautify myself. A couple of cleaners are arriving for work as I leave, so I stop them and ask, “What is the name of the man behind the reception desk?”

“Oh, that is Oliver, sir. He is the manager.”

Surprise number two.

“He’s a good man, isn’t he?”

“Oh yes, sir—a very good man.”

Books and covers, Danny. Well, at least I am going to get to the unit well in time to meet Edwin Pedlar.

***

Taking into account his name, Edwin, and the sound of his voice on the phone, I expected Edwin Pedlar to be in his sixties. In fact, he is probably a couple of years younger than me.

“Good morning, Edwin. I was expecting someone much older.”

“Good morning, Mr. Pearson. Don’t worry, I get that all the time.”

A firm handshake and a glint of humour in his eyes—I take an immediate liking to Mr. Pedlar.

“Call me Danny. Come on through and see what we have to get done and dusted within seven weeks.” We go through to a space that one day will be my office, and I open up the plans for him to look at.

“The thing is, Edwin…”

“Ed. Call me Ed.”

“The thing is, Ed, these plans look good on paper, but in practical terms they are nonsense.”

He looks over my shoulder and makes an immediate observation. “You’ve got a reception area at the back of the building.”

“Exactly. Whoever drew up these plans expected customers to drive all around to the back of the building and park their cars and vans here.”

“You’re not expecting to do much business then? Well, at least by the look of these drawings, you’re not.”

He has spotted, within a minute or two, things that did not occur to me for a few hours. I already know that if his price is half reasonable, he is my man for this job. I open up to him.

“Most—no, all of the changes I want to make to this plan are internal, so I cannot see a planning problem.”

“Agreed.”

I reach into my pocket and pull out an A5 envelope. “You will have to undo some of the work that has been done, but here is the other company’s quote.” He spends a few minutes looking over the quote. Eventually he puts it down and smiles at me.

“They’ve baffled you with science. They lost me after the first dozen lines. Let’s stop shadow boxing here and get down to the nitty-gritty.” Edwin then spends a few minutes carefully going through all the work I need done, with an emphasis on the deadline.

“I must have it ready for that opening weekend.”

“Of course. So what is your budget?”

I think about it and decide there is no point in “shadow boxing” so I give him a figure, just keeping ten thousand back from Head Office’s revised budget.

He stares at me, looks down at the floor, then speaks.

“My only problem is I need a site supervisor, someone who can run a slide rule over the work, keep on top of the workforce for those six weeks. My best men are already snowed under.”

“So that’s the only thing stopping you?”

“Well, that and I would need another six K.”

I thrust my hand at him. “Deal! Don’t worry, I have someone who can supervise. He will be perfect.”

“Yes?”

“Yes, guaranteed. Deal?”

“Deal it is.”

This is more like it. My stars for the month said I was heading for a rocky period. Yeah right—rock on!

***

“Still not answering his calls or returning your messages?”

“Mm, who?”

“JESS!”

“No, not a thing. I’ve put him to the back of my mind.”

“Jess.”

“Yes?”

“You haven’t put on any make-up yet this morning, and the buttons on your blouse are done up out of order. Get a grip, girl. He’ll call—I guarantee it.”

Chapter

Thirty-Three

“Morning, Chan. How are things today?”

“So-so, Danny.”

She sounds pretty low to me.

“Derek a bit low, is he?”

“You could say that. I’ve told him not to worry about the money—we’ll get through.”

“He spends a bit of time away from home, doesn’t he? I mean you are used to him being away from home, aren’t you?”

“Yes, why?”

“Doesn’t matter—put him on the phone.”

She carries the phone upstairs.

“Hi, Danny.”

He is feeling down, so I get straight to the point. “Hi, Derek. I’ve got a job for you. Trouble is, it’s only for the next six weeks.”

“Thanks, Danny, but I don’t want any charity.”

“Derek, this is anything but charity. I need your help or I am in the shit.”

As I said, Derek is a proud man, and the fact that it is the truth is going to work in my favour. I give him the background to the problems at the site and my conversation with Edwin Pedlar.

“It will be for six days a week. We will put you up in a local hotel and pay you four hundred pounds a week to supervise the site.”

“Four hundred pounds a week?”

“I’m sorry, Derek, that’s all there is in the kitty.”

“No, no. The money is more than generous. I don’t earn that most weeks when I’m working flat out. When would I start?”

“Next Monday. I would pick you up and bring you straight to the site.”

“That sounds fantastic.”

“You’re doing me a favour.” There is not much more to discuss, so I end the conversation. I ring Edwin’s number and leave a message. He calls me back later.

“I’ve got the supervisor sorted; he’s my brother-in-law. He is one hundred percent reliable. Well, other than that he has a broken ankle.” I throw a light-hearted laugh down the phone.

“That’s no good, Danny. He needs to be mobile on a site that is over an acre in size.”

Of course he does!

“How about if he was in a wheelchair?”

“Yes, I suppose so—but he must be mobile.”

“Okay, no problem.” Not okay—big problem.

I ring Chan again, and she starts to thank me before I can say a word.

“Oh, Danny, you are so wonderful. You’ve sorted out all our problems in one go.”

“Mm, not quite, Chan. I am sure you are going to have your work cut out, but you need to go and convince Derek he has to use a wheelchair.”

Absolute silence. A pin dropping would shatter my eardrums.

“Wait there, Danny.” I hold on the line, trying to picture the scene upstairs. My sister is a force of nature, but her husband is one hell of a proud, stubborn brute. There is a lengthy delay and it sounds like they are having a lively debate before Chan comes back on the phone.

“Hi, Danny, sorry to keep you. Yes, no problem at all. I will collect a wheelchair from the hospital today and Derek can get some practice in before next week.”

No problem at all. I bet not.

“Good girl. See you next Monday.”

“Okay, Daniel. Oh, by the way, how is—”

I’ve put the phone down. Things to do, things to do.

It takes me twenty minutes to find my mobile phone and somewhere to plug in the charger. The security people are only contracted for night time hours, so I have the place to myself, and within minutes I have dozed off.

When I wake up, I check my watch and register the fact that I have slept for nearly two hours. I check that my phone is fully charged, turn it on and head for the toilet. I have hardly time to finish my ablutions before the phone starts ringing. Probably loads of voice mails. Oh, the rich and famous.

“Hello, Mr. Pearson.”

Oh, a real person, but I do not quite recognise the voice.

“Bill Collins here.”

Bill Collins, who the hell is Bill Collins?

“Mm, yes?”

“This is Bill here…from Cotswold Lodge.”
BILL! Bill from Cotswold Lodge
.

“Why hello, Bill. My mind was off with the fairies. How are you today?”

“I am very well. Thank you for asking.”

“What can I do for you, Bill?” My stars are all aligned; not for a nanosecond do I think there is a problem.

“Everything has been agreed with Lord Brabham. Your references passed and you can move into Cotswold Lodge on Saturday.”

“Saturday. This Saturday. How can you move out so quickly?”

“Oh, we will be moved out by tomorrow night. I just need a day or so to spruce up the Lodge back to its former glory. In truthfulness, I cannot wait to move back in with Mary. She is only a few hundred yards away, but I don’t sleep well unless she is by my side.”

JESS! What—where am I? Jess had gone from my mind. I’m going crazy. Jess, how could I forget about Jess? I am ashamed. How shallow must I be?

“Mr. Pearson?”

“Sorry, Bill. Someone was trying to say something to me. Saturday, I can move in Saturday. That is the most wonderful news. I won’t have much furniture, but I am so excited I would move in with just an orange box if I could.”

“Look after the lodge for us, Mr. Pearson.”

“Danny, please call me Danny. I want to think of you as a friend, so you must call me Danny.”

“Fair enough, Danny. Hopefully I will see you on Saturday.”

“You will, Bill. You will.”

I throw the phone down and run to the car. I need Stan’s help. I type in
florist
and there is one shop locally, about six or seven miles away. I pass the hotel and make a note to drop in on my way back. It is a shop with a very small frontage, but the smell when I walk through the door lifts my spirits. A lady in her fifties walks through from the back of the shop.

“Hi. I need to send a bouquet to someone and it needs to be there within the next two hours.”

She waits for me to continue.

I might never see her again as long as I live, so she may as well have the whole story. I tell her exactly what I have—and more importantly, have not—done.

“And how much do you want to spend?”

“Oh, I don’t care, whatever it costs.”

The look on her face is withering.

“Of course it matters how much it costs. It sounds like the girl is better off without you, if you don’t mind my saying.”

I do not take the slightest exception at what she says. She is so right. How can I have any feelings for the girl if I just say bang anything together—that will do? Sometimes I do not like me.

“You are so right. Shall we start again?”

“Yes. I take it you have an address?” I give it to her. “That’s almost twenty miles away. My van will be back fairly soon. It will be twenty-five pounds for delivery.”

I nod. If I speak, we might have to start all over again.

“Would you like to help me pick out the flowers?”

“Actually, I would. Any guidance you can give me would be greatly appreciated.”

Ten minutes later she has thawed and I feel quite buddy-buddy with her.

“Actually, I move into a new house on Saturday.” I tell her the address.

“Is that the lovely little hobbit house?”

“Yes, it is. How do you know it?”

“I think everyone locally would know it, but a few years ago I passed by there and recognised Mary Collins sitting in the front garden. She used to be my English teacher at secondary school.”

“It’s a small world.”

“It is a small world—delivery to there will be sixteen pounds.”

I like her. No-nonsense on the surface, but as soft as butter underneath.

“How about I give you forty pounds and you surprise me.”

She glowers at me, but I can tell she likes the idea.

“I suppose so.”

“Any time after eleven-thirty. Thank you very much.” I start to walk out the shop door. “I hope to see you again in the near future.”

“Pardon me?” She is looking most vexed.

“Sorry, have I forgotten something? I have paid you, haven’t I?”

She turns her face to the heavens.

“I have had to stand here and listen to you wax lyrical about this ‘girl of your dreams’ who you ‘cannot live without,’ and you are sending her an anonymous bunch of flowers with no card, no apology—nothing. The girl is most definitely far better off without you. Wait there a second and I will refund your money.” She is making fun of me, but yet again she is absolutely right.

“Can I have a card, please, and a pen?”

“I am not writing it for you, if that’s what your next question is.”

The world seems to be full of funny people. I think very carefully and it is not until the third card that I am happy with the wording.

“Do you want to check it?” I ask her. She looks horrified, then smiles when she realises that I have nearly caught her out at her own game.

As I leave the shop, I give her a quick peck on the cheek and throw her a grin.

“Wish me luck.”

“Wish you luck? I wish the poor
girl
luck!”

Right, I am getting back on track. One more job before I get back to the unit. So I divert my return route to include a visit to the hotel. There is a young girl at reception.

“Could I speak to Oliver, please?” I ask.

“He’s on duty somewhere. I will put a call out for him.”

It takes a while, but he eventually makes it to the reception desk.

“Oliver, I wanted to thank you for your kindness today.”

“That was no problem, sir.”

What a nice man.

“I’d like a room next Monday for a six-week period.”

“For yourself, sir?”

I feel quite the man about town when I reply.

“No. For an employee.” I give him the name of our company and the fax number for Head Office. “Send through an invoice and it will be ratified immediately.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“No problem whatsoever. Now one more thing. I need a room, somewhere locally, for the next four nights. Is there anywhere you can recommend?”

“Bear with me, sir.” He moves over to a PC console. “A lady and gentleman withdrew from the conference this afternoon; a domestic matter, I believe. You are more than welcome to stay with us for four nights.”

“Oliver, you are my hero. Is the room vacant now?”

“It will be, sir.”

“Could I check in now? I am desperate for a shower.”

“That’s not for me to say, sir. But of course you are more than welcome.”

As camp as a Christmas tree, with a dry sense of humour. I like him big time.

It is a standard twin-bed room, but fresh and clean with the best shower I have washed under for many a month. I climb out of the shower, dry off, lie on the bed, and…

***

Jess drops the phone onto her lap and Gemma, walking through her boss’s office door, pretends she has not noticed.

“I’m thinking of calling it a day a bit earlier today, Gemma.”

“That’s no problem. You’re due for a meeting with Hutchinson in ten minutes and then you are clear for the rest of the day.”

“Hutchinson?” Jess blows out through her teeth.

“Go on, he’s not that bad. I will organise a taxi for twenty minutes’ time, and then you will have a ready-made excuse to get away.”

“Thanks, Gemma.”

Twenty minutes later Jess is back in her office, but Gemma has disappeared. Jess grabs her briefcase and is about to leave when Gemma rushes back into the room.

“Oh, I’m glad I caught you.”

“Only just.”

“Its…well, I’ve been thinking and I don’t know how to say it, but I think you should forget all about that Danny Pearson. Any man who can just walk away and ignore you is not worth bothering with.”

Jess nods slightly and makes a face in agreement.

Gemma continues, “I mean for heaven’s sake, the man couldn’t even bother to send you some flowers and an apology.”

“Oh, I’m not interested in flowers.”

“Really? Oh well, then.” With that Gemma turns around and runs out of the room. She comes back in carrying a beautiful bouquet of flowers and passes a card to Jess. “Tar-ah!”

“Have you read the card?”

“NO! But it must be him, unless there is something that your personal assistant knows nothing about. And anyway, the handwriting suits his personality.”

“Are you sure you haven’t read it?”

“Jess, I would never do that!”

Jess opens up the envelope and takes out the card.