Odd Job - a romantic story by WTSman While George looked after his sick wife his most trusted employee walked off with the business - and then his wife when she recovered. He now needs someone to help him rebuild. Jennifer has never had a proper job since finishing her training. She is excited to get a job. Any odd job. But this job sets a lot in motion. Within a week life has changed completely for Jennie and the people around her. __________________________ Chapter 1 The noise woke her up. Although it was half past eleven on a Tuesday morning, Jennifer - or Jennie with an 'i-e', thank you very much - was in bed feeling miserable and had dozed off. On Saturday she had had to move back in with her parents; after 3 years of un- and under-employment she could no longer afford the small bed-sitter that had been her home since moving out at 18. She had never gotten on with her mother and her mother's husband - everything from their reactionary politics to their joyless religion went counter to what she believed in, but in the end she had no choice. It was back to her old room or onto the street. And she didn't dislike them that much! At least not her mother. She detested her stepfather and he in return had seemed very reluctant to let her move back in. She had tried everything to avoid the situation, living extremely frugally. She had sent scores of applications every week - good ones too; she was a trained secretary after all, but she got next to no interviews and had only held part-time temporary jobs. Sometimes she didn't even get her pay, but she couldn't afford taking legal action. And sometimes she had had sleazy offers. They had been turned down firmly. Although she didn't share her parent's beliefs she was still influenced by them in as much as she was a virgin; technically speaking. Her deft hands, her pouty mouth and her deep silky-soft cleavage had triggered a fair few ejaculations, but she had never let a boyfriend get close enough to go all the way and get a dick inside her. While at school she stayed clear of this ultimate 'sinful temptation' her parents continuously warned her about. When she finally revolted, she had chosen an education that was women-only for all practical purposes - at least she met no eligible males. She had no close friends and rarely went out. The next chance to meet someone was usually through work, but she had never had a job long enough to meet anyone that special. And at present her worries were financial, not romantic. Besides, she was in no fit state to do anything at all right now anyway. Normally she would be job-hunting at this time of day, but she had her period and felt awful. She had actually been physically sick after breakfast and had crawled back to bed. The noise was her cell-phone ringing. She fumbled for it and almost didn't answer in time "It's Jennie," she mumbled. "Ms. Jennifer Banks?" a voice inquired. The man sounded cultured; Public school, but perhaps not quite upper crust. "Yes, that's me," Jennie replied - this time sounding slightly more coherent. "I was expecting you at 11AM. Has something happened?" the man said. "Sorry, you lost me here. Who am I speaking to please?" Jennie said - her receptionist training kicking in. "This is George Sanders," the man said. "You applied for a position with my company and I sent you a letter Thursday asking you to come for an interview at 11AM today. Surely it must have arrived?" Jennie groaned inwardly. Finally a positive response to an application, and she didn't get the letter! She felt despondent. "I am terribly sorry Mr. Sanders. I had to move and obviously the letter has not been forwarded." "Oh, I see. Yes, it sometimes takes a while before that service functions," the man said. Jennie could detect no anger or annoyance in his voice and her hopes rose. Presumably he didn't just call to scold her! His next utterance justified her optimism. "I don't suppose you would be able to come anyway with this short notice?" he asked. "Why, certainly. It's Sanders IT Security, isn't it? I can be at your premises in about an hour," Jennie said. That was overly optimistic, but she was willing to give it her best shot. "Shall we say 1PM?" the man said. He obviously knew London's public transport system quite well. Relieved, Jennie agreed and hung up. She rushed out into the bathroom and had a quick shower. She wouldn't have time to wash her hair which was a pity - it could certainly do with a wash, but her thick mane of copper red hair took forever to dry. There wasn't time to press her nicest business skirt either; it would have to do as it was - slightly crushed. The top she found was at least clean and conservative. The man had sounded old-fashioned somehow. Better not show too much leg and cleavage. The latter was difficult; she hated her large breasts and squeezing them into a tight bra was painful because her period made them so tender. She really also ought to hold back with the makeup, but although she usually had good clear skin, she was prone to acne during her period. She looked herself in the mirror and felt despondent again. She had several bad pimples and she thought she looked - and certainly felt - bloated. Not exactly the best way to present herself - late, bloated and painted like a tart to cover the blemishes. Not to mention in pain. She grimaced and realized she could scare small children with that expression. She rushed to the train station and missed a fast connection by seconds. The next service stopped at all stations and by the time she got to her stop, she had only 5 or 6 minutes to spare. But she was determined to make it and ran as fast as her aching body and pretty but impractical shoes would allow. At 1PM exactly she pressed the button labelled 'Sanders IT Security' next to the door of an office block mercifully close to the tube station. "Yes?" a male voice said. The sound from the intercom was bad so she couldn't tell if it was Mr. Sanders himself. "Jennifer Banks to see Mr. Sanders," Jennie said, trying not to sound quite as out of breath as she felt. "Excellent," the metallic voice replied. "Take the lift to the 3rd floor." She heard a buzzer, pressed open the door and crossed the small lobby to the lifts. Inside the lift, she found a 'Sanders IT Security' sign with a logo along with similar signs of several other companies next to the '3' button. OK, perhaps the company wasn't all that big. 'No matter,' Jennie thought, 'as long as they pay.' When she got out of the lift she had to revise her opinion several times again. She came out into a spacious reception area common to all companies on the 3rd floor and surrounded by glass walls. 'Sanders IT Security" seemed to occupy at least half of the floor and was thus huge in terms of floor space compared to the others. Only there seemed to be very little activity. She went to the door which had a large version of the logo frosted into the glass. Unsurprisingly it was locked - it was a security firm after all - and she was about to knock on the thick glass when a man seemingly in his forties appeared from an inner office. He was dressed in a business suit and looked delicate or possibly even fragile. With a welcoming smile, he walked briskly to the door. He swiped some electronic device on his key ring and a quiet click announced that the door was unlocked. Before she could even react, he had swung open the door for her with more agility and strength than she would have expected from his appearance. He extended a well manicured hand. "Welcome Ms. Banks," he said in his attractive cultured voice. "I am delighted that you could make it with such ridiculously short notice. I really appreciate that. And I see punctuality is one of your virtues. The radio-controlled clock in my office chimed one at the exact moment you pressed the button downstairs." Jennie smiled faintly. "It was touch and go Mr. Sanders, touch and go. And I am grateful that you have not discarded my application despite me not showing up." She studied her potential boss. At this close range she could see that the suit was tailor made and of exquisite quality. His shirt looked tailor made too and his tie was nice. Not an old school tie, but very good taste. She also studied the man's face. His short hair was mostly grey except at the temples where it had turned almost completely white. The fragile look was only from a distance. He looked sinewy and tough at close quarters. She revised her guess of his age to late thirties. The lines of his face told Jennie that worries were not unknown to him, but his eyes - greyish blue and remarkably clear - were calm and determined. They were also friendly and strangely attractive. They held hers in a gentle lock. George Sanders studied the girl as carefully as she was studying him. There had been scores of applicants and several he was sure could have managed fine, but the application from Jennifer Banks had captivated him. It was very well written and she presented herself well too - her lack of experience not withstanding. She was honest about that, and George liked honesty. But the girl had also enclosed a photograph and that had sealed her fate. Her face was an almost exact replica of Lillian, the soon to be very ex-Mrs. Sanders, when young - down to the freckles across her nose and her green eyes. Her hair was even lusher than Lillian's had been at that age. Sure, little Ms. Banks' thick red locks could have done with a wash, but George knew that she wouldn't have had the time. 17 years with Lillian had taught him that. Her breasts were clearly larger than Lillian's - much larger; something the photograph hadn't shown. On a good day she would be a stunner. Today wasn't one - her face was slightly puffy now and she had applied some rather crude make-up in places. George smiled inwardly. OK, so the child had her period and tried to cover temporary acne. Poor thing. They suddenly both realized that their hands were still locked in a firm clasp. Jennie felt embarrassed and started blushing, but Mr. Sanders just smiled, gave her hand a final light squeeze and let go. A paternal hand on her shoulder directed her towards his office. "This way, Ms. Banks, if you please." The decor of the premises was like that of most high tech companies - nice, but bland, but Mr. Sander's office was furnished in very good taste. He guided her to a chair in front of an ancient desk and went to the opposite side. He beckoned her to sit down and she noticed he remained standing until she was seated. 'Full points for manners so far,' Jennie thought. She felt safe and comfortable in his company. And his faint smell of Bay Rum and Harris Tweed which would indicate a man in his late seventies, not his late thirties, somehow underlined the impression of respectability and trustworthiness. And yet something seemed odd. The heavy glass out to the reception area was no doubt an excellent sound insulator, but inside the premises she had expected the sounds of a high tech office. Yet apart from she faint humming of a desktop computer, the entire place was eerily silent. That the front office was vacant did not surprise her. That was after all the position they had advertised. But it seemed strange there was no one else around at all. That the owner himself should be answering the door and interviewing secretarial staff was also unusual. Almost like he had read her mind he went straight to business. "Ms. Banks, you may wonder why we are here alone. To be completely honest - and honesty is the foundation for everything I do - 'Sanders IT Security' is at present a one man operation." This unusual opening could have been disconcerting, but Jennie took Mr. Sanders at face value. She had however noticed a fleeting pained expression on his face when he mentioned honesty. Something must have happened. She also noticed that although there were no rings on his fingers, his left ring finger looked like he had worn a fairly broad ring until recently. Deciding that shyness and modesty would get her nowhere, she went for broke. "I very much hope there will be twice as many working in the company when this interview is over." The smile she got for that made her feel all warm and fuzzy inside. "I very much hope so too Ms. Banks", he replied. "Very much so. But perhaps we should talk a little about you and what the job involves first..." She accepted the gentle rebuke with a smile and told him what there was to tell - about her school and her training as secretary and receptionist at a reputable establishment. And how the economic slump at the end of her training had meant a severe downturn in the job-market. People far more experienced than she had been willing to work at junior wages and in consequence she had had years of, at best, part time casual jobs and long periods of unemployment. But she had her school papers and a couple of references and she had dutifully enclosed copies of them. "Yes, I noticed," Mr. Sanders said. "Your employers seem to like you. Not your fault that they have been unable to keep you on. Perhaps I should tell you what this job at Sanders IT Security would involve." In reality she would be acting as both secretary and receptionist - and to some extent, business manager. "Not that there is so much of either of those functions yet, but we're rebuilding," George said. He explained that that he had been away from the business for personal reasons for an extended period of time during which his second in command had stripped the company of staff, customers and assets and set up shop himself. The task at hand was to rebuild. From scratch. George had always been involved in the day to day work as the most senior specialist and he was perfectly able to start over. Alarm bells were ringing in Jennie's head. "I hope you don't mind me asking point blank, Mr. Sanders, but I have had one or two bad experiences in the past in regards to my pay..." Jennie started. He got the drift at once. "Oh, have no fear, Ms. Banks. My former right hand man may have stripped the company of assets. And my soon to be ex-wife will do her best to strip me personally of those assets she knows of. But that does not in any way leave me penniless. Your salary is guaranteed. If you wish I can pay a lump sum into a holding account in your own bank and have them release it to you on a weekly basis. It will make your tax accounts more complicated, but then - that's your work area anyway." Jennie was taken aback by that. She had to be careful about ensuring she got paid. On the other hand, this was her best shot at a job for a long time and she was not going to blow it by being suspicious. Her recovery was good: "That won't be necessary Mr. Sanders. I just wanted to be sure my pay is not dependent on me generating business in an area I don't really know." He smiled and the warm fuzzy feeling returned. "Have no fear," he said again. "I will take care of the IT-security. You, essentially, have to take care of me. And help me rebuild." "I'd love to," Jennie said. Possibly sounding much too keen and much too personal. But this seemed like a fantastic chance and she had briefly envisaged more than one way of 'taking care' of Mr. Sanders. "Excellent," he said. "I hoped you would be the right person. Now, your pay. What level of pay are you expecting?" Jennie was a little thrown by that question. The man knew she had never had a permanent job. Anything above the national minimal wage would be an improvement. "I am not sure," she managed. "What level did you have in mind?" "Oh, I was thinking of starting you on £26.000 a year - £500 a week; a nice round figure," he said nonchalantly. "Plus a pension fund contribution of course. Will you accept that?" Jennie was completely stunned. This was nearly 3 times the minimal wage for someone like her. Even when she turned 22 soon, it would still be more than double up. Her honesty got the better of her "Mr. Sanders! Why would you pay someone with next to no experience that much money?" she blurted out. Her openness touched him and he repaid her in kind. "I tell you why. What I am about to embark on is going to be difficult. Very difficult. You may say I am driven; I actually don't have to do it to make a living but I want my life back. I need someone I can rely on completely, someone who will be 100% loyal to me. I am sure you will give me satisfaction and I want to ensure that you cannot be lured away by a better offer. And you will know things no-one else must know." He was emanating power and determination. Jennie felt attracted, almost mesmerised. For a fleeting moment she had associated 'giving satisfaction' with something quite unprofessional. The thought did not turn her off, yet the last statement had her worried again and it reflected in her facial expression. Mr. Sanders noticed and hastened to continue: "I am not asking you to do anything that is unethical much less anything illegal. Ever. But if you can leave customers with the impression - without saying anything that is untrue, mind - that the company is bigger than it actually is then we may grow faster." "How so?" Jennie asked - puzzled, but not adverse to a challenge. "Essentially by telling any customer who calls and asks for former staff that the person in question is unavailable for some reason, but that senior staff will deal with their issues personally. Then I will flatter them with senior attention, asses the situation and hire the people we need as we go along." It was Jennie's turn to smile - and George's heart melted. 'Damn she looks like Lillian at 21', he thought. "You are right, that's not exactly deceitful. I can do that," she said. "Do we have an agreement then?" he asked "I am not in a position to refuse, Mr. Sanders, "Jennie said. "You are much too generous and I am looking forward to working for you." "Excellent," he said again. "Now, when can you start?" "I am currently unemployed - I can start this very moment," Jennie said. Despite herself, the eagerness had crept back into her voice. 'No matter - he has already hired me,' she thought. He smiled at her. "Well, as you may have noticed mine is the only functional office. I have ordered a lot of equipment that should arrive during the day tomorrow. I suggest you start here on Thursday morning at 9 and spend the day helping me setting up furniture and equipment. Wear something that won't hurt from physical labour. We will be unpacking a lot of stuff." "Not a problem," Jennie replied. And indeed it wasn't. Most of her clothes were far from suitable for office wear. She would have to do something about that, and do it quick. The first pay check would be welcome. Again George could more or less read her mind. Her fleeting glance at her skirt was not lost on him. The child had been underemployed for a long time and sure to be strained financially. He decided to tie her even closer. Buying her loyalty perhaps? He didn't like to think of it that way. Showing her how generous he could be, then? Much better. He cleared his throat. "That's for unpacking and setting things up, you understand. I expect a certain level of dress when we are seeing clients on the premises. You are the face of the company. I don't want to sound offensive Ms. Banks, but I understand completely if you feel your wardrobe may need a boost after a period of irregular earnings." 'You can say that again,' Jennie thought. She decided to remain silent, but tried to make her face look like an 'and?' query. She was successful. "And I would like to contribute to that. It is only fair," he said. To Jennie's amazement, he got an envelope our of a drawer and counted out 500 pounds in 50 pound notes, which he handed her. "This is for various work-related expenses," he said. "I do not need receipts and the tax man will not be told." "Thank you Mr. Sanders!" Jennie managed. "They will come to good use." "Now," he continued, "I need you to sign an employment contract with me. It contains a fairly strongly worded confidentiality clause. You ought to read it carefully before signing." He turned to his PC and called up a document. "You told me this morning you had moved. Can I have your new address?" he asked "Certainly," Jennie said and mentioned it. He typed it into the document and a few moments later two copies of the agreement came out of a hitherto silent printer. He signed both copies with a fountain pen and then handed them to her along with the pen. "Read it carefully and sign one copy. The other you may keep for your own records." Willing to sign anything to get the job, but deciding it would be more professional to read the document, Jennie did so. It wasn't overly long or complicated, but the confidentiality clause was certainly iron clad. Once more Jennie wondered exactly what had happened to Mr. Sanders. She was determined to earn his confidence and find out. She noticed fleetingly that her initial pay was listed as £26.000 p.a. and she had not seen him type on that page. In fact he had only changed her address - everything else was typed in advance. He seemed strangely keen to hire her over all other applicants. She was fleetingly worried - spooked even. 'Don't look a gift-horse in the mouth', she chided herself. 'Even if it only lasts a couple of weeks, the pay is sensational.' She finished reading and signed it without any further qualms. She handed the original and the fountain pen back and put her own copy in her hand bag, "Don't you want me to come tomorrow? I am perfectly willing to do so," she offered bravely - despite the intense pain from her abdomen. "No, that's OK," he replied. "Not much is happening tomorrow - the phones won't even be reconnected yet." He looked straight at her. "Besides, you will feel much better on Thursday." Jennie was gob-smacked. "What, I mean, how, how did you know?" she faltered. His smile was enchanting. "I was married for 15 years. And I grew up with 3 older sisters and a mother. I know bad period pain when I see it. Don't ever worry about taking a day or two off on that account when working for me. OK?" Jennie could only nod. He escorted her to the door and operated the security system. "I will have a set of keys and access devices ready for you on Thursday Ms. Banks. Thank you for accepting the position; I look forward to seeing you again." The hand-shake was firm and warm. Jennie felt drawn to this man and didn't want to let go, but did, of course. "Likewise, Mr. Sanders," she said. "See you Thursday morning." Chapter 2 The adrenalin rush from finally getting a proper, well-paid job - and such a fascinating employer too - lasted all the way home and made the journey less painful. But soon after she got back the pain and nausea returned and she decided to have a rest. She had had no lunch and ought to be hungry, but the thought of food revolted her insides. She had been plagued this way exactly every 28 days since just before turning 13. She nearly failed one of her O-level exams - the one bad grade on otherwise excellent school papers - due to this affliction and she had lost one job, possibly two, on account of being sick from her period. Her mother had told her it was likely to get better once she had her first baby, but since babies seemed a very far fetched proposition right now that promise didn't help her much. At least the suffering was brief. That is possibly what made it so intense, but Mr. Sanders had been right. In two days she would not only be feeling much better, it would be completely over. She got up again in the late afternoon and was busy going through her wardrobe when her mother got home. "Mum! I got a job. A real job!" she yelled. "Congratulations Jen," her mother said, coming up the stairs to Jennie. "That's nice. It is close by?" "Not really," Jennie admitted. "It is close to the city, so there's a bit of a commute." "Never mind," her mother replied. "Most people commute. What's the job?" "Secretary slash receptionist in a high tech firm," Jennie replied. "Large place?" her mother inquired. "No," Jennie laughed. "It used to be. But they are still in their large premises and now they are rebuilding." She somehow didn't feel like telling her mother she was the only employee at the moment. Her mother still looked sceptical. "That could be a worry. Are you sure you will ever see your pay?" "Positive," Jennie replied. "It is personally owned by the Director and I believe he must be independently wealthy. He is also very generous. As the receptionist and his personal secretary I am supposed to dress up. I was given a cash allowance to jazz up my wardrobe a bit!" "That is very generous," her mother said. "How much?" "Enough to pay back the £150 you lent me and still have a shopping spree tomorrow," Jennie said excitedly. "He gave me £500!!" "Lord!" her mother said, and she was for once not being pious. "That is a lot of money Jen. He must have great expectations from you." She folded the three £50 notes Jennie handed her and put them in a pocket. "I believe he does," Jennie said with satisfaction. "I also had to sign a confidentiality clause a mile long. I think he has been through a rough patch with dishonest people. He implied he wanted someone new that he could rely on - and was willing to ensure I wouldn't look elsewhere for better pay." "Well, that's fair enough. What does he intend to pay you?" her mother asked "£500 a week," Jennie replied. "That's £400 after tax!" "Jesus!" her mother exclaimed, for the second time forgetting all about not taking the Lord's name in vain. "That's more than your father makes!" Jennie didn't reply to that. She had suspected as much and worried about his reaction to that. Besides, she resented having her mother's husband referred to as 'her father'. He was not. He had married her mother when Jennie was three or four and even forced her to take his surname too. Her own father she could not remember - he had been cut out of her life completely, yet Jennie saw him every time she looked herself in the mirror. Her red hair, her emerald green eyes, her freckled skin - and her beauty - were the lasting gifts of one Paddy O'Brien who had bowled over her mother some 23 years ago but had been frozen out shortly after Jennie was born by her mother's family and church connections who could not tolerate his easygoing nature. Jennie knew very little about her father; he was never spoken of and she only knew of his existence due to an aunt getting 'tired and emotional' one night and talking about him to Jennie's mother without either of them realising that Jennie was listening. Her mother, slightly hard of hearing, failed to notice Jennie's silence and carried on. "Did you say you are shopping for clothes tomorrow?" she asked. "Aren't you going to work?" "That's just it," Jennie replied. "I don't start until Thursday. A lot of stuff is being delivered tomorrow so there isn't much to do until Thursday. Besides Mr. Sanders noticed I had bad period pain and told me to get better first." Her mother was impressed. "Well, that's a nice change from past experience. He sounds like a real gentleman!" "I believe he is," Jennie said happily and continued sorting her clothes. Her happiness lasted until about 10 minutes after her stepfather came home. She could hear her mother loudly relay the story of the new job downstairs and moments later Mr. Banks - a puffy eyed little rat of a man - was at her door. "Hand over!" he said with a greedy look on his face. "What do you mean?" Jennie asked - genuinely bewildered. "Don't be smart with me!" he said in a menacing voice. "The deal was clear. In the goodness of our hearts we took you back in. In return you hand over half of what you earn." Jennie got a sinking feeling. He couldn't be doing this! "This was not pay!" she argued. "It was an allowance so I can buy the clothes I need to have for this job! I've already given Mum the £150 she lent me. If you take £250 I will only have £100 left. That is nowhere near enough for the clothes I need to buy!" "Rubbish. £100 is plenty. No daughter of mine should be decked out like a tart!" Mr. Banks declared. 'I am not a daughter of yours!' Jennie thought, but didn't say anything. Still she looked obstinate and Mr. Banks upped the ante. "Pay up now, or leave the house this instant!" he barked. Defeated Jennie took five 50£ notes out of her purse and handed them to her stepfather without a word. "See, that wasn't so hard, was it?" he said with a smirk and patted her side making sure his thumb grazed Jennie's achingly tender breast. Jennie felt like slapping him. She felt like yelling out to her mother that the sleazebag she had married was no better than a child-molester and had been ogling her and copping feels constantly since before Jennie even had any breasts to fondle. But she decided to bide her time. Revenge is a dish best served cold, she remembered. Mr. Banks would be made to pay - she swore he would. But now was not the time. She didn't let him get away with this latest outrage though. Her hand closed over his wrist like a vice and bent his lower arm outwards, a move she had learned in self-defence classes in school and designed to cause maximum pain. Just before causing actual damage, she let go. Rubbing his arm, Mr. Banks announced "There will be tea in five minutes. Make yourself decent and come down!" "Thanks, but no thanks," Jennie said. "I have my period and I'm too nauseous to eat anything." Mr. Banks, squeamish about bodily functions, winced. "I don't want to hear about such things in my house!" he barked. Jennie just shrugged and closed the door behind him. She wished she could lock it, but the lock had mysteriously been disabled about the time she started sprouting breasts. 'For the sake of morals' her stepfather had declared when she worked up the courage to inquire about it. Later in the evening her mother brought her a cup of tea. "Thanks," Jennie said. Deciding to try to save tomorrow's shopping expedition, she added "The man you're married to took £250 off of me and now I cannot buy the clothes I need for work. Is there any chance I could borrow those £150 again?" "I am sorry dear," her mother said unable to look her daughter in the eye. "But your father forbade it. I have already given him the money. He is under some financial strain at the moment..." she trailed off. "He is not my father! And I can't believe he would do this to me!" Jennie said. "Besides being cruel, it is plain stupid too. If I lose my job over not having the right clothes, he can't keep milking me for money week after week." "Of course he is your father!" her mother exclaimed outraged. "And you are being grossly unfair to him. He has always done what he thought was best for you!" "Rubbish!" Jennifer snapped. "He'll be taking £200 a week and that is way more than I paid for my bed-sitter. At that rate I could live in a B&B!" 'And not be ogled and fondled by the landlord,' Jennie thought but didn't say so. Downstairs Mr. Banks was worried about the same thing. The £400 today was a god-send; it would clear some of his most pressing gambling debt - the part that was getting nasty - but he would need the girl's money for a long time to pay off the rest. He supposed he would have to behave for a while so she didn't leave. But Jennie was like a drug to him. He wasn't getting any from her mother and for years he had dreamt about getting into Jennie's pants. He was quite certain she had left home at 18 to be rid of his attentions and his reluctance to take her back in last week had only been for show - inwardly he was delighted to have her dependent of him again and fantasised about forcing her to sex in return for being allowed to stay. But instead the tables had now been turned money-wise and it was him that was dependent of her. He felt impotent and took it out on his wife when she tried to plead her daughter's case. "The ungrateful slut was perfectly willing to sponge off on us when her loose living had left her destitute!" he raved. "She willingly agreed to the perfectly reasonable arrangement that she would pay us half her earnings. Easy enough when you earn nothing! The moment she finally starts making something she tries to back out of the arrangement!" "But Harold, it is such a lot of money, and if we press her too hard she might leave!" his wife said. "Ha! Where would she go? There is no guarantee this fairy-land job will last. It would be unwise of her to burn her bridges!" he shot back - although he knew his wife was right. Jennie's mother tried one more time. "But that's just it. She needs a certain level of dress to have that kind of job. Couldn't we at least let her borrow that £150 again?" "Out of the question Vera!" he barked. "She doesn't need hundreds of pounds worth of clothes to work as a receptionist. That's my final word on the matter!" No-one in the Banks household slept well that night. The next morning Jennie was able to keep down her breakfast as expected, even though she was still in some pain. She had decided that her most urgent need clothes-wise was a new skirt, or two with a bit of luck, and she set out to try and find something she could afford. She was successful in the sense that she found something acceptable, but she worried that Mr. Sanders would feel cheated. On that account she couldn't have been more wrong, but she didn't know that. In the afternoon she laundered, pressed and readied what she had of suitable office wear. It wasn't too bad - but she would certainly have to shop again as soon as her first pay check came in. She avoided her parents that evening, pleading discomfort even though her period had completely ended by then. She discovered that her desk chair would fit snugly under the door handle, effectively working as a lock. Why she had never worked that out previously she couldn't fathom - it came as a brain storm - but finally she could ensure her privacy. In her bed-sitter she had always slept in the nude and now she could resume that habit. Her wardrobe door had a full length mirror on the inside - something she was sure her stepfather didn't know about, or it would have been removed 'for the sake of morals' - and she studied her naked body critically. She had to admit it wasn't too bad - she had an hour-glass figure. Her breasts - mentally she called them 'D', but she knew full well that the last couple of bras were 'E' cups - didn't sag one bit and sat high and proud over her flat stomach. She had what was crudely known as 'child-bearing hips' and her pubic hair - as red and lush as that on her head - was neatly trimmed. "Let's find someone who will appreciate the sight and I'm out of here," she muttered to herself. "Perhaps Mr. Sanders is ready for the second Mrs. Sanders. A girl could do worse." She was still awake when she heard her parents go to bed. Her mother, slightly deaf and a heavy sleeper, would be out of it in minutes. She decided to torment her stepfather and masturbated noisily, moaning and groaning until she came with a lusty cry. She had the satisfaction of seeing the door handle move and thought she heard a low frustrated noise when its progress was blocked by the chair. "Serves you right you disgusting little man," she chuckled under her breath - and worked up another noisy orgasm before rolling over to sleep. Mr. Banks, furious that he couldn't sneak a peek at his step-daughter and sporting a, for him, impressive erection (all of five inches), went to the bathroom and masturbated to take off the pressure. It didn't take long before he emptied his prostate in the toilet with two joyless spurts before going back to bed. Chapter 3 Thursday morning Jennie must have changed her mind about clothes at least a dozen times. Mr. Sanders had told her to wear 'something that won't hurt from physical labour' so sneakers and a pair of stretch jeans seemed like a good idea for the lower half of her body. But what to wear on the top? The most practical choice would be a sports bra and a tee-shirt. Boring! In the end frivolity won out and she encased her boobs in a gorgeous lacy bra and put on a shirt that would allow plenty of visual access to her cleavage if she unbuttoned the top buttons. 'I wonder what Mr. Savile Row Suit will make of this,' she thought with a chuckle. The shirt was buttoned up for breakfast though, and she looked demure enough. "I thought you said you need to dress up for this job," her stepfather sneered. "Yes I do," Jennie replied, "but today there are no customers on the premises. Everyone is moving furniture and equipment around and I was urged to wear something practical." That 'everyone' was Mr. Sanders and herself was none of her parent's business; she had told the exact truth. Mr. Sanders had asked her to come at 9. Presumably that was the ordinary start of business and presumably she would have to be there earlier in the future to open up and get things ready, but since she didn't have any keys or access cards yet she had an easy start. She wanted to get there in good time though and went to her local train station early. She caught a fast connection and ended up having time to spare. 'Never mind,' she thought, 'I should get to know the area anyway.' While walking up the stairs from the tube station, she noticed a delicious firm male bottom clad in a pair of designer jeans a couple of steps up from her. The shapely legs ended in what looked like a pair of hand-made Italian shoes. The man wore a genuine bomber jacket of well-worn leather and when she looked up she noticed he had nicely cut short hair that was silver-grey. 'Yummy', Jennie thought. Just then the man reached the top of the stairs and turned so Jennie got to see his profile. To her shock, it was Mr. Sanders! 'That's it!' Jennie decided as she felt herself flooding her panty liner. 'I want this man. And I'm going to make damn sure he wants me too!' She criss-crossed the area and found out where restaurants, pubs and cafes were located and bought milk and biscuits for coffee before returning to the office block to press the button at 9 AM sharp. She was buzzed in and on the way up the lift she undid the top two buttons of her shirt. As an afterthought, she undid the third as well, put on her brightest smile and walked over to the heavy glass door. George Sanders was busy opening the door and only looked up when Jennie was half way inside. He meant to smile and welcome her, but his gaze never got further than her cleavage and his intended friendly smile ended up looking more like a demented drool. In record time he felt his jeans getting very constricted and his words of welcome sounded like a croak. 'Bulls-eye!' Jennie thought, noticing the bulge - gratifyingly big too; 'The man must be well equipped,' she thought. "Good morning Mr. Sanders", she chirped. "It's a fine day for a bit of heavy work-out, don't you think?" That set off an image in George's mind that in turn made his straining dick try to rip open his jeans. "Indeed, Ms. Banks," he managed. "Indeed." Jennie walked by so closely that her breast touched George's arm. She toyed with the idea of letting her hand run over his crotch but decided that was possibly a wee bit too forward - for now anyway, but the quiet groan from the contact with her barely covered boob was not lost on her. 'Come on, Big Boy!' she thought. 'You can have me now if you want to, or you can wait - but get me you will!' George - starved of sex for several years, first due to his wife's infidelities and next due to her illness - very nearly lost it completely. While Jennie put the milk away in the fridge in the small kitchen and worked out how to run the coffee brewer, he excused himself and for the first time in his professional life went to masturbate in the bathroom. For the second time in less than twelve hours, Jennie was the indirect cause of a massive ejaculation. There were many differences, though. Not only - although perhaps most immediately noticeable - several inches in length and girth. But first and last there would have been a huge difference in Jennie's attitude to the two events, had she known. She didn't. Not quite. But she got a hunch. Despite taking time to recover and splashing cold water on his face, there was something about George that made Jennie suspect what he'd been up to. 'Up to!' she thought with a naughty chuckle. 'I'll get you up again, don't you worry.' And she did. During the morning they were unpacking box after box of servers and other IT-equipment. Jennie made sure to lean over the boxes every time there was a chance George would be looking. And George looked. Did he ever! He was in a constant state of arousal all morning. When they were positioning equipment in the racks, she made sure to rub her breasts or her bum against him when at all possible without being too obvious. In the end he had to invent some task he needed to attend to in his office before going out to lunch in order for his straining dick to go down again. It worked, and to his relief - mixed with some regret, Jennie demurely did up her shirt buttons before they went out to have a sandwich at one of the local eateries. But she bought a banana 'for dessert' and as soon as they were back at the premises, not only was her shirt mysteriously open at the top again, she devoured the banana in a way that made George's dick actually leak so much his jeans darkened slightly. Mid-afternoon the buzzer sounded and Jennie for the first time fulfilled her role as receptionist. It was a delivery man with yet more equipment. A distracted but relieved George saw Jennie button up her shirt. "Don't worry Mr. Sanders," she said with a seductive smile. "They are for your eyes only!" Before George could make a suitable, or indeed any, reply to that, Jennie went to brew more coffee and presently the delivery man was there. It was a young cockney called Jeff who worked for the firm of brokers that had managed to find most of the equipment George needed. "'Ello again and good afternoon Mr. Sanders," Jeff said politely. "'Ere's another pile of boxes for you - network stuff, mainly. The boss 'ad all kinds of trouble with this lot. Wanted to send you some newer versions of the daughter boards 'e did, but I told 'im you were ever so partic'lar about exact models." George smiled. He had in fact had to return some stuff for the servers yesterday because they were what the broker called 'modern equivalents'. "That's right Jeff," George said. "It has to be exactly the same models. We're talking disaster recovery here - I must have everything identical to make sure it works." "That's what I told 'im, but he wouldn't see it!" Jeff replied. "So I took the liberty of checking with one of our competitors and 'e 'ad the older model RAID controller we talked about yesterday. Wouldn't give no warranty, but 'e sold me 3 for the price of 2 so you 'ave a spare. Apologized 'e 'adn't 'ad time to upgrade the firmware, 'e did, but I told 'im not to sweat. They are devilishly difficult to downgrade. The batteries are dead of course, but they are ordinary NiCads so I got some from Radio Shack and soldered them on to the battery pack." George looked sharply at Jeff. "Won't your boss be upset that you set up on your own like that?" "'E might be," Jeff said nonchalantly, "but seeing as 'e's 'ad to let me go end of business today, there ain't much 'e can do about, is there?" "True," George conceded. "Anyway, how come you know about downgrading firmware and such like?" "Easy," Jeff said with a grin. "I learnt this stuff the place where I did me training. Did a lot of disaster recovery we did. The last thing you want to struggle with at two in the morning is wrong firmware." George nodded. The chap had brains. "So you are unemployed when you leave this afternoon?" George asked casually. "Yup, back to the dole queue it seems," Jeff said with a shrug. "Do you want to work for me?" George asked. "Sure!" Jeff said startled. "I got bills to pay." "Ms. Banks!" George called. When Jennie entered he said "Kindly get young Jeff's details and employ him as Operations Manager at £21.000 a year. He should sign a confidentiality clause similar to yours. Base his contract on your own. You can use my PC until we get yours up and running." Jeff's jaw had dropped at his good fortune. When he turned to look at the secretary thus summonsed, his jaw dropped even further. George thought he was struck by Jennie's good looks and whispered "Manners, my boy, manners!" "S-sorry," Jeff stuttered. "For a moment I thought I was seeing things. Ms. Banks is the absolute spitting image of me girlfriend but a bit older - Cathy's 18. Only she has no older siblings that I know of." He shook his head and followed George and Jennie into George's office. A few minutes later Jennie was acting as secretary for the first time, making an employment contract for Jeff after getting his details. She printed it out in duplicate and took them to George to sign. She then returned and handed the paperwork to Jeff. "Here you are Mr. Heeley," she said. "Sign one and keep the other for your records. Please read it carefully," she added. "There is a strongly worded confidentiality clause. It would be unwise to disregard it." "NO worries," Jeff said. "At that pay I am more than 'appy to safe guard Mr. Sander's secrets. But please call me Jeff." "Happily," Jennie said holding out her hand. "I'm Jennie." Jeff took the proffered hand and scrutinized its owner closely. "Well, I'll be damned Jennie - you so look like me girlfriend..." he trailed off and shook his head as if to dispel the image. Jennie smiled. She had been around long enough to know a pick-up line when she heard one and that was not the case now. She was suddenly struck by inspiration. "Would your girlfriend's family name be O'Brien by any chance?" "Why yes, Cathy's old man's called Paddy O'Brien!" Jeff exclaimed. "Are you related?" "You can say that," Jennie said drily. "I have reason to believe Paddy O'Brien is my father, so your Cathy must be my half-sister." Outwardly she was calm, but you could have knocked her over with a feather. Her head was spinning. The implications overwhelmed her - she had found her father again and she had siblings! "Never!" Jeff exclaimed again. "Seems Paddy's been around a bit." "Yes and no," Jennie said coming back to the present. "My mother's family and connections froze him out when I was tiny. My mother married someone else when I was about four and my stepfather forced me to have his name. I didn't even know about my real father until I was a teenager and I only found out by accident - they didn't want me to know. I haven’t seen him since I was a toddler." The bitterness in Jennie's voice wasn't lost on Jeff. "You don't get on with your stepfather?" "No, he's a creep," Jennie replied. "He's been lusting after me for years." "''Orny old goat!" Jeff said with disgust. Despite herself Jennie chuckled. Her mood lifted - Jeff was a liberating factor. Before she could ask him any of her burning questions about her father, half-sister and possible other family she noticed that Mr. Sanders had returned. "I know it is tough on your first day at work," he started, "but would you be able to stay a little longer today? I would very much like to get everything connected up tonight so we can start loading software and configurations tomorrow. It will take a long time for the RAID sets to initialize so I'd like that to run over night. Loading primary data will take days. It would be great to start that Friday and let it run all weekend." "Not a problem," Jeff said. "Cathy will kill me if I'm 'ome late tomorrow - I'm 'aving tea at 'er place. But tonight is 'opefully OK. I'll just give 'er a call." He flipped his cell-phone open and made the call while walking towards the wardrobe for privacy. "Ms. Banks?" George inquired as he turned to Jennie. "I'm happy to stay too Mr. Sanders," Jennie replied. "I'll just text Mum to say I won't be home for tea." George' inquiring gaze prompted Jennie to continue somewhat downcast. "I am living with my parents again - I couldn't afford my own place any longer." "Oh, I see," he said. "That sounds a little awkward." She nodded agreement but shrugged - not wanting to burden him with her personal problems. He looked deep in though for a moment and she worried that she had burdened him, but he eventually just smiled. "Speaking of tea; would you arrange for some food for us all?" he asked. "Like some take-away?" Jennie asked. She had noticed several potential suppliers this morning. George nodded. Jeff was just returning and Jennie asked "Does everyone like Indian?" There were affirmative noises from both men and Jennie set out to get provisions. "I am sorry, but I couldn't help overhear your conversation in my office before," George said when he was alone with Jeff. "It seems Ms. Banks - Jennie - is related to your girlfriend?" "I think that is likely," Jeff replied. "They look so alike and Jennie says 'er real father was called Paddy O'Brien just like Cathy's - that is too much of a coincidence if you ask me!" "Have you got a picture of your young lady with you?" George asked. He was vaguely aware that his curiosity would have been considered 'bad form' in the circles he grew up in, yet he wanted to know as much about Jennie as possible. And Jeff's world was different from George's. "I sure do!" he said happily and retrieved a slightly greasy snapshot from his wallet. George studied the picture for a fraction of a second. "Yes, that is definitive. If anyone had said this was Jennie a few years ago I would have believed it without question." Chapter 4 They carried on unpacking equipment and mounting it. George was impressed with Jeff's skill. At £21.000 he was a steal. If he turned out to be anywhere near as good at running things as setting them up George would have to up his pay quickly. By the time Jennie was back with the Indian take-away, Jeff was busy getting the main storage systems initialized and configured to the specifications George had handed him. They ate their food and after clearing that up, Jennie started unpacking and setting up desktop PCs for herself, Jeff and readying two more offices. "You can't do much more with them until we have the Image server running," George said. “But at the rate Jeff is working that would be first thing tomorrow morning!" Around half past ten they were ready to leave the machines to themselves for the night. Before heading off, Jeff turned to Jennie. "Do you mind if I take a photo of you on me phone? Cathy won't believe me unless I can show 'er what you look like!" Jennie nodded agreement, smiled at the camera and the deed was done. She saw Jeff out - he still needed access keys - and returned to George's office. George looked up. To his amazement his new secretary was quite openly unbuttoning the top three buttons on her shirt, giving him that mesmerising view to her spectacular breasts that had kept him sexually excited all morning. "I get the feeling I do not have to fear a sexual harassment complaint for admiring your bust," he said with the first sly grin Jennie had seen on her new employer's face. "Not a chance!" Jennie replied. "I like when you look at me. I like what it does to you." George immediately felt his jeans tighten even more. 'What it does to me indeed!' he thought. "But not Jeff?" he asked with a smile. "I didn't know Jeff and had no intention of showing off to a complete stranger," Jennie replied archly. "And now that I know he is dating my little sister, I'd cut his balls of if he checked me out instead of her!" George laughed out loud, as did Jennie. It was like all formal barriers between them had disappeared. Suddenly serious again, George said "Yes, I couldn't help overhearing a bit of the conversation you had with Jeff. It sounds fantastic that you have suddenly found your real father." He took the plunge. "I rather gather you stepfather is not on the list of people you unbutton your shirt for either." "No!" Jennie said vehemently. "He is a creep." "It must be ghastly having to live under his roof again," George said quietly. "It is," Jennie said - and suddenly blurted it all out. "But I had no choice. And he takes half of what I bring home. Even the money you gave me the other day for clothes. And that was after I had paid back money my mother had lent me. There was almost nothing left to buy office clothes for. I felt I was letting you down." George was appalled. He couldn't believe anyone would treat a child - or stepchild - that way. Not having children himself was one of the big sorrows in his life, but Lillian hadn't wanted any as they would 'spoil her figure and ruin her career', whatever that was supposed to be; she hadn't lifted a finger since marrying George. He decided to bring up what he had been thinking of when Jennie first told him she was living with her parents again. "Listen, I don't want to be offensive, but I have a suggestion. In its hey-day the company acquired a penthouse apartment not far from here - it was meant to be used for visiting customers of a certain importance. And, 'eh, other purposes." Jennie got the drift and tried to look prim. But she couldn't hold that for long. "Not my idea, I hasten to add," George said almost defensively before noticing Jennie was teasing. "Anyway, the point is - the apartment is currently unoccupied. I moved in there after my wife and I originally split up, but I am back in my own house. And you are welcome to use it. Jennie smiled. "I don't think I could afford a penthouse business apartment in this area, not even on £500 a week." George smiled back. "You misunderstand me. It would cost you nothing." Jennie felt completely light-headed. Sure, her parents might be offended and to a certain degree she still worried about burning her bridges since there was a risk this wouldn't last, but she felt they were using her and she wanted out at almost any cost. If she presented it like she had to live in the apartment for some work-related reason it would be OK. Not exactly deceitful. She could try that. "Oh thank you!" she said. "Yes please -the sooner the better." "Excellent," he said. "We'll look into that as soon as is practical. I'm sure we can get Jeff to help us move your things. But it is getting rather late - let's talk more about this tomorrow. Can I drive you home?" "I'd love that," Jennie replied. "The tube is not all that nice late a night for a single girl. But won't it be dreadfully out of your way?" "If I said it was on my way, or that I had an errand there anyway you wouldn't believe me and I would be lying. And I never lie," George said. "The dual purpose is to see you home safely and prolong the time I am with you." He locked the door behind them and offered her his arm. His honesty and his tenderness and exquisite manners touched her. Jennie was now not only in lust but seriously falling in love. Weak in the knees she took the proffered arm and let herself be escorted down to underground car-park and got into the soft leather seat of George's Jaguar - he, naturally, held the door for her. Before she could even ask if he needed directions, he typed her parents' address into the GPS and they drove off. Apart from the discreet directions from the navigation system, the car was eerily silent and so were they. The moment felt magical and no words were needed. Since it was so late there was little traffic and the journey ended much too soon. George pulled up at the curb and turned to Jennie. "Well, here we are. I - I can't say how happy I am that I found you," he blurted out. It was not what he'd intended to say, but there was no point in trying to retract it. "Me too! But why me?" Jennie asked. "The combination of your letter and the photograph made me guess you'd be just the person for the job," George said. "Now I am starting to realise how lucky a guess that was." He leant over to give her a quick peck on the cheek, but she turned her head so he ended up kissing her fully on the lips. She put one hand behind his head to pull him closer while her other hand found his and guided it to her breast. Once 'parked' there he almost automatically started to caress it through the thin fabric of her bra. Her hand sought out his stiffening dick and rubbed it through the jeans while her tongue separated his lips and darted into his mouth. He squeezed her breast and heard her moan into his mouth. He felt transported almost 20 years back - making out in a car on the way home from a date. They came up for breath and he cleared his throat. "Jennie," he said - and guiltily hastened to add '"I can call you that, can't I?" She smiled sweetly at his nervousness and nodded reassuringly, so he continued. "I'm an old-fashioned kind of man. Until Wednesday next week I am a married man. And while the same can most definitely not be said about my wife's - soon ex-wife's - vows, I have never ever broken my marriage vows." Jennie nodded comprehension. "That's fine George," she replied. "I know you would never go back on a promise. That's one of the attractions. We can wait. I want to be everything you ever wanted. And I can wait for that." George smiled happily. Being called his Christian name by a gorgeous young woman who had just kissed him passionately and brought him to within moments of coming in his pants was, to put it mildly, a nice and very rare occurrence. Her wanting to be 'everything' sounded almost too good to be true. Before he could even ask or wonder, Jennie elaborated. "When I say everything, I mean everything. Your best friend, your lover, the mother of your children, your wife when you're ready to have a real wife. I'm yours." She sent him a smouldering look, gave his dick a final squeeze and got out of the car. "See you at work tomorrow Mr. Sanders," she called loudly for the benefit of parents or neighbours listening. "It was most kind of you to drive me home." George waited until he had seen her enter the front door of her parents' house and then embarked on the long journey home to his own - which suddenly felt very empty. This was completely unexpected. No he never lied. But he hadn't told Jennie either that the original reason to hire her was that she looked like a young version of his wife and that he had been planning somehow - not very strong on the specifics - to find some way of flaunting her off in Lillian's face. But that was completely off the agenda now. Is there such a thing as 'love at first sight'? - can you really go from 'unknown' to 'heart's desire' in just over two days? The answer seemed to be two times 'yes'. That realisation sent him headlong further out the tangent. Two times 'yes'? That sounding like a wedding! She had said she wanted to be his wife when he was ready for a real wife. Ready? Well, seeing his divorce would be final on Wednesday, Thursday looked real good! Chapter 5 Friday morning Jennie's step-father was in a sour mood. "You were home late last night!" he said. "True," Jennie replied. "We had a lot to do - we hired a new Operations Manager yesterday, but Mr. Sanders - the company Director - drove me home personally." "That was kind of him," Jennie's mother chirped in. "I am always worried when you travel alone late at night." "Indeed," said Jennie. "And so was Mr. Sanders - that's why he drove me home." "You stayed long enough in the car before getting out," her stepfather said. He had obviously been sneaking a peek out the window. "Yes, we were talking about today's tasks and the fact that he will need me to come early and stay late quite frequently," Jennie replied calmly. "He was suggesting I might have the use of a company apartment close to the office." "Now that is a superb offer," her mother exclaimed. "That would save you the long commute." "Obviously I wouldn't have you cooking for me and washing clothes," Jennie said warmly. Her mother smiled. "You managed well enough in your bed-sitter before. And it does sound like a splendid chance." Her stepfather was panicking completely, seeing the source of a much needed £200 a week slipping out of his hands. "I will not have it!" he barked. "Our daughter should not be a kept woman Vera!" "What ever do you mean?" his wife said outraged. "I'm sure she will be nothing of the sort. Mr. Sanders seems like a real gentleman of the old school." "Ha! I forbid it. That's my final word on the matter!" her husband declared as Jennie slipped out the door to catch her train. They all converged at 8.30 at the office. Jennie was in business attire as was George. Even Jeff had dressed up a bit. "Cathy made me," he said sheepishly. "Came over this morning and picked out the outfit. Said I couldn't look like a delivery boy now that I was Operations Manager. Tickled pink by that title she was. Said she always knew I'd get on. Mum agreed; Cathy rang 'er at once yesterday when I 'ad phoned 'er. Mum told me to mind me 'aitches too." "Believe me," George replied. "With the quality of the work you put in I would keep you on even if you dressed in nothing but a loin cloth and expressed yourself in grunts. Let's go see how our storage systems are." The two men disappeared into the server room while Jennies got the coffee brewing. George and Jeff seemed satisfied and within an hour they had started retrieving data from an off-site facility. Before lunch the Image server, Directory server and Mail-server were ready. The office PCs could be installed over the network and Jennie and Jeff were added as users. Shortly after the Phone-server came on-line - Sanders IT Security started to function like a real company and Jennie could begin familiarising herself with the systems. When they returned from lunch at a local pub the company Web-server was ready and after a rudimentary modification that disabled all references to former staff, Sanders IT Security once more - if momentarily - had a cyber-presence. "So far so good. We'll leave that hidden until we're ready to strike," George said after having tested it. "Now comes the big job - retrieving the business systems and all of our customers' data." "'Ow come you are able to do all this?" Jeff asked. "I mean the chap dismantled the machines and sold 'em off as scrap like. Why didn't 'e delete them bleedin' off-site backups?" "Because he didn't know about them," George replied. "The code was hidden. He wasn't paying attention to details. He was too busy planning to steal my company and screwing my wife." "Pay-back time!" Jeff said with relish. "'Elping you doin' this feels so good!" While their clothing was conservative and yesterday's overt sexual friction was absent, there was still something almost electrical about the atmosphere between Jennie and George. "I am sorry I can't drive you home tonight," George said when they were getting ready to head out for lunch at the pub, "but I have an important meeting with my solicitor this afternoon." "That's OK George," Jennie replied. "I understand completely. Besides, the sooner you are free of the bitch, the sooner you can be mine!" "Speaking of the bitch," George said with a chuckle, "My ex-wife's solicitor has sent mine her suggestions on how our assets should be split in the divorce. That's what the meeting this afternoon is about. Lillian thinks she controls or knows about all our funds, but she is off the mark by a good factor 20. She has really no idea how profitable the business has been over the years and I have no intention of telling her. I will call the list wildly inaccurate and put up a mock fight, only to let her emerge victorious with a large share of the values she knows about." "Is that legal?" Jennie asked. "Good point Jennie. It is. As long as I tell no lies it is. I will dispute the accuracy but then very reluctantly agree to the summarized assets my ex-wife comes up with. That ought to make her suspicious, but I hope she will have put in some elastic number that I can make a fuss about. Like goodwill in the company, or some inflated value of my house. That should deflect questions, and once I have agreed to pay what she asks for, she can come for no more." "Glorious!" Jennie said. "Will you ever let her know the truth?" "Unlikely," George replied. "I don't intend to keep in touch - there is no room for that cow in my life when all this is over. I'd much rather concentrate on a completely new life." "I'll hold you to that," Jennie said and let her hand run over George's crotch. "New life sounds like a great idea. Several new lives..." Before they could elaborate on this interesting subject, Jeff walked in. "Let's go eat. I'm starving," he said. "Oh, and by the way: I can borrow a small lorry tomorrow morning if you were wanting to move this weekend?" Jennie was hesitant. "I don't know - is the apartment ready?" she asked, directing the question at George. "Absolutely," George replied. "It could do with a bit of cleaning, but otherwise it is perfectly ready." "Tomorrow at 10?" Jeff asked. When George offered to help too, Jennie decided to take the plunge. The timing was good - her step-father usually spent Saturday morning at a betting shop. And it wasn't so very much she had - much of the stuff from her bed-sitter, like kitchen gear and so on, hadn't even been unpacked. But she worried about getting clothes and books packed quickly. "I may not be completely packed by 10," she said -giving voice to that concern. "Not to worry - we'll 'elp you. Besides, I think I know someone who'll insist on lending you an 'and," Jeff said mysteriously. Shortly after lunch George left to see his solicitor. Henry was an old friend - they had been at school together and Henry was about the only male friend George was certain Lillian hadn't fucked. Not that she would have been uninterested or that Henry was unattractive, far from it, but he was totally devoted to his wife and their trio of youngsters. "OK, the strategy is clear,” Henry summed up. "We dispute the overall asset list and make a fuss about the property valuations and the good-will in the company. When shut down by the judge we worry that a future favourable sale of the house or a successful resumption of the company activities will make Lillian come back for more. We then aim to secure a declaration that the settlement is final against agreeing to the stipulated sum. If she agrees, we're all set." George looked grim but determined. "Can we pull that off?" Henry grinned. "I think we can - they will be so surprised that we agree to such a high share that she will take the bait. Hopefully she'll never know what she missed out on." "Well, I'm not telling her," George said. "Jennie wondered, but I'm happy to move on - I don't need to brag." "Jennie?" Henry asked. "Who's Jennie?" "My new, 'eh, secretary, receptionist, business manager - and personal assistant I guess," George replied somewhat evasively. "Since when?" Henry asked in astonishment, "Well, I hired her on Tuesday and she started yesterday," George replied. "And you have told her about this already? Are you mad?" Henry asked - clearly perplexed. "Oh, hey, wait a minute; is she that Lillian look-a-like that you wanted me to do a background check on?" "Yes," George said tersely. "OK - I see," Henry said. "Well, I got the report today," he continued after a significant pause. "She is 'squeaky clean' to quote my investigator. Her step-father is described as 'a nasty piece of work' though. He is in deep financial problems over gambling. But as I said the girl is fine. Dirt poor and very young, but completely honest. Is she pretty?" Silently George showed Henry a print of the picture from Jeff's phone. Henry's eyebrows shut up. "Gosh, she is pretty. Much bigger ..., 'eh I mean, better looking than Lillian. I thought you said you wanted to flaunt her off - that would so work, and now you say you've told her you're moving on?" George just shrugged helplessly. "Well that's good," Henry said. "Not very dignified in the first place." There was a brief silence, and then in his normal tone of voice, Henry spoke again. "Anyway, now that we're through with business - how about coming over to our place tomorrow? There is a village fête and we could do with an extra batsman on our Village XI - friends are permitted. Annie will make a nice hamper and the kids are asking after you." "I'm sorry, I can't," George started. "Oh rubbish, of course you can!" Henry cut him off. "Time you got out amongst people again. No good sitting like a hermit brooding over vile women." "Actually," George replied. "The reason I can't come is that I have to help Jennie move into the company penthouse apartment." Henry raised his eyebrows. "Oh yeah?" "Well, the poor child had to move back in with her parents," George said, "but as your investigator found out her step-father is a 'nasty piece of work' - in fact he is lusting after the kid, so I offered her the apartment instead." Henry laughed. "Well, well, well. Good luck to you both!" "What's that supposed to mean?" George asked peeved. "You did roughly the same thing some 17 years ago - met someone and fell in love in two days," Henry replied with another laugh. "I just hope your luck is better this time," he added more seriously. "I think it is," George said. "I really do." Their eyes met. They were both looking serious now. Henry saw him out. "See you in court on Wednesday. Don't be late and don't be smart. The judge is a man-hater, but she is not stupid. No over-acting, please." "Shall keep that in mind," George replied. "Give Annie and the kids my love - tell them I'm sorry I can't go tomorrow. We must find some other time soon." "Rather!" Henry replied and George walked off towards his car. At the office Jeff and Jennie were preparing to close up for the week. " 'Ave you got any plans for tonight?" Jeff asked innocently. "No, not really," Jennie replied. "Besides, I should get on with packing up my stuff if I really am going to move tomorrow." "Oh, you are," Jeff said, "you certainly are. But as a said, I think you'll find you're going to have 'elp for the job, and if I'm not mistaken you'll also find that you are going somewhere tonight!" "What ever do you mean?" Jennie asked in exactly the same way her mother would have said it. "You just wait 'n see," Jeff replied. "It won't be long." Nor was it. 2 minutes later the buzzer sounded and Jennie answered the intercom "Sanders IT Security - how may I help you?" "I'm here to pick up Jeff," came a distorted female voice. Jennie's heart did double beats. This had to be her sister! With as much calm as she could muster, she pressed the access-button as she replied "Certainly. Cross the lobby and take the lift to the third floor." A few moments later Jennie saw the lift doors open on the other side of the reception area. In awe she watched a slightly younger mirror image of herself walking towards the heavy glass door. As she fumbled to open it, a quiet voice spoke in her ear and nearly made her jump - she hadn't noticed Jeff coming out there too. "See what I said? I told no lies when I said you looked alike!" Cathy was as astonished as Jennie. Lost for words, she followed her instinct and engulfed Jennie in a tight embrace. Without hesitation Jennie reciprocated the embrace and for a long time they just hugged and said nothing. "You have no idea what this means to me," Cathy finally whispered. "I always always always wanted a big sister. I never knew I had one all the time." "Oh, but I do have an idea. A very good idea," Jennie replied. "I always always always wanted siblings. And since learning of my real dad's existence I so wanted to meet him." "Well, you shall," Cathy replied, finally letting go of the embrace and holding Jennie by the shoulders at arms length to study her. "This very night. You are coming home to dinner with us and tomorrow I'll help you and Jeff pack up your stuff and move." "Are you sure?" Jennie asked. "I mean, what will your parents say? Do they know I'm coming?" "I'm positive," Cathy stated. "My friends are always welcome they say - so my sister must be even more so! But no, I haven't told them anything. Frankly I could hardly believe what Jeff told me - I had to see you first!" Jeff whistled innocently and very deliberately studied the light-fixtures in the ceiling. "Oh stop it you!" the sisters exclaimed in unison - pitch and intonation matched to perfection. They stared at each other in amazement and cracked up laughing. They hardly stopped laughing on the way home to Cathy in the overcrowded succession of tube, train and double-decker bus. It was more than an hour's commute and at the end of it Jennie and Cathy knew almost everything there was to know about each other. Well, those parts that were suitable for Jeff to hear. There would be more intimate details later once they had time together alone. As they walked up the final street with its typical south London terraced houses Jennie suddenly started to panic. She was going to see her real dad! How would he react to seeing her out of the blue? And what would his wife - Cathy's mum - think of her? Jennie didn't say anything, but Cathy sensed her sister's nervousness. "Don't worry - they'll love you," she said, took Jennie's hand and almost dragged her up the short path to the front door. Chapter 6 "Mum, Dad, there's someone I want you to meet," Cathy yelled from the small hall once they were in. Her mother - a jolly looking woman in her mid thirties by the very Irish name Molly - came up from the kitchen half a story down towards the garden side of the house. She took one look at the visitor and her welcoming smile turned to astonished shock. "Sweet Mother of God! You must be Jennie!" "You know me?" Jennie asked in amazement. "I have never set eyes on you before. But I can tell who you are just from looking at you. Like Cathy you are the spitting image of my mother in law when she was young. Strong genes they must be. We mothers didn't get a look-in!" "And you know about me?" Jennie asked in wonder. "God love you child, of course I know about you!" Molly replied. "Paddy was always lamenting the one little chick of the brood that he couldn't keep. I don't think there's been a day in his life when he didn't miss you. He's been a good father to the five he has by me that he has," - Cathy nodded vigorously - "but he would so have liked to have had all six he fathered around." "Where is Dad?" Cathy asked. "He is over helping the Andersons - Mr. Anderson has a bad back again - but I'll give him a call right away - it's almost dinner time anyway," Molly said, picked up the phone and dialled a number. "Paddy my love," Molly said, "I know you are being good and neighbourly, but I need you at home - and I need you now. Prepare yourself for a shock." Mr. O'Brien asked something. Molly smiled. "No, nothing serious, well, OK, it is serious actually, but not in a bad way. And very very unexpected," she said and after another short pause closed the call with a cheerful "See you soon love." Paddy O'Brien had just finished helping his elderly neighbours with a blocked sink and was having a cup of tea and a quiet chat in the kitchen. "I wonder what that could be about," he mused after telling the Andersons about the call. "Perhaps that young man of Cathy's has finally proposed now that he has a steady job?" Mrs. Anderson suggested. Paddy had told them about the fine position Jeff had landed. "Perhaps," Paddy said. "About time too. They've been going out for 2 years now and Cathy finishes her training next spring, but I would hardly call it a 'shock' or 'very unexpected'." "Well, go along man!" Mr. Anderson said. "You'll know soon enough." He made moves to get up, but Paddy hastened to stop him. "Don't be daft Pete!" Paddy exclaimed, "I know my way out." "I know you do - OK, I'll stay where I am. Thanks for your help," Mr. Anderson replied and sank back into his chair with a grunt. Mrs. Anderson saw Paddy to the door. "Thanks for helping out. Pete tried to fix it himself and I almost couldn't get him out of the cupboard under the sink what with his back so bad! Anyway, you'd better get moving and find out what Molly was on about." "Not a problem Elsie; I am always happy to help," Paddy said and opened the door, "and as to the big mystery, I'll keep you posted." Back at the O'Brien household the commotion in the hall had summoned the younger children. Obviously Molly and Paddy had taken a longish pause from babies after having Cathy because the next younger children were a pair of twin boys of around 12 or 13 followed by girls of around 10 and 7. The four of them were now staring openly at the unexpected apparition of another big sister. Molly had explained who Jennie was in frank and simple terms suitable for all ages. The boys and Susan, the older of the two young girls, were shy and slightly bashful about it all, but the youngest girl - Nellie - spoke up without any inhibitions. "Are you going to be living with us?" she asked. "No," Jennie smiled, "I have my own place - or rather, tomorrow I'll have my own place. But I will be visiting often!" "Oh," Nellie said. "I hoped you would and then perhaps you could read good night stories to me. Cathy is so busy with kissing Jeff all the time." "Oi you!" Cathy exclaimed, sharing her mock-anger between her youngest sister and her laughing boyfriend. "I would love to read to you every time I visit," Jennie replied - tears now brimming in her eyes as she squatted down in front of the child. "I have never had a little sister to read to before," she added quietly. At that moment the front door opened. 'Neighbours' was perhaps a misnomer. The O'Briens and Andersons small gardens shared one corner fence post but not an actual stretch of fence with a gate so Paddy had to walk down one street, along the main street for a little bit and then up his own. Getting home took him a few minutes, but nevertheless he found his entire family gathered in the narrow hall as he walked in the door. He noticed that Cathy had her back turned to him and was squatting down talking to Nellie. Molly, Susan and the boys were following the exchange. A few steps up the stairs stood Jeff and Cathy. 'Hey, wait a minute! Cathy can't be two places at once!' Paddy thought before the first 'Cathy' turned around to look at him and his world started spinning. But he was an intelligent and sharp-witted man and it only took him a fraction of a second to work out what he was seeing. "Jennie!" he whispered, but then he was completely overtaken by emotion as the young woman called out "Dad?" and came in his arms. Paddy's large frame was visible shaking with his uncontrolled sobbing. "Jennie, Jennie, Jennie" he managed to say a few times as large tears were streaming down his rugged face. "Mummy, why is Daddy crying?" Susan asked very much concerned. "Sometimes you cry when you are very very happy," Molly replied. "And I don't think anything in the world could have made Daddy happier than finally having your big sister in his arms again." "So she really is our big sister," Sean - one of the twins more stated than asked. "Half-sister," his brother corrected. "No Ryan," their mother said firmly. "There is nothing half about Jennie. She is wholly loved and wholly welcome." Then she raised her voice. "Come on everybody; dinner's ready." The dining table in the kitchen was crowded to capacity this evening, but no one seemed to mind; it was family after all. There was gentle 'competition' over who should sit next to Jennie. Other than Paddy, of course. It ended up as a two-sided contest between her oldest and youngest sister with Nellie emerging victorious on the basis that Cathy had been with Jennie all the way home and besides Nellie would be going to bed first. That settled, everyone tucked in. Molly had oven-baked two large sides of salmon and a huge oven tray of diced parsnips, celeriac and other roots. The food was delicious and the talking flowed freely. Jennie had been apprehensive that it would turn into a continuous interrogation of her, but that was never the case. She did have to tell a lot about Sanders IT Security and its owner though, and while Jeff supplemented a lot and caused many laughs - his sunny nature and marked cockney accent making him a great story teller, Jennie sensed a pattern in the questions from her father (her father!!!), Molly and Cathy and at one stage she noticed a knowing glance between them. All too soon it was bed time for Nellie. She was about to pout when she remembered Jennie's offer. "You are going to read to me tonight, aren't you?" she asked. "Of course I am Nellie. I promised and I've been looking forward to it," Jennie replied with genuine warmth. "You get ready for bed and I'll come and read." "Mummy," Susan suddenly said. "If I also get ready for bed, can I sit at the end of Nellie's bed and hear the story too?" Molly hid her smile. Susan volunteering to go to bed at the same time as Nellie was unheard of. "I'm sure you can sweetheart." And so 10 minutes later Jennie found herself in the very pink room her two youngest sisters shared, sitting in the middle of Nellie's bed in an ocean of stuffed toy animals with one small girl in night clothes on each side. She was reading Winnie-the-Pooh and feeling so happy she could barely contain it. After 3 chapters she called it quits and tucked the girls in. Nellie was almost instantly asleep. Jennie turned to Susan whose bed was on the other side of the room. Suddenly two small arms came up, went around Jennie's neck and pulled her down to a wet kiss. "I love you," she said. "I am so glad Cathy found you." Jennie wept. Susan who now knew you could cry from being happy just held Jennie and stroked her hair. "I love you too Susan," Jennie finally whispered. "And I am so utterly happy that Cathy found me too. Good night little sister, sweet dreams." Walking down the stairs Jennie tried to get her emotions in check before joining the rest of the family in the living room but failed and had tears streaming down her cheeks when she entered. She wiped the tears with her hand making some impatient gesture, but Molly just handed her a handkerchief and said "Don't worry Jennie love. There have been many happy tears tonight." With a sniff and a grateful smile, Jennie sat down in the sofa between Molly and Paddy. Cathy and Jeff were sitting very cosily together in a huge ancient armchair; the boys had obviously retreated to their room, presumably to watch TV or play a game on their console. They drank coffee and the conversation turned to more adult themes. "Jeff says Mr. Sanders has offered you the use of a company apartment close to the office," Molly said. "That is very decent of him." "It is," Jennie said. "And yes, he is very decent. He is a lovely man." "It didn't take you long to find out, did it?" Cathy asked. "As I understand it you were only hired on Tuesday - two days before Jeff." "No, it didn't take long," Jennie agreed. 'About 3 minutes to be exact' she thought, amazing herself with the realisation. "His wife left him?" Molly asked. "Yes, I gather she walked off with the man who stole all the company assets," Jennie said. "George, Mr. Sanders I mean, hasn't told me very much. But they are divorcing. Wednesday he should be rid of her." Molly and Paddy exchanged glances again. Her father spoke. "Jeff also suggested you had reasons to want to leave home?" His voice was level, but Jennie sensed a deep undercurrent of anger. "Apart from having had my own place since I was 18 - I was forced to move back home because I hadn't had a steady income for a long time, and it is never nice having to move home again, no, that's right, there was another reason too," Jennie said neutrally. "My step-father and I don't get on." "I know this question sounds weird," Paddy said, "but what's your name, I mean, who is he?" "Technically speaking I am Jennifer Banks," Jennie replied. "Apparently my name was changed when I was 4." "Banks?" Paddy sputtered. "Did she marry Harold Banks? That sanctimonious hypocritical bastard?" "That's the one;" Jennie replied drily, "the description fits perfectly. Since before I hardly had any of these" - she indicated her breasts - "he's been groping me whenever he could." "I knew the creep was a favourite of your mother's sisters - an ass-licking toad hanging around at their church functions," Paddy said. "I didn't know he was a child molester too. What does your mother say?" "Very little," Jennie replied. "She will hear no ill words about him. She defended him when he took almost all the money Mr. Sanders had given me to buy clothes suitable for office wear." Jennie explained the circumstances. Molly and Paddy were effusive in their praise of George's generosity and scathing in their disdain for the treatment of Jennie at home. Her father checked himself. "Listen Jennie," I do not want to place you in a loyalty conflict with your parents," he began, but Jennie stopped him. "That's OK Dad," she said. "You're not. Mostly I get on really well with Mum. I loath my step-father and my only conflicts with Mum are over him," They were all quiet for a while, drinking their coffee and just enjoying being together. But Jennie wanted to know more about her new-found family. "I think it is my turn to ask questions," she said. "I noticed there is quite an age-gap between Cathy and the twins. How come?" Molly smiled. "I was only 17 - nearly 18, but not quite - when we had Cathy. After that I went back to do school, did my training and then worked for a little while before we thought it was time to have the next." "What happened?" Jennie asked. "You happened, essentially," Molly replied and started to tell. "I was living in this same street when your parents had you. I didn't know them then. I may have seen you in a pram, but if so I can't remember you or your mother. Later my parents talked about how your mother - urged by her family they said - had left your father and taken you away, and how sorry they felt for Paddy. You know, the Irish stick together. Anyway, I started to notice him - he was always working so hard and I think he found looking after the house difficult. So one day I asked him if he needed someone to clean and wash and he took me on." "What did grandma and grandpa say?" Cathy asked. "Oh, they were fine with it," Molly replied. "It was just an after-school job. Or so they thought. Grandpa might have teased me about finally learning how to clean up." "He would," Cathy laughed. She loved her grandfather, even if he was a terrible tease. "Anyway. I got to talk to your Dad quite a bit. About everything and anything really, but most often about you Jennie. He was strikingly handsome and I developed quite a 'pash' on him," Molly said. Paddy grunted. "He still is!" Jennie said. She was quite taken with her father's rugged handsomeness. "So he is," Molly laughed; then her face grew more sombre. "But he was so distressed over not having you anymore. He tried everything he would, but he had not been married to your mother and un-wed fathers had next to no rights. One day when I came to clean, he was home. He was sitting in the kitchen with a letter in his hand crying - he had received the final 'no' to access to you and your mother had moved away to an unknown destination. It was the end." "What did you do?" Jennie asked. Molly hesitated. "Listen, I don't know if I should be telling you this - you might get the wrong ideas. Or Cathy and Jeff might." "Oh Mum! Not fair!" Cathy exclaimed. "Out with it." "OK, I'll tell you." Molly blushed. "I essentially said 'There is only one solution - you must have another baby,' and then I started to undress." "MUM!" Cathy nearly choked on her coffee and spluttered. "You DIDN'T!" "Yes she did," Paddy said. "In about a minute she was stark-naked and dragged me off to the bedroom where she undressed me. You must have been made that very afternoon Cathy, or perhaps the next." "What did grandma and grandpa say?" Cathy asked again. "Well, it's not like I told them right away," Molly said, "but grandma noticed I had started to spend a lot of time with Paddy. And I forgot to pretend I had my period, so she worked it out quite quickly and cornered me about it. I made it clear the pregnancy was no accident and they accepted things as they were. I was married at 17 and had Cathy a few weeks before turning 18." "I am so glad you did Molly," Jennie said. "I am glad you have been there loving Dad and giving me siblings." She snuggled in to her father's wife." "Bless you child," Molly said, returning the caress. "I am just so happy we chanced upon each other this way." "I'll say!" Paddy exclaimed with a loud contented sigh. "You can't know how I have longed for this day!" It was getting late and the next day would be busy. Jeff offered to see Jennie home, but Paddy overruled him. "I'll drive my daughter home," he said. "And I'll extract a promise from her to come back every week!" "Easily done. I'll be more than happy to come," Jennie said. "And I will read to Nellie and Susan every time as promised." "God love you child," Molly said and kissed her step-daughter. "See you soon." "Yeah, see you tomorrow," Jeff quipped in. "Cathy and I will be there at 10, traffic permitting. I told George we would be at the apartment around 1." Paddy drove Jennie home in his lorry - the same vehicle Jeff would drive tomorrow. Paddy hadn't thought twice about it when Jeff had asked to borrow it 'to help a friend move'. Paddy thought the world of Jeff already. And now he had found Jennie for him! They were companionably silent together, father and grown daughter. It felt good. But unlike George's sleek Jaguar, Paddy's battered lorry had no GPS and when they approached Jennie's suburb, which Paddy knew roughly but not well enough to find individual streets, Jennie had to direct him. "When did you move here?" Paddy asked. "Just before I started school, I think," Jennie replied. "We lived in Cornwall before that, but I can't remember it." "Fancy you were living that close all along," Paddy said, mostly to him self. He pulled up a little distance from Jennie's parents' house. "Perhaps we'd better not let your mother and step-father see who was driving you home," he mused. "Could cause a conflict, and that would be a shame when you're moving out tomorrow." "It's not like I'm going to keep it a secret I found you," Jennie retorted. "Mum and Harold will know when I change my name back to Jennie Stewart-O'Brien. If not before then when they see it is you giving me away when I get married!" "Married 'eh?" her father said. "Are you planning on doing for Mr. Sanders what Molly did for me?" "More or less," Jennie replied. "I am older than Molly was, and Mr. Sanders has no children. But otherwise, yes. Another good man needing a real wife. I want that to be me." "He would be insane not to take you," her father said. "Just like you would have been insane not to take Molly," Jennie replied, kissed her father and hopped out. Paddy smiled to himself. While Jennie was reading to Nellie and Susan, Jeff had told them how Mr. Sanders had asked for and gotten a copy of the picture Jeff had taken of Jennie. Paddy had one too. The fact Mr. Sanders wanted one certainly suggested he was interested. Chapter 7 Saturday morning at the Banks household was tense. There was an unpleasant exchange between Jennie and her stepfather, he accusing her of using their home like a hotel, and Jennie retorting that she was actually paying like it was a hotel. "How did you get home last night dear?" a very unhappy Mrs. Banks asked trying to smooth things over. Jennie hesitated. She would so have liked to fling her real father's name at her step-father, but she did not want to humiliate her mum in his presence. "My colleague's girlfriend's father drove me home," Jennie replied - in complete accordance with the truth. "That was nice of him dear," her mother said. "Yes, he and his wife are lovely people. They made me ever so welcome," Jennie replied, once more telling the exact, if somewhat incomplete, truth. "Did you get paid for this week?" Mr. Banks asked abruptly. "I haven't checked," Jennie said - technically true, but perhaps disingenuous. She had set up the automatic payments for Jeff and herself Friday morning and George had authorised it with his digital signature just before leaving. George had insisted on her and Jeff getting a full week's pay, even if they had only worked for a few days. 'To cover the overtime,' he had said. Jennie was not going to let her step-father know that. "I don't think the money will be in my account yet," she added 'it won't, but only because I asked for the transfer to be delayed until Monday - by which time I will no longer be living here,' she thought. "Why?" she asked innocently 'Do you need more money for your gambling?' she thought viciously. "I just wanted to know," Mr. Banks said. "You have been very reluctant to pay what you owed me so far." "But surely you don't expect me to pay before I have the money myself, do you?" Jennie asked much too sweetly. "Of course your father doesn't," her mother chirped in - getting a withering glare from both of them. Mr. Banks got up and left the house. 'Damn the brat!' he thought. He didn't have much spare cash besides the £400 he had gotten off her earlier and he didn't dare not pay that to Mike. But he had a hot tip. It couldn't fail. He could make a stash! Like the compulsive gambler he was, he was certain that just one lucky bet and his problems would be over. 'If Mike isn't there I could place a bet with the money from Jennie and be able to clear my entire debt, not just pay off the most urgent part,' he thought, building up a rosy picture of a bright future that collapsed completely when he got to the seedy little gabling place and saw Nick and Steve - two nasty characters that worked for Mike - just inside the door. "Mike would like to talk to you 'Arold," Nick said without preamble. "Steve and I will take you there," he added - nodding at the huge chap. "'Eh, of course. When?" Harold asked in a voice that even to himself sounded like a high-pitched whine. "Right now," Nick said. "Mike told us to keep an eye out for you. 'Take 'im straight to the office' when 'e arrives,' 'e said." With as much dignity he could muster Harold Banks let himself be 'escorted' to Mike's 'front office' up stairs - in reality it was three rickety chairs on the landing. Mike was having another 'meeting' so Harold and his minders were made to wait for nearly three quarters of an hour. Eventually Mike let it be known he was ready to 'see Harold' and had him ushered in. All things considered it went well. Harold admitted readily that he couldn't pay everything he owed Mike here and now, but he had £400 and would pay off another £200 a week until the debt was gone. "Make that £300 a week for a year Harold," Mike said. "Not a penny less. If you get behind again I'll take your house. And don't go anywhere else until we're square. I’ll know if you do, Harold, and I won't like it." Harold Banks gasped. £300 a week for a year - that was close to £16.000, or nearly twice what he owed. He started to say something in protest, but Mike lifted his hand. "Show him off the premises lads," he said. "Make sure he doesn't come again for any other purpose than paying his debt!" A completely demoralised Harold Banks was 'shown off the premises' with a painful kick to his backside. He aimlessly wandered the busy streets not knowing what to do. Paying off £300 a week would mean siphoning £100 out of the household money in addition to the money from Jennie. It was more or less what he had been taking for years to fuel the, at first quite innocent, habit - until it had suddenly gone out of hand with grey loans and more and more risky bets. He was sure his wife would notice. It also meant an abrupt end to gambling; he was sure Mike would find out if he tried to go elsewhere. It was too risky, even for Harold. The next couple of hours were a blur. At noon he found a pub and decided to get drunk, or as drunk as he could get with the cash he had. Nursing pint after pint of the cheapest beer for as long as he could make them last meant he didn't get home until the source of two thirds of what he had committed to pay had slipped out of his house and hands for good. His 'ban' had not been heeded; the golden bird had flown. Jennie's mother had taken the news that Jennie would be moving to the apartment fine. She had been genuinely pleased for Jennie when it was first mentioned and hadn't expected her husband's protest to mean anything. Harold was a bit stuffy at times, she admitted to herself. A bit quick to see sins where there were none. Surely he wouldn't really mind that Jennie had her own place again. So when Jennie said that her colleague had managed to borrow a lorry today and that he and his girlfriend would come over to help packing, Mrs. Banks was delighted on Jennie's behalf and offered to help with the packing too. Mrs. Banks had also previously noticed the scarcity of close friends in her daughter's life and so she was delighted that Jenny had found such good friends in the co-worker and his young lady. But her cheerfulness towards Jeff who arrived a few minutes after 10 turned to abject shock when she saw Cathy. If Molly O'Brien could recognize Jennie in one glance then Vera Banks could do as much with Cathy. She blanched like she had seen a ghost. "Who are you?" she asked in a weak voice. Quite superfluous question, really. There could be no doubt. "I'm Catherine O'Brien, Mrs. Banks," Cathy replied as if this encounter was nothing out of the ordinary. "I believe you knew my father very well." Jennie giggled at her sister's innuendo. That was 'knowing' in a Biblical sense all right! "Yes Mum," she said, "I found out that I have a little sister. 3 little sisters and 2 brothers to be precise. Dad was happy to see me again." She looked very directly at her mum now. "I believe you and Harold wouldn't let him see me for ever so long." Her tone was light, but the accusation razor sharp. Vera Bank's was knocked for six. For over 20 years she had repressed that part of her life. "I don't want you to have anything to do with these people!" she gasped. "Your father would have a fit if he knew." "If you a referring to that ferrety compulsive gambler and child-molester you are married to as my 'father', you are in for an unpleasant surprise," Jennie said - her anger now boiling over and the polite veneer gone. "On Monday I will change my name by deed poll back to Jennifer Stewart-O'Brien. That's with a hyphen to remind the world of your union!" Her mother's was still combative. "He is not a compulsive gambler!" she yelled. "He just likes a bit of sport like the next man." "Yeah, right. And how come he's always so tight for money then?" Jennie retorted. "Well, times are hard," Vera Banks said vaguely and then tried another avenue of protest. "And what is that nonsense about child-molesting? He has done nothing of the sort." "He has too!" Jennie said. "Who? Where? When?" her mother demanded. "Me! Here in this very house! Ever since before I grew boobs he's been fondling them," Jennie shot back. "Why do you think I hated having them? Why do you think I never had a proper boyfriend?" and she burst out crying. Mrs. Banks tried one final argument. "But your father was not even keen on having you move back in. I had to persuade him! And if he's been an affectionate father to you, where's the harm in that?" "Punk!" Jennie spat, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand roughly and not caring that her makeup smeared. "He was keen enough to take almost all the money George gave me for office clothes. AND grope my boobs in the process even though it was screaming agony because they were so tender from my period. I used one of the tricks they taught us in the self-defence. I should have carried it through and broken the bastard's arm. Except then he would have had to come to you for help to piss and wank!" Vera Banks' world collapsed around her. She remembered clearly her husband rubbing his lower arm when he came down from Jennie's room on Tuesday evening. She had asked about the bruising, but he had been evasive about it. Jennie must be telling the truth. Vera Banks was not an evil person or a particularly bad mother. But she was weak-willed. The only time in her life she had ever defied the 'authorities' around her - her parents, her bossy older sisters, and her pastor and church elders - was when they told her she couldn't possibly marry Paddy O'Brien because he was Irish, Roman Catholic and a tradesman. In this one independent stance she had decided 'Fine, I shan't marry him; I'll just live with him.' She had been genuinely happy the two years they were together and had born his baby with pride. But the pressure from her family and 'friends' had been constant and relentless and in the end she had yielded to their demands and let herself be whisked away to her oldest sister in Cornwall and practically forced into the arms of one Harold Banks a short time later. She had never loved Harold. Sex with him had not only been unsatisfying (especially after Paddy who has a real man in all respects) but downright unpleasant. When after a year or two it was obvious he couldn't make her pregnant, she had ceased having sex with him. And when his lowly position as a clerk with an insurance company had taken them back to London just before Jennie started school, they had settled into a grey joyless middle class suburban existence. She had made herself believe they were living a respectable life. She had made herself believe Harold's lies about the money he spent on gambling - that they were for charity. But she knew Jennie was right - she knew money had disappeared at an alarming rate. She knew they ought to have owned a much larger part of the house by now than what they did. She knew there had been difficulties at the last refinancing; they had next to no equity. But she had not known that Harold had been touching Jennie in an inappropriate manner. There wasn't much she could do about her situation, but her only child had to know she had not known and acquiesced in, much less condoned, her husband's actions. "Please forgive me for not reacting. I didn't know. Please believe me. And please forgive me for not knowing," she said in a tone of voice Jennie had never hear before. Jeff had been watching this highly emotional exchange with increasing unease. "Listen, if you want us to leave. I mean, if the time is bad..." he started. "NO!" Jennie said. "As you can hear I have to get out." She turned to her mother. "And so do you. Before he drags you down. Divorce him, sell the house and start afresh on your own." Her mother was both listening and not listening, staring blankly into space. "You do believe me, don't you?" she asked. "Yes, I do believe you," Jennie replied. "You didn't know. You should have known, but then, I should have told you." She hugged her and turned to Jeff and Cathy. "Sorry you had to be dragged into this." "Rubbish," Cathy said. "We're family, remember?" She then opened her purse, got out her stuff and started fixing her sister's makeup. "Yes," Jennie said with a deep contented sigh. "Yes. I haven't quite gotten used to the fact yet, but I do love the idea." Cathy and Jeff were remarkably efficient. Jeff had brought a lot of boxes and in about two hours Jennie's entire worldly possessions had been packed and most of them transferred to the lorry. Vera Banks had made herself scarce but appeared with 4 mugs of coffee and a tin of biscuits. They sat on the remaining boxes drinking the coffee. "Can I know your new address?" she asked timidly as they rose to finish the job. "Of course you can," Jennie replied more than a little ashamed that her mother felt she had to ask and obviously feared she might not have it. "I hope you'll come and see me and the place really soon." She jotted down the address on a scrap of paper in the kitchen as they carried out the last few things to the lorry. "But promise me you won't bring Harold or even tell him where I live," she said, then hugged her mother and drove off. Chapter 8 They pulled up at the apartment house almost exactly at 1 PM. Jeff blatantly disregarded the parking restrictions, set the emergency lights flashing and started to unload the lorry. Cathy and Jenny took turns holding the door open and helping Jeff and in next to no time everything had been transferred to the lobby. "Better not push me luck," Jeff said. "I'll take the lorry back to Paddy - there is no chance of finding a parking spot big enough around here. See you in an 'our and an 'alf." He kissed Cathy and drove off. The sisters were eyeing the pile of boxes and sundry furniture. Mercifully there seemed to be a lift all the way up to the penthouse, but they had no idea how to organise it - quite a few things would need two people, leaving no one to look after the rest. At that moment George walked in. Jennie flung her arms around his neck and burst out crying. George patiently patted her head while greeting a bemused Cathy over Jennie's heaving shoulders. "Hi, I'm George Sanders," he said. "You must be Cathy." "I am. How do you do?" Cathy asked politely. Nodding in direction of her sister she added "Jennie's had a bit of a dust up with her mother this morning." Cathy wasn't sure how much George knew, so she added a diplomatic "A few things about her step father that should have been said a long time ago came out in stressful circumstances." George nodded in complete understanding and then turned to the crying girl in his arms "Jennie my love, calm down. Everything will be fine. He can't hurt you anymore." Cathy smiled to herself. 'His love, 'eh?' she thought. 'Very well. Very very well.' OK, so George knew what there was to know and he seemed as keen on Jennie as she obviously was on him. "I think she worries about having burned her bridges," Cathy said - then added almost scornfully "Like Dad would ever let her be without a place to stay now that he's finally found her again!" George smiled. "Like I would either!" Jennie raised a tear-stained grimy face to George and let herself be kissed and finally let go. And for the second time in a few hours her little sister fixed up her makeup before they started getting Jennie's things up to the penthouse. "Let's take everything of value first," George said. "We can leave the rest down here; you need a key to get into the lobby and I am sure the other tenants are honest." The apartment was nothing short of stunning and remarkably spacious for a penthouse. "It is still partly furnished," George said apologetically. "Feel free to use what's here. Or if you want to get rid of anything then just let me know." "No, it's perfect," Jennie said. "I love the furniture. I don't have much; my place was small. But what I have can go in the empty spare room. Everything is lovely." "I fear the kitchen gear isn't up to much," George said. "There's never been much cooking done here." "That I can rectify," Jennie said. "I have a lot of stuff - I love to cook." "Great," George said with a cheeky grin. "You can fix us lunch then. I went past the markets on the way over. I'll go get what I bought from the car on the next trip down." They had just about gotten everything up and reassembled the furniture when Jeff showed up again. "That was good timing love," Cathy said teasingly. "We've just finished all the hard work." Jeff grinned and let himself be taken on a guided tour by Cathy. "Listen Jennie," he said at the end. "That view over the rooftops towards the river must get boring after I while. If you ever tire of this place then just let me know..." "You wish!" Cathy said, but Jennie just laughed. "I'll keep you posted," she said. "Meanwhile the spare bedroom is at your disposal if you've taken my sister out for a night on the town and you find the way home too long - or if George has kept you working until late at night. Anyway, enough of that. George has bought half the markets' produce. Let's eat." Cathy and Jeff left in the late afternoon; George lingered while Jennie carried on unpacking. He made them a cup of tea with bread and cheese around 8 since neither of them was hungry after the late and substantial lunch. Afterwards they were sitting quietly in the living area. George obviously wanted to stay but couldn't find a reason to do so. "I'd better leave you to finish the unpacking and get some rest after a long day," he said reluctantly. "You are welcome to stay," Jennie said, then looking straight at George she added "As far as I'm concerned, you don't ever have to leave." George went through an inner struggle. "Wednesday!" he finally mumbled, as if that one word made sense. To Jennie it did. "As you say, Wednesday. If you stayed the night - and God knows I want you too - we might jump the gun." "Do you think I'm crazy wanting to wait until Wednesday?" he suddenly asked. "Honestly? No," Jennie replied. "You are who you are and I don't want you to change. If anyone or anything is crazy it's the fact we both are so completely sure we want each other. We've known each other for, what? 4 days?" "So you mean a week and a day's courtship won't be excessive?" George asked with a grin, as he got up - although the question was seriously meant. "Exactly - and then there'll be no lingering regrets over not living up to your own standards. Your self-esteem is worth a lot," Jennie said, following him. "To me too," she added barely over a whisper. But George, who was putting on his shoes and jacket and was about to open the door, heard. When he turned around he looked at Jennie in a way that made her feel all shaky inside. She had never seen such hunger. "I don't think anyone else has ever valued my self-esteem," George said with a tenderness in his voice that almost made Jennie swoon. And yet she sensed just a hint of bitterness too. "Just as well you found me then," she said. "Just as well!" George said with a deep sigh. He was standing very close to Jennie now. "Listen, if I start kissing you now I'll never get away from here. Good night!" He gave her a quick peck and then headed off. "Good night George," Jennie said to the closed door. "I love you, you know." Earlier that day Vera Banks - already reeling from Jennie's revelations - had received another shock. Harold came home drunk! Not very drunk, but smelling of beer and speaking noticeably slurred. With Vera slightly hard of hearing it didn't make for the best circumstances to have a serious conversation. And Harold was drunk enough to have decided to 'come clean'. It took quite some time before Vera realised that when Harold talked about 'being in trouble' he wasn't talking about the completely inappropriate behaviour towards his stepdaughter but rather his gambling debt. And conversely when Vera talked about his plans 'not adding up', Harold was at first unaware that she was not referring to the £100 he had to siphon out of the household money every week but rather the fact that £200 from Jennie was pie in the sky since she was no longer living with them. The realisation sobered him up in no time. He raved and ranted about Jennie being an 'ungrateful slut'. He declared loudly that this bizarre job of hers wouldn't last and she would 'come running back with her tail between her legs'. How that was going to help was unclear - if she didn't have the job there would be no money, but before he could elaborate on this Vera echoed the same sentiment Cathy had expressed. "She won't, Harold. Her father would take care of her." "What do you mean? I will do no such thing!" Harold said outraged "No, but her father will," Vera repeated. "What are you talking about woman?" Harold demanded. "Paddy O'Brien is who I'm talking about," Vera said, speaking a name that had been taboo for many years. "Jennie has found him. One of her new colleagues is engaged to her half-sister. Lovely girl. The spitting image of Jennie." "I forbid her seeing those people!" Harold yelled - exactly as Vera had predicted he would some hours earlier. "You are not in a position to forbid anything Harold," Vera said quietly. "She is an adult. She can make her own choices." Harold broke down. "What are we going to do?" "I don't know what you are going to do Harold," Vera said coldly but still quietly. "I am going to see a solicitor on Monday about a divorce. And a real-estate agent about selling the house. And my employer about going full time and a transfer to another branch - somewhere with cheaper rents than London." "You can't!" Harold said. "What will the congregation say?" "I couldn't care less," Vera said. "They have never given me anything but grief with their joyless suppression of everything that is nice and their endless babble about life after death. From now on I will focus on life before death, whatever is left of it. It will not involve you or them. With luck it may involve my only child, even though I've failed her miserably." "I won't agree to a divorce and you cannot sell the house," Harold said - but most of his bravura was gone and it sounded more like pleading than arguing. "You don't have to agree to a thing for me to divorce you. If you really want your step-daughter to testify against you, feel free to bring that upon yourself," Vera said. "And as to selling the house, no, perhaps I cannot - the market is difficult. And the way you have squandered our equity on gambling means we may not get a penny in hand. But one thing is certain: if the sale brings in any money then I will fight you tooth and nail for it." Harold opened his mouth to speak but words failed him. He had never known Vera to be assertive about anything; for almost twenty years he had controlled her completely. This was wholly unexpected. What followed was even worse. "You can sleep in the guest room," Vera ended up saying. "I expect you to move out of the house as quickly as possible. In the meantime I will not cook, clean or wash for you. The food in the fridge and cupboards is mine, bought with my money. If you take it you are nothing but a common thief." She turned to go. "Where are you going?" he asked. "Upstairs to move your things from the bedroom to the guest room," Vera said. "Our marriage ends now." During the Sunday Jennie got the rest of her stuff unpacked and the apartment set up to her liking. The only 'thing' missing was George she thought to herself. After lunch - there was still lots left over from George's shopping Saturday - she gave her mother a call. Her mother sounded very strange to Jennie and answered evasively when asked how she was. "Has anything happened?" Jennie asked. "A lot of things have happened Jennie," her mother replied. "And a lot of things will happen over the next couple of days. Right now I don't know exactly what is going to happen and I'm not really ready to talk about it. Suffice to say I am heeding your advice." That was news. "Good for you Mum," Jennie said warmly. "And remember: You can always call me. OK?" "Thanks love. That is nice to know. Especially because it is completely unearned," Vera said and ended the conversation. On Monday morning Jeff, George and Jennie again converged at 8.30. Jennie gave both her 'favourite men' a peck on the cheek before starting up the secretarial systems and the indispensable coffee brewer. George and Jeff looked at each other bemusedly. "This brings staff perks to an 'ole new level!" Jeff said with a grin. "Yes, I guess I can save a ton on the salary account if I have Jennie kissing everyone each morning!" George laughed back. "Sorry boys," Jennie protested good-naturedly from the kitchenette. "That is reserved for family!" George and Jeff exchanged significant looks. If the sisters had their way they would be family soon enough. "Would I do for a brother in law you reckon?" George asked lightly, put a hand on the laughing younger man's shoulder and directed them towards the server room. All the data was there and all systems were running. George issued commands to make his erstwhile customer's installations seek instructions from Sanders IT Security - not the rogue operation set up by his wife and her lover. Within the next 24 hours he would be back in control. On Tuesday something happened that at first seemed unsettling. George and Jeff were in Jeff's office checking how many of the customer installations had 'called home' and Jennie was sipping coffee and studying the manual for the financial system when her console sounded an alert. Looking up she saw a flashing "Intruder Alert - Suspended Access Card Swiped" message including a link to the card in question. Before she could follow the link, the buzzer sounded. She pressed the intercom button and said her usual "Sanders IT Security - how may I help you?" while clicking the link. "Neil McKay reporting to work," a distorted but clearly north-British voice said and at the same time a picture of one very Scottish looking 'Neil McKay, Senior support analyst' appeared on the screen. On impulse Jennie decided to be accommodating. "Hi Neil. Welcome back. Come right up and have your card reactivated." "Och aye," Neil was heard to mumble as Jennie pressed the access button. The man that appeared from the lift a few minutes later was little short of a giant. Jennie went to open the glass door but felt convinced he was able to kick it in if he wanted to. Slightly apprehensively Jennie held out her hand to the giant who was openly studying her. "Hi Neil, I'm Jennie - George's new secretary and PA. George will be happy to see you. He is in a meeting with our new Operations Manager right now, but I'll let him know you're here." The giant shook her hand - very gently to Jennie's immense relief. "Is he the noo? That's guid. I've worrit about him ye ken. I wondered what he was up to when I saw activity from the domain." Jennie froze. "How many people know we're starting up again?" she asked with panic in her voice. The giant laughed. "Dinnae fash yersel wee lassie. I've told no one. I sait to that rascal John I took a week's holiday. He thinks I'm gaun fushing in a burn in Ayrshire. Forbye I am no friend of his nor of that besom George was merrit to." Jennie was imperfectly acquainted with the Scots tongue but nevertheless understood that Neil was a friend. "You can tell us more when George and Jeff are here in a minute. Take the office next to mine; there is a PC there. I'll reactivate your account. That should work for your access card too." The giant grunted approvingly. "I see why George hired you Jennie. You are effective - and pretty to look at too." Jennie blushed but smiled and brought her console back from screen lock. "Type in a new password here Neil," she said "and we'll get you set." She had chosen the office next to hers on purpose - it had a very large office chair and a computer desk that could be adjusted in height, and she guessed it would have been Neil's originally. It was; when Jennie reappeared a few moments later with a cup of coffee he was smiling contentedly. "It's guid to be back in my office," he said. "It's good to have you back," Jennie replied warmly. "I'll go get George." Jennie knocked on Jeff's door. "Come in," two voices called. Jennie peered in. "I am happy to report the staff count is now 4," Jennie said. "Mr. McKay is back in his old office." "Neil?" George said with unmistakable delight in his voice. "That's the one," Jennie replied. "He noticed activity from the domain and 'reported back to work' as he put it." Jeff and George both reacted to that in much the same way as Jennie had. "Have no fear," she said. "I didn't understand everything Neil said, but from what I gather he is no fan of your ex-wife or her lover, so he has told no one." A few minutes later they were all drinking coffee in Neil's office. The news he had was interesting - John was driving the new company to the brink chiefly because he understood too little of the day to day running of the systems. The developers had made a new version of the software with many interesting features, and this had been communicated to the customers with great fanfare, but deploying it had stalled. "The stupid galoot can't work it out," Neil chuckled. "You mean he doesn't know that the loader only accepts signed code?" George asked in disbelief. "Aye, he kens. That's the problem," Neil said. "Tina delivered the code, but he has to sign it - and he hasna got the key!" "Don't you have it?" Jeff asked. "I might," Neil replied with a sparkle in his eye, "- seeing as I wrote the code way back when we were only 4 or 5 people, but I'm not supposed to have it and I never told him." "So you are actually running exactly the same code as when George went on leave?" Jeff asked. "Aye, warts an all," Neil confirmed. "Any chance of getting Tina - and her new code - lured back here?" George asked. "I'll try," Neil said. "She loves John no more than I do. And she cannot abide Lillian." "Go for it," George said. "You can promise her a substantial raise. But I'd like to have her back in the fold by Friday. We've got plans." Chapter 9 Wednesday morning George didn't come into the office. He was meeting up with Henry and making the final adjustments to the plans for the court appearance. But Jennie, Jeff and Neil were at work. Jennie saw this as a golden opportunity to get to know a little more about the company's - and George's - recent past. Neil was happy to tell her about it, only she understood very little. When she had made it clear to Neil that she really had difficulties with his accent, he relented and switched to something closer to her English. That helped. The story he told made her blood boil. Lillian Sanders had been more or less openly unfaithful for years - with a shocking number of their male friends and several of George's staff. The last straw was when she took up with John, George's second in command, and actually moved in with him. George was finally going to give both her - and John - the boot when Lillian fell ill. Very ill. In just weeks her health deteriorated to the point where she was at death's door. The diagnosis was acute lymphoblastic leukaemia and the prognosis was dire. Neither chemotherapy nor radiation therapy brought significant, much less lasting, remission. She fled 'home' to George who without question took her back in, assigned the day-to-day running of the company to John and nursed Lillian through the horrors of the treatment. When it was obvious that only a bone marrow transplant could save her, he tirelessly located potential donors amongst Lillian's extensive family, battered them into being tested for compatibility and in the nick of time found a second cousin that matched to perfection (chiefly, the doctor confidentially told George, because the DNA profile showed the donor was actually a half-sister, not a second cousin). The treatment was a complete success. Lillian recovered very quickly, needed no immuno-suppressing drugs and in a short time span she was back in her usual health. And her usual habits. Her 'thank you' to George was to leave him again and once more move in with John who had 'set up shop' on his own while George was nursing Lillian. Through a combination of half-truths and outright lies, most of the staff had followed John over in the new company and the rest had been sacked, but as Neil had explained yesterday the company was not a success and many had subsequently left. And several key staff, like Neil and Tina, who had been with George from the beginning, were outraged when they slowly learned the truth and deeply ashamed that they had deserted George in the way they did. "Well you're here now Neil," Jennie said warmly. "There was true joy in George's eyes when I told him yesterday you'd walked in." The huge scot beamed at Jennie. "Aye, that was guid. And I noticed he has a keen eye for you my wee lassie," he said. "Och aye," Jennie said with a grin and went back to work. The lady judge spoke. "The petitioner has requested that the court makes the decree absolute without delay. The court may do so in accordance with the provisions in subsection 4 of section 10 of part 1 of the Matrimonial Causes Act provided the court has obtained a satisfactory undertaking from the petitioner that he will make such financial provision for the respondent as the court may approve." She looked frostily at George and Henry, and then turned to Lillian's camp. "The respondent has agreed in principle to this and provided a list of assets and a suggestion for their just division," she said in a much milder voice. George snorted and the judge once more looked at him with an icy stare. "Does the petitioner agree to the accuracy of the summary of assets and the fairness of the proposed division?" "Neither!" George muttered. Henry put a restraining hand on him and rose to deliver their rehearsed objection. "Your Honour, my client finds neither the summary of assets to be a true representation of the combined estate nor the proposed division reasonable," Henry said. "What is the nature of the objections?" the judge asked icily "There are numerous. First and foremost my client finds it objectionable that the valuation of the summer cottage in the Lake District that it has been agreed the respondent retains is listed as the lowest of the 3 valuations obtained whereas the value of the house in Kent that my client retains is listed as the highest of the 3 valuations. We would propose a mean value be used for both," Henry said - hoping that this red herring would work. "Anything further?" the judge asked. "My client also finds the value assigned to the goodwill of his company to be highly inflated. At the present there is next to no activity in the company. That fact in itself is the subject of separate legal action..." Henry said. "And is thus not relevant in this court," the judge cut him off. "As to the valuations of the two properties, they were all made by independent parties. Given the difference in the market situation for recreational and permanent dwellings respectively, this Court does not find the chosen valuations unreasonable." George was spluttering and Henry once more put a restraining hand on him. "Your Honour, can I take counsel with my client for a moment?" he asked - assuming an exasperated visage. "By all means do," the judge replied with something bordering on sympathy (for Henry) in her voice. Some heavy-duty whispering went on - designed to be clearly audible to both the judge and Lillian and her legal team. "George, restrain yourself! You risk only getting a decree nisi, not a decree absolute. Then we have to wait another 6 months and waste a lot of money. And the judge will still find in favour of Lillian's list," Henry said in a loud whisper. "But what if I managed to sell the house well in a couple of years, or if the company recovers. Or if she tries to sell the cottage and loses out. Can she come back for more?" George whispered loudly in a grumpy voice. "Will this ever end? What about pensions in 30 years?" "We could ask that the asset list be set aside and a simple final lump sum be agreed," Henry said "Will that save me anything?" George asked petulantly. "Only trouble," Henry replied. A faint sniggering from Lillian's counsel could be heard. The rest of the conversation was inaudible to the judge and opposing party. Henry rose again. "Your Honour, I have advised my client that he petition the court to set aside the respondent's list of assets and their division in favour of an agreement in which the two properties are to be held absolutely by the respective parties, all present and future assets in the company be awarded to my client and one final and invariable lump sum paid to cover the balance." "The court will have no objection to that provided the respondent agrees," the judge said with an inquiring look at Lillian's side. Lillian's counsel rose. "The respondent is equally interested in complete closure," she said - thus clearly indicating she had overheard Henry and George's 'private' conversation, "provided the sum does not change!" She smiled at the judge 'we've got the bastard by the balls' she seemed to communicate. The judge smiled a thin smile back. "Oh very well then," George spat loudly. "I take that to be consent," the judge said drily. "This court grants an immediate decree absolute. Title to the property in Sevenoaks is granted to the petitioner who also retains all rights and assets in the company Sanders IT Security. Title to the property in Windermere is transferred absolutely to the respondent. In addition the petitioner pays the respondent the sum of £1.800.000 as a complete and final settlement within 7 days." George and Henry managed to look grim all the way out of the court. Only when they had gotten round the corner did they break out in loud guffaws. "That was glorious," George laughed, "the twit thinks she won!" "Yes, we did all right," Henry laughed back. "We haven't acted better since the 6th form school play! Should we go out and celebrate?" "Yes rather," George said. "But not for too long. You have to get home to Annie and the kiddywinks and I am going to see Jennie at the apartment tonight!" At 7 PM George - certainly in a good mood, but not by any means drunk - rang the bell at the apartment. When Jennie opened the door she could barely see him for a gigantic bunch of long-stemmed red roses. "How did it go?" Jennie asked. But from George's face, she already knew the tidings were good. "Hook, line and sinker," George chuckled. “They thought they were so clever and won a big victory. Lillian's counsel and the female judge were almost crowing over having thwarted yet another man. It was glorious." "And so it is all over?" Jennie asked as she put the flowers in a vase. "Yes," George replied. "I am a free man now." "Good," Jennie replied, placed the vase on the table and started to undress. George was staring mesmerised at the display Jennie put on. He was positively gaping at her large gravity-defying breasts and her, in all respects, perfect body. Taking a leaf out of her step-mother's book, Jennie took George by the hand, dragged him to the bedroom and started to undress him. "Come on big boy," she said coyly when she had taken off his tie and shirt revealing a pleasantly muscular torso. "I want to see what it is you've been hiding from me!" She knelt down as she undid his belt and dragged down his suit pants. When he had stepped out of them she pulled down his briefs releasing his large very erect dick that had tented them out. "Nice!" she said, gave it a long deep wet lick and added "Now put it in me!" as she got up, flung herself on the bed and spread her legs invitingly. George, always the gentleman, was perplexed "Just like that, I mean right away?" he inquired. "Yes!" Jennie replied. "We've had a week's worth of foreplay. Now I want you in me." George had another objection. "Don't you want me to use a condom?" he asked. "No!" Jennie replied. "Not now and not ever. Come in me and come in me." George offered no more objections. He knelt between Jennies legs, positioned his straining dick at her very moist opening and started to insert it. George was well endowed - but no monster. But he didn't get beyond her fleshy lips before he encountered resistance. "You're a virgin?" he asked in amazement. "Not anymore I'm not," Jennie replied as she grabbed George's firm bottom with both hands and pulled him in. She felt a brief pain, but George remained still after he had penetrated her and the slight discomfort dissipated quickly to be replaced with the new but wonderful feeling of being filled. She pulled him down, his chest mashing her large soft breasts and her mouth hungrily meeting his. After a while she started to rock her pelvis, indicating to him that movement was okay and he started to fuck her - slowly at first, but faster and faster, deeper and deeper. The feeling of being possessed by him was overwhelming. Every time he bottomed out in her, she felt their pubic bones meet and her clit was stimulated in the most fantastic way. After only a few minutes she reached a plateau and had what was essentially one long continuous orgasm. The third or fourth time the rhythmic contraction sent ripples down her vagina George went over the edge and exploded in a massive ejaculation. He tried to roll off of her, self-conscious of his weight, but Jennie stopped him. "Stay where you are," she panted. "I love the feeling." After a while George's dick softened and slid out of Jennie. She let him roll off and snuggled in close to him, "That was fantastic," she said. "It was everything I'd dreamt it would be." "I was really your first?" George marvelled. "Yup!" Jennie confirmed happily. "Why, I mean, how come?" George asked. "Lots of reasons, really," Jennie replied. "First and last I was waiting for the right guy." "And that's me?" George asked in wonder. "Yes!" Jennie said. "You and only you. Now and always." "As far as I can work out you're pretty 'safe' tonight, but you said 'not ever' when I asked about condoms?" George said after a longish pause. "Yes, you can forget about those," Jennie said firmly. "You will get pregnant," George said - it was a statement, not a question. "That's the idea," Jennie said. "As soon as possible." "You really mean that, don't you?" George asked. "I do," Jennie replied. "I want your babies. Lots of them. Starting now." They kissed and cuddled for a long time. Hunger finally drove them out of bed and they had a slap-up meal in the kitchen dressed in very little. The conversation went back to the outcome of the court case and the immediate plans for the resurrection of the company. "Well, as I said, John crippled the company by copying the client database, stealing the software and then erasing all IT-installations and selling the equipment off as scrap," George said. "But he was so busy screwing my wife that he failed to check the details. Not only did he overlook the off-site backup-daemon I told you about that ensures we now have complete copies of everything right up until his final betrayal, he also overlooked that the proprietary software has secret back doors that will allow me full access to all systems. At will. I'm just waiting for the right moment to take my customers back." "When are we moving in?" Jennie said - so excited that she used the first person plural without thinking. George did notice and his heart leapt with joy. "We 'move in' for the kill as soon as that deceitful bastard I used to trust absolutely heads off on holidays with that slut I, God help me, was married to." "When is that?" Jennie inquired - her pulse racing. "Friday night. It is perfect!" George replied. "How come you know?" Jennie asked. "Simple - she booked the journey; a £15.000 luxury trip to the Maldives by the way, using a credit card issued from my personal bank account. I got the receipts," George said "How come you don't block that card?" Jennie asked outraged. "She will have enough of your money now as it is!" "Oh, but I will block it," George replied with a chuckle. "Friday at around 7.30PM when we're sure their flight has departed. Then I'll cancel the card along with their company Credit Cards and the SIM cards in their cell-phones which are also registered to Sanders IT Security." "Won't John have another Credit Card?" Jennie asked. "Unlikely," George said drily. "He went personally bankrupt some years ago. I think the company card is the only one he's ever held since then." "What happens then?" Jennie asked. "Well, they have the hotel prepaid and breakfast is included," George said. "Other than that, well, I hope for them they brought cash..." Jennie laughed. "It sounds like you don't expect them to?" "Not in my experience," George replied. "It used to drive me wild Lillian never had a penny in cash." "Well, it sounds like they are going to have a jolly holiday," Jennie chuckled. "Yes," George replied. "They should discover it already in Malé Airport when their phones won't go online and they can't get on their ferry because all 3 Credit Cards are rejected. As far as I can work out their hotel is on an atoll some 4 miles from the airport. A long nice swim! No, wait a minute, transfers are included. They should be able to get out there." "Can't they phone home for funds?" Jennie asked. "Yes," George said. "If the hotel will let them use the phone without a Credit Card. And they can't do it until Tuesday..." he started ",,, because Monday is a Bank Holiday!" Jennie completed the sentence. "Oh George, it is perfect!" "Only you are perfect," George said, picked her up and carried her back to bed. "Now, let's practise some more on making that perfect baby - if this old man can get it up again." "What old man?" Jennie said and 'attacked' George's already semi-hard dick with her mouth Jennie was good at that. Very good. "Sweetheart, if you keep doing that I'll come in your mouth, not in your pussy!" George gasped after a short while of the purest sexual bliss of his life. "Can't have that, can we?" Jennie said, pushed George back on the bed and moved up. "I want to be on top this time!" George didn't say anything - he already had one of Jennie's large nipples in his mouth and was busy playing with the other with his hand. Despite having licked George to the brim, it was Jennie who came first. The feeling of sliding up and down on George's hard rod combined with what he was doing to her nipples brought her off so quickly George was almost left behind. But only almost. Once more it was the ripples in her tight vagina from her climax that triggered his. They fell asleep that way. George's last action was pulling the covers over them. His last thought was non-verbal. It was the feeling of overwhelming happiness. Chapter 10 They must have shifted in the night. When George woke up around 5AM Jennie was no longer on top of him but still lying very close. She had her back to him and they were lying in spoons. His semi-stiff dick was pressed against her delicious ass and he had a hand on one of her boobs. George had always been a boob-man and Lillian had nothing to be ashamed of in that department, but Jennie's was something else entirely. Regretfully he surrendered to the call of nature and left the bed. When he returned from the bathroom and got back in a similar position, Jennie rolled over to face him, grabbed his hand and moved it to her breast. Her started playing with her nipple and was instantly hard. She lifted up one leg and pulled him close. The angle wasn't quite right for actual penetration and George was about to say something when he felt Jennie's lips on his and seconds later her tongue in his mouth. With her hand she pulled him closer and demonstrated her agility by angling her lower body to allow his dick to go at least half way in. They established a rhythm of sorts. Their gentle rocking forth and back carried on for a long long time. Both were enjoying the intimate closeness and neither had expected it to be anything but nice - yet a powerful climax hit them both almost exactly at the same time. "God, you're addictive," George hissed as he came in his dream-girl for the third time in 10 hours. "Good," Jennie panted back. "I want you to want me always!" They drifted off again and were awakened by Jennie's alarm clock at 7. They showered together and had breakfast just wearing towels. "I don't really know what I'm going to do for clothes today," George said with a grin. "Don't go through all that trouble just for me," Jennie cooed. "Ha, very funny," George said. "I think Jeff and Neil should be spared seeing me in the nude!" "Their loss," Jennie laughed. "But at least I'm happy for my sister that Jeff is unlikely to be interested!" "Good point," George agreed. "Actually, I used to have spare clothes here, but I removed them before you got the keys." "Sometimes you are just too conventional," Jennie said. "You knew quite well you wanted to sleep with me when you offered me the apartment. Why not just leave the spare clothes?" "Don't know," George conceded. "But it felt so, well, blatant, arrogant even, to just anticipate that what we did last night would happen." "What?" Jennie said. "Even after I practically stripped for you on Thursday at the office?" "Bear with me, I'm an old-fashioned guy!" George laughed. "I will bear with you - and bear your children - that's nice and old-fashioned, isn't it?" Jennie said and dropped her towel. "Have we got time for another practise run?" "Not really," George said while at the same time removing his towel to reveal his dick was once more at full mast. "Do you think these kitchen chairs are strong enough for two?" he mused as he held out his arms. They were. A few minutes later Jennie's rippling vagina coaxed yet another dose of sperm out of George, her climax having been set off by George's mouth on her nipples. "We're getting rather good at this," she said. "And we're also getting rather late. Put on yesterday's shirt and let's head off. No one will notice." Had the 'audience' been only Jeff and Neil, no-one would have noticed. Sure, they were aware that George and Jennie arrived late - and together, and looking very happy, but they didn't say anything. But someone else did. A tall bony woman of around thirty was waiting for them too. "Tina!" George exclaimed and greeted his erstwhile chief developer with a hug. "It is so good to see you. Welcome back on board. I guess Neil has introduced you to Jeff. This is Jennie, our secretary, receptionist - and my PA." "Very P," Tina said drily with a sniff. "Jesus George, have you stopped taking showers?" Tina's legendary bluntness almost made George blush and he worried Jennie would be embarrassed. He needn't have worried. "He showers all right," Jennie said. "But all kinds of things can happen to two people dressed only in towels. And we were late enough as it was." Tina laughed out loud. "Well, I'm glad George's taste in women has improved," she said. "The physical base model is the same - why change a winner? But brains and a sense of humour - well, that I call an improvement." Neil snorted and George just shook his head. "I guess I ought to tell you that Tina started as a shy and modest summer intern when she was, what? 18? About thirty seconds later she was our lead developer and in possession of the dirtiest mouth in all of English IT." "Then we shall be friends," Jennie said, locked her arm in Tina's and walked her off to a vacant office down the corridor. "How long have you been working for George?" Tina asked when they were alone, getting a PC ready. "About a week," Jennie replied. "Hired last Tuesday, first day of work last Thursday." "And how long have you, you know..." Tina, uncharacteristically, trailed off. "Been his lover you mean?" Jennie completed the question. "Since last night. I think we felt an instant attraction, but he wanted the divorce to be final first." "You mean you didn't know him personally before?" Tina said in open admiration. "Wow. Are you always that quick?" Jennie was slightly torn. Was she ready to share this kind of information with someone she had known for 5 minutes? She decided she was. "Yes, every time," she said. She could see Tina was about to say something and added "For the simple reason that he is my first." She looked Tina straight in the eye and held her gaze. "Good for you," Tina said - and sounded like she meant it. "Good for George and good for you. If only that bitch Lillian knew!" "She shan't," Jennie. "I dare say George had some vague plans along those lines - I do know I share some physical resemblance with the former Mrs. Sanders so I could be flaunted off as the younger model with the bigger boobs - but all that is off. Something came up." "What?" Tina asked. Jennie smiled. "We fell in love." Thursday and Friday was spent finalising the master plan for the take-over, or take-back, operation which would now include Tina's much improved new version - a great advantage since it would help customer acceptance of the second change to operations in six months. "Are you sure it is stable?" George asked for the umpteenth time. "Of course it is stable," Tina shot back. "We have been testing it and testing it and retesting it. Couldn't do anything but testing it since bloody John wasn't able to deploy it!" "Right-oh," George said cheerfully. "Just wanted to be sure." Friday night at 19.17 the live flight information web-page of Gatwick Airport reported that British Airways Flight BA2043 bound for Malé was airborne. The operation could start. Present at the Sanders IT Security premises were all 5 members of staff, augmented by Cathy who had helped serving a very festive meal. She had been sworn to secrecy, but frankly the business part didn't interest her. What did interest her was the change in her sister. She seemed so happy and alive. While the technical staff was issuing instructions, Jennie made two phone calls. One was to cancel the three Credit Cards. "Yes, we want them cancelled, not just blocked. We have just discovered that they are being fraudulently used," she assured the operator at Visa International. "No, it is former employees - even the personal one. Yes, we will handle it from here, no need for you to do so. We are not disputing the purchases and the amounts will be covered," There was a pause will Jennie listened and after rummaging for a document she said "Yes, I have the code here" - and read it out and jotted down the transaction code she got back. The next call was to the phone company and she gave a similar story. "No, the SIM cards should simply be blocked. We will cancel the subscriptions on Tuesday but to cut our loses we want to make sure they cannot be used anymore. Very good. Thank you." "What was that about?" Cathy asked. "That was to ensure that George doesn't pay any more of his ex-wife and her lover's holidays in the Maldives," Jennie said coolly. "I get it - the airport details!" Cathy said. "Gosh, I hope for them they have other funds." "I don't!" Jennie said. "Payback time." Cathy stared at her; then started laughing. They broke up early. "Have a great long Bank Holiday weekend," George said. "I'll see you all on Tuesday morning. Please note that my cell-phone number has changed. The old number is redirected to the switchboard." "Why is that?" Jeff asked. "Because he expects rather a lot of calls to it this weekend," Jennie said with a grin. "From someone who will now just get the answer phone." "Exactly," George confirmed and gave them the new number. "But I'd rather you didn't use it this weekend. I'll be busy." "What with?" Jeff asked, "With making a baby," Jennie replied to stunned silence except a squeal from her sister. "The Operations Manager can lock up," she said with a grin and dragged George off. Jennie had packed a bag and was taken down to George's village near Sevenoaks in Kent for the first time. She nearly caused George to crash the car from what she did to him while driving. "If you really can't wait then we can pull up at the next lay-by and get into the back seat," he said while struggling to get his erection back into his business pants at 60 MPH. "But I suggest my bedroom is more comfortable, leather seats not withstanding." "You're so conventional," Jennie mock-pouted. "I am a conventional kind of guy," George replied. "And I like my creature comforts." They arrived without further mishaps. The house - a Tudor place with half-timbering, steep pitched roofs and rambling chimneys with original decorative pots - was set at the end of a curved driveway in extensive grounds and looked fabulous in the twilight. Once inside the whole place signalled wealth - and exquisite taste - at a level Jennie had never experienced before. But she was coy. "You can show me the house tomorrow. All I want to see now is the bedroom!" She was naked before they reached the master bedroom upstairs with Jennie's clothes strewn from the hall and up the stairs. And no offense to Jaguar's upholsterers, but the king size water bed was beyond comfortable - it was divine and very suited for what Jennie and George had in mind. They were at it like rabbits all weekend. On Saturday they almost never got dressed at all - cooking and eating practically naked when hunger hit, and otherwise spending most of the day in bed or in the pool. "Just as well the grounds are so private," George chuckled as Jennie made a long run across the lawn and jumped into the pool. "And just as well the gardener never comes on the weekend. The old boy would have a coronary if he saw you!" And then, as Jennie's fantastic breasts broke the water and reappeared in all their glory, he added "But what a way to go..." On Saturday night they finally got dressed and walked hand in hand down to the pub in the village. Unlike so many pubs in the Home Counties that have gone upmarket and lost their soul in the process, this one had retained most of its authenticity and charm - and a good genuine pub kitchen. While actually quite fond of beer, George was not exactly a regular and knew none of the other patrons beyond nodding. But the beauty and approachable nature of his companion meant that when they left some two-three hours later, acquaintanceships, if not yet outright friendships, had been forged and their farewell calls were met with friendly replies. "What a lovely place this is!" Jennie said. George beamed. "Yes, I suppose it is. I feared that you wouldn't want to live here because of, well, you know, me having lived here with Lillian." He trailed off. Where did that come from? He hadn't even asked her if she wanted to live with him and here he was waffling about her not liking the house. Sure, they were playing 'making a baby', but they also both knew that it was only just starting to get 'dangerous' and there were a lot of things they hadn't talked about yet. Jennie was speaking and George resurfaced. "Sorry, say that again." "I said wild horses couldn't drag me away from that house!" Jennie exclaimed. "There are six lovely rooms upstairs that would make excellent nurseries and kids' rooms, and I intend to fill them!" This time it was Jennie's turn to feel self-conscious and worry that she was jumping the gun. But only briefly. Sure, she had been a virgin until Wednesday night, but she was no innocent. A woman knows if a man is just using her for sex or if his feelings run deeper. And she had no doubt about George's intentions. But through the ages women have wanted certainty. So in a sweet almost pearly voice she said "Always assuming you want me to." "I do," George said solemnly. "And I will repeat those two words in any church at any time you so desire. Jennie, will you marry me?" The reply was instant "I will George, I will!" They celebrated in bed. This time Jennie was almost naked before they even got into the house; the light summer frock she had been wearing was discarded on the small bench in the porch and her lacy bra was flung away and landed on the bonnet of the Jag. Wearing only panties and sandals she rushed up the stairs. The sight was so enticing George had trouble getting his pants off. When he entered the bedroom Jennie was down to the high heeled sandals only. She was on her hands and knees, presenting a most inviting visage to George. It turned out 'doggy style' is actually quite difficult on a water-bed. The waves nearly threw them out of the bed and George clung onto Jennie - her boobs, to be exact, for dear life. It was hilarious, but not very effective from a procreational point of view. Chapter 11 On Sunday morning Jennie woke up in the bed alone. Before she could wonder why, George came in with a breakfast tray. Breakfast in a waterbed is also difficult, but he had an ingenious little table that in lieu of legs had a mounting bracket for the bed frame. With much giggling but no mishaps they got it all set up and George back in bed. Jennie was hungry and they ate in relative silence. The breakfast was delicious and Jennie noticed how nice everything had been arranged - there was even a solitary rose in a vase. 'My man's got style' Jennie thought as she studied it. Suddenly she discovered an ancient emerald ring around the stem. "Oh George!" she said. George who had been waiting for her to discover it smiled. "You like?" "I love it!" Jennie said. "It looks very old." "It is," George said. "It was my grandmother's engagement ring. My three sisters all wanted it, but Nan left it to me for this exact purpose." He didn't mention that Lillian had scornfully rejected it 17 years ago. It had been the first indication that perhaps he had been too hasty about that girl, 'Jeez. I was so blind!' he thought. Henry had tried to warn him; it had nearly cost them their friendship, but Henry had backed off and the disaster that was George's marriage to Lillian had gone ahead. But that was all in the past. George felt certain there was no mistake this time. He took the rose out of the vase, retrieved the ring and put in on Jennie's slightly shaking ring-finger. It fit perfectly. When they had finished kissing, George spoke in a slightly teasing voice. "Convention will have it that a man takes his affianced bride to meet the relatives immediately after the proposal. Could you bear the thought of meeting my mother?" "Of course," Jennie smiled. "And likewise, you have to meet Mum. And Dad and Molly." "Happily," George said. "As long as it doesn't stop us from fulfilling the main purpose of this weekend." Jennie looked questioningly at him. "As in?" "As in creating occupants for the nursery," he replied, removed the breakfast table from the bed and leapt onto Jennie. After having told her delighted dad and Molly, Jennie rang her mom. Not on the landline for fear of getting Harold, but on her mum's cell-phone. Vera answered on the seventh ring just as Jennie was going to give up and there was a strange noise in the background. "Hi Mum, it's Jennie. Did I catch you at a bad time?" "Jennie, sweetheart, no that's fine. I'm out of town - the branch manager and his wife invited me down to their cottage on the coast for the Bank Holiday. We're just going for a walk on the beach. It is wonderful here!" "That's lovely Mum. I'm out in the country too, only not much further than Sevenoaks," Jennie said. Jennie's mum had an inspiration "Let me guess - would that be where Mr. Sanders lives?" "Got it in one Mum," Jennie replied. "And how is your Mr. Sanders?" Vera asked. "My Mr. Sanders, who you will have to learn to call George, is very well," Jennie replied. "He looked particularly happy a little while ago when he put an antique engagement ring on my finger after I had accepted his proposal." "Oh Jennie!" her mother exclaimed. "That is so nice to hear. Congratulations to you both. When are you bringing him home so I can meet him?" "As soon as we can do it in a stress-free way," Jennie said - avoiding mentioning her step-father. "Anytime then," Vera said - she got the message. "I've asked Harold to be gone when I get back from the Bank Holiday." "Oh, fine, right," Jennie said. "I'll give you a call when you're back in town then. Bye Mum." "Bye bye darling, and congratulations once more to you both," Vera said happily and ended the call. "That sounded exciting!" Mrs. Willard said - she was immensely sweet but very nosey and her hearing was much better than Vera's. And Vera didn't mind one bit. She liked her branch manager's wife - she was an excellent hostess and had made Vera feel welcome from the moment she arrived. Mrs. Willard had also invited her widowed brother. He was somewhat older than Elaine but very well kept. Vera found the company stimulating. So she happily shared the news with her hosts. "It was my daughter Jennie. She rang to tell me she is engaged to be married!" "That's marvellous Vera dear, congratulations!" Elaine Willard said warmly. "Do you know the lucky young man well?" "No Elaine, I haven't even met him yet," Vera confessed. "And he is not so very young. He is Jennie's boss. He hired her as his personal secretary. He is a bit younger than me, I gather, but quite a lot older than Jennie." "Nothing wrong with getting a man with a bit of experience of the world," Mrs. Willard's brother said in his gruff military voice. Major Harman had retired from the army about a year ago. "Nothing whatever," Vera replied with a smile. George and Jenny went to visit George's mother in a village not very far from their own where she had a charming little house with an incredible garden that seemed to take up all her time. Jennie at first found old Mrs. Sanders dotty but sweet, but over lunch at the restaurant of a National Trust estate nearby Jennie had to revise that assessment. Sweet she certainly was and without question eccentric, but there was nothing dotty about her at all - her mind was razor sharp. "I take it you know about my previous daughter in law," she said point blank when George had absented himself briefly. "I do," Jennie said, "although I have never met her and have no desire to do so. I know a little from George and a lot from his friends of what she put him through." "Indeed," Mrs. Sanders said. "Sins and omissions - the latter is almost the worst." "You mean children?" Jennie guessed aloud. "You are a bright child," Mrs. Sanders said, "in addition to being criminally good looking. Yes, children. George always wanted them." "He shall have them," Jennie said. "And soon. I want a flock." "Do you have many brothers and sisters yourself?" Mrs. Sanders asked. Jennie laughed. "Had you asked me just over a week ago the answer would have been a regretful 'no' - I was an only child - my mother and step-father never gave me siblings." "But?" Mrs. Sanders prompted. "But then George hired a young man who got a shock when he saw me because I looked so much like his girlfriend," Jennie said - still marvelling at the turn of events and enjoying telling story. "And that turned out to be because his girlfriend is my half-sister." "Never!" Mrs. Sanders exclaimed. "Yes, pretty amazing, isn't it?" Jennie said. "And this girl in turn has two younger brothers and two younger sisters. So now we are six who call the same man Dad. That seems like a nice number!" George who had returned and heard the last part of the conversation added "Yes, Jennie counted six potential children's rooms in the house and promised me to put a baby in each." Mrs. Sanders beamed. "That is a lovely plan. I can't wait. I have loads of grandchildren already - 6 with the last addition although 2 of them live in Japan with George's oldest sister and her husband, but there is always room for more." They ate their lunch, saw the stately home and went for a stroll in the extensive park-like garden. Jennie knew next to nothing about gardening but was keen to learn - and George's mother was delighted to share her knowledge with the lovely young woman who was going to marry her only son. "You don't mind that I am so much younger than George, do you?" Jennie asked at one point. "Of course not," Mrs. Sanders replied. "George's father was a lot older than me too. Two months short of 90 he was when he passed away last year. I miss him terribly, but he got a 'pretty good inning' as he said himself. He was a very keen cricket fan you know, just like George." "I hope George will live as long," Jennie said. "I'll tell him he has to hang in at least for our golden wedding anniversary!" They drove Mrs. Sanders home. On arrival they noticed there was a car in her driveway. George parked in the lane and was helping his mother out of the Jaguar when a high-pitched "Uncle George!" was heard and two girls of around 8 and 11 or perhaps 12 came running followed by a woman with a baby in a lift. "Emily and Jessica - my favourite nieces!" George said as he was nearly pushed over by the two girls. "And hullo Leah - nice to see you!" "Hullo Bro," the woman replied - further confirming what Jennie had already suspected from the strong similarity. "Have you been taking Mum out for lunch?" "Yes we have," George started but was cut off by their mother. "Yes he has Leah. Your brother and his affianced bride treated me to lunch and told me their news." "Bride?" the woman and her two daughters said in unison. "Why yes," George said completely unfazed by the commotion "Meet Jennie, love of my life and future mother of my children! Jennie felt a little shy, but Leah made her feel at ease at once. "I am so glad to hear that - and to meet you. And I can see George is serious, or he wouldn't have given you grandma's ring!" "Are you going to have a baby?" Jessica asked, eyeing Jennie. "Jess!" her older sister yelled outraged, but Jennie just smiled. "Yes Jessica, I am. As soon as ever we can. And not just one. Lots. You are going to get a lot of new cousins when your Uncle and I are married." "When are you going to get married?" Emily asked. "We haven't decided yet," George replied. "But we hope you can come. We'll want a lot of flower girls!" That was met by loud excited squeals of delight that woke up the baby in the lift. "Sorry Mum, we didn't mean to wake up Eric," Emily said bashfully. "That's all right," Leah said. "I was hoping he would wake up soon - I am bursting for him to eat!" They sat down in the garden while Leah fed baby Eric. "Where are you hiding Tim?" George asked. Jennie assumed Tim was Leah's husband and that was confirmed by her answer. "He is converting the loft to two lovely new rooms," she said. "He and his brother are putting proper stairs in today and we were practically driven out of the house. The girls will move up there and Eric can have their room when we mange to get him out of our bedroom." "And where will you put number 4?" George teased. "We won't," his sister replied firmly. "We'll leave it to you to have that many - you have the space." "We do, and we will," Jennie said with a grin. "I meant it when I said we were going to have lots." George and Jennie stayed for another hour. George played with the girls and Jennie got to know Leah and Mrs. Sanders better. She felt completely accepted and integrated in the family by the time they left and told George so during the drive home. "Yes, Leah is lovely," he said. "We are very close - also in age; we are what you call 'Irish Twins' - born the same year." "Why so quick a succession? Was that planned?" Jennie asked. "I'm sure it was," George said. "Our two older sisters are actually our half-sisters. Our dad was left a widower with two small girls. He met and married Mum when my sisters were similar in ages to what Emily and Jessica are now. They had Leah very quickly after the wedding and me less than a year after that." "Makes sense," Jennie said. "Indeed," George agreed. "Dad was never a young father - not even to my older sisters, but he was a good father and a very keen father. And luckily he lived to a very old age, so mercifully we got to have him for a long time." "Yes, your mother told me¸" Jennie said. "And you had better live at least as long!" "Well, you keep me young," he said with a pointed look at Jennie's hand that was once more playing with his stiffening dick though his trousers. OK, he was doing no more than 30 MPH on the narrow country lanes, but he still found it hard to concentrate on the driving with Jennie's hand on his dick and her wet tongue in his ear. They arrived home safely though and resumed 'operation making baby' with undiminished vigour. Late afternoon on Monday George received a call from Jeff. "Hi there, sorry to disturb you. I had a text-alert from one of the storage systems. Nothing serious, just one of the fans that had stopped working. Not a problem since everything's redundant and besides I had a spare. But while I was there I just checked the console. We have a 100% success rate at downloading and activating Tina's new version. All our customers will have the shiny new software running when they open for business tomorrow!" "Well, that's great news Jeff," George said. "Were you disturbed while there?" "Do you mean did the phone ring?" Jeff chuckled. "Once or twice. Seems someone from a long way away is very keen to get to talk to you George. Jennie will have a large number of very long answer phone messages to deal with tomorrow..." "I'll warn her. See you around 9," George said and ended the call. Jennie looked at him inquiringly. "Oh nothing," George said. "Jeff says Lillian has filled the tape on the answer phone." "Why doesn't she just enjoy her free holiday?" Jennie said. "She might be getting hungry during the day," George replied with a chuckle. "I am too. Shall we go down to the pub again tonight?" "Let's," Jennie agreed. "But we shan't stay too late. We have some serious baby-making to do. I should be ovulating tomorrow." They got up early Tuesday morning to be able to be at the office at 8.30. Despite having 9.00 as the official opening hour, Jeff, Neil and Tina were there too - slightly tense. Jennie had barely sat down when the phones started to ring. A few of them were customers inquiring about the new version of the software - the clients had been well trained to detect things that looked different and most simply needed reassurance. Jennie handled that. A few had actual questions and were impressed when the pleasant sounding young person assured them that the chief developer would personally guide them through the new features. Tina had a busy morning, but enjoyed talking to customers and basked in the praise. But there was also an amazing number of general inquiries and calls in the company's other main area of business, security consulting. Jennie answered the calls alternating between promising that the Director personally or the Operations Manager or a senior support analyst would look into the problems - improvising that whoever was being asked for was 'unavoidably detained' or similar evasive answers. In between the calls she asked George how it could be that people already knew they were back in business. George grinned. "That's simple. Our web-site was directed to John's domain, but he didn't realise I still controlled our domain. I changed the DNS records back - and locked him out, by the way. And now people get Sanders IT Security homepage again when they ask for it, not his." "And the phones?" Jennie asked. "Same thing," George replied. "John had ordered them to be redirected to his company. I cancelled that, so now we get all the calls to the old numbers." Chapter 12 The morning was so busy that Jennie hadn't had time to play back the messages on the answer phone when the call, as she had mentally labelled it, came. "Sanders IT Security, how can I help you?" Jennie said for God knows what time. She noticed fleetingly from the display that this was a call routed in via George's former cell-phone number. The first time that had happened her heart had leapt, but it had turned out to be one of the really major clients who had George's old personal number. But this was the one. The connection had a lot of static noise, but the female voice came through clearly enough. "I need to talk to George." "Sorry, who is this please?" Jennie asked. "This is Lillian ... Sanders," came the reply. There was a notable pause between the first name and the family name as if Lillian was struggling to say it. "Oh how do you do Ms. Sanders," Jennie said putting emphasis on 'Ms.' rather than 'Mrs.'. "I am sorry, but the Director is not available." The Director was actually passing through the front office with Jeff and Neil at that very moment. Jennie made an arresting motion with her hand and switched on the loudspeaker. "What do you mean he's 'not available'?" came Lillian's petulant voice. "The Director is in an important meeting with the Operations Manager and the senior support analyst over a complex technical issue," Jennie said - her reply perfectly delivered to show great patience with an unreasonable person. Jeff grinned silently. The 'complex technical issue' was actually working out the coffee brewer since Jennie - for once - had had no time to do that for them. "What are you talking about? I thought George said there was next to no activity in that company of his, who are those people?" Lillian asked, "And who are you?" "I am Jennifer Stewart-O'Brien, business manager in Sanders IT Security and personal secretary to Mr. Sanders," Jennie replied. "I believe you know Mr. McKay quite well. Mr. Heeley, our Operations Manager has joined the company after your time." Lillian was in shock. If the 'bloody scot' was back with George and he was hiring other people then things must be happening. She struggled to refocus on the purpose of the call. "Well, never mind that. I need to talk to George because there seems to be some difficulties with my credit cards and cell-phone," she said trying to make this catastrophe sound like a minor clerical error that could be fixed. "As I said, the Director is unavailable," Jennie repeated. "What seems to be the problem?" "They don't work, do they?" Lillian spat out - all the refinement gone. "We're stuck 5 time zones away on a bloody island with no money and no phone." "I assume you're referring to the company credit cards and cell phones issued to you and Mr. Brown?" Jennie said. "They were closed end of business on Friday since neither of you have any involvement with the company any more. You can hand back the handsets at your convenience." "My personal credit card is also blocked," Lillian said - despair now clear in her voice. "If you are referring to the Visa card issued from Mr. Sander's personal account, yes, that was closed end of business Friday too - once I had received notification from your new bank that the 1.8 million pounds in the divorce settlement had been received," Jennie said. The three men found it difficult to keep their giggles silent. Tina had joined them and was enjoying the show too. "What am I to do?" Lillian said. "We're stuck here for 3 weeks with no money!" "I am not in a position to advise you Ms. Sanders," Jennie said. "But surely your bank can help you - you should have a rather substantial credit with them after the transfer. Why don't you call them?" "I did!" Lillian said. "Do you consider me a complete idiot? They said they were happy to issue a Credit Card - if I made an application in person. And they will not wire any of the money to me abroad since I am a new customer and they don't know me personally. Anti-terror laws prohibit it." George moved two fingers across his throat in a theatrical gesture. Jennie nodded with a huge grin and went for the kill. "It would inappropriate of me to say what I consider you," Jennie said in a tone that made her position on that subject quite clear. "As to your monetary problems, I sympathize but I cannot help you. I suggest you try to get the airline to change your flight home - downgrading from business class may cover the rebooking fee. And meanwhile, eat well in the mornings. As I recall, the luxury holiday for yourself and your lover that you made your ex-husband pay for includes breakfast. Good afternoon to you, Ms. Sanders. The breakfast buffet opens in only 15 or 16 hours." She broke off the call and mayhem broke out in the front office. They were laughing so hard they had tears streaming down their faces. "Oh, that was glorious Jennie," Jeff said when he was finally coherent enough to speak. "Aye, that besom got what she deserved," Neil said, his huge frame still shaking from bouts of chuckles. "Well," Jennie said, "as my self-defence teacher always said: Don't get angry, get even!" Tina was studying George who was looking at Jennie with such love and admiration. Tina had also noticed the ring on Jennie's finger. She felt a small twinge of regret. She had more than once toyed with the idea of making a hit on George. It was patently obvious that she was now too late. Around 1PM Tina, Jeff and Neil gathered in the front office to go out for lunch. "The boss was vara busy just noo, and told us to go ahead. Are ye comin wi us lassie?" Neil asked. "No, I'll wait for George," Jennie said. "That's OK - on a day like this we need to take turns." When her colleagues had left, Jennie walked into George's office. He was just finishing a phone call and looked up with a smile. "Did you need anything?" "Yes," Jennie said, kicked off her shoes and took off her skirt and panties. "Your sperm. I've just felt Mittelschmerz." George looked puzzled. "Ovulation pain," Jennie explained. "Shoot now and you will be a father-in-the-making within the hour. Guaranteed. Twins even - I feel it in both sides." "Jennie, we can't - what if one of the others walked in?" George said - at the same time getting highly aroused. "They won't," Jennie said. "They've just gone out for lunch." "But they might come back, or someone else might call?" George protested as Jennie started working on his belt. "You're so conventional," Jennie mock-pouted. "I am a conventional kind of guy," George replied. "Haven't we had this conversation before?" "Yes we have, so I predicted your protests," Jennie smiled. "All doors are locked, the access-system is disabled and all lines are being routed to the answer phone. I want you babies and I want them now." "It's a hard life," George sighed as Jennie liberated his straining dick from his suit pants. "It is not only life that is hard," Jennie said and gave George's dick a long wet lick. "Mmmm. Anyway, better stop this. Lubrication is not needed, I promise you - and I want your sperm as deep in my pussy as you can get it, not in my mouth" She mounted him and no, no further lubrication was needed for him to slide his considerable length and girth into her. "The main purpose is breeding," she said with a gasp while bobbing up and down. "So if you need some extra visual stimulation to get off quick..." she trailed off as she pulled her blouse over her head and flung it away, revealing she had previously discarded her bra too. What she had meant was he needn't worry about her having an orgasm too - all she wanted was his sperm, but his dick in her pussy felt so good, the whole situation was so exciting - and when his lips closed around first one then her other ultra sensitive nipple Jennie surprised herself in exploding in a massive climax that just went on and on and on. When she finally thought she was coming down from the plateau she felt the wet heat in her pussy from George's copious ejaculate - and her orgasm returned even stronger. When the tremors eventually subsided she was like a limp rag-doll - stark naked and almost sprawled over George who was still sitting almost fully dressed in his office chair. "Wow," George finally said. "I should have had a personal assistant a long time ago. This sure beats going out to lunch!" "Oh no, you don't get off that easy," Jennie chided him. She got off of him and started getting dressed as methodically as she had undressed. "Don't you know expecting mothers need to eat well? You're taking me out to lunch now." "Very well," he said and got up to bring his clothes in order. "A pity you have to put it away," Jennie said - eyeing George's dick that even in its flaccid state was substantial. "I should lick it clean, but then you will never be able to put it away." "Oh well, there's always tonight," George replied. "Indeed," Jennie smiled. "Oh, and while I retrieve my bra and fix my makeup, you had better air the room out a bit. Tina can smell sex from a mile away and I'm sure this office reeks!" George grinned and complied. They met up in the front office. Jennie reactivated the access system and they went to the lift. "Have you got any particular cravings yet?" George asked lightly. "Just you," Jennie replied. "But for lunch I'll settle for Italian." They met the others just outside the building. "Good timing," Jeff said. "Very," Jennie replied with a saucy grin, grabbed George by the hand and dragged him off before questions could be asked, During a brief lull mid-afternoon they gathered for a quick conference. "We need more staff," Jeff said. "I'm already in deep water. In some cases I have no idea what people are asking me about!" "Aye," Neil added. "I've promised to doo more than one mon could possibly handle. Forbye, I'm not as young as I was!" "Rubbish," Tina said. "You are stronger than any of us. But I agree with Jeff. He is a good Operations Manager and I am a terrific developer, but I'm sure we're lousy consultants. And Neil can't handle it all - even with your help George." "Well, it was always the plan to asses the demand and hire more people as required," George replied. "It has gone much quicker than I expected and I agree we need two or three analysts now - and another developer or two. Tina can't maintain the code base, plan new features and develop customized solutions all at once." "So who you gonna call?" Jeff joked. "Joe, Paul and Anthony," Neil replied without hesitation. George nodded. They were good analysts and, as far as he knew, not Lillian's former lovers any of them. "Tina?" he queried. "Yeah, OK," she shrugged. "I don't like Paul much, but I suppose he is good with some of the stuffy customers and he won't be doing code, so we shan't see each other much." "No, nor will he. But what I meant was who do you want for development?" George prodded. "Lisa and Terry," she replied after a pause. "Not Dennis?" George asked. "No, he left and has a very good job elsewhere. I don't think we can lure him back," Tina replied. "What about Phil?" George asked. "Never in a million years!" Tina spat. Neil was muttering something under his breath that sounded rude in the extreme. "As in?" George prompted. He had long had a suspicion about Phil Cleary - not in connection with Lillian mind, but still he had wondered about his honesty. "As in him being that little prick that helped John mastermind the transfer and kept filling us with hogwash about everything being OK with you since you had practically retired and left the business for John to run," Tina started. "Right up until last week he was still trying to crack the loader encryption." "Come, he should know better than that. AES256 is not something you crack with brute force in the lifetime of this universe," George said in disbelief. "Oh, he knows that," Tina said, "but he was certain that the password was weak, so he launched the mother of all dictionary attacks on it. Some of the tools he downloaded from questionable sources were so full of malware and back doors and what have you that our perimeter protection lit up like a Christmas tree. He ran it in a virtual environment with no external connections and he and John were joking they would have to burn the hard drives afterwards." "So it's Joe, Paul, Anthony, Lisa and Terry?" George summed up, Tina and Neil nodded. "Ok, call them!" George said. "Offer them their present salary plus 10%" "And if they won't come?" Tina asked. "I mean, I'm pretty sure the developers would come, but the consultants are more, shall we say, diverse." Neil was nodding agreement. "Tell them that John's operation is moribund," George replied. "If that still doesn't help then tell the CCIEs that I own their certifications. If they leave me they cannot work as CCIEs for a year and a day - I can block them." "Would you do that?" Tina asked. "No, I wouldn't," George replied. "That's why I'm asking you to suggest it!" Neil laughed, but Tina looked sceptical. "Would you really let that little shit Phil get off the hook? and John?" George looked straight at her. "Phil will run foul of the ethics rules sometime soon. No need for me to get involved there. As to John, if I recall he let his CCIE lapse because he was doing so much admin stuff. And I am sure his name is poison. As a recent bankrupt he is precluded from starting on his own unless someone else finances it. So no, I'd rather just forget he existed. I don't need him in my life," "No, your life seems to have found a different direction," Tina said, leaned over end removed a few strands of long red hair from George's grey suit jacket. "A much better direction." Chapter 13 While this conversation took place Vera Banks was on her way home from work - she was still only working part time and on Tuesday she got off mid-afternoon. She had been driven back from the coast last night not by her branch manager and his wife but by Major Harman, or Cedric as he had urged her to call him. He had escorted her to the door but then withdrawn as they couldn't be sure Harold had left and he 'didn't want to cause any unpleasantness,' as he put it in his gruff voice that was remarkably easy for Vera to hear. Vera felt slightly regretful that she couldn't invite him in, but didn't want to risk a confrontation with Harold either. And once inside, she was relieved she hadn't done so as the air in the house felt very stuffy and there was an unpleasant odour. She put it down to the unusually hot weekend and opened several windows wide. There was no sign of Harold and she went to bed almost at once. She fell asleep and had a very pleasant dream about Cedric - her first sexually explicit dream in years. The next morning the smell was still there, so she left a few windows open on security latches and decided to do a proper cleanup of the house when she got home mid afternoon - if the smell hadn't dissipated. When she opened the door a little before 3PM she realised at once it hadn't. On the contrary, it was worse than ever - sickly sweet and pungent and she saw, rather than heard, large flies on the landing upstairs outside the guest room. She walked upstairs and with some trepidation knocked on the door. "Harold?" she called. "Are you there?" There was no answer. So she opened the door and was nearly overcome by the smell. She looked straight into a pair of shoes partly covered by some vile mass of human faeces seeping out from the trousers' legs. Flies were swarming around them and her brain realised what she was seeing. She let out a piercing scream of terror and started vomiting helplessly. Harold was there all right, but way beyond this world. He had opened the hatch to the attic, crawled up there and attached a rope with a noose to a roof beam and let himself drop. It was fairly competently done, the Coroner later remarked - the drop being long enough to ensure instant death rather than the prolonged pitiful strangling that is so frequent in suicide by hanging Vera Banks was incoherent and hysterical when she got through to Jennie's cell-phone. At first Jennie didn't understand what her mother was saying, and then when the awful facts filtered through she was herself numbed with revulsion and didn't know what to do or say. George saved her. He was coming out to ask her something or other, saw her shocked facial expression and rushed over. "Jennie my love, what is wrong?" he asked. "It's Mum," Jennie cried. "She has just found my step-father. He has hanged himself." One of George many qualities - surely one that had proved invaluable both as a businessman and as the devoted husband of a critically ill wife, no matter how unfaithful - was his ability to remain calm in a crisis. He took Jennie's handset and spoke in his even, reassuring voice. "Mrs. Banks, this is George Sanders - Jennie's fiancé. Have you called the police?" "No," Vera Banks got out between the sobs. "I've only just discovered him. It's so horrible. He must have been hanging there while I slept!" She started to say something more, but George interrupted her. "Mrs. Banks. Listen to me. Is he inside the house?" "Yes he is," Vera managed to say. "Upstairs." "And you are sure he is dead?" George asked. "Yes," Vera said. "He's - starting to decompose..." she trailed off, fighting back another bout of nausea. "OK," George said. "Go outside and lock the door. Do not open for anyone except the police. I will call them and inform them. Jennie and I will come as quickly as traffic permits." He hung up and returned the phone to Jennie. "Get me the police on the line." While Jennie placed the call, George typed in a number on his own cell-phone. It was answered second ring by a cheerful "Hi George, what's up?" "Henry, we have a class Triple-A Plus emergency. Jennie and I will pick you up at the front of your chambers in 8-10 minutes max. Be there!" George said. "What's happening?" Henry asked - not unreasonably. "I'll tell you in the car," George said. "Must rush - gotta talk to the police on the other phone," and he disconnected. In brief and concise terms George explained the situation to the dispatch officer. "No, I have not personally seen the body, but my fiancée's mother assures me that from the smell alone there can be no doubt he is dead." The officer concluded that it was then hardly an emergency and sirens would be unnecessary. "Indeed not," George agreed. "My fiancée and I will come to the address as quickly as possible. I have urged my mother-in-law-to-be to go outside and admit no one but the police." "Sound advice sir," the despatch officer said. "We have access to paramedics specialising in mental health. I'll see if one of them is available. If we cannot help the man then at least we can comfort his poor wife." Henry was waiting when George and Jennie arrived on screeching tires outside his chambers some 10 minutes later. "Hi I'm Henry. You must be Jennie and I am delighted to meet you," he said as he got in the back seat. When he had barely closed the door and before he could even start looking for his seat belt, George floored the accelerator and the Jaguar leapt forward into traffic, pressing Henry back into the seat. He hastily go himself strapped in. "This is not quite how I had envisaged meeting your young lady George," he said reproachfully. "My fiancée - we got engaged on the weekend," George said, "but we'll save with the niceties for later." "What is going on?" Henry asked. "Jennie's mother has just found her estranged husband - Jennie's stepfather - hanging in their house," George said. "She got back from the coast last night but only discovered him a little while ago when she returned from work." "Hanging, as in having hanged himself?" Henry asked "Yes," George said. "She was hysterical when she phoned Jennie. I have told her to go outside and alerted the police. They might already be there when we get there." "If not then they will be trailing us the way you're driving!" Henry muttered as George once more took the 'big cat' to its limits. Jennie heard, and despite of her anxiety smiled. "What do we know about the reason?" Henry asked - he was somewhat out of his depth. He knew a lot about Harold Banks, but he was not sure Jennie was aware that George had asked him to do a background check and thus how much he could let on. As always George defused the situation with his uncompromising honesty. "Well, as we all know Jennie's step-father was in financial troubles over his gambling." Turning to Jennie, he said "I had Henry do a background check. You will appreciate that has to do be done in our line of business." "Sure," Jennie replied. "I expected as much. Are you doing one on Jeff too?" "We did," Henry said. "He came up as clean as you did. I'm not supposed to tell you this, of course, but since you're getting married to George he would tell you anyway!" "Dangerous - I might tell my sister you know," Jennie said teasingly. "She is going out with Jeff." "Your sister?" Henry said. "Oh, I get you - the oldest Ms. O'Brien." "You knew about her?" George said astonished. "Sure did - and so would you if you had read the report!" Henry replied drily. "I was satisfied with the Executive Summary," George said, then made another highly original manoeuvre that had Jennie and Henry cling on to whatever they could find. "Anyway," George continued. "What you cannot know is that here was a confrontation between Mrs. and Mr. Banks. Mrs. Banks had learnt of her husband's abuse of his stepdaughter - Jennie - and was going to be seeking a divorce and selling the house. She was away with friends for the Bank Holiday and had asked him to leave the house by the time she got back." "OK," Henry said. "If you don't mind me saying so Jennie, it seems he was a pest and a good riddance. Now let's see what we can do for your mother." Despite George's driving, they only arrived when the emergency services were already carrying Harold Banks out in a sealed bag. A young paramedic was attending to Vera who has in a complete state of shock, sitting on the door step rocking forth and back with her arms tightly around her knees. Despite the location and the time of day, there were quite a few people gathered. A policeman who was keeping the crowd away took steps to block Jennie, George and Henry, but when Jennie cried "Mum!" he was quick-witted and ensured their passage instead. Jennie rushed over to her mother while George and Henry spoke with the policeman. "I'm George Sanders," George said. "I am engaged to be married to Mrs. Banks' daughter." "My condolences sir," the policeman said. "Thank you officer," George replied. "This gentleman is Henry Whitman, our family solicitor." "Sir." The policeman nodded respectfully. "We have not been able to get much sense out of poor Mrs. Banks. Can you tell us more abut the deceased?" "I can give you a full statement later," Henry said, "but the gist of the circumstances is as follows: Mr. Banks was in financial difficulties over gambling. Mrs. Banks had asked Mr. Banks to move out and spent the Bank Holiday with friends. She arrived home late last night, went to work this morning, only discovering him this afternoon when she came home." "Do you know what time she came back last night?" the policeman asked. Henry looked at George. "Do you?" "No, we don't," George replied. "We will have to ask her." "Well, not that it matters much," the policeman said. "According to the doctor Mr. Banks must have hanged himself on Saturday. It was a very warm weekend." He shuddered. "So it was," George agreed. "Can't have been pleasant." "No, the smell is unbelievable," the policeman said. "Anyway, to summarise: Mr. Banks was in financial and marital trouble. If I could ask you to submit your information to the Coroner then he may be able to settle the matter without an inquest - it seems to be a clear case of suicide." "I will," Henry said. "If we can spare Mrs. Banks and her daughter further pain we shall." "No need to mention his abusive behaviour," George said quietly as they walked over to Jennie and Vera, "None whatever," Henry agreed. "And don't worry about the business side; I'll pick up the tab, OK?" George said, Henry just nodded. George was a funny old fish sometimes. Henry would never charge him for something like this. Between them Jennie and the paramedic - a cute girl with dirty blond hair, not much older than Jennie but with a quiet competence someone twice her age would envy - had managed to calm Vera. "Mum, this is George," Jennie said. "I'm glad to meet you Mrs. Banks," George said. "I only wish the circumstances were different." Vera nodded, but didn't say anything. "This is my close friend and solicitor Henry Whitman," George continued. "I do not know if you have your own legal man, but if not Henry will be happy to help you - there are a lot of things that need to be taken care of in situations like this." Vera shook her head, "No we, I, I don't know any lawyers, and I have never..." she trailed off. Henry eyed Vera. In his experience people in her situation were incapable of much in the way of decision-making. "Don't worry about that Mrs. Banks. I will take care of as many of the practical issues as possible," he said Vera looked at him gratefully and nodded. "Thank you, yes, I..." she trailed off again. "I need to get hold of your late husband's employers - and your own. Would Jennie have that information?" Jennie nodded. "I have Mum's work phone number; they may just still be there." She gave Henry the number. "Thanks," he said. "And your step-father's work place?" Jennie shook her head. "No, I don't." She turned to her mother. "Mum, do you have Harold's work number?" Vera shook her head. "It's on the notice board next to the phone inside. But I don't. I can't. I won't go in there again..." she started sobbing again "You don't have to," George said gently. "I'll go looking for it." He found it quickly which was a mercy; the smell in the house was still quite bad even though the source had been removed and the emergency service people had sprayed the guest room with a powerful deodorising disinfectant. He came back out and handed the number to Henry, then turned to the women. Vera had once more resumed hugging her legs and rocking forth and back. She was saying something quite incomprehensible; something about someone called 'Cedric'. Henry called Vera's employers first and got put through to her branch manager - and host for the past weekend - at once. The conversation was brief and dignified. Mr. Willard was shocked to hear the news, sent a personal message of comfort to Vera and certainly would not expect her at work for the rest of this week, At Harold's insurance company, Henry asked for the HR manager. "My name is Henry Whitman; I am calling regarding one of your employees, Harold Banks. I am the family's solicitor." "Oh," the HR manager said. "Yes, we were wondering what had happened to him - he didn't show up for work today, he hasn't reported in sick, and there was no answer when we telephoned. His group manager says that is very unusual. He has also noticed Mr. Banks has seemed nervous or depressed recently, so I was planning to call him in for a little chat." Obviously Harold's firm cared about its employees. "Admirable, but sadly too late," Henry said. "I am afraid I have some very bad news. It would appear Mr. Banks has committed suicide. Poor Mrs. Banks found him." "How shocking!" the HR manager said. "The poor woman. What happened?" Henry briefly explained the circumstances, leaving out the estrangement and only explaining that Vera had been with the family of a colleague over the Bank Holliday. "If there is anything we can do for Mrs. Banks, do please let us know," the HR manager said. "We have access to 24 hour psychological support services for our staff and their relatives in case of crises." "That is very kind of you," Henry said. "Mrs. Banks is being cared for by her daughter and affianced son-in-law, but I'll keep it in mind." "Please do. In case of death, the offer extends for a year," the man said. "If at anytime she should feel the need to talk to a psychologist, we can arrange it for her." "Excellent," Henry said. "Listen, I will send you my contact information so we can deal with whatever paperwork there is, but here and now I need to know if Mr. Banks had a life insurance policy through the firm, if it is still valid despite this being a case of suicide, and if there will be a pension for Mrs. Banks." "It is three times yes," the HR manager said. "All our employees have life insurance coverage and suicide does not invalidate it. Our company prides itself of having pioneered a more enlightened view on mental illness. Invalidating the life insurance has never stopped a single person from taking their own life. But our research suggests such conditions have made people suicide in a way where it couldn't be proved it was suicide. Often involving motorcars, and often causing innocent people to be killed too." "So Mrs. Banks should receive the pay-out?" Henry asked. "Absolutely," the HR manager said. "Mr. Banks was covered by a policy that provides a lump sum for his widow. Additionally, it has 'mortgage coverage' which means that any mortgage in his primary home will be paid out in full. And Mrs. Banks will receive a widow's pension. You should be able to assure her that in the midst of her sorrow, she will not also have financial difficulties." "Thank you very much - that is a big comfort," Henry said. "Not at all Mr. Whitman," the HR manager said. "Please convey our sincere condolences to Mrs. Banks. I would appreciate it if you notified us regarding the funeral arrangements. We would like to be able to pay our last respects." Henry readily promised that and ended the call. 'Well, well, well,' he thought, 'whatever faults Harold Banks had, he was not unappreciated as an employee.' Chapter 14 So the news Henry had for Vera was good, but she was in no fit state to appreciate it. When Henry returned to the gathering on the steps, the young paramedic had just decided it was getting out of hand, conferred briefly with a doctor over the phone and prepared an injection of a sedative. As she was swiping Vera's upper arm with an antiseptic, Vera suddenly spoke clearly and coherently. "No, I don't want that. And I don't want to go back in that house. And I am not coming home with you Jennie. I want Cedric." "Who is Cedric?" Henry asked. Jennie, George and the paramedic has asked the same question several times and gotten no sensible answer, but for Henry it worked. "Cedric - Major Cedric Harman - is Mrs. Willard's brother," Vera said. "We spent the weekend together. He drove me home last night. I didn't invite him in because we feared Harold might still be there." Then she added so quietly they could barely hear it "Well, he was too." "Do you have his number Mum?" Jennie asked. Her emotions were mixed. She was glad her mother was taking an interest in this Major Harman, whoever he was, but concerned he would be impossible to find and uninterested or unavailable if they did find him. Vera shook her head, but George was unfazed. "There can't be too many Major Cedric Harmans - of course we can find him." "Indeed," Henry said - I'll get my secretary on to it straight away. If that fails I'll try Mr. Willard again." He dialled a number. "Deidre my dear, I need the number of one Major Cedric Harman and I need it now." "Not a problem Henry," his devoted secretary said. "I'll send the contact to your Blackberry." "You mean you know him?" Henry said. He was used to Deidre being efficient, but this took the cake. "Sure I do," Deidre replied. "He is one of old Joe's clients." "Well, I never!" Henry said. "Thanks heaps - the contact info just arrived. You are a marvel." "Always happy to assist," Deidre laughed. "As long as you don't try to poach old Joe's clients?" "Nothing of the sort," Henry said. "This is personal." "Fine," Deidre said. "Speaking of personal, Annie rang and asked after you. Said your cell phone kept being engaged." "It was too," Henry said. "Mad afternoon. Will you be a dear and ring her to say I might be late? Oh, and do find me the number for one of those companies that clean up houses where someone has died." "Shall do," Deidre said. "I am sure I don't want to know the details though. Ugh." And she ended the call. Henry gave the thumbs up and dialled Major Harman's number without really having any idea of what to say. It turned out to be remarkably easy though. "Harman," a gruff voice answered on the second ring. "Good afternoon Major Harman," Henry started. "This is Henry Whitman, partner in Sir Joseph Blackburn's chambers." "How do you do Mr. Whitman," the Major said, still in his gruff military voice. "What can I do for you?" Relieved that this introduction had worked, Henry when straight to the matter at hand. "I believe you are an acquaintance of one of my clients, a Mrs. Vera Banks?" "Indeed I am," the Major said - his voice notably softer. "I trust Mrs. Banks is well?" "No Major Harman, she is not," Henry said bluntly. "Mrs. Banks found her estranged husband dead this afternoon. He has hanged himself in their house." "Bloody coward," the Major observed. "How shocking for the poor woman. Is there anything I can do?" "Yes there is," Henry said - now certain that directness was the right way of dealing with Major Harman. "That is why I am calling. Mrs. Banks is severely affected by the shock. Her daughter and her daughter's fiancé are here and have offered to take her home with them as she does not want to re-enter the house, but Mrs. Banks asks after you." "Tell Vera I shall be right over," Major Harman said without hesitation. "Of course she should not go back in the house. Ask her daughter to pack clothes and what not for at least a week." "I shall tell her that Major Harman," Henry said - highly relived it has gone so well. "How far away do you live? I mean, when can we expect you?" "I live in Wimbledon. It could take up to an hour with traffic the way it is," the Major said. "Not a problem Major Harman," Henry said cheerfully. "We'll just wait in the garden. It's a lovely day." Henry returned. "OK Mrs. Banks. I got good news, better news and fabulous news." This highly unorthodox opening from a lawyer made Vera - not to mention George, Jennie and the paramedic - look up. Basking in the attention of his 'audience', Henry proceeded to make good the statement. "For starters, Harold had a life-insurance that provides a lump sum and pays out the mortgage in the house. Secondly you are entitled to a widow's pension from Harold’s company and should thus be fairly financially comfortable. And best of all, Major Harman is on his way. He will be here within the hour and take you away from the house. He asked that Jennie pack a suitcase for you." The change in Vera was remarkable. From looking haggard and drawn, she changed completely. 'She looks positively glowing!' Jennie thought. 'Whoever this Cedric is, he seems to be just what Mum needs'. The paramedic had reached a similar conclusion and got up. "No more need for me here," she said cheerfully. "I'll get a lift with the policeman back to the station." After the removal of Harold's body, the crowd had dispersed and the policeman was ready to drive off. "Well goodbye Mrs. Banks," the paramedic said. "I hope you will get everything sorted out." "Thank you my dear," Vera replied. "And thank you for your company. It was a great comfort." When the police car had left Henry looked at Jennie. "I am afraid you have a job to do that I can't help you with. Are you up to it?" "Sure," Jennie said, although she felt anything but. She got up. "I'll help you out," George said. "You find the stuff and I pack it. In that way it will be over quickly." Jennie kissed him. "Mum, is there anything particular you want?" "The Laura Ashley set would be nice my dear," Vera replied. "Otherwise just nice summery things." Jennie braced herself, but the smell was not as bad as she had feared - at least not downstairs. George retrieved Vera's handbag and her cell-phone charger from the kitchen and then followed Jennie upstairs. Outside the guest room the air was still very pungent, but once inside Vera's bedroom it was hardly noticeable - the scent from a number of potpourri bowls masking out any unpleasant smell. There was a large sturdy suitcase under the bed and within 10-12 minutes they had filled it with clothes. Jennie retrieved her mother's toiletries from the bathroom. "Does your mother take any regular medicines?" George asked. Jennie shook her head. "Not that I know of. This will have to do. If she needs anything else we can go back, or she can buy it." Major Harman's driving can't have left George's much behind. His immaculately kept Rover arrived outside the house less than 45 minutes after Henry had called. He bee-lined for Mrs. Banks. "Vera my dear, how absolutely shocking. I blame myself for not checking that the house was secure last night. Pray forgive me." "Oh Cedric, you mustn't," Vera said. She clung to the outstretched hand, but she seemed much calmer. The relief of having Major Harman there was almost palpable. Her obvious reluctance to let go of Major Harman's hand reminded Jennie of herself and George two weeks ago. 'Two weeks - it feels much longer,' she thought. 'I wonder if Mum has been struck the same way I was. He does look nice.' Vera was incapable of effecting introductions so Major Harman handled that himself. "You must be Jennie," he said. "I am Cedric Harman - brother in law of your mother's branch manager." Jennie shook the proffered hand. His handshake felt firm and confidence-inspiring. "How do you do Major Harman," she said. Cedric turned to George. "And you must be the lucky young man who is marrying Jennie?" George nodded eagerly. "That's right sir," he said. "My name is George Sanders." "Sanders, 'eh?" Cedric said. "Relative of Mr. Theodore Sanders formerly of the MOD?" "That was my father sir," George said astonished. "You knew him?" "Indeed," Cedric said. "As a young officer I was seconded to the MOD. Your father was the only civil servant I've ever met that really understood the army. Your father is no longer with us?" "No sir," George said. "He passed away last year - he was nearly 90, but in very good health and spirits until the end. He died in his sleep." "A venerable age," Cedric said. "And an excellent way to go. The rest of us can only wish for something similar. Anyway, I will abduct your mother-in-law. Vera my dear, let's roll," he said and grabbed her handbag and light coat. While Vera and Jennie hugged and said their farewells, George and Henry carried the suitcase to the car. Henry put it in the boot and turned to Cedric. "If you need me for anything Major Harman then give me a call - all my numbers are on this card," he said and handed over a business card. "But frankly, I think you are all Mrs. Banks needs - to help her forget the lout she was married to. I agree suicide is the coward's way out, but he has at least spared her a divorce - and she will walk away with the house debt-free." George took over. "I agree with Henry completely. It is not too late for her to have a happy life. I'll help Jennie sort things out - she is a sweet, loving and forgiving kid and I am sure she is more than willing to include her mother in her life; it's really all up to you." Major Harman shook Henry's hand. "I can see why Sir Joseph Blackburn made you a partner in his chambers," then turned to George, "and I understand completely why Jennie would fall for someone like you. Thank you for your trust; I shan't abuse it." Cedric's small house in Wimbledon was immaculate - from the well-tended garden to the tasteful interior. It was very much a bachelor's house; Mrs. Harman had died young and Cedric had only bought the house when he retired after living in army barracks all his life. He did have a double bed, but in line with his upbringing he naturally took Vera's suitcase to the guest room. "I am sorry I didn't have time to make up the bed," he said. "I wanted to come as quickly as I could." Vera looked at him and made up her mind. "It's kind and very correct of you Cedric, but let's not waste time on formalities. I don't want to sleep here. I want to sleep in your bed." A small smile formed on Cedric Harman's lips. "You are absolutely right, Vera. Let other people worry about formalities." He picked up the suitcase and carried it to the master bedroom. Vera followed him. It was hours before they left it again. Chapter 15 Jennie and George dropped off Henry at his chambers, then drove home to Kent to resume the baby-making. "I'm fairly certain we've done the deed already," Jennie said, "but let's just be absolutely certain." "You don't think today's events are too upsetting?" George asked while undressing "No way!" Jennie said while unclasping her bra. "If Mum had been crushed about it - then perhaps. But it really felt like some evil dream finally ended." George laughed. "Yes, your mother seemed quite content - once Major Harman showed up." "How old is he do you think?" Jennie asked, dropping her panties and flinging herself on the bed. "If he retired a year ago then he would be around 56," George said. "Very well kept!" he added - while providing visual proof to Jennie he was too, "Do you think they will, you know," Jennie suddenly blushed like a school girl. George smiled. "I hope for both of them they'll shag themselves senseless." He removed his boxers with some difficulty. "George!" Jennies squealed. "That's my MOTHER you're talking about." "Yes," George said. "And in 17 years I will be 56 - and I certainly intend to be still shagging you senseless then. Our teenaged children will just have to live with the fact." He entered her and established a fast rhythm. "If we're open about sex then they won't worry. If they learn early that the noises are OK and Mummy howling is a good thing then they shan't be embarrassed about it." Jennie didn't answer. She was howling out an earth-shattering orgasm. On the third repeat George came too. Henry parked the car in the school yard. It was fairly full. The lights had already been dimmed when he entered the hall, but he found Annie and the two youngest easily - three heads of flaxen blond curls were easy to spot on the front row. He lifted up Leah - their 2½ year old youngest, named after George's sister, her god mother - sat down and placed her on his lap. He put his arm around Annie, kissed her tenderly and patted 5 year old Lisa on the head. Before either of them could say anything the curtains went up. 7 year old Alex - short for Alexandra - was in a grumpy mood. Daddy hadn't showed up for the play! Where's the fun in having a lead roll in the school play if your daddy isn't there to see it? Mummy said Deidre had called to say Daddy would be late. Alex knew 'late'. It usually meant he wouldn't come at all. She glared at her mother and siblings on the first row and nearly forgot her opening lines when she spotted Daddy with Leah on his lap and an arm around Mummy. She smiled a smile that lit up the entire hall and launched into the play with gusto. When the applause had finally ended, Alex came running down. "Daddy! You made it home! Deidre said you would be late!" "I was late," Henry said. "I only got in moments before you started, but I saw it all. You were brilliant." "Why were you so late Daddy?" Lisa asked. "I had to help Uncle George," Henry said. "He is getting married to a very nice girl called Jennie and Jennie's stepfather had suddenly died." "Oh," Alex said. "Were Jennie and her mum very upset?" Henry hesitated. "No," he finally said. "They weren't." 'Well, they were upset about finding him but I shan't tell them that,' he thought. Annie in particular, but also Alex and Lisa, looked stunned. Only Leah didn't care. She was fast asleep in Henry's arms. "Well, he was an evil stepfather, so they are not really sad," Henry said. The girls took that at face value - their Fairy Tale books were positively swarming with evil step-parents. Annie looked like one big question mark though. "I'll tell you later," Henry mouthed as they walked out of the hall towards the car. They only had a brief drive home; Annie had walked over with the girls. "So how is the future Mrs. Sanders?" Annie asked when they had put the girls to bed. "Very nice," Henry said. "A real honey. She has a strong superficial likeness to Lillian, only, ahem, bigger" - he made a hand gesture in front of his chest - "but she is everything Lillian is not: George is completely over the moon." "Is she much younger than him?" Annie asked. She was herself 7 years younger than Henry - she was a distant relative of George's and had met Henry at George and Lillian's wedding when she was still a school girl of 17. But it had been love at first sight and Henry had patiently broken down her family's reservations and finally married her when she had finished school and her education. "Very," Henry replied. "She'll be 22 in autumn." "Oh," Annie said. "So they will want kids?" "I should think so," Henry said. "George always wanted them." Annie nodded. She had never liked Lillian much. And Lillian had been outright unpleasant about Henry and Annie having babies. But she loved her third cousin. It would be so good for George to have kids at last. Perhaps she could talk Henry into having one more. She knew that he would like to have a boy - even though he doted on his 'three little princesses' as he called them. She had only just gone back on the pill after having weaned Leah: Towards the end she thought Henry was getting as much from her as Leah was; this particular kink - if you could call it that - had spiced up their sex life ever since Alex was a baby. The first time they had made love after Alex was born Annie's breasts had started spraying milk as she came. Rather than being turned off or revolted, Henry had gently suckled her - sending her off to new highs. She got all wet just thinking about it. She snapped back to the present. "What's this 'evil stepfather' thing?" she asked. "Well, I know he was a compulsive gambler and had squandered away all their house equity," Henry said. "That I found out when doing a background check for George." "But?" Annie asked - sensing there was more. "But apparently he had also been molesting Jennie for years," Henry said. "The bastard!" Annie said with real anger in her voice. A childhood friend of hers had nearly died from anorexia brought on, as it turned out, by repeated molestation from a close relative. "Yes," Henry said. "Jennie finally told her mum and her mum asked him to leave. Then he hanged himself." "Good riddance!" Annie said. "Very good," Henry replied. "It turns out he had a healthy life insurance policy. The payout will even restore the house equity. Jennie's mum will be a rich widow." "So the only decent thing he ever did was to hang himself?" Annie asked. "So it would seem," Henry said with a shudder. "Not an epitaph anyone would wish for!" Back in the neighbouring village Jennie and George awoke from their orgasm induced stupor. They got up and made a slap-up supper, not bothering getting dressed. Then they returned to bed and carried on 'the project'. "Just one more quick one," George said a few hours later. "But then we have to sleep. We can't keep on being late in for work. It is demoralising for the underlings!" Jennie reluctantly agreed, but when the alarm went off the next morning she silenced it and rode George's 'morning wood' with vigour. In the end they were only about 10 minutes late. Tina shook her head as Jennie rushed out to buy some breakfast after putting the coffee on. "We got sidetracked," she said. "'Sidetracked'? That's not a position I know," Tina said drily. "Is it good?" Over the next couple of weeks Jennie and George established a pattern of using the apartment mid week and the house during prolonged weekends. They were never apart for more than a few hours and they never missed an opportunity to make love although they never did it at the office again. Jennie brought George to meet her dad and Molly and her siblings the Friday after the take-over. They bonded instantly; only Nellie was a bit sceptical until Jennie had proved that having a 'boy-friend' didn't mean she would stop reading good-night stories. Harold was put to rest at a brief ceremony at a crematorium chapel. Jennie, George, Henry and the Willards were there to support Vera. She was dressed in proper blacks but was on Cedric's arm throughout, and she received the condolences of Harold's former colleagues with something bordering on indifference. They must have assumed that her coldness was brought on by Harold's suicide. There was no wake, Work-wise, things were going really well. Joe, Anthony, Lisa and Terry had happily rejoined 'the original Sanders IT Security', as Anthony called it. Paul had played prima-donna and hard-to-get. In the end George had sent him a terse note in which he relinquished his rights in Paul's CCIE. He then hired someone else - a young bloke called Harry who quickly turned out to be a real asset. Especially Tina thought so. The first couple of customers Harry landed required custom code. For some reason they could only find time to discuss the details late at night in Tina's apartment. When Jennie inquired about a permanent address for Harry's second pay-slip he simply gave her Tina's. Jennie kept confidential employee information confidential - she didn't even tell George, who, although he had access to all the data, had no reason to look at it. But in a short time anyone knew anyway - with Harry and Tina openly discussing 'what to cook for tea' during coffee breaks, you didn't have to be a Sherlock Holmes to work it out. Business kept picking up, but George was reluctant to hire too many people all at once. He was wary of growing too fast and beside he had expected some fall-out from the re-taking of the original customers, but John and Lillian didn't put up a fight. Since the judgement gave George 'all rights and assets in the company Sanders IT Security' there was precious little they could do. Phil Cleary tried to get his job back, even claiming credit for 'keeping the ship afloat'. George told him to go jump. When Phil pretended injured innocence, George snapped. "By all means show up here if you dare Phil," he said. "But I should warn you that Neil is here. He has promised to throw you out the window if you ever show your face on the premises. I should remind you we're on the 3rd floor. I should also warn you that Tina and I will be ready to swear Neil was in Scotland when the ambulance people scrape your remains off the pavement. Do you get me?" Phil got it. He never contacted the company again. Chapter 16 "I talked to the Rector today," Jennie said one Saturday morning in late summer. "Yes, what about?" George asked - looking up from his newspaper which he had been reading while Jennie had gone to get a few things from the shop. He realised she had been gone quite a while, but he wasn't surprised - Jennie was integrating in the little village fast. "About our wedding," Jennie replied. "It seems he has an opening in 4 weeks time - someone cancelled on the trivial grounds that the groom had to get a divorce first..." George smiled widely. "Yes, that little detail is not irrelevant. But four weeks - that is very soon. Why the rush?" "Because, Mr. Sanders," Jennie replied, "I want to be married wearing a proper wedding dress, not a maternity dress the size of a circus tent." She drew a little white plastic stick out of her purse and showed it to George. It was a positive pregnancy test "Oh Jennie," George started. His tears stopped him from saying any more. "OK, so you got the church," George said a goodish while later. "But speaking of little details: What about food for the party, not to mention a place to have the party itself?" "Easy," Jennie said. "I talked to Michael and Brigitte." They were the publican and his wife. "Oh yeah?" George said with a lifted eyebrow. "Were you planning on having the reception at the pub? That has the advantage of limiting the number of people coming..." "No you twit," Jennie replied good-naturedly. "But Brigitte's brother has a catering company. They can do the basics and Michael and Brigitte would be happy to take care of the finishing touches and find people to serve it." "It will still be a rather small party," George said. "The pub isn't all that big," "No but our garden is," Jennie said. "So you call these people now" - she handed George a slip of paper with a name on it written in the Rector's neat and altogether illegible hand, followed by a phone number that could be deciphered - "they are the people that provided the tents for the big church do last year. 'Efficient and reasonable' the Rector's wife called them." George picked up the phone, but then put it down again. "Jennie, sweetheart," he said. "How many people are we going to be?" "Dunno," Jennie said. "I'm working on that. The raw list is somewhere over 100. Better ask for room for 150 - we can always adjust it with the table setting." "Jesus - do we even know that many people?" George asked in horror. "Yes, well, your extended family is rather large your mother told me - even though the Japanese may not be able to come. From my Mum's side it will only be her, Cedric and Cedric's sister and brother-in-law - Mum's boss that is, but my Dad's family is huge and they will all want to come. They're Irish, you know!" "Doesn't your mother have two sisters?" George asked. "I'd rather dig up my stepfather than have those two coming, I swear!" Jennie said hotly. "OK, OK," George said. "But these tent people. What if they can't?" "They can," Jennie said. "If they don't have what they need then ask them to buy it. And they can set it up days in advance if that is an issue." "Right you are Ma'am," George said and got on the phone. Jennie was doing a lot of telephoning her self. "I've gotten hold of all the ushers and flower girls," she said an hour later. "They are all coming over next Saturday afternoon for a fitting." "Fitting?" George asked. "Yes, fitting," Jennie said in a voice suggesting George was a bit dim. "All the flower girls will be in a version of the bride's maid dress and the four ushers in grey morning wear with toppers. Kirstin couldn't ask Jimmy if he was free - he's in Paris with his band, but she was certain he would do this for his favourite uncle." Kirstin was George's second-oldest sister. Jimmy - James, actually, was her only child. He was around 24, very good looking and fronting a pretty successful band. "So who are the ushers again?" George asked, "Jimmy, Jeff and my little brothers Ryan and Sean," Jennie said. "Two for each side - that will work charmingly." "You have thought of everything, haven't you?" George said with reluctant admiration. "Yes, I think I have - including asking your Best Man if he was available," Jennie said. "His wife said that under threat of complete withdrawal of marital rights, he was." "Ha!" George said. "I'd like to see her go without. I am sure that since Annie lost her virginity to Henry - during my last wedding reception I might add, she has had Henry between her legs more or less continuously." "Good for her," Jennie said. "And good for Henry. I like them both!" "I think it is fair to declare that is mutual," George replied. Annie had been exceedingly welcoming to Jennie and the girls already called her 'Auntie Jennie'. On Monday at end of the regular morning meeting, George made an announcement. "This year's staff-party will be at Jennie's and my place on Saturday in three weeks. Bringing spouses and kids is compulsory. Dress festively. The party starts at five unless you want to come to the church too - then it is at two." Whatever else he had been planning on saying was drowned out in loud cheers. When calm had been restored Jennie quietly asked for RSVPs ASAP. "We'll make sure kids can be entertained and put to bed," she said. "We're hiring a flock of babysitters. If anyone wants to stay over night, let us know - we shan't be there! And the pub has 4 or 5 rooms too." The fitting-at-home-party was huge fun. It was a very warm day and the kids were told to change into swim wear, but not to go into the pool before they had been measured by Fred - a friend of Cathy and Jeff who worked in the Bridal Outfitters shop were Jennie and Cathy had found the wedding dress and the bride's maid dress. "I can't have a man touching me everywhere!" Emily protested - she was just starting to have the first hints of a female shape. "No way!" "Believe me honey; you have nothing to worry about. The boys might," Jeff laughed. "Meaning what?" Ryan asked nervously. "Meaning Fred prefers boys," Jeff said. "But he has promised to behave." "He can measure Sean then," Ryan said. "We're identical, remember?" "Don't worry - I'll go in with you," Jennie said. "Like that would make it any better!" Sean exclaimed. Fred behaved. He liked men, not boys. And he knew enough to only admire Jimmy. The girls were easy too - a lot of giggling, but it was over quickly. Not so to the coming job. "You don't leave us much time Jennie Love," Fred said afterwards. "Beside Cathy's bride's maid dress - and your wedding dress - there are 7 flower girl dresses, pretty much all different - ranging from room for a nappy to room for a trainer-bra." "Can you manage?" Jennie asked in concern. "We will have to work overtime," Fred said. "Then work overtime," George said. "Money is not an issue." "We'll get it done Mr. Sanders," Fred said to George as he saw him out. "Don't worry. Working with dresses for girls like Jennie and Cathy is a joy. They are drop dead gorgeous from the outset - no need to work miracles, just enhance what's natural!" There was a festive mood. The garden was full of the sounds of splashing water and laughing children, the older kids and adults taking turns to supervise the small ones. Jennie felt supremely happy and wanted to share her joy with George, but he was nowhere in the garden. She finally found him in the library in the ground-floor that was also used as a study. He was looking out the open windows, but turned around when he heard her. His eyes were full of tears. "George my love! Whatever is the matter?" Jennie asked as he came into her open arms. "That..." George sniffled and pointed out the windows. "The garden full of happy kids. That's what I always wanted." "Well, you're getting it!" Jennie said in a soft voice. "This time nieces and nephews and my young siblings who all adore you. In a few years ours will be there too. Remember?" she took his hand a put it on her abdomen. Still perfectly flat, but they both knew what was inside. They kissed for a long time and then rejoined the party. "I have a small surprise for you," Jennie said with a laugh. "We have signed up Jimmy's band for the wedding reception." "Fantastic!" George said and turned to Jimmy. "Will you get the lads to appear in grey spats and toppers too?" "Hardly!" his nephew laughed. "I think I'll find time to change." "Do you know if your Japanese cousins are coming?" George asked. His oldest sister and her husband could not come, that they already knew. "Yoko might," Jimmy said happily. "She is starting a year at Cambridge in September and will try to come early." "Well, she can have the house here while we're on our honeymoon," Jennie said. "Yes," George said, "that's an excellent idea to have her house-sitting. And tell her I'll cover any rebooking fee." "I'll tell her that," Jimmy said. "We talk on Facebook most days." "Where are you going on your honeymoon?" Molly asked. She was sitting in a deck chair with baby Eric on her lap - he was at that happy age where any adult will do - chatting to Leah, Annie and small Leah who found the little boy fascinating. "Well, I suggested the Maldives," Jennie said with a huge grin. "But George wouldn't think of it!" "No way!" George exclaimed "Why on earth not?" his sister asked. "It sound perfectly romantic - tropical and mysterious and all!" "George fears the name 'Sanders' may close more doors than it opens on those islands - at least for a few years," Jennie laughed. They obviously had to tell the story about Lillian and John's trip. Paddy was laughing hard. "That sounds like the perfect revenge," he said. "Don't get angry, get even!" Jennie said airily. "But where are you going then?" Molly asked again when she had dried her eyes from laughter. "France," Jennie said. "Two weeks in a romantic chateau in the Loire valley." "Shall I help you with Dinner?" Leah offered in the late afternoon. "It's sweet of you, but there's nothing to do - we are testing a few suggestions for the reception menu tonight. Michael and Brigitte are bringing it in an hour's time," Jennie said. "That's neat!" Molly exclaimed. "But at least we can set some tables." The only problem with the food was what to choose. Everything was fabulous and there was precious little agreement. "Well, apart from the entree, everything else is a buffet," Michael said. "So with that many people you can have a lot of everything, really!" "Sounds fine," George said. "And listen Michael, this is real English food. I want beer with it." "Naturally!" the publican beamed. "There shall be - in addition to wine. I'll move the beer-garden taps up here a few days in advance." Jeff and Jimmy were positively beaming too. "The lads will love that," Jimmy said. "Your uncle will love that too Jimmy," Leah replied, "Tim was never a wine person." The next few weeks flew. They invited just over 130 people including children and ended up with 117 'yeas'. Yoko did manage to change her tickets; in fact she arrived about a week before the wedding and was a great help to Jennie. The stunningly beautiful girl - a perfect mix of an English mother and Japanese father - was only about a year younger than her new 'auntie' and admitted freely that she was deadly jealous. She had always worshipped her Uncle George and hated Lillian with a vengeance. Apparently she had discovered one of Lillian's early infidelities one summer they spent in England. No-one had believed her when she told her parents and grandparents. "I should have told Uncle George," she said. "But I feared he would think it was a ploy to get him for myself." She laughed "The ideas 12 year old girls can get sometimes!" Jennie sympathised. She could well imagine a pubescent girl falling headlong for her mother's much younger half brother. Three days before the wedding the pavilions went up. (Jennie only made the mistake of calling them 'tents' once!) The company was highly professional. When they rolled in a string of small shed-like structures, Jennie was agog. "What on earth is that?" she asked the foreman. "Port-a-loos, Mum," he replied. "With an 'undred people or more, you need toilets." "Did you order those George?" Jennie asked her flustered husband to be. Before he could answer, the unruffled foreman replied for him "No Mum, 'e didn't. Most people forget. We don't." Later in the afternoon a service car from the electricity company arrived and rolled out cables between a box in the street and the garden. "Did we..." Jennie started. "No Mum, you didn't," the foreman said. "Most people forget. We don't." "I’m beginning to understand why the Rector's wife recommended you," Jennie said. "Thank you Mum," the foreman smiled. "That's kind of you and of 'er both. She didn't forget anything, mind. Clergy spouses are usually the true organisers..." Jennie laughed and left them to it - she felt confident everything would work out fine. And suddenly the day was there. Jennie stayed overnight with her dad and Molly and arrived at the church on the dot, walking up the aisle on her father's arm. He may have looked a bit out of sorts in wedding greys, but he was so proud he nearly burst and there were happy tears on his rugged face. Cathy and the flock of small girls looked gorgeous. At the altar George and Henry were waiting, immaculately attired. Leah got shy and ran over to her dad. The whole congregation sighed when the best man lifted up the smallest flower-girl. Even before the service started, hankies were wet. George and Jennie noticed very little of what was going on around them -they only had eyes for each other. They said their 'I dos' at the right moments and the Rector proclaimed them man and wife. An odd job had turned into new lives for Jennie, George and a lot of other people. Some not yet born, __________________________ Chapter 17: Epilogues Epilogue 1: George and Jennie were at the hospital for a scan. The midwife thought Jennie was getting big very quickly and had a sneaking suspicion there were two babies. Jennie thought so too - she clearly remembered the double-sided ovulation pain. The technician moved the ultra-sound device over Jennie's abdomen. Just seconds later the suspicion was a certainty. "Yes, it's going to be twins," she said. Elated George hugged Jennie. As they were walking back out to the car hand in hand, George put on a pretend-concerned face. "Two! One is bad enough. It is really irresponsible of me getting you pregnant in the first place. What will Sanders IT Security do without you?" Jennie laughed. "Not a problem, I've got it all worked out. Cathy will have finished her training just before the babies are due. She can take over at the company while I am on maternity leave!" __________________________ Epilogue 2: "'E seems to 'ave vanished," Nick said. "Can't find 'im or 'is wife anywhere." Mike was furious. "I want my money. I want Harold Banks found." Steve had entered without knocking - a cardinal sin in Mike's world - and now he spoke without being asked, another cardinal sin. But the content of what he said was even worse. "You won't find him boss," Steve said. "I grilled the neighbours. It seems our Harold has done away with himself." "What?" Mike exploded. "He hanged himself a month ago." Steve said. "On the Saturday of the Bank Holiday - a few hours after Nick had 'talked' to him." Mike sent Nick a withering glare. "'E was givin' me all kinds of 'ogwash about the wife leavin' and the daughter leavin' and 'aving no money," Nick defended himself. "So I put a bit o'pressure on 'im like, and said we might visit 'im at work if 'e didn't pay up, right? 'Ow was I to know 'e would do away with 'isself?" "Well, he did," Steve said sagely. "Can we go after the wife for the money?" Mike asked. "She must have the house now. Did you talk to her?" "No chance," Steve replied. "The house has been sold and she has moved away. The neighbours didn't know where to. The Bankses kept themselves to themselves; no-one seemed to know them well." __________________________ Epilogue 3: The building society clerk listened patiently to the irate female. "Surely this must be a mistake," she was saying - waving a letter at his face. "You can't be demanding money from me. I got the cottage absolutely in the divorce settlement." "Yes Madam, I am sure you did," the clerk said. "That means you took over title in the property - and all liabilities. You signed a document to that effect." He pointed to the document in question. Lillian was confused. She remembered signing documents in Marion's office two days after the court case - just before she left for that disastrous holiday with John. There had been a whole pile of papers and she had barely scanned them, just signed where Marion told her to sign. She vaguely recalled that particular document; she had thought 'liabilities' was about electricity bills and council taxes and what-not. She had no idea the property was mortgaged and said so. "There is a loan of £1.8 million in the property Madam," the clerk explained in a way suitable for a small child or a dim-witted person. "That loan is now in your name, as are the regular repayments - principal and interest and fees - that you have to pay." Lillian was shocked. "£1.8 million? That is the exact amount my ex-husband was made to pay!" "Why, that makes sense," the clerk said brightly. "To cover the mortgage in the property no doubt?" "It doesn't make sense at all," Lillian shot back. "I was paid with my own money!" Lillian was not very strong on financial matters, but there was no way she could afford servicing a debt of £1.8 million in a summer house, that much she knew. "I shall have to sell the cottage then," she said to no-one in particular. "Yes Madam, that is a possibility," the clerk said - obviously thinking the observation was addressed to him. "That should just about cover the loan." "Just about?" Lillian snapped. "That's rubbish - the cottage is worth nearly £3 million!" Strangely she used the highest of the valuations, not the one used during the court case. "Ah yes, that was perhaps the previous valuation," the clerk said. "I fear you will find that the market price has fallen significantly. The Building Society is quite concerned that the loan exceeds the market value." He thought the term 'negative equity' would be lost on this customer. "What are you talking about?" Lillian asked in abject shock. "Why should prices have fallen that much?" "Oh, perhaps you didn't know Madam," the clerk said with something bordering on sympathy. "The neighbouring land has been sold to an institution for the mentally handicapped. Building will commence in a few weeks." Lillian felt faint. The cottage's small garden was surrounded on three sides by a large vacant plot of land that was only used for grazing of horses. She had pleaded with George to keep it that way through buying it. She was sure he had. "I thought the cottage and the adjacent land was one property," she faltered. "No Madam, it is not," the clerk said. "The two properties were never joined. Your former husband retained the land and he has now sold it." __________________________ Epilogue 4: Henry entered the restaurant. Annie had excused herself - she needed a toilet again. The maître d’ showed Henry to their table. On the way he passed an animated party of fellow lawyers. One of them was Marion Ingleby who had represented Lillian Sanders in the divorce. "Hello Henry," she said brightly. "Why, hello Maid Marion," Henry said. He knew she hated that nick-name. "How charming to see you!" "Is it indeed? I thought you had a grudge against me!" Marion said and with a theatrical whisper added to her friends "I fleeced one of his clients last year!" Henry pretended not to hear that. "Grudge? Of course not," he insisted. "It was delightful. I wish I had more cases where you were representing the opposite side." "Come on Henry. We all know we completely wiped the floor with you and that Mr. Sanders," Marion urged. "I do believe you're just trying to get in my pants," she added - again for the benefit of her hangers-on and rewarded with their loud giggles. "Thanks but no thanks Marion," Henry replied. "I'm sure inside your pants is a nice place to be and I am charmed by the offer, but I have another set of pants I get into by exclusive arrangement." Marion coloured up pink at this outrageous misinterpretation of her words. She had made no such offer! She wished she had and that it would be taken up. She had a string of disastrous relationships with young men her own age behind her. Henry was a dish and mature, but he was twisting her words and her friends were now laughing at her. "And as to fleecing my client," Henry added, "whatever gave you that idea Maid Marion?" "Come on Henry," Marion retorted, "we got everything we asked for. You didn't get a leg in!" "It ought to make you suspicious when the opposing party agrees to give you everything you ask for," Henry said pleasantly. "And no, you didn't get quite what you asked for." "What do you mean? We got the exact sum!" Marion said hotly. "Marion my dear," Henry said paternally. "You are much more recently out of law school than me, so I'm sure you can remember the difference between a settlement based on the agreed division of an asset list and one based on an agreed lump sum?" "There isn't one!" Marion said, and then more hesitantly "is there?" "Not if the asset list is correct," Henry said. "We told you it wasn't. Rather than asking for a correct list, you accepted the lump sum. Have a pleasant evening." Marion was stunned. She had worried about this. Henry was supposed to be a tough nut and Marion's client was obviously a slut while his was almost a saint, so she had dimly wondered if anything was amiss. But she had wanted to believe that she had won, wanted to believe it went their way because of her brilliance - her brilliance and the notorious anti-man judge. She felt humiliated. Before she could say anything, Henry's wife walked up. Marion glared at her. Damn, she was pretty and Henry was positively glowing with pride. He padded Annie's swelling belly. "You see, I get into these pants on a regular basis with pleasant results," he said smugly. "We've just been told number 4 is a boy. We're out celebrating!" "What on earth was that about? Who is that dreadful woman?" Annie asked as Henry escorted her to their table. "That is Marion Ingleby," Henry said by way of answer to the last question. "She represented Lillian Sanders and was labouring under the misapprehension that her client won!" Henry chuckled. "Poor thing - and she has the hots for you too?" Annie said. "Can't blame her!" __________________________ Epilogue 5: "I Talked to your Pastor," Vera's sister intoned. "You are mistaken Deborah - I don't have one," Vera replied. "What do you mean?" her sister protested. "Of course you do. And dear Mr. Pendergrass was ever so concerned he hasn't seen you since poor Harold's death." "I don't live anywhere near that church anymore," Vera said. "Besides, I was tired of wasting my time listening to his drivel. So I gave it a miss." "Don't you go to church at all?" her sister asked horrified. "Rarely," Vera replied. "But I was in church last Saturday," she added brightly. "Oh yes," her sister said hopefully. Perhaps Vera had become a Seventh-day Adventist! "Where?" "'Our Lady of Compassion' out in Westham," Vera replied innocently. "That sounds like a Catholic church!" her sister gasped. "Indeed it is," Vera said. "Very enjoyable. They do put on a festive show and no mistake!" "What were you doing there?" her sister demanded, even more horrified and this apparent bout of Papism than she had been over the suspected Atheism. "I was at a wedding," Vera replied. "The oldest of Jennie's little sisters got married. Her husband is a Westham boy." "What little sister?" Deborah asked - incredulity clear in her voice. "Catherine O'Brien the girl is called - was called I mean. She is Mrs. Heeley now." Vera said. "She was Jennie's bridesmaid in summer. Gorgeous girl. She and Jennie are such good friends and they look so alike." "O'Brien?!" her sister nearly shrieked. "Yes, O'Brien," Vera said. Her voice was cold as ice now. "When you and Gladys had battered me into leaving Paddy he thankfully married a lovely girl called Molly and had 5 kids by her. They are all wonderful people. Jennie adores her younger siblings and Paddy, Molly, Cedric and I are great friends. We're planning a holiday together next Easter." "Cedric?! Who is Cedric?!" Deborah gasped. "Cedric is my lover," Vera said - choosing the word carefully. "I moved in with him the day I found Harold hanging. He's quite a bit older than me, but gosh - there's nothing wrong with his equipment. Sometimes I can barely walk!" The line went dead. 'Perhaps she fainted,' Vera thought. 'She always was very excitable.' __________________________ Epilogue 6: "George, it's going to be twins again!" Jennie said over the phone. George hadn't been able to come to the scan this time as he was away on an international conference, but he had begged her to call as soon as she knew. When his cell phone rang during a key-note presentation he had received angry glares from many of the other participants, but he couldn't care less. "That's wonderful darling," George said. "If we keep it up like this you will have filled the children's rooms in just three pregnancies." "Unless we decide to put two in each," Jennie grinned. "I just love being pregnant." "Twelve is perhaps pushing it," George said with a laugh. "I would need to get a bus - and a license to drive it." "That's an idea," Jennie laughed back. "But OK, let's strike a deal: Two more pregnancies. I want at least six children and with luck I can have eight that way." "Could she give you a due date?" George asked - Jennie had never had a period after the first set of twins so they didn't actually know when the new set was conceived. "Late March or early April was her best guess," Jennie replied. "That's fine - Cathy will just be back from maternity leave when I am due." __________________________ Epilogue 7: "For Christ's sake. I've timed you! Your contractions are now only seven minutes apart!" Jennie yelled. "Rubbish," Tina replied. "It's only Braxton-Hicks - I am not due for another week and a half!" "You may think you know that," Jennie retorted, "but your baby doesn't." "But I can't leave now!" Tina protested. "Version 8 is so very nearly finished." "So is 'Tina Version 2'", Jennie said drily. Tina and Harry had known it was a girl for a long time. A serious hereditary illness in Tina's family had made testing vital, but it only affected boys - and unlike Tina, the baby girl would not be a carrier of the defect. "Well, she'll just have to waaaaaaait," Tina started, but it turned in to a longish groan. She was about to say something more when a splashing sound announced that 'Tina Version 2' was indeed going to beat 'Remote Config Control Version 8'. "That's torn it!" Tina grumbled. "Cathy dear, will you be a sweetheart and phone for an ambulance?" Jennie said to her sister who was starting today. "What, have you gone into labour?" Cathy asked. "Nope - Tina has," Jennie said and went to find Harry. __________________________ Epilogue 8: Lillian saw George and a young woman in the street. They were pushing a twin stroller and the woman was obviously highly pregnant again. They both looked disgustingly happy. Lillian felt a stab in the heart. Why wasn't it her having George's babies? She only had herself to blame. She could have been a mother many times over if she had wanted to. She decided to take it up with John - if only she could catch him sober. These days he was usually drunk before dinner time. Since his company had folded he hadn't been able to land a job. A large chunk of the divorce settlement money was gone trying to shore up the company, another bit to cover the loss on the sale of the cottage. They were going through the rest at an alarming rate, but that was not on her mind now. "John darling," she said. "I was wondering if I should go off the pill?" "No pill, no sex," John replied. He wasn't quite as sober as Lillian had hoped for, but not exactly drunk. "I'd like to have some children some time," Lillian said. "Before it is too late," she added. "It is," John said. "But a lot of women are having children around 40 these days!" Lillian protested. "Yeah, and they look like hags afterwards," John spat. "And by the time the kids are teenagers the mothers are pushing sixty. I won't inflict that on any kid. Besides I am not interested in kids." Lillian decided to go off the pill anyway - and see what would happen. Deep down she knew chances were slim. At 41 your fertility is way down at the best of times, and after the chemo she might have none at all. Fertility treatment without John's active involvement was a long shot. Perhaps she should look for someone else. She had tried, actually, but none of her former lovers were interested. She had a dim suspicion they may have taken her for the money back then. George's money. The End.