One Rainy Day (3 page)

‘That was delicious, Father.’ Andrew patted his lips with the napkin. ‘Shall we have our coffee in the smoking room, and you can enjoy one of your cigars?’

‘Good idea, my boy. I have much to discuss with you regarding business and staff.’

When they were seated facing each other in the deep comfortable leather chairs, Andrew said, ‘You mentioned staff, Father. Does that mean you are taking more people on, or cutting down? I hope mine are safe, for we work very well together.’

‘We’ll discuss what I have in mind for staff later, Andrew. First I would like to talk about your views on how best to help Charlotte lead a more meaningful life. I don’t want to go at the subject like a bull in a china shop, but you have alerted me to the pitfalls she may encounter as she approaches marriageable age. Have you any suggestions?’

‘I really don’t want to interfere, for I don’t want my sister or mother to turn against me. I said what I felt in my heart, for I love Charlotte dearly, and would be devastated if her life was ruined because she knew nothing about the big bad world outside. She sees life as all milk and honey, and we both know that is far from the truth. Except for the very rich, who have never worked a day in their lives, and haven’t a clue how ninety per cent of the population live.’ Andrew sighed. ‘I’m sorry I got carried away, Father. I’m not a communist, far from it. I don’t begrudge anyone their money – how could I when I’ve lived in luxury all my life! You’ve worked hard to build up the business, and you’re entitled to everything you have. And I’m happy to say I earn a living now. But Charlotte doesn’t even give a thought to where the money comes from to keep her in luxury. And that is wrong. She should know money has to be earned, it doesn’t grow on trees.’

George tilted his head. ‘You’ve never talked about it before.’

Andrew shrugged his shoulders. ‘I suppose my time at university brought home the fact that life is not always fair. I had plenty of money to splash around. You were very generous and I was able to live the good life down in London. It took a while for me to understand that other blokes weren’t as fortunate. Their families were struggling to pay their fees, and unlike myself and the blokes I had chummed up with, there were no nights out on the town for them. And after a few years, I decided I would like to earn a living. The rest you know, Father, and I think you’ve heard enough from me. I hope I didn’t sound as though I have been anything but grateful to you for everything. You made me what I am.’

‘Nonsense, my boy, you proved your worth with your dedication and hard work. And now we have established that fact, I think we should get down to business. As I said, I wish
to discuss the matter of staff. We’ll start with your office, shall we? Are you satisfied with the people you have, or dissatisfied?’

‘Oh, I am quite satisfied. The office runs like clockwork thanks to Mrs Stamford and the two typists. We get along very well with each other, and I wouldn’t wish to change anything.’

George and his son were alike in looks, except that George was a few inches shorter, and his black hair was lightly flecked with grey. The dark brown eyes were the same, as were the thick black eyebrows. And the eyebrows were drawn together now as he stroked his chin. ‘So, you wouldn’t welcome any changes in your office, then?’

‘That is difficult for me to answer, Father, for you are the boss. If you want to make changes, then of course I’ll fall in with your wishes.’ Andrew’s boyish grin appeared. ‘I have to say, though, that I would be sorry to lose any of my staff, for we really work as a team.’

‘I wasn’t thinking of removing a member of your staff, dear boy, I was of a mind to increase it by one.’

Andrew looked surprised. ‘I don’t require any more staff. We manage very well.’ Then he added, ‘But of course it is up to you, Father. What have you in mind?’

‘You have a spare office on your floor. I was thinking of making use of it for your filing cabinets. You will have need of more filing space when I transfer some of our clients’ business over to you. And of course, a young clerk will be required to be in charge of the files.’

‘This comes out of the blue, Father. How long have you had this change in mind?’

George tapped his chin. ‘Let me think. It must have been on my mind for a year now. I told myself that your hard work should be rewarded, and that on the day of your twenty-fifth
birthday, I would transfer some of my business over to you. And on the same day you would become a junior partner in the firm.’ He laughed with pleasure at his son’s astonishment. ‘Well, have you nothing to say, my son?’

Andrew’s face was white, and although his lips were moving it was a few seconds before any words came. ‘I can’t believe it, Father, and I certainly didn’t expect it. I had no idea; you never hinted at such a promotion. When did you decide?’

‘As I said, it was probably a year ago. You were dedicated to your work, never late and never taking time off. And your loyalty deserved to be rewarded. Are you pleased?’

‘Pleased, Father, I’m flabbergasted! I never in my wildest dreams thought of this.’

‘I’m glad you like your present, dear boy. Happy birthday.’

Andrew left his chair to shake his father’s hand. ‘Am I allowed to tell our guests tonight that I am now a man of importance, or is it to be a secret for a while?’

‘Good heavens, no! You can shout it from the rooftops if you wish.’ There came a muted guffaw from George. ‘Not from our rooftop, of course, for your mother would be mortified.’

‘If you see me with an inane grin on my face, and a faraway look in my eyes, you will do something to bring me out of my trance, won’t you?’

‘I most certainly will! You have to live up to your new status, my boy. Cool and confident at all times.’

Still trying to take in the unexpected, but wonderful, news, Andrew managed a smile. ‘It may take a few days for me to manage that, but I will get there, Father, you have my word on it.’

George and his son talked long into the afternoon, each at ease in the other’s company. Andrew felt close to his father as they discussed future plans for the business. He would have been content to sit there longer, and was disappointed when his father took out his fob watch and said it was time to make their way home.

‘I’ll leave my car here overnight and travel with you. It will save time, and we can talk some more.’ George chuckled. ‘Besides, I can’t say I enjoy driving.’

As they walked towards Exchange Station to pick up Andrew’s car, he said, ‘If you don’t enjoy driving, Father, I can bring you in each day, and drive you home. I would be more than happy to.’

Again George chuckled. ‘Ah, well, you see, my boy, your offer is much appreciated, but it would put me in a dilemma. I would have to ask myself whether I would enjoy being driven to work each day, or whether I would prefer the extra half-hour in bed. Being senior partner gives me some privileges, and one is that I am not tied to time.’

‘What would be your answer to yourself?’ They were nearing the bay where the car was parked, and Andrew felt in his pocket for the key. ‘Comfortable ride into the office each day, or a comfortable half-hour extra in bed?’

George waited for the passenger door to be opened, then slipped into the seat. ‘Decisions, decisions, dear boy. How much easier life would be if we didn’t have to make them.’

His hand on the open door, Andrew bent down until his face was on a level with his father’s. ‘Let me tell you what I would choose if I were in your position. I would give it some thought, then decide the winner was half an hour extra in bed. And I would tell myself it was only what I deserved.’

‘Sound advice, my son. Now let us make for home, or you’ll be in danger of arriving late for your own birthday party, and your mother would be most displeased.’

As Andrew drove out of the city towards the outskirts, the conversation returned to business. And they were still on the subject when he drove through the tall impressive pillars fronting the Wilkie-Brook estate. There was a large front garden, with mature trees partly hiding the imposing house from passers-by. Andrew drove down past the side of the house to where the family cars were kept. The building had, many years ago, been used to house a horse, a carriage, and sleeping quarters for the groom. It now acted as a garage for George, Andrew and Charlotte. The back garden was huge, with lawns, flower beds, trees, bushes and an orchard. And it was immaculate, having a full time gardener to tend it. His name was Jim Woods, and he’d been tending the Wilkie-Brooks’ garden for ten years. He tended it with a passion that caused many a row with his wife. She accused him of loving the garden more than he did her. He denied it, of course, but alone in the garden on a summer’s day, when all the flowers were in bloom, he had to admit the pink roses were much prettier than she was. And they never answered him back, or kept talking when he wanted to be quiet.

When the car was parked, George and Andrew walked back down the side of the house to the front door. They had to pass the kitchen, and the sounds that reached them told of the hectic activity inside. ‘Your mother will be busy ordering the staff to do this that and the other,’ George said. ‘And she only makes things worse. If she would just sit back and let them get on with what they do best, life would be much easier for all concerned.’

‘I can understand Mother, though,’ Andrew said. ‘She wants to see with her own eyes that everything is going to plan. She’s a perfectionist.’

George chortled as he climbed the high step into the vestibule, which boasted beautiful stained glass windows. ‘I’m afraid she will be a very angry perfectionist, my boy, for I promised faithfully that we would be home before five o’clock. It is now ten minutes to six. So batten down the hatches, we could be in for a rough ride.’

Andrew shook his head. ‘Don’t forget it’s my birthday, and everyone has to be nice to a person on their birthday.’

George winked at his son before opening the door to the large, magnificent square hall. The wide curved staircase caught the eye first, the stairs being covered in the same thick maroon carpet as the floor. Paintings lined the walls, a huge antlered mahogany coat stand had pride of place by the door, and a crystal chandelier hung over the highly polished round table which stood in the centre.

One of the four doors leading off the hall opened as George was removing his gloves, and his wife, Harriet, walked in. Her nostrils flaring and her hands clasped across her stomach, she faced her husband. ‘I hope you have a reasonable excuse for being late, George, and breaking your promise?’

Andrew quickly moved forward. After all, she couldn’t be
angry with him on his birthday. ‘It’s all my fault, Mother. Don’t blame Father for us being late.’ He took hold of her hands and gently squeezed them. ‘This has been the most wonderful day of my life, Mother; please don’t spoil it. Firstly, you are working very hard to give me what I know will be a most lavish party, that will have our friends green with envy. And while I was looking forward to this evening, unaware of what Father had in store for me, he presents me with a birthday gift I would never have expected in my wildest dreams.’

Harriet looked past him to where her husband was standing. ‘Have you been keeping a secret from me, George? You know I dislike secrets. Had I known you were buying a present for Andrew, I would have been delighted to help you choose a suitable one.’

‘I didn’t buy Andrew a present, my love, I gave him something far more important. But as it’s our son’s birthday, I’ll let him tell you himself.’

‘Look at me, Mother.’ Andrew put a finger under her chin and turned her to face him. ‘You are the first person to have the privilege of meeting the junior partner of Wilkie-Brook’s.’

Harriet turned to her husband, her mouth open to tell him she should have been informed before the deed was done. But the words died on her lips as the significance of what she’d heard sunk in. How much nicer it would be to introduce her son as junior partner with the firm, rather than say he worked for his father. ‘That is very generous of you, my darling, and I’m sure the dear boy appreciates his new status.’ She cupped her son’s face in her two hands and kissed him on each cheek. ‘Well done, dearest. I really am very happy for you.’

George rounded the table and put a hand on Andrew’s
arm. ‘We are cutting things rather fine, my boy. Our guests will be arriving in an hour, and we have to bathe and change.’

His wife agreed. ‘You must be here to welcome your guests, my love; it would be bad manners if you were not. So make haste, the pair of you.’

‘Is Charlotte not around?’ Andrew asked. ‘I haven’t seen her for my birthday kiss.’

‘There’ll be plenty of time later,’ Harriet said, waving her hand towards the stairs. ‘Be assured she hasn’t forgotten you. She is very excited, and will be wearing a beautiful new dress in your honour.’ Once again she waved her hand. ‘Make haste, now; I don’t want to make excuses to our guests for your absence.’

‘Have faith, Mother. I shall be at the door to greet them.’ With that, Andrew took the wide stairs two at a time.

George was ready before his wife, and he wandered downstairs and headed for the kitchen. To say it was busy would be an understatement, for the staff were running to put the final touches to dishes that not only looked delicious, but would bring sighs of pleasure from the owners of appreciative palates.

The housekeeper, Frances, was a bonny woman, with a well-rounded body, rosy red cheeks, mousy hair and an ever-present smile. She ran the house and staff like clockwork, and her eyes missed nothing. She had worked for the Wilkie-Brooks for ten years, and had her own bedroom and sitting room.

Jane the cook came in at ten in the mornings and worked until eight o’clock, except on Sunday which was her day off. She had a wonderful happy personality, and her cooking had to be tasted to be believed. She was a wizard in the kitchen, and even the housekeeper wouldn’t dare to interfere or
criticize. They were good mates, and Jane would always stay late to help Frances when there was anything special happening, like a birthday party.

Then there was fifteen-year-old Rosie, a young housemaid. She worked from eight until five, and lived with her parents and younger brother. She’d only been employed there for nine months, and was still in awe of the house and its occupants.