The Stone Read online

  18: A Chance to help

  Waterloo station concourse

  Edmund had spent three years back in his own town, since he had left Brian in charge of his bungalow in Southbourne. But he was not able to find what he was looking for. His life at work was not fulfilling, and he was unable to live to the same rules as he was used to. In short, his talents were not valued in the large corporate business he was working at.

  His job was controller of a forty strong team of ladies who ran the Credit Control and the huge Sales Ledger. The woman supervisor took an instant dislike to Edmund, she was a bit of a battle-axe and most of the female staff hated her. She wore the hate like a badge. The only way he was able to gain respect from her, was to do the job better than she could. So this was Edmund’s task.

  She was dreadfully overweight, and this caused her to have health problems. At one point she was sick for several weeks, and this gave Edmund the opportunity. He computerised the Credit reporting information to the Finance Director, which gave him the opportunity to see what was happening to the £70 million ledger as it happened. Edmund told the Director that it was the Supervisor’s idea, he just wrote the spreadsheet program.

  When the battleaxe finally returned, she was called into the bosses’ office and was congratulated with a pay rise for her efforts. At the time, Edmund was working in the Computer room looking all innocent, when she came in to apologise for her attitude to him and it was sweetness and light from then on, with her.

  Courtaulds was a big company. The division that he worked at employed six thousand people in eighteen factories all over the UK including Northern Ireland. Each month his other task was to print out the miles of paper that enabled the accountants to do the monthly accounts. This monthly task took the computer twenty four hours to complete, and Edmund had to work overnight to watch that the machines worked OK. The Director was the only person who held the security key, which had to be double locked at night and Edmund had to borrow that key from his secretary each month.

  At around nine in the evening, Edmund and his assistant would go down to the local pub for a pint and a game of pool to kill the monotony. This particular night, the director was ‘working’ late with his very attractive secretary, and he’d forgotten that Edmund had the only key. He wanted to leave, but it coincided with the time Edmund was at the pub. So, therefore having not found him he promptly tried to climb out of a ground floor window with her. Unfortunately for the Director, a police patrol spotted him and put them both into custody.

  The next morning all hell had broken loose. In the offices Edmund was a hero, but not with the Director. Edmund knew the character of this man, and he knew that he would use his power to ‘return the favour’. Just as Edmund had predicted, within a few weeks he was given the task to close a factory that the company owned in the Falls Road in Belfast. It was during the height of the troubles there. The hotel he stayed at had been bombed thirty nine times, it was called the Europa Hotel.

  The unfortunate factory was called Steegan and the offices where Edmund worked were on the ninth floor. During the first week he was disturbed by a huge ‘whooshing’ noise that was getting louder and louder. As he looked out of the window, slowly rising up from the lower floor was an Army helicopter. The two occupants looked inside the offices. One waved at Edmund, as it sped away. The machine was no more than ten yards away from the window. Edmund looked around at the other occupants in the office and no one even looked up!

  The second incident was even scarier. He worked at the Belfast factory for a full week at a time, leaving East Midlands airport on a Monday and flying back from Aldergrove airport on the five o’clock flight on the Friday. He always managed to get this flight, with the exception of one particular Friday. The resident Director of the factory wanted to discus some point or other with Edmund and he was told to wait in his office at four.

  Two things were making Edmund nervous. Firstly there was no director, and secondly he needed to get to Aldergrove in time for the flight. It was gone five when the Director turned up and it was already getting dark. After a short meeting Edmund arranged a lift to the airport, and for once he was heading there at night. After driving out of Belfast, the road was narrow and dark. The driver was apparently taking a short-cut. Edmund saw the lights on the horizon for the approaching airport, but the driver suddenly stopped to avoid an unmarked car in the middle of the road blocking their way.

  The occupants of the car were UDF, and after looking at their papers, let them proceed. Edmund, however feared the worst, and not for the first time thought that ‘his number was up’, enough was enough! He decided to pack the job in, the Director had won.

  Back at his home town, the school friends he grew up with were not on his wavelength. Not their fault, of course, but because he had experienced different challenges in his formative years, he wasn’t able to connect with them. They had all settled down to a family lifestyle and he felt the time was not yet right for him.

  The hardest thing was to tell his own family that he had to return down south, but thankfully they understood. Before he left, he decided to call on Paul’s brother Mark, who was older than him. Edmund hoped that Paul had kept in contact, so that he could get his latest address and phone number.

  In the years he had spent at his hometown, he spent all his holidays back in Southbourne, checking out his bungalow.

  ‘This is my home now’ he finally admitted to himself.

  The journey ‘home’ was long and arduous but the closer he got, the more comfortable he felt, until when arriving at his drive, he was positively excited again. He had had the forethought to ring Brian to let him know that he was returning permanently, so to check everything out for him. Once he had unloaded his cases and put a few things away, there was no need to cook. He just drove along the cliff road to the cafe at Fisherman’s Walk and had a relaxing meal. Afterwards he walked the few steps to the cliffside and drank in the fresh air, something he had missed for three years.

  ‘This is my new start,’ he said to himself as he clutched the stone. ‘I’m ready for the next stage in my life, bring it on.’

  The local agency had placed him in a couple of temporary assignments but they were only short term. The most important thing was not to rush into any old job; he knew there was no pressure, as yet. Instead he decided to ‘step back’ from it all and give Paul a ring.

  ‘Well I’ll go to Trent! How are you old buddy?’ Paul answered enthusiastically.

  ‘What are you doing at the moment Paul, working?’ Edmund asked.

  ‘Well, Eddie, not at the moment, just finished an ad for British Gas, not much acting, but it pays the rent.’

  ‘I’m coming up to London at the weekend, do you fancy meeting up, my old pal?’ Edmund asked him.

  ‘Be great, have you got my address?’ Paul asked, and Edmund said he had. ‘I’ll see you on Saturday pal, we’ve certainly got some catching up to do, right?’

  ‘I can’t believe that it’s been fourteen years mate, can you remember that day in Ashford when we went our separate ways? I’ll tell you all about me on Saturday, see you then, bye.’ Edmund chuckled.

  ‘OK, see ya.’ Paul’s voice was laughing as Edmund put the phone down.

  Even on Saturday, Waterloo was full with travellers. They were looking at train times, meeting arrivals of friends, and seeing people off, or, just like Edmund, standing and looking. He placed his weekend bag on the floor for a moment to look for the underground and suddenly a large man walked by him and tripped over Edmund’s bag. He managed to stop himself from falling.

  ‘Really sorry, buddy I guess I wasn’t looking where I was going!’

  ‘Hello Ben.’

  ‘Do I know you buddy? I can’t quite place you, I.... Oh no, is it you? Yes it’s you ain’t it? You’re the guy we met in Cannes. You’re Edmund, am I right? Vera, Vera!’ Ben shouted across the concourse. ‘Look who’s here! Coming through the melee, and pulling her suitcase over people’s toes, she rushed over, a
nd gave Edmund a hug with tears in her eyes.

  ‘Look you two, there’s a coffee shop just there, fancy a quick cup before you go?’ Edmund asked.

  Ben smiled, ‘sure, we gat time, Edmund, we’re only catching the train to Bournemouth to see my mom.’

  ‘I live there too Ben, I’m just up here to see Paul, I haven’t seen him for such a long time, and he lives in London.’ Said Edmund

  ‘I bet he’s an actor, am I right?’ Vera asked. Edmund smiled and nodded.

  Ben placed his hand on Edmund’s shoulder. ‘I just can’t believe it, meeting you here. You know Edmund; since we met in ’64 we have always wondered how you were doin. That’s right, ain’t it honey?’

  Vera looked at Edmund. ‘Do you remember what you said Edmund, you were going to make a million, did you do it?’

  ‘Maybe not yet Vera, but I’m getting close. Things don’t happen that quickly over here.’ They all laughed together. ‘Listen you guys, how long are you going to be over here?’ Edmund asked them.

  ‘We’re flying back on Friday, why don’t we meet up old buddy and we can catch up’ Ben looked at Vera.

  ‘You bet.’ she said.

  ‘Have you got anything to write on, Vera?’ Edmund asked her. She pulled out a couple of postcards that she had just bought. Edmund wrote down his address and phone number, and Vera did the same.

  ‘We’re staying at the Royal Bath hotel for the week Edmund. Is that a good hotel?’ Ben asked him.

  ‘Sure is Ben, it’s the best one in Bournemouth. I’ll be home tomorrow, I’ll call you then’ He hugged them both and they soon disappeared into the throng. Ben looked back for a final wave.

  ‘Bye! See you very soon’ he shouted over the noise.

  After the surprising meeting with Ben and Vera it was time to make his way to Paul’s. He looked at the address, Kingsland Green, north of Dalston Junction tube station. He looked at a London Tube map and checked the route.

  ‘Get on to the District line, go east and change at Whitechapel, then north to Dalston.’ Edmund wrote on a piece of paper. It was a short walk but he found it wasn’t the most walker- friendly route. No one smiled at him, and he didn’t really feel like asking anyone in the street for directions.

  He approached the front door of a Victorian tenement three-story house. The front door was unlocked, and he knew that Paul was on the third floor. Lots of strange sounds and smells were coming from each door he passed on the way up. He started to climb up the final staircase, uncarpeted and paint flaking. The sound of blues reached his ears. He recognised it as Van Morrison’s ‘Madam George’ from the Astral Weeks album. It was definitely coming from the door of the flat facing the road.

  He was about to knock, when it flew open. A once beautiful blonde young girl with dreadlocks and wearing a multi coloured kaftan rushed by, leaving the door open. A voice came from inside.

  ‘I didn’t mean it love, honestly.’ A voice said from inside the flat. Edmund could hear her banging down the stairs, so he quietly walked in.

  ‘Oh yes you bloody well did.’ Edmund jokingly shouted.

  ‘Edmund old mate, come here!’ Paul turned around and held his arms out and they hugged. ‘How long has it been?’ he asked.

  ‘Fifteen years give or take a few.’ Edmund sniffed the air, a mixture of acrid and sickly sweet. ‘Bloody pot! You’re smoking pot.’

  ‘We’re in a different time warp up here Eddie; we’ve thrown the rule book away here in Dalston.’ Paul laughed.

  ‘Is that the latest bird that flew out none too pleased with you?’ Edmund asked as he pointed towards the door.

  ‘She prefers older men, if you know what I mean. She goes for the ones that appeal to her mind. The young guys are only after one thing.’ Paul said sarcastically.

  ‘I’ll remember that one next time I take up with a young filly like that.’ Edmund said raising his eyebrows.

  Most of the afternoon and evening was spent hearing all about Paul’s work, conquests, even jobs that he was in the running for but never got. It was a trip into fantasyland for Edmund but he enjoyed every minute of it.

  He gave Paul some money to get some fish and chips and a bottle of wine. He bought a litre of Bulgarian red, and Paul drank most of it.

  ‘What’s wrong mate, you used to drink me under the table at one time. Can you remember that competition we had on Invicta?’ Paul asked.

  Edmund laughed. ‘Do you mean, who could drink the most cans of Special Brew in one night?’

  ‘Yes, matey, and you were still going at eight.’ Paul answered.

  ‘There was nothing else to do on that rusty old tin can, was there?’ Edmund remarked as he recalled the appalling conditions they worked in..

  Edmund shacked up on the couch in the end; Paul staggered into his bedroom totally out of it with too much Bulgarian red. Maybe Edmund should have drunk some of it himself, as there was to be no sleep on the couch for him. He looked at his watch, lit by the streetlight. It was two thirty in the morning. No one seemed to sleep in that area. It was like a Caribbean carnival night. Loud music, heavy drumbeat, shouting and screaming, and car horns blasting under the window! There was no time for a shave or wash, he just wanted to leave, it was six am and he was ready to get back to some sanity.

  During the night’s talking, Paul had given Edmund a copy folder of his acting profile that he used in his job interviews, and Edmund put that in his bag. He pulled out an envelope and checked inside, there were two hundred pounds in fivers. He found a piece of paper on the floor tore off the unwritten part and found a pen in his bag.

  He wrote on the paper his home number and a little message:

  ’I’m not staying at this place any more, it’s too expensive. Take care of yourself Paul.- Edmund.’ He knew that Paul would see the funny side of that.

  Edmund tiptoed into Paul’s bedroom; there was no need to, as he was fast on. Placing the envelope on a wicker chair next to the bed, he quietly closed the door and went out of the flat.

  ‘Bye old mate’ he whispered.

  No underground this time. He decided to catch a cab outside The Duke of Wellington pub on Balls Pond Road. It dropped him inside the concourse of Waterloo Station.

  By seven thirty, he was on the train, sitting looking out of the carriage window watching the dreary grey flats roll by, but he was heading for home and the sea.

  Edmund’s mind was never at rest. This time as he sat on the train, he was hatching a plan that would involve Ben and Vera and would benefit Paul. That is, if he had any sense to take the opportunity that would be offered.

  ‘Hello?’ A soft warm voice answered the phone, and Edmund knew instantly who it was.

  ‘Is that Mrs Cohen? This is Edmund. Can I speak to your son Ben if he’s there? I believe he’s visiting you this week’

  ‘Are you ringing from New York, young man?’ Ben’s mother asked.

  ‘Actually, no I’m ringing from Bournemouth, Mrs Cohen.’

  ‘Hi Edmund, glad you’re home safe old buddy, what’s up?’ Ben’s voice came on the line.

  ‘I wonder if you might be free for a while tomorrow. I’d very much like to talk to you.’ Edmund asked.

  ‘Hi Edmund, Vera here, could you come to dinner tonight at our hotel, we’d love it if you’d come.’ Edmund heard Ben’s voice booming to tell him to come. ‘Ben’s mum will be there and I know she’ll love to meet you. Will you hun?’

  ‘I haven’t got a dinner jacket Vera; I know you have to wear one in your hotel.’ Edmund said apologetically.

  ‘Well, come in your buckskins then, we don’t care.’ followed by loud laughter from Ben, who took the receiver again.

  ‘Look buddy, you English are so self-conscious. Nothing to worry about, we are in the something suite, ah yes, the De Vere Suite, and we have our own dining room with a waiter laid on, so come how you like buddy, we ain’t dressing up neither.’ Ben insisted.

  Edmund had never been in the Royal Bath Hotel before, the hotel reception was awesome b
ut he hid his embarrassment.

  ‘Mr Cohen please, I am expected.’ The doorman led him to the lift and pressed for the third floor and bowed to him.

  The dinner was exquisite, the service was perfect, and Ben was on top form, which is when he could get a word in between Edmund and his mother. When Edmund looked around at both of his hosts they were content to let Edmund make his mother laugh. It was a wonderful night. Near the end of the evening, Ben finally got a word in.

  ‘You said on the phone that you wanted to ask me something Edmund?’

  ‘Well, Ben this isn’t the time or place, but do you have any time tomorrow? I should like to invite you to my home, it’s only a little bungalow, not far from here, and I can ask you then.’ Edmund said.

  ‘Am I invited Edmund?’ Vera asked.

  ‘Yes of course Vera. It’s only a little bachelor pad though, nothing you’re used to, you can certainly wear your buckskins there.’ Edmund smiled at them and Ben and Vera laughed at his remark.