The Knowledge Stone (46 page)

‘Yes, I think so, although HDC had a few criticisms. Anyway, it’s the only solution in the short term. She stands in for him when he’s not there. We’ll see how she does in the next months.’

‘How did you manage to swing that? I’ve never seen anything like it.’ The lawyer was derisively incredulous as he packed away his papers into his briefcase. His words were directed at a silent Julian slumped over the table.

‘What do you mean?’ a flat, despondent voice.

‘You’re the boss of an eighteen-year-old girl, you get her alone in your office, grab her and tear off her clothes … and you manage to swing a suspended sentence? People are put away for years for much less than you did. Have you got a lucky horseshoe at home, or something?’ Julian looked with dislike at the man who had been his defence lawyer.

‘Look, I’ve told you hundreds of times – I’m not guilty, it was an accident. I love the girl. I would never have done anything to hurt her. I’m innocent of attempted rape. I think I ought to appeal.’

‘Listen, my friend,’ the lawyer said, ‘you’ve achieved a superb result here, you’ll soon be a free man and you can get back to your life. If you appeal, you could easily get your suspended sentence changed to a custodial one – and not a short one, either. I expected you to get at least five years for this. So, keep quiet and thank your lucky stars.’ Julian’s face darkened: ‘A superb result, you say? I’ve lost four months of my life, sitting in a stinking prison cell on remand. Now I’ve got a criminal record for a serious crime I didn’t commit. I would hardly call that a superb result, would you? I should have been found “Not Guilty”.’

The lawyer ignored Julian’s response: ‘Goodbye, then,’ he said cheerfully, ‘best of luck!’ He departed, leaving Julian with his thoughts.

Julian had to admit that it was nice to be free, to be able to go anywhere you want, to eat what you want – if you could afford it, that is. He reflected angrily that he had been compelled to pay a large fine and this had drained his bank account.

‘I’d better get back to work,’ he thought, ‘to start building up my resources again.’ He felt in his pocket and pulled out his money – a single 20 euro note. ‘Twenty euro. Enough to buy lunch for several days.’ He headed towards the sandwich shop beside the park. It was a nice day and Julian looked forward to relaxing in the park for a little while before making contact with the Firm. ‘Plenty of time for that,’ he thought.

As usual, the sandwich shop was busy. The boy behind the counter was working as hard as he could to serve his customers. Julian joined the queue and eventually placed his order for a ham sandwich and a bottle of water.

‘Five euro, please,’ the boy said, perfunctorily. Julian handed over his twenty euro note. The boy rummaged in the till drawer and handed Julian his change, a single green five euro note.

‘Next?’ he called.

‘Just a minute,’ Julian said firmly, ‘you’ve given me the wrong change. I gave you a twenty. You still owe me ten.’

‘I’m sorry, Sir, but you gave me a ten. This is your note in the clip on top of the till.’ He pointed to the red note fixed in the clip: ‘You see, Sir, we have a fixed procedure here. It’s what most shops do. When the customer pays with a note and change is required, we always place the customer’s note in the clip until we give the change. So, you see, this is the note you gave me – and it’s a ten.’

Julian reddened: ‘You’re wrong. I gave you a twenty – you must remember.’

‘No Sir, you didn’t.’

Julian stiffened: ‘I want to speak to the Manager – immediately.’

‘Sir, I am the Manager. You gave me a ten; and this is it.’

Angry voices began to sound from the waiting queue. A few moments later, Julian was outside the shop, his purchase in one hand and only a single five euro note in his pocket.

‘I’ve been cheated,’ he thought angrily, ‘I’ll never buy another sandwich in there and I’ll make sure I’ll tell everyone else this story. He’ll be sorry by the time I’ve finished with him.’

Inside the shop, the young man allowed himself a brief smile of satisfaction.

‘Hello, Oberto,’ (Julian had decided it was best to use his family connections), ‘as you probably know, I’m available to start work again as soon as you like; today, even! Shall I come round to see you?’

‘Ah, Julian. Could I just ring you back? I need to have a word with HR. There are things to organise, you know. Give me your phone number, please.’

About one hour later, Julian’s cell phone rang. It was not Oberto but the HR Director:

‘Hello, the Senior Partner has asked me to have a word with you. Would you like to come in to see me? 10.30 tomorrow morning would be fine.’

‘Ah … I was rather hoping for today …’

‘Can’t do it, I’m afraid; stacked out with meetings. See you tomorrow at 10.30. Goodbye.’

Time passed at a snail’s pace. In the afternoon, Julian had walked around aimlessly; he had even gone to the Museum and tried to interest himself in the dusty exhibits whose details were explained in tiny writing on small faded cards. Standing in front of a large Roman pot, broken and reassembled rather haphazardly, he thought, he realised he had read the exhibit card four times and still did not understand the words.

‘Time for a cup of coffee and a pastry,’ he thought, then remembered he did not have enough money. Finally, he gave up and went back to his flat, to stare gloomily at daytime television trivia.

The only bright spot in his life was Sunia. His face relaxed into a tender smile as he thought about her. He loved her deeply and was absolutely obsessed with her. He longed to be together with her in marriage. How wonderful that would be. There had been many girlfriends and relationships in his life but he had never before felt like this about anyone. ‘She said she liked me; I’m sure that means she loves me! I might have made a mistake when I took her in my arms that day but I wanted to show her how much I loved her.’ This was the one thought that had kept Julian sane in prison. He would sit for hours, thinking and planning: ‘When I am found “Not Guilty” and get out of here, I must make contact with her as soon as possible. I’ll need to leave it until I get back to work, though, because I don’t know her cell phone number and it wouldn’t be appropriate for me to ring her up on the office phone without warning. We have a lot to talk about, Sunia and I.’ Oh what bliss that would be!

After a rather fitful night’s sleep, Julian prepared himself for his meeting at the Firm. His elderly BMW took him to the town and, for the first time in months, he drove into the Firm’s underground car park and attempted to park it in his allotted space; however he was greatly annoyed to find another car parked there.

‘This is very annoying and totally unacceptable; I’ll need to sort it out as soon as I get back to DC. And I’ll give whoever it is a serious piece of my mind.’ With some difficulty, he turned his car around and eventually parked at a nearby public car park. Looking at his watch, he found he would need to hurry to arrive at the HR Department for 10.30.

The familiar doorway was entered. Julian greeted the security staff smoothly as he passed, flashing his Security ID. Should he call in briefly at DC? He knew that everyone would be very pleased to see him – and he might see Sunia. He looked at his watch again. Better not, he didn’t want to be late for the meeting with the HR Director After all, he would be going to DC after the meeting – returning to his office to start work.

As he stood in the elevator, he mused: ‘I wonder what this meeting is all about. Maybe he wants some advice from me.’ Moments later, he arrived at HR.

‘I have a meeting with your Director,’ he said loftily to the HR Receptionist, ‘HDC, 10.30.’ The girl consulted a list.

‘Nothing here about HDC,’ she said. ‘What’s your name?’ Somewhat testily, Julian gave it.

‘Ah, yes, your name is here on the list. Will you come through to the Waiting Room?’ Julian was irritated again: ‘Will you tell the Director I am here, please?’

‘No need, Sir. The procedure is that his PA will come for you when he is ready to see you.’

About fifteen minutes later, a girl came in and requested that he should accompany her.

‘About time,’ he grunted but she did not react. They reached a door marked “Head of Staffing”; the girl knocked and opened the door, indicating that he should enter. A rather grim middle-aged woman sat on a comfortable overstuffed swivel chair behind a large polished desk. She glanced at him briefly and introduced herself: ‘I am the Head of Staffing here. Sorry to keep you waiting. The HR Director has asked me to see you.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Julian replied icily, ‘there must be some mistake. My meeting is with the Director himself.’

The woman lifted a bulky folder from a tray on her desk and read the title. Without looking up, she said: ‘He isn’t here this morning. He’s playing in a golf tournament. He has asked me to see you and explain things before we get started with the action.’

‘Explain what? … What action? ... ’ Julian began but the woman interrupted him: ‘Sit down, please. She pointed to a small plain chair opposite her.

Julian sat down, smiling thinly and thinking: ‘Not much idea about interview technique. A cross-desk confrontation; a pathetic little chair to sit on. I could teach her a thing or two!’ The woman opened the folder.

‘Perhaps the simplest thing is for me to read out what the HR Director has written to me?’

‘Yes, can we get on with it? I want to get back to my work.’

The woman looked at him sharply, before saying: ‘Here is the relevant part: “Julian (that’s you, isn’t it?) is an employee of the Firm who has been convicted of a serious crime against a junior member of his staff. The Partners’ Board have taken the decision that the Firm cannot employ anyone with a Criminal Record, especially when the crime is connected with sexual molestation. Therefore he is to be dismissed immediately from his position in the Firm. Will you please inform him of that decision and put into action the usual procedures for Dismissal without Reference.” The woman sat back and looked at Julian with a neutral, professional expression.

‘This cannot be true,’ Julian said, ‘I am a personal friend of the Senior Partner. My father and he were at university together. Oberto would never do such a thing to our family. Furthermore, my work here as HDC was exemplary and I am innocent of the crime of which I was accused. I demand to speak to the Senior Partner. In fact, I will go to his office now – I have been there many times before.’

The woman tried but she could not stop him. Julian stormed out of HR and made his way to the Senior Partner’s office. His PA was in the outer office, rattling at speed on her computer keyboard.

‘Yes?’ She didn’t look up.

‘I want to speak to the Senior Partner immediately. Tell him it’s HDC and it’s extremely urgent.’

The woman sighed, looking up. ‘Oh, it’s you, is it? Have you got an appointment?’

Julian was now shouting. ‘Tell him I want to speak to him immediately.’

The woman hesitated, then picked up her phone, spoke quietly and listened. Then she replaced the handset quietly: ‘No.’ she said.

‘What?’ he exploded.

‘No, he doesn’t want to see you. That’s what he said.’

At that moment, the door of the outer office burst open and two security staff appeared with the Head of Staffing.

‘That’s him!’ she said, triumphantly.

The men grasped Julian by his arms. ‘Will you come with us, please?’ Words spoken with authority.

Julian went quietly. He had spent four months in prison and was used to such treatment. He knew it was useless to struggle against it. You wound up worse off – very much worse off at times!

The woman in HR was very experienced and looked at Julian kindly.

‘Could you just sign this, Sir,’ she said, sliding paper and pen across the desk.

‘What is it?’ Julian asked dully.

‘It’s the beginning of the dismissal procedure,’ the woman replied gently.

It did not take long. Papers were signed and put in a large envelope. He was given a cardboard box filled with his personal belonging, removed months before from his office. He was required to hand in keys, ID card and Car Park Pass.

‘You will remove your car from the Car Park right away, won’t you, Sir. You use this temporary card. You return it to Reception after you’ve used it.’

‘I don’t need it,’ he said mournfully, ‘someone had parked illegally in my parking space and I had to come out again and park elsewhere.’

‘That’s probably just as well.’ The woman smiled sympathetically. ‘Saves you the bother of coming back into the building, doesn’t it?’

She handed him the bulky envelope. ‘I wish you good luck, then.’

He put the box and envelope in his car. He considered going home to his flat but could not stand the loneliness and sense of loss that would bring. He needed to be alone but with lots of other people, he decided, recognising this as something of a contradiction in terms. He needed to walk, to think. But somehow his mind was frozen, numb. He needed lunch, coffee, but he had almost no money. He had only five euro. Almost without thought, he bought a supermarket sandwich and a small bottle of water. One euro 20c left. He wandered into the park, found a bench to sit on and ate his lunch, largely unaware of his surroundings.

Gradually, as the raw shock of his dismissal began to diminish, his mind cleared to some degree. Suddenly, a wonderful thought. Sunia! He had to make contact with Sunia as soon as possible. With joyous urgency, he began to assemble his strategy: ‘She finishes work at 5.00. She usually parks her car in the public car park round the corner. I’ll check if it’s there (I hope she still has the Cinquecento) and I’ll wait for her. Oh, it will be so lovely to see her.’ Julian felt very much better. Then he had another wonderful thought. ‘Her father is a very important man. Maybe he can get me a job – maybe a better job than I had at the Firm! I’m sure if Sunia spoke to him, he would be sympathetic. He would understand how unreasonable the Firm had been, just tossing me out like that for a little mistake on my part.’

So Julian walked purposely to the car park near the Firm and surveyed the vehicles. There it was, the distinctive Fiat Cinquecento with its attractive red and green Gucci stripe. She would come here just after five o’clock. Julian almost hugged the little car in joy.

‘Hello, Sunia, how are you?’ The familiar voice was a shock; he had concealed himself behind a bush at the entrance to the car park. Word had filtered down to DC that afternoon that the former HDC had been released from prison – Guilty but Suspended Sentence – and that he would not be returning to the Firm. On hearing this, Sunia hoped fervently that she would not see him again. She had shuddered at the thought! Now her worst fears were realised. Julian had sought her out as soon as he could and jumped out at her when she least expected it. She looked at him fearfully, trembling and wondering what to do. He was smiling at her – his best smile!

‘I hope I didn’t startle you, Sunia. I would never want to do that. I am hoping we can arrange to get together for a good, long chat. Would you like that? I have so many important things to say to you.’

The girl and the man were seen to stand close together for some time at the entrance to the car park. At first, the man was animated, smiling, waving his arms energetically, encouragingly. By contrast, the girl was subdued, uncertain, looking down at the ground, unsuccessfully edging away from the man as he followed her backward movements to maintain their closeness. From his body language, it was clear he was trying to persuade her to do something; it was equally clear that she did not want to comply. His words were a torrent of energy, becoming ever louder; her replies hesitant and monosyllabic as she shook her head in negation.