In The Name Of Love (14 page)

"Your behaviour here has been totally irresponsible, and I
have no option but to make some comment about it on your employment record. You
have been accusing Mr. Worthington of all sorts of misbehaviour for many months
now, while all the time it was you leading him on."

He raised his hand, as Beryl opened her mouth to speak. "No,
I know what I saw in that office, and between the two of us, I must confess I
also saw that you were wearing no undergarment. Proof enough that you have been
the guilty party with your amorous and seductive approaches to an officer of
this department I am most sorry to see forced to  leave."

He paused to blow his nose, showing how upsetting this
affair was to him, but Beryl sat frozen in her chair, stunned with what she was
hearing. Everything was collapsing around her, and there seemed nothing she
could do about it.

"Your work has been very good and I shall be able to give
you a fine reference, so I'm pretty sure you will soon find another position.
And of course, if you win the election in a couple of months you will soon be
Mayor of Stockport. All the more reason we all keep this affair and your
uncontrollable attraction to a senior member of my staff very quiet. Don't you
agree?"

Beryl nodded her head, and then the import of his words sunk
into her dazed brain. "Reference? Does this mean you're asking me to leave?"

"No, my dear," said Graham, with his sternest glare, "It
means that I am very close to accepting your letter of resignation. Now go to
your desk, write it, but don't date it and then bring it straight back here. I
shall keep it handy in the event of any continuance of your ill-advised
behaviour."

That night over dinner, Cyril gave April and Joyce some of
the details of what happened in the office that day, and why he felt forced to
resign.

"Graham came into the room while Beryl had her arms around
my neck, and her mouthpiece, Janice, confirmed that I'd made the advances."

"But what about Mary, what did she say?" asked Joyce, red
with anger at this horrible turn of events.

"Sadly, she was out of the room, only returning seconds
after Graham arrived."

"Did Graham ask you to leave?"

"Not at all, he understood exactly what happened when I told
him, but agreed with me, that if I stayed employed in the department, Beryl
could stir up all sorts of problems."

"This is dreadful, what is going to happen now?" said Joyce,
collapsing back into her chair with a loud wail.

"Well, I have resigned and Graham is arranging to commute my
pension to a lump sum. As we've been planning this past few months, April and I
will start our insurance brokerage in Stockport. Mary and one or two others
will join us in due course. I am leaving with full honours, and nobody is going
to hear any whispers or bad news."

"I hate the thought of that Beryl still working there,
perhaps even at your job, and knowing she has won," said April, sipping at her
sherry. "I just wish there was something we could do about her…"

Cyril looked at her and his love for her increased tenfold
at that moment. She loved him, and was concerned for him, and did not like the
idea of somebody ‘besting him' at all. He glanced over at Joyce and said,
"Well, I do have a small germ of a plan in mind that you can put into action,
Joyce."

The two women stared at him with hope in their eyes. Joyce
nodded and waited for him to continue, but instead he went over to April and
put his arms around her before saying, "My darling, what I have in mind is to
benefit both you and I, but it will be better if you're not part of it at all.
I ask you to trust me, and leave me and Joyce to work it out together."

She did not hesitate, but stood up and kissed his forehead.
"Of course, my darling, but remember, it is not just you and I, there's also a
third person to take care of…" she smiled and left the room rubbing her
slightly extended stomach.

When she'd left the room, Cyril turned to Joyce and said,
"I'd forgotten all about her pregnancy, I do hope I didn't upset her."

"Of course not, she loves you so much it almost hurts, and
nothing you could say or do would upset her at the moment."

"Thank you;  that's important to me."

"Well, go on, what is your plan?"

"I want this Bainbridge woman to be taken down a peg or two,
because she's blight to humanity. Mary tells me she's bossing all the staff in
the department as if she's in control, despite Graham asking Mary to look after
things."

"Well, it won't be easy, what with the Mayor retiring,
Bainbridge is gaining popularity every day, and it could even be a walkover…"

"I have to stop it, and here's where you can help. Beryl is
a frustrated female at a dangerous age, and she would be most susceptible to a
romantic approach from an unscrupulous man, right now."

"I have long thought the same, but where can we find…?" she
broke off with a smile on her face.

"Yes, Grant. He's the perfect man to sweep her right off her
feet."

Joyce was reluctant for her new beau to be used like this,
but his frequent and prolonged visits to Yorkshire, where she was in no doubt
that he was seeing April's mother, had soured their relationship to the extent
she'd asked him to leave her room and return to the single bedroom. The
mirrored doorway was now securely locked.

"I'm not sure he'd help, right now," she said, thoughtfully.

"Well, how about you tell him about your cottage in
Peacehaven, encouraging him to believe you and he will leave the area and
settle down together…"

"You're incorrigible, Cyril. He is failing miserably with
selling pensions, since making that first sale, and I know he would like to
leave, so perhaps your plan has merit."

"Good, well, here's what I want you to tell him."

Ten days later, Grant lay in his bed in the Royal Oak Hotel
wondering what was happening to his life. In the last couple of months his
beautiful 22-year old wife had been exchanged for the attractive, but
domineering 47-year old Joyce. To make matters worse, after telling him she was
too young to start a family, he learned only last week that his wife was now
pregnant with Cyril's baby and that she had filed for divorce.

His new promotion was on the rocks, and he'd been told to
improve by the end of the month, or return to Leeds. While the thought of
failure was a dismal one, leaving Stockport with its unhappy memories was
becoming a more attractive idea every day. He could stay with Edna until he
found a place of his own; she'd be more than happy to have him there. His
weekly trips to her bedroom had become a pleasant habit, because not only was
she most active between the sheets, she made no demands or requests of him at
all.

Thanks to this new activity forced on him by Joyce, he'd
missed seeing Edna for the past two Wednesdays and found he was missing her
company. Especially living in the hotel room alone and miserable, with nothing
to do but stare at an old television all evening.

He'd spend most evenings visiting the cafés and restaurants
that were supposed to be popular with this Beryl Bainbridge woman, but he'd
only seen her the one time, and she was accompanied by a young woman. This gave
him little opportunity to approach Beryl. The strident ringing of the hotel
phone brought him sharply out of his reverie, and he crossed the  room to pick
up the receiver.

"Hello, Grant Wilson speaking."

"Hello Grant, this is Joyce. How are you?"

"I'm fed up, lonely, hungry, and miserable. How are you?"

"I'm missing you terribly, but with a bit of luck, it will
all be over this evening."

"What do you mean?" he said, his spirits rising at the
thought.

"Well, there's a ticket waiting for you in reception for the
dinner dance at the Town Hall this evening. I told you I'd get one for you; and
even better, I've arranged through a friend of a friend to get you on Beryl
Bainbridge's table."

"So, tonight's the night?"

"If you think you can work that fast, it may well be. Then
next week we can be on our way to Sussex, and my little cottage in Peacehaven."

"Will the photographer be in place tonight?"

"I have a contact watching you at the dance. If you think
she will accept your invitation to go back to your room, just remove the
handkerchief from your top pocket, and everything will be ready."

"If what you say about the woman is even half true, she'll
jump at the chance to spend the evening alone with me…"

"You're not that handsome," snapped Joyce.

"It is more a matter of how lonely she is, and how keen to
change things."

"Yes, of course, you're right, I'm sorry," she paused, and
when he didn't reply she said, "Well, good luck, and try not to enjoy it…"

He heard the phone slam down and said, "I plan to enjoy
every single moment in bed with the woman. I've been alone for almost three
weeks, and I'm getting most horny."

He went over to the wardrobe and took out the new charcoal
grey suit Joyce had made him buy, with a white silk shirt and dark blue tie. He
laid out clean socks and underwear, and then went to the bathroom to run a hot
bath. Glancing in the mirror at his image, he gave a wink and said, "That poor
Bainbridge woman won't stand a chance…"

-o-

Less than a mile away, but on the other side of the railway
tracks, Beryl lay on the sofa with a migraine that was not helped by the large
gin and tonic she'd just finished. She was close to deciding not to go to the
dinner and dance this evening, because they always ended in abject failure, with
Beryl sitting alone at the table while all the other diners were laughing and
dancing the night away.

The forthcoming election was only a few weeks away, however,
and it was necessary for her to keep up the pressure by making as many public
appearances as possible. There was usually a press photographer or two at these
affairs; and with Beryl promised a seat at the top table, she may just get into
one or two group photos.

Still mulling over whether to go or not, she picked up the
newspaper from where she'd dropped it on the floor.
Let's read my horoscope,
and then I will decide…"

Turning to the back pages she found the horoscope section
and started to read it aloud.

"Virgo; this is the day you've been waiting for. A tall dark
stranger will offer to sweep you off your feet. Don't let this opportunity
pass, or you will regret it the rest of your days."

Beryl read it through twice more, and then tore out the
section. Her headache was gone, and there was a spring in her step as she made
her way upstairs to the bathroom to prepare for the evening ahead.

Some two hours later, Beryl was sitting at the table with an
elderly gentleman to her left, who seemed terribly hard of hearing, because he
did not answer any of her questions. There was an empty chair to her right and
next to it sat a beautiful young blonde girl, barely out of her teens.

Her
department boss, Graham Baines and his wife Margaret sat opposite her, and she
dearly hoped the empty chair by her side was not reserved for Cyril
Worthington. She tried to catch Graham's eye, but like most people at the
table, he studiously ignored her.

"Hello, I'm Elizabeth Baines," said the young woman.

Beryl turned to look at the young girl with a smile and
said, "I'm pleased to meet you, Elizabeth, I'm Beryl Bainbridge. That is your
parents over there, I take it?"

"Yes, and it's their idea that I attend this evening. They
said I may meet a young man, ignoring the fact that I have a boyfriend."

"Why is that, do you think?"

"They don't like Derek, because he's a mechanic. Dad says I
must meet somebody from our own class – whatever that means."

"I'm sure your father means well," said Beryl, stuck for
words and already hating the young woman who was going to be hot competition
for the ‘tall dark stranger' her horoscope had promised.

"He thinks that he's always right," said Elizabeth with a
sniff, "He's also said you're going to be our next Mayor – is that right?"

Beryl preened herself and said, "He may well be right, I am
standing for Mayor, and many think I can win the election." Her voice tailed
off as she saw the man enter the room. Surely this was him – the ‘tall dark
stranger' who would offer to sweep her off her feet. He stood just inside the
door, not knowing which way to go for his seat, and Beryl whispered to herself,
"Oh, let it be him. Please, let it be him!"

The man seemed to glance her way, and then with purposeful
strides he weaved his way through the tables until he was at her table. She saw
him glance at the other guests, nodding and smiling in turn, and then walk
around the table to stand before the empty chair.

"Well, so this is my chair; I shall be a veritable thorn
between two roses!" he said, in a deep cultured voice.

"Not at all," replied Elizabeth with a trilling giggle, "I'm
honoured to have you sitting next to me."

"The honour is all mine," said the young man, holding out
his hand to Elizabeth, "My name is Grant Wilson."

"I'm Elizabeth Baines," she said, with almost a curtsey, and
if looks could kill, Beryl's glaring eyes would have struck her down a dozen
times already.

The man turned to Beryl, holding out his hand and said, "And
who is this charming young lady?"

Beryl gave him a limp hand, and when she tried to speak her
voice dried up and no sound came out. She coloured up, and struggled to clear
her throat, but the hateful young girl came to her rescue when she said, "This
is Miss Bainbridge, the next Mayor of Stockport."

Beryl thought she was going to die, when instead of shaking
her hand he pressed it to his lips and said, "I am honoured to meet you, Miss
Bainbridge."