Midnight. Josephine Cox
you now, I won’t be calling you. Like I say, I know what’s coming, and I’m probably better equipped to deal with it now I’m older.’
A short time later, they left the house. Within the hour, Jack had dropped her off at the estate agents in Woburn, before travelling on to the Bletchley showroom, where he clinched a deal with a longstanding customer.
‘You’ve made the right choice, Mr Gallagher.’ With the papers signed and the monies paid, Jack led the client outside, where the shiny new Lexus was parked and waiting.
‘I doubt there’ll be any problems.’ Handing over the car-keys, he then shook the buyer by the hand. ‘If you think of anything you’ve forgotten to ask, just give us a shout.’
The customer was a weasel of a man, but while he looked somewhat lost in such a big car, he appeared more than capable as he skilfully manoeuvred it out of a tight spot, before driving off at some speed.
Jack rubbed his hands. ‘Another satisfied customer,’ he thought, feeling very pleased with himself. ‘Another sizeable commission.’ But when he remembered his appointment in a couple of hours’ time, his sense of achievement fell away.
‘What’s wrong with you?’ Jan the receptionist had noticed how he seemed on top of the world when he walked by her with the customer, and now he looked as though the weight of the world was on his shoulders. ‘Lost one of your boy-toys, have you?’ she quipped. ‘Don’t be sad. There’s another delivery in today.’
‘That’s right.’ Jack gave her a cheeky wink. ‘One out, another in. Keeps the wheels turning, so they say.’
‘Oh, I see.’ She tutted. ‘So does that apply to women too – one out, another in?’
‘I never said that.’ He was used to her teasing.
As he hurried back to the office, she called after him, ‘At least when you sell a car, you can look forward to a commission! Not me, though. I smile and make the tea. I answer the phone, run about and take a lot of stick from you lot. But I get no commission.’
Jack leaned out of the office door, ‘Ah, but you get the unending gratitude of the team, and a big smile from yours truly. What else do you want?’
‘Do you really need me to tell you?’
Jack laughed out loud. ‘Not just now.’
‘Later then?’ She gave him a saucy smile.
‘Behave yourself, you!’ He went back into the office, still smiling at her naughty banter.
A short time later, having filed away the last of the paperwork from the sale, he made his way to the main office and tapped on the door.
‘Come!’ The voice was small, but the man seated behind the desk was built like a buffalo, with a short, thick beard and dark-rimmed spectacles. ‘I see you’ve clinched that deal this morning? Well done, Jack!’
Hoisting himself out of his seat, the boss, Branagan, strolled across to where the office window looked into the showroom. ‘So, what can I do for you?’ Hands clenched behind his back, he commented, ‘Well, now! For a man who’s just earned himself a handsome commission, you don’t seem too pleased with yourself. Is there a problem?’
Jack explained, ‘I need to beg some time off this afternoon – an hour, possibly two.’
Stuart Branagan became curious. ‘Might I ask why?’
‘Doctor’s appointment,’ answered Jack.
‘Really? Is everything OK?’
Jack already had an answer. ‘It’s nothing serious – well, at least it’s serious to me, because it’s quite painful. I strained my back some time ago. I just need my GP to take a look so he can give me something for the discomfort, that’s all.’
‘Strained your back, you say?’ The manager was instantly on his guard. ‘You haven’t been lifting stuff on these premises when you’re not supposed to, have you? Because if you have, there’ll be no comeback on the company. You know the rules, Redmond!’
Jack was quick to reassure him. ‘No, it’s nothing I’ve done here. I don’t know how I did it, but it’s beginning to really play me up. My doctor will probably prescribe anti-inflammatories, that’s all. I won’t be away long. An hour. Two at the most, depending on traffic.’
Branagan gave a crude laugh. ‘Too much nookie with that girlfriend of yours, is it?’
Jack ignored his unwelcome remark.
Seeing that Jack was not amused, the big man went on to remind him, ‘Don’t forget we’ve got a delivery late this afternoon. It’ll be all hands on deck.’
‘Don’t worry. I’ll be back in plenty of time.’
‘Mmm!’ Branagan was none too pleased, but he needed Jack, especially as he himself had only been with the company for a short time and was still learning the ropes. Moreover, with the under-manager having left a fortnight back, Jack’s experience and expertise were invaluable to him, at least for now.
‘Very well. But make sure you’re here when that delivery arrives.’ With that, Branagan swung round on his heels and, without another glance at Jack, returned to his desk.
As Jack closed the door behind him, the older man muttered, ‘You’ve become far too big for your boots in these showrooms, Redmond! It’s even got to the point where the staff would rather go to you for advice than come to me.’
He had a habit of sucking his bottom lip when rattled, and he was rattled now. ‘Undermining my authority, that’s what you’re doing. Well, I know your little game.’
He watched as Jack retreated into his office. ‘I’ve already got the man to fill your shoes, Redmond!’ he mumbled spitefully. ‘So the sooner I can shift you up north, the better.’
His new son-in-law Jamie was the sort of person he needed to work under him. Unambitious, but hardworking. Ready and able to make the sales, but not too keen to take on managerial responsibility.
Oh, yes. Once he was rid of Jack, he would choose his staff carefully. Capable salesmen who, as long as they got their commission, were not too bothered if someone else took all the glory.
When he realised the receptionist was looking at him, he smiled sweetly and gave a condescending nod. If he hadn’t dropped the blinds before returning to his work, he might have seen the rather crude sign she made to him.
Jack saw it, though, and smiled to himself. Having already been obliged to discreetly mop up the new manager’s mistakes, Jack held much the same opinion of Stuart Branagan as Jan did. ‘Little sergeant-major!’ he mumbled, ‘hunched in his office, ordering tea and biscuits, and putting on airs, while the minions out here have to work twice as hard to keep the place going.’ He had hoped he might get on with the new manager, but no matter how he tried, he could find no respect for him.
‘All right then, Jack?’ That was Bill West, a young newcomer, wet behind the ears but eager to make a name for himself.
‘Fine thanks, Bill. And you?’
‘Not sure.’
Jack understood. ‘Been thrown in at the deep end again, have you?’
The younger man nodded mournfully. ‘You couldn’t help me out, could you, Jack? Only I’ve mixed my appointments up again. I don’t want to tell the boss-man, or that’ll be his excuse to have me out the door.’
He went on quietly, so as not to be overheard: ‘Trouble is, I’ve got this customer arriving in five minutes . . . he wants a trial run in the four-by-four. But when I checked my notes just now, I realised I’ve gone and booked Mr Tomlinson in at the same time, and I can’t get hold of him to change the appointment. He’s not answering his phone.’
‘What’s he coming in for?’
‘To