EPISODE ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY-ONE
Ted Dorling glanced
at his watch and Ted Blackburn knew the meeting was coming to a close.
‘All I can do is reiterate that you will be entitled to half the house,’ said
the solicitor. ‘I would seriously think about this before you do anything rash
you might regret later.’
Ted shifted uncomfortably, and wished he was wearing clothes similar to the
solicitor: grey single-breasted suit, pale blue shirt and discreet silver
tie. But here he was, wondering what the
solicitor made of this middle-aged man, wearing what he thought of as a rather
flashy brown leather jacket over a blue, green and white check shirt. Not what
he would have chosen in a million years! But Donald had taken him shopping and
had insisted on him purchasing them.
He cleared his throat gently and quietly before replying. ‘But I thought as she
had inherited the house from her grandmother...’
The solicitor waved it aside; somewhat impatiently, Ted thought.
‘If it was the other way round, and it was you
who had inherited the house, she would be legally entitled to half. It works
both ways you know.’
Ted nodded emphatically and gave the solicitor a crafty smile. ‘Here’s what I’d
like you to do then: write to her solicitor and go for half the house. Only we won’t really go for it.’
The solicitor frowned. ‘I don’t understand.’
‘I’d like her to think that’s what’s
happening. Then I can use that to obtain more access to my daughter. Perhaps
even custody.’
‘I think these are separate issues.’
Ted, whose confidence had soared since he had won the lottery and moved in with
Donald, tapped the edge of the solicitor’s desk for emphasis.
‘Nevertheless, I would like you to let her solicitor think that’s what I’m
going for: half the house. Then, further down the line, we can start to
negotiate and make other demands.’
Ted Dorling nodded, and a small glint came into his eye. He could see this dispute would be a long
running saga.
*
Craig watched his sister as she took a customer’s order. Her smile was forced,
and there was tension in her shoulders. In fact, her body looked tight and
tense, and he knew she was struggling against temptation. As soon she had taken
the order through to the kitchen and returned to the bar, Craig approached her
with a smile.
‘Well done, Maggs. I’m proud of you. I
know how hard this must be.’
When she stared back at her brother, her eyes were unnervingly cold and
unfriendly.
‘As soon as the lunchtime rush is over,’ she said, and nodded, as if she’d
already made up her mind about something, talking to the voices in her head.
‘What?’ asked Craig.
She looked at him without any indication of having understood their
conversation, and Craig realised she was on her own wave length.
Craig decided to push for a response. ‘You said: “As soon as the lunchtime rush
is over”. What, Maggs? Finish the sentence. What’s happening as soon
as the lunchtime’s over.’
‘You don’t believe I can do it, do you?’
‘You’re not making any sense, Maggs.’ Craig said.
‘I mean,’ she hissed, leaning forward across the counter, ‘I can control my
drinking. Just have the odd one when I want it. And I intend to do just that.
Just the one glass in the afternoon.’
Out of the corner of his eye, Craig caught Mandy looking over at them, as if
she knew what they were discussing.
‘As long as it is just the one
glass,’ Craig told his sister.
Maggie poked him in the chest, an irritating and provoking action that wound
him up when he was a youngster. He couldn’t ever remember her doing it as an
adult.
‘Just remember,’ she said fiercely, ‘who owns this place.’
A hurt look in his eye, Craig retaliated with a lame, ‘I sold the chippie for a
part share in your wine bar.’
‘And who gave you the chippie in the first place?’
Craig could feel his hands balling into fists as he tried to control his
temper.
‘Oh for God’s sakes have a glass of wine. I think I preferred you when you were
pissed.’
He stormed into the kitchen and came out seconds later carrying his and Mandy’s
coats.
‘Where are you going?’ Maggie demanded.
‘We’ve put in hours of extra time at this place covering for you. Me and Mandy
deserve some time off. Anyway, I think you can cope now the rush is over.’
Craig grabbed Mandy’s arm as she was about to clear a table, and they both left
the building, leaving Maggie alone behind the bar. She stared at the row of white wine in the
cabinet, glistening with refreshing ice dew, and she reached for a glass. And
then, as her resolve was about to break, she looked across the wine bar and saw
a customer had been carefully watching her, and then turned away to say something
to his friends, followed by everyone falling about laughing.
She knew they were talking about her, and she wondered if they’d been in the
wine bar the night she and Mike had been drunk under the table.
Although she desperately needed the wine, she grabbed a bottle of orange J2O,
instead.
*
Mike’s mobile bleeped as he sank half his pint in the White Hart. He clicked
for the text message. “On my own at
work. Can u help me out 4 few hrs. Maggs,” he read
He sent her back a text saying he’d be there in half an hour - just enough time to sink another pint and
catch the bus outside Onestop – when in walked Ivor, a saucy grin on his face.
He ordered his usual pint of Guinness and came and sat on a bar stool next to Mike.
‘You look pleased with yourself,’ Mike said.
Ivor’s smile spread lasciviously. ‘I’ve got the photographs developed.’
Mike gave him a puzzled frown. ‘I’m not with you.’
Ivor fumbled in his pockets and brought out a wallet of photographs. ‘Feast
your eyes on those.’
Mike took them out of the wallet and thumbed through them. He whistled quietly
as his eyes widened, then looked at Ivor questioningly.
‘But these pictures are of you and your Thai woman in bed together.’
Ivor nodded furiously, and looked even more pleased with himself. ‘I know. She’s a bit of all right, isn’t
she?’
‘Yeah, not bad. Not bad. But tell me something, Ivor...who took the photos?’
‘Her mother.’
Mike’s mouth dropped open before he spoke, parodying incredulity. ‘Let me get
this straight: her mother took pictures of you two in bed together. That’s a
bit kinky, isn’t it?’
Ivor shrugged, ‘You can’t see anything happening. I mean it’s not as if we
was...not doing anything like, when her mother took the pictures. We were covered up...under the sheets.’
Mike deliberately blew out a sigh of relief. ‘Oh, I’m glad about that. That
makes it perfectly all right.’
IN EPISODE 152
Marjorie Blackburn throws a fit.