He was morbidly obese; probably from all the free lunches and dinners he took, on the understanding that he would swing some favour or other, for some gullible individual.
In general he was disliked by the majority of the public, but somehow, still managed to hang on to his seat at each election.
His father was the Tory MP before him and was well liked, but he was a much more talented individual than his son.
“If you think it will help Bren you go and see him, but be prepared to be disappointed?”
“I have to go and see him Mike, maybe he can get us some help financially from the National Health Service, or some other government department. He might not be able to help at all, but I feel I must try for Rachel’s sake.”
“O.K. Brenda, go and see him, but don’t expect miracles, and be prepared to be disappointed, he has a proven track record in that department. Anyway lets get back to bed and try and get an hours sleep at least.”
* * *
During the course of the next day, Mike thought of nothing else but how they could raise the money. He could not bear the thought of loosing his daughter, and whatever it took they would have to try and come up with the money somehow.
He felt he should outline Rachel’s problem to his M.D Stuart Clarke. He was very sympathetic and told Mike to take whatever time off he needed, and if there was anything that he or Brenda wanted they had only to ask. Mike didn’t say anything about the cost involved, he would leave that for another day, but he thanked Stuart for his offer.
He finally called the production staff together to go over the new publication for Reg Prentice, and made sure everyone was clear on what was wanted. The remainder of the day was the usual madcap rush to meet deadlines, but at least it helped Mike to take his mind of his problem.
Chapter 3
˜
“I am sorry Mr Moxworthy, but you are way over your agreed limit, and without any visible means for support, there is no way I can increase your overdraft facility.”
“Look Mr Freely, this is only a temporary thing, it’s just to get me over what my wife has done.”
“I am sorry, I am afraid I am not interested in your private life Mr Moxworthy, you can take it that the agreed facility has been cancelled, I expect the account to be back in credit within the next seven days.”
Moxie glared at him, he could feel the rage building up inside of him.
“How do you expect me to do that you miserable little bastard, and this after all the business I have directed in your direction from Miller’s garage? I don’t suppose he’s got anything to do with this?”
“I don’t know what you are talking about.”
“Oh come off it you prick, you and Miller are as thick as thieves, there is talk that you are more than just good friends, in fact, I’d call it downright unhealthy.”
“I am afraid I’m not prepared to discuss this anymore Mr Moxworthy, just make sure your account is back in credit within seven days, good day.”
Freely stood up from his desk, then walked over to the door and opened it.
He was a small thin individual, who always seemed to wear a suit about three sizes to big for him. His glasses were perched on the end of his nose, and he walked with a really bad stoop. He was pale faced with a severe spotty complexion, and in short, with a face only a mother could love.
Moxie stood up, walked towards the door to face the bank manager. He was considerably taller than Freely; he looked down on him with anger written all over his face.
“You will regret this Freely, I am not one to make idle threats, but what you have done is below the belt and totally uncalled for. I intend to take this matter up with a higher authority than you, you excuse for a human being. By the way your wife says you are useless in bed, you know the four poster one with the Laura Ashley bed linen prints.”
Moxie had never slept with his wife, he wasn’t that desperate, but he knew they had a four-poster bed. His wife was boasting to Moxie’s wife Delores in the local shopping centre, that they had just bought a four-poster bed and they had furnished their bedroom, with the latest and most expensive Laura Ashley prints, that they as mere mortals wouldn’t ever be able to afford.
But he hated this little prick so much, he wanted to heap as much hurt on him as he could, short of smacking him in the nose. As he turned and walked out of his office, Moxie slammed the door and nearly took it off its hinges, and most of the customers in the bank turned around to stare.
“I hope none of you are looking for an overdraft, because you would have a better chance with Dick Turpin, than that evil little bastard?”
He stormed out of the Bank and bounded down Bridge Street, he knew that Miller was behind all this, and vowed if it were the last thing he did, he would get even with that son of a bitch.
He rushed into the Duke and up to the bar; Maria was the barmaid on duty.
“Hi Moxie are you alright? ”
“No I’m not, just had a blazing row with that shit of a Manager in Froyd’s Bank, you probably have heard that Delores has left me? Well she has cleaned out the bank account, apart from my last pay cheque which I am hoping you are going to cash for me now, I don’t have a pot to piss in.”
“This ones on the house Moxie, and sure I’ll cash your cheque for you, how do you want it, tens or twenties?”
“Either love it wont last long.”
He spent the next half an hour explaining to Maria his present situation.
“Whatever happens I am going to have a lot of time on my hands.”
Maria was concerned and knew by his demeanour, that he was really upset, and needed some compassion.
“You should rejoin the amateur dramatic society, you were sorely missed when you left, I remember all the brilliant write ups that you used to get in the press, they thought you should have become a professional you were so good?”
“It was that puffter Fairbrother, he said I had no talent whatsoever, so I told him to piss off and I walked, I didn’t need to be lectured to by that gay prick.”
“Nonsense you were brilliant in Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, Mr Chips and your makeup in Quasimodo was incredible, no one knew it was you, and you are brilliant with all the foreign ascents and different dialects, you are a pure natural.”
“Yeah the bells the bells, they have really tolled for me this time.”
“You know Jack Fairbrother isn’t there anymore, he upset so many people in the end they asked him to leave. We now have a beautiful new young director-producer with blonde hair, blue eyes and figure to match, as well as being RADA trained, you would love her Moxie.”
“Look Maria, I am right off women at the moment, with the exception of you of course. I know I have been an idiot, but I don’t deserve what Delores has done to me. Its not as though I am the only one who has been having a bit on the side. She thinks I don’t know about her having a fling with Stuart Leyshon, the Insurance Salesman.
He used to come to the house every week to collect her premiums and somehow, it always seemed to be on darts night, or when I was out.
One week I left the Duke early, and found them upstairs when I got home. They were fully dressed but they had been up to something, looking a bright shade of pink and nervous as hell.
When I tackled her about it she denied it, but one of the mechanics at Millers later told me, he had seen her in Oldham in the Bunch of Grapes pub with Leyshon one night, all over one another, so I knew she was up to no good.
So I thought right what’s good for the goose, is good for the gander.”
Maria had always had a soft spot for him, and they had a bit of a fling before she was married. She had hoped at one stage they might become an item, but Moxie at that time was not the settling down type.
“If there is anything I can do for you Moxie, you know you have only to ask, Delores is a right bitch to do what she did.”
“Thanks Maria, we go back a long way, and at the moment I need all the friends I can get.”
“Look Moxie why don’t you come back to my place for some lunch and a chat, my shift finishes here at 2.0 o’clock. Also anytime you have any washing or ironing you want doing, just drop it in, I’ll take care of it for you?”
“Gee that’s great Maria, but what about your husband Ronnie, I would hate for him to come home and catch us in a compromising position?”
Maria laughed.
“Look, there isn’t going to be any compromising positions, besides he’s in Whitby all this week, fitting out a new store for his company.”
“Right I’ll take you up on your offer, you’ve always been good to me Maria, I don’t know how I let you slip past me. When I saw you walk down the aisle with Ronnie, I knew I’d made one of the biggest mistakes of my life.”
“You had your chance, and anyway I just thought you where too young and immature at the time.”
“And now?”
“Well you have matured in some respects, I think marriage has done that, but you are still a young rouge at heart and you will probably never change. I don’t agree with what you did with Tricia Noble, I would have been hurt if that had been me, any woman would. But I think Delores is a soft cow and tends to over-react if she does not get her own way, she was always like that even at school.”
“Talking about school, I remember you and her in navy blue knickers doing physical training in the school sports ground, you were a fine thing even then, you would only have been fifteen or so.”
“Do you realise, that’s nearly twenty years ago, and it only seems like yesterday. Come on I’ll buy you another pint, then well go and get some lunch?”
Chapter 4
˜
Most of the drivers were returning to Skippers Dairy, when Fisher Thwaites walked out of his office into the yard. There was a definite bite in the air; he felt there was bad weather on the way, a constant worry, when you have so many trucks on the road.
One by one, the returning trucks went into the wash bay, to be hosed down and cleaned thoroughly, ready to be loaded up for the next day deliveries.
This was something Fisher insisted on, that all the trucks be spotlessly clean, after all, they were delivering food products and strict hygiene was essential.
It had been another long day up since 4.0 a.m. with his two sons, making sure all the deliveries went out as scheduled, and that all incoming deliveries of fresh milk, were tested in the lab for quality, before being allowed into the processing complex to discharge their loads.
He had been a milkman for close on forty three years, it was a hard life up in all weathers seven days a week, although he didn’t drive a truck anymore, force of habit, made it difficult for him to detach himself from a lifetimes regime.
His face was weather beaten from all the exposure to the elements, more like a farmer than a businessman, but he was fit and wiry, and stood only about five foot four inches tall and looked every bit of his fifty eight years.
He first started the business, delivering milk with a horse and cart, pulled by a big shire called Major, who could be a bit of a character. On a couple of occasions, he bolted when spooked by traffic, and went down Bury New Road like something out of a Ben Hur chariot race, emptying the contents of the milk churns out of the back of the cart, causing absolute mayhem as he sped through the traffic.
He was eventually pensioned off and saw out his final years, at Bleakholt Animal Sanctuary near Ramsbottom.
Fisher then graduated to a small Ford van, then as his round increased in size to a number of electric milk floats for domestic deliveries. He then expanded the fleet into diesel trucks and took on a lot more drivers.
He invested a huge sum of money into the business, installed the most modern bottling and packaging and processing operation in the district, and took in milk from a number of small farmers.
He had built up Skippers Dairy to be one of the largest milk, cream and butter suppliers, not only to households, but to shops and supermarkets as well. Force of habit, meant he found it hard not get up at four in the morning.
Numerous incidents had happened to him over the years, and some of the stories he told when in the humour through drink, would rival the escapades of Moxie and others.
“How’s it going Fisher, very cold isn’t it? ”
He turned to see Frank Bishop, his old friend and drinking buddy from the Old Duke.
“Yes it is Frank, its unusual for so early in the year, but the temperature is really dropping, I think we could have a heavy frost before long. What are you doing in this part of the world?”
“I’ve been over at the Steel Brick Works, they had a massive fire last night, and I’ve been with the assessor all morning.”
“Oh that’s right, I saw all the activity when I was supervising the deliveries, was there much damage?”
“Well the whole of their offices were gutted, as well as the stores and garages.
It’s too early to say, but it looks like it could be arson.”
“Jesus who’d want to torch that place?”
“Between you and I, there are a couple of directors I wouldn’t trust with a box of matches, of course Moxie’s old friend Miller has a stake in the business, in fact I think he’s the majority shareholder.”
“Moxie will be pleased about that, they probably got to it before he did.”
Frank smiled.
“Well they are adequately insured as I can testify, seeing as my company is responsible for their cover, to be perfectly honest I would say grossly over insured, and just waiting for an accident to happen.”
Frank ran a small insurance brokerage he started after working for a couple of the larger multi nationals. He didn’t have a large number of clients, but made a comfortable living out of commission on the accounts that he had, offering every client a personally tailored package, to cover all their insurance needs.
He was in his early sixties and contemplating retirement soon, and had been mulling over the possibility of selling the business to his nephew, but he would have to stay on for a number of months to ensure a smooth handover to him.
He was tall, slim, and was tanned from many hours on the golf course, his main passion in life, and something he intended to spend a lot more time doing. He had never married, and said it was something he regretted, but he had never found the right person, and missed not having any children. Although some of the problems his friends had, with their wives and kids, made him feel he wasn’t too badly off after all.