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  Her tone of voice made him look at her sharply. ‘What about?’

  She walked around his desk to where he was standing and perched her backside on the edge, fixing him with her gaze. ‘Us, Ernest. Me and you.’ She leaned over and ran a hand down his arm in a seductive manner. ‘You told me you loved me. Lots of times you did. I don’t want to be your bit on the side any longer. I want to be your wife.’ Her eyes gleamed a steely grey as she paused for a moment before demanding, ‘So I want to know when you’re going to tell your wife about us and get a divorce so we can be together.’

  Ernest’s eyes bulged, and he gulped and grabbed hold of his tie to loosen it. He hadn’t been expecting this at all. Lena had seemed more than happy with their office fling, which had been going on now for over three months. She had been the one to instigate matters between them only a week or so after she had come to work here when his previous secretary, a thin, humourless spinster, had retired.

  Ernest had been married to Gertrude, a formidable, matronly woman in her early fifties, for nearly thirty years. For the last ten of them, they had slept in separate rooms, his wife no longer of sexual interest to him now her once-shapely body had thickened and spread through childbirth and age, though his excuse had been that her restlessness and snoring kept him awake at night so he was unable to function properly at work the next day. But just because he was no longer interested sexually in his wife didn’t mean he was prepared to go without. So, he had satisfied his needs with discreet visits to prostitutes, over the years building up a list of those he favoured most.

  He was quite happy with things as they were now, but the thought of his looming retirement, when he would be stuck at home with Gertrude, no longer at liberty to live his secret life, filled him with dread. Consequently, he had come up with a plan, in which he was going to sell his house without Gertrude’s knowledge, empty their bank accounts, and, with the money that was accumulating nicely through backhanders from grateful businessmen who’d gained lucrative council contracts, abscond abroad like a thief in the night to somewhere warm like Spain where Gertrude would never find him. The fact that he would be leaving her destitute caused him no sleepless nights.

  He’d thought his Christmases’ had all come at once when Lena was announced as his new secretary and made her feelings clear from the moment they shook hands. At first he couldn’t believe that such a good-looking young woman actually fancied him, given that he was a portly, bespectacled middle-aged man with a toothbrush moustache, who had never had the women flocking even when he was younger, and so he had assumed he was misreading her innuendoes and provocative body language. But she had made her intentions clear one dinner time when the rest of the staff had left to go home or to the canteen, locking his office door and having wild sex with him over his desk.

  After that, they had sex whenever possible, and he’d felt smug that he had landed such an attractive mistress, only sorry that he was unable, for obvious reasons, to brag to anyone about his conquest. She had never made any demands on him before, seeming happy with the little presents he bought her now and again, so this mention of marriage was totally out of the blue and an utter shock. Should his wife even get an inkling that he was having an affair, he was in no doubt that he would be lucky to end up keeping the clothes on his back after her lawyers had finished with him, and his exploits with his secretary would see the end of his job as head of the council too.

  His face the colour of beetroot due to a sudden rise in blood pressure, he blustered, ‘Now… now, look here, Lena. I thought it was just a bit of fun we were having. You knew I was married. I never said anything about leaving my wife.’ He wagged a fat finger at her. ‘It wasn’t me that started all this, it was you.’

  The corners of her lips kinked as she again stroked her hand down his arm. ‘I can’t remember you making any protests when you were taking advantage of me across your desk, or on the carpet, or anywhere else in this office you’ve had your wicked way with me, honey bun.’

  ‘I… I bought you presents,’ he stammered, like it justified him committing adultery with her.

  She looked down at the silver bracelet he had given her just before they had had sex that morning. ‘Yes, and very nice they were too. Made me a nice few bob at the pawnbroker’s, the same as this one will.’

  He gawped at her. ‘You sold the jewellery I bought you?’

  She smiled and nodded. ‘It’ll help me pay for my bottom drawer.’ She paused for a moment, her eyes glinting maliciously. ‘You can take that look off your face. I’m not serious about you asking your wife for a divorce so we can get married. Did you really believe that I would want to saddle myself with a fat, ugly old pervert like you?’ She sniggered before she went on. ‘I am getting married, though. To my fiancé Billy. We’ve been saving for the last six years but neither of us gets paid that much. You know what my wages are here, and by the time I’ve paid out my board money to my mother and bought my essentials, there isn’t much left over for saving. Billy’s a joiner for a little firm down by the gasworks, and his wages aren’t anything to shout about either. We could just about afford to rent a small flat in a back-street area, but we both want kids and a flat’s no place to bring up a family, is it? I want a house, and not a rented one either. And Billy’s fed up with working for someone else and wants to start his own business. A thousand should be more than ample.’

  Ernest frowned, bewildered. ‘A thousand?’

  She flashed a look at him as though to say, ‘Are you stupid?’ and said sardonically, ‘Pounds, Ernest. We can get a decent house for about four hundred, one of them three-bedroom pre-war semis in a nice area. Couple of hundred to furnish it. As I told you, I’ve already got most of my bottom-drawer stuff, and we’ve both got big families, so there’ll be plenty of wedding presents. That would leave four hundred to set Billy up in his own business.’

  Ernest’s thoughts were beginning to turn somersaults as it slowly struck him what she was saying. He ventured, ‘Are you… er… asking me to loan you the money, Lena? Now look here, you must know that I’m not a rich—’

  ‘Loan!’ she scoffed. ‘No, of course not, Ernest. We could never hope to pay that huge amount back. I’m asking you to give it me as a present.’

  His already bulging eyes almost popped out of his head and his jaw dropped. ‘What?’

  She eyed him warningly and spoke to him like she was a nanny scolding a naughty boy. ‘Now don’t get yourself in a tizzy, Ernest. Remember your blood pressure. I’m not expecting you to hand it over right this minute – you’ll need a bit of time to get it all together – but I want it tonight. Best not risk anyone catching you handing a wad of money over to me and wondering what it’s for; I’ll come back here after work when most people have gone home, tell the security guard I forgot my purse or something. Shall we say about eight? I’m sure you won’t have any trouble convincing that dear wife of yours that you’ve got to work late; after all, she’s used to it, isn’t she?’

  She saw him about to protest and snapped, ‘Don’t try and tell me that you haven’t got it, because I know you have. I know all about your little sideline in helping local businesses win lucrative council contracts, and the backhanders you get from them for your help. You keep the money locked in a cash box in your bottom drawer until you can get to the bank and deposit it in your private account, and the bank book’s taped under your desk. I know how much you’ve got in it too. More than I’ll earn in a lifetime. I’m your secretary, remember, and secretaries know everything about their bosses.

  ‘Like last week, for instance, Mr Granger of Granger Homes called in to invite you and your wife to a party to celebrate him landing the contract to build new council houses that you obviously had a hand in him getting, and I heard him say to you, “This should pay for a nice bit of jewellery for your wife.” And you laughed and said, “What my wife doesn’t know won’t hurt her.” What would your help in winning a huge housing contract be worth to Mr Granger? A few hundred at least, I’
m sure. Not bad for putting a good word in for someone in the right ear. Maybe it’s about time Mrs Dunster knew what her husband was up to behind her back, as it’s my guess you’re not planning to let her in on it until you retire and she gets up one morning to find you gone, leaving her high and dry.’

  His face turned a deep dark purple and he furiously blurted, ‘Now look here—’

  She again cut him short. ‘Oh, don’t bother to deny you’re on the make, Ernest. Virtually everyone who works for the council suspects you of being crooked. You’re just lucky you haven’t been caught at it yet. That’s maybe because the majority of the council are at it too in one way or another, so you cover each other’s backs. That’s why I applied for the job in the first place, because of what I’d heard about you when I was working in the typing pool. I knew that if I got it, I’d be in a position to find out if you really were on the make and work out how to get my hands on some of it.

  ‘I hadn’t a plan then of how I was going to blackmail you into giving me money, but it became clear to me the minute I was introduced to you. You couldn’t take your eyes off me.’ She sneered at him in disgust. ‘The thought of letting you have your way with me made me feel sick to my stomach, but if it gets me and Billy a better life, then a woman’s got to do what a woman’s got to do. You didn’t need any persuading to drop your trousers, did you; couldn’t get them down quick enough once I let you know I was willing.’

  She smiled slowly before she went on. ‘Well, Ernest, I’m sure your wife will be very interested to know that her husband has been regularly shagging his secretary. If she accuses me of lying, I’ve got all the times and dates listed in my diary that she can compare to the times you told her you’d be late home from a council meeting or one of those male-only do’s at your club. And how would I know you’ve got a mark at the top of your thigh that’s shaped like a star unless I’d seen you with your underpants off, or that hideous mole just under your belly button?

  ‘I dread to think what’d happen to your job if I went to Mr Musson the office manager over all the secretary's, and told him that you’d been blackmailing me into having sex with you by threatening to get me sacked without a favourable reference if I didn’t. Of course, that would be my word against yours and who’s going to believe a lowly secretary against a bigwig like you, but it would still damage your reputation and have people wondering if there was any truth in my allegations.’ She scowled at him darkly. ‘And you can stop looking at me like I’m the scum of the earth. I’m only doing what you are – making people pay for my services. I’m doing this to give me and Billy a better life, just the same as you are for when you retire.’ She smirked maliciously. ‘Oh, and just in case you’re wondering how I’ll explain the money away to Billy, I’m going to tell him I found it wedged down the seat on the bus home. I believe in finder’s keepers. Billy will be far too excited thinking what we can do with all that lovely dosh to be bothered how we got it anyway.’

  She eased herself off the edge of the desk and stood facing him. ‘You’ll be glad to know that once you give me the money, that’s the last you’ll see of me. I’ve a new job I start on Monday. I typed out my own glowing reference for it on your personal headed notepaper and forged your signature. Really lovely boss I’ll be working for too, a gentleman, not a pig like you.’ She rubbed her hands gleefully. ‘Oh, I’ve just remembered that the fair arrived today and Billy is taking me tonight, and with all that money in my hands I think I can spare a couple of quid for us to really enjoy ourselves and celebrate our good fortune.’ She leaned over and patted his arm. ‘I’ll see you tonight at eight. Now I’d best leave you to get ready for your meeting. You don’t want to be late, do you, Councillor Dunster?’

  His meeting could go to hell for all he cared. As soon as Lena had left, he shot over and locked the door, then returned to his desk, where he put a call through to the planning office, apologising for not being able to attend the meeting as something urgent had come up. Then he collapsed shaking into his chair and cradled his head despairingly in his hands.

  What a complete idiot he had been not to once question why a pretty young girl was throwing herself at a man old enough to be her father. He was going to pay dearly for his arrogance. He would have to cough up, because otherwise the consequences didn’t bear thinking about.

  He knew without looking, as he’d only counted it the other day when he’d got his backhander from Granger, that he had seven hundred and eighty pounds in his tin in the drawer, the proceeds from the last three favours he had done for local businessmen that he had not yet deposited in his secret bank account. He would have had eight hundred had he not spent twenty pounds on the bracelet for Lena. But that meant he was still two hundred and twenty pounds short of her demand. He had to give notice of at least five days to take money out of his secret bank account. He knew there was five thousand in his and his wife’s joint savings account, but again he needed to give notice to withdraw it, and when his wife checked the balance in the bank book that was kept in his desk drawer at home, she would want to know why he had taken out two hundred and twenty pounds without her knowledge, and what he had done with it.

  There should be about three hundred pounds in their current account, which his wife used to pay their household bills. He could go to the bank and withdraw the money he needed and then replace it in five days with money from his secret account. But what if Gertrude needed to pay bills in the meantime and the cheques bounced?

  His brain whirled, trying to think of any colleagues or acquaintances who might have as much cash as he was after lying around. Thankfully there were a couple. He was very optimistic that one of these two would come up trumps after all the favours he had done for them in the past, but as he replaced the phone receiver back in its cradle after the second call ended, he was plunged into a deep dark hole he could see no way out of. His first contact was out on business and wouldn’t be back until after six; his second, who owned a factory making cushions and curtains, had just lost a major contract and so had money worries of his own.

  He slumped back in his chair, wringing his hands, his life and the future he had planned shattering into smithereens around him. A vision reared up in which he was dressed like a tramp, ragged and filthy, sleeping rough. He gave a violent shudder. The thought of ending up like that terrified him. He had to get hold of that shortfall of money; he just had to.

  His thoughts whirled again, but with no one else he could think of to ask for a loan at such short notice, and no one who owed him any money, it seemed that it was all over for him. But then something Lena had said resonated in his brain. She had mentioned that the fair had come to town today and she was planning a visit with her fiancé tonight. At once, all the anger he felt towards her for her despicable blackmailing plot was pushed aside. He was far too jubilant about the fact that she had unwittingly given him an idea of how he could make the money he needed to pay her off. Then a greedy smile kinked his fat lips as an idea struck of a way to make himself a few pounds on top. The only thing that niggled away at him was that he might be too late and the money he was after getting his hands on had already been handed over.

  Without further ado, he grabbed up his telephone receiver and made a call.

  Chapter Ten

  The move from Stockport to Huddersfield, a distance of 27 miles, might be a leisurely couple of hours’ drive for most people, but for the fair community it was a major undertaking. The huge assortment of vehicles carrying their equipment and living accommodation had to travel a warren of narrow roads, many in poor condition, their surfaces uneven and peppered with potholes. As usual, lorries developed mechanical faults and drivers got lost, arriving hours late at their new destination. This could have put the erection of the fair ready for opening on Monday afternoon in severe jeopardy had not all the fair folk pulled together, most of them working an eighteen-hour day on the Sunday and snatching a couple of hours’ sleep before they were back at work at six on the Monday morning. It was import
ant to ensure that the fair opened on time, as not only would Grundy’s reputation have suffered, but valuable takings would be lost.

  At just after midday, Solly was about to breathe a sigh of relief that all was in order and he was safe to leave the rest of them to it so that he could go to the town hall to settle the fees due to the council for the fair’s seven-day stay when it came to his attention that the dodgems ride had lost its electrical supply and needed his expert attention. It wouldn’t do for the fair’s most popular and profitable attraction to be out of action. It seemed his visit to the town hall would have to be postponed until later.

  Anticipating that he might need help resolving the issue with the ride, and bearing in mind that time wasn’t on his side, Solly dispatched the gaff lad who had come to tell him of the problem in the first place – who happened to be Tom – to seek out the community’s Mr Fix-It, Gully Givens, and ask him to meet him at the ride.

  Ten minutes later, Tom returned to inform him that Gully was nowhere to be found. Probably, thought Solly, because the crusty middle-aged bachelor, thinking all was in order, had taken himself off down to the local pub for a much-needed pint, pie and chips.

  After assessing the situation, it seemed to Solly that there was a break in the electrical circuit somewhere on the ride, a big task for one man to locate. He needed help to resolve it, but there was no telling what pub Gully was in, so he would just have to tackle it himself and hope he could find the break in the cable and fix it before the punters started arriving.

  It had been a long time since breakfast, and Tom was by now ravenously hungry. There was bread, chips and a huge mug of tea waiting for him back at the van courtesy of Roger, who had fetched the chips from the local fryer. But it was obvious that the boss had a major problem on his hands, and it wasn’t in Tom’s nature to turn his back and walk away from anyone in need.