The Thing With Becky Pt 1
I’m exhausted.
Been a hella day-a hella weekend, actually, with much more drama than I really needed or required this close to going on the first ever Court Jesters tour. I have the feeling the drama has just started, too. Probably just as well I will be on the road/out of the country.
So, yesterday, yeah? Big Anniversary party for MDL Communications. 46th year and all that. Swanky digs, the whole tux-and-fancy-dress thing. I represented the Jesters, since The Geek was spending the weekend in Cardiff with the wife and kids. (Mrs Geek doing Doctor Who again; just as easy to stay out there than to try to get home and back.) Took Shelby as my date-her first real grown-up affair. She had a mint green strapless princess gown and did her hair in ringlets. She looked quite grown-up and made me feel somewhat old. Mother was there, of course, as were Caro and Teague, the CJ PA Ian and his boy-o, Uncle Eddie and his wife, plus a large assortment of employees, including Becky and Simon Fucking Cooper. Even the Pirates put in an appearance.
Things went pretty much how you would expect them to go for the first part: cocktails and socializing, followed by dinner. After dinner, though, the shite hit the fan. As is Father’s custom, he makes a speech while we’re all enjoying dessert, thanking everyone for another good year and recognizing those who had achieved significant anniversaries with the company or were retiring or had been promoted. A slew of underlings received a 5-year recognition; my PA received his 10-year one (good Kroll, 10 years already!) along with some other people; went upwards and onwards from there. Only one retiree this year-a wizened old-sort named Ken Broughton who had been the overall accounting manager since before my voice changed. All sorts of praise, a lovely plaque, and a fancy Apple Watch landed in Ken’s hands. Father then announced Ken’s replacement. He went on about how several people could have had the position, and it was a hard choice, but the new overall accounting manager would be Amy Montageau.
Said Amy Montageau-a handsome lady somewhere in her 40s-gasped with delight. The other accountants sitting near her offered her congratulations and such. Everyone’s attention fell onto that particular table… so no one missed Simon Fucking Cooper suddenly standing, pulling papers out of his tux pocket, handing said papers to his wife, and stalking off toward the bar.
Becky glanced at the papers-then shook her head and pulled them closer to her, to better read them. After a few moments she flung the papers down before fleeing the room. Naturally, we didn’t know how to react. The DJ, though, put on some music, and soon enough, people were distracted by dancing.
The papers remained at Becky’s place. After a while, with no sign of Becky returning, Father drifted over to the table, picking up the papers and glancing over them. His expression darkened; he tucked the papers into his jacket pocket and beelined for the bar, where Simon Fucking Cooper had taken up permanent residence. Not wanting to miss the fight, I headed over there as well.
“You’ve some nerve, Cooper,” Father growled. “Serving your wife divorce papers in the middle of a company function.”
“Yeah, well, I’m done with her. She wasn’t able to get me the Honeybears account, she wasn’t able to get me the head of accountancy position, she wasn’t able to give me an heir. She’s been a waste of time and attention the past 10 years. I’m done with her.”
“Guess what? I’m done with you.”
“What?”
“You’re fired.”
“You can’t do that!”
“Oh, can’t I? I may not run day-to-day operations any longer, but I’m certainly the final say. And I say you’re gone. You’ve only had your job as long as you have because of Rebecca. And since you’re not keeping her, there’s no reason for MDL to keep you.”
“Can’t I at least get my things?”
“Any personal possessions will be left at the reception desk for you Monday morning. Unfortunately, you will not be able to retrieve any proprietary information either in print or in electronic form.”
“I don’t believe you.”
Father shrugged, then pulled out his iPhone. He tapped a few buttons on the screen before holding it up to make a call. “Ah, Gunter, hello-yes, I know we’re both at the same function. Too important to try to find you on the dance floor…. Simon Cooper’s access to the building and the computer system is terminated immediately. Are you able to do the jiggery-pokery from here?... splendid. Sorry to bother you and enjoy the rest of the event.” He hung up and tucked his iPhone away. He then glared at Simon Fucking Cooper, an eyebrow raised in challenge.
“I’ll fucking sue.”
“Try it. You won’t succeed. Your personnel file will speak for itself. Now, you’d best leave before I have you thrown out. This event is for employees and clients only.”
Simon Fucking Cooper threw his drink in Father’s face and stomped out of the room.
Father pulled a handkerchief out and wiped his face. “Well, that could have been worse.”
“What a fucktard,” I commented. “To do that to Becky in public, at a company function….”
“Somehow I’m not surprised. He’s been brown-nosing it for years. And I’ve always suspected he married Rebecca for her connections to me. She seemed to like him well enough, so….”
“Next time I see him, I will deep fry his balls.”
“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. You’ve kept your nose clean for a dozen years, Colin; I’d hate for him to ruin the streak.” He signaled the bartender for a large bourbon on the rocks.
I wandered off then, to see if I could spot Becky in amongst the surging bodies on the dance floor. I saw no sign of her, so I asked Caro and several of the accounting ladies to keep an eye open for her. I then hit the dance floor to give all sorts of employees (mostly female but several males as well) a thrill with dancing with a Court Jester.
Tell the truth, I lost track of time, and track of what was up with Becky. It wasn’t until Shelby came running up to me that I even thought of things other than keeping people happy on the dance floor. “Dad-zor!” she exclaimed, skidding into me because of her shoes. “Miss Plumb’s holed up in the handicapped stall, freaking out. No one can get her out!”
“What makes you think I can?”
“I don’t know, you can calm me down when I’m freaking, maybe you can do the same for her. It would be worth a try, at least! Ms. Southwick says she’s been at it forever.”
“All right-- you’ve talked me into it.” I offered Shelby my arm; she took it, preening a bit at the admiring looks we received as we headed for the washroom. Once in front of the door, I sent her in to make sure no other woman was inside, then set her to guard duty while I entered.
Becky’s sobs permeated the room. Trying to stay chipper, I planted myself in front of the door to the handicapped stall. “Becky, darling, what’s all this, then? Is that wanker really worth your tears?”
The sobs stopped; the door flung open and Becky launched herself into my arms. “Oh, Colin, it’s not fair.”
“No, it’s not, darling, but it’s also not fair for you to camp out in the washroom when so many others could avail themselves of the handicapped stall. Come back to the party with me?”
“I suppose that’s the best.”
We returned to the party. Becky headed for her table, blanching when the divorce papers weren’t there. “Father has them,” I murmured. “They aren’t going any place but to a barrister recommended by our legal team. You’re so much more important than he is. MDL will take care of you.”
“Thanks, Colin.” She sat, tucking a stray hair behind her ear. I chose the seat to her right, leaning toward her so she could better hear me. “Did you have any clue this was coming?”
“No. Yes. Perhaps. I don’t know!”
“All right, fair enough. He’s always been a bit of a creeper. The way he hit on ‘Colleen’ and all….”
“Oh, he’s always looked at other women. I figured it came with the territory. Doesn’t every man window shop, even if they have one at home?”
I shrugged. “I wouldn’t know. I’ve never had one at home.”
She stroked my chin then. “Pity.”
“Oh, and how much have you had to drink, Miss Plumb?”
“Not enough. I’m still shell shocked and hurting from being served papers.” She made a face then, glancing down at her wrist. She wore an Apple Watch; she poked at the screen, reading it before blanching. “The bastard,” she hissed.
“What’s up?”
She showed me the screen. Simon Fucking Cooper had sent her a text noting that he was tossing all of her belongings on the lawn and she had best claim them prior to the neighborhood scrounging for them.
“All right, then. We are calmly going to recruit helpers and find some trashbags, and then we’re going to go over there and claim your belongings, and then find you some place to stay tonight. I’ll go alert Father…”
“Oh, no, don’t involve Sir Michael! He thinks so poorly of me.”
“He does not. He handed your soon-to-be-ex his arse on a plate.”
“What?”
“He fired him, and revoked his building and computer access in front of him.”
“Oh my!”
“You’ve been his right hand for 10 years, darling, how could he not have your back?”
She blushed at that. I took her hand, made her stand, and said, “Let’s call in the possie.”
I pulled her around the room, talking to Teague, Caro, Father, Mother, Uncle Eddie, Ian and his boy-o and Shelby, cluing them in that we needed to get to Shepard’s Bush asap to retrieve Becky’s things. We found large garbage bags in the kitchen. Ignoring our finery, we hopped into several cars and sped for the northwest part of town.
Sure enough, the front lawn of their detached home bore the contents of Becky’s closets and drawers. Using our smart phones as torches, we all gathered up as much as we could, as quietly as we could. Simon Fucking Cooper spotted us eventually and threatened to call the authorities. Father and I gave him the up-yours in unison. He continued to hang out of an upper storey window hurling abuse.
Once the yard had been fairly cleaned up, I looked up at him. “Is that all of Becky’s things, you wanker?”
“The jewellery is mine.”
“Not my mother’s engagement ring!” Becky yelled.
“Most especially that, because it’s the only thing of yours that’s worth anything.”
“You creep!”
“You barren, no good cunt!”
Father placed a consoling arm around Becky then. “We’ll get it back in the trial, don’t you worry about that. Now, you need a place to stay tonight. We have room at our place….”
“Oh, goodness, Sir Michael, I couldn’t…”
Shelby piped up with, “You can hang with Dad-zor and me. We’ve an extra room. If that’s more comfortable, that is.”
Becky met my gaze. “If you wouldn’t mind, Col…?”
I shrugged. “No worries. Wouldn’t be the first time.”
We loaded my car up with as many bags as it could hold; the rest went into Father’s car. Everyone else waved and drove off. My parents followed me and Shelby and Becky back to Ealing and my home. It took few minutes to unload everything into my lounge. My parents hugged both Shelby and myself, took Becky’s hand for a moment, and presumably returned to the party.
“Well, well, well,” I said. “I suggest pajamas and hot chocolate all around.”
“With perhaps something a little stronger?” Becky added hopefully.
“For you, yes. Shelbs, would you show Becky the guest room and bath?”
“Sure, Dad-zor. It’s just this way…” Shelby led Becky up the stairs. I collapsed on the sofa, loosening my bowtie. What a strange, frustrating evening.
Little did I know things would get worse.
And yeah, leaving it on that cliffhanger because I need my beauty sleep and fuck me but I have to deal with all sorts of final pre-tour meetings tomorrow.
Been a hella day-a hella weekend, actually, with much more drama than I really needed or required this close to going on the first ever Court Jesters tour. I have the feeling the drama has just started, too. Probably just as well I will be on the road/out of the country.
So, yesterday, yeah? Big Anniversary party for MDL Communications. 46th year and all that. Swanky digs, the whole tux-and-fancy-dress thing. I represented the Jesters, since The Geek was spending the weekend in Cardiff with the wife and kids. (Mrs Geek doing Doctor Who again; just as easy to stay out there than to try to get home and back.) Took Shelby as my date-her first real grown-up affair. She had a mint green strapless princess gown and did her hair in ringlets. She looked quite grown-up and made me feel somewhat old. Mother was there, of course, as were Caro and Teague, the CJ PA Ian and his boy-o, Uncle Eddie and his wife, plus a large assortment of employees, including Becky and Simon Fucking Cooper. Even the Pirates put in an appearance.
Things went pretty much how you would expect them to go for the first part: cocktails and socializing, followed by dinner. After dinner, though, the shite hit the fan. As is Father’s custom, he makes a speech while we’re all enjoying dessert, thanking everyone for another good year and recognizing those who had achieved significant anniversaries with the company or were retiring or had been promoted. A slew of underlings received a 5-year recognition; my PA received his 10-year one (good Kroll, 10 years already!) along with some other people; went upwards and onwards from there. Only one retiree this year-a wizened old-sort named Ken Broughton who had been the overall accounting manager since before my voice changed. All sorts of praise, a lovely plaque, and a fancy Apple Watch landed in Ken’s hands. Father then announced Ken’s replacement. He went on about how several people could have had the position, and it was a hard choice, but the new overall accounting manager would be Amy Montageau.
Said Amy Montageau-a handsome lady somewhere in her 40s-gasped with delight. The other accountants sitting near her offered her congratulations and such. Everyone’s attention fell onto that particular table… so no one missed Simon Fucking Cooper suddenly standing, pulling papers out of his tux pocket, handing said papers to his wife, and stalking off toward the bar.
Becky glanced at the papers-then shook her head and pulled them closer to her, to better read them. After a few moments she flung the papers down before fleeing the room. Naturally, we didn’t know how to react. The DJ, though, put on some music, and soon enough, people were distracted by dancing.
The papers remained at Becky’s place. After a while, with no sign of Becky returning, Father drifted over to the table, picking up the papers and glancing over them. His expression darkened; he tucked the papers into his jacket pocket and beelined for the bar, where Simon Fucking Cooper had taken up permanent residence. Not wanting to miss the fight, I headed over there as well.
“You’ve some nerve, Cooper,” Father growled. “Serving your wife divorce papers in the middle of a company function.”
“Yeah, well, I’m done with her. She wasn’t able to get me the Honeybears account, she wasn’t able to get me the head of accountancy position, she wasn’t able to give me an heir. She’s been a waste of time and attention the past 10 years. I’m done with her.”
“Guess what? I’m done with you.”
“What?”
“You’re fired.”
“You can’t do that!”
“Oh, can’t I? I may not run day-to-day operations any longer, but I’m certainly the final say. And I say you’re gone. You’ve only had your job as long as you have because of Rebecca. And since you’re not keeping her, there’s no reason for MDL to keep you.”
“Can’t I at least get my things?”
“Any personal possessions will be left at the reception desk for you Monday morning. Unfortunately, you will not be able to retrieve any proprietary information either in print or in electronic form.”
“I don’t believe you.”
Father shrugged, then pulled out his iPhone. He tapped a few buttons on the screen before holding it up to make a call. “Ah, Gunter, hello-yes, I know we’re both at the same function. Too important to try to find you on the dance floor…. Simon Cooper’s access to the building and the computer system is terminated immediately. Are you able to do the jiggery-pokery from here?... splendid. Sorry to bother you and enjoy the rest of the event.” He hung up and tucked his iPhone away. He then glared at Simon Fucking Cooper, an eyebrow raised in challenge.
“I’ll fucking sue.”
“Try it. You won’t succeed. Your personnel file will speak for itself. Now, you’d best leave before I have you thrown out. This event is for employees and clients only.”
Simon Fucking Cooper threw his drink in Father’s face and stomped out of the room.
Father pulled a handkerchief out and wiped his face. “Well, that could have been worse.”
“What a fucktard,” I commented. “To do that to Becky in public, at a company function….”
“Somehow I’m not surprised. He’s been brown-nosing it for years. And I’ve always suspected he married Rebecca for her connections to me. She seemed to like him well enough, so….”
“Next time I see him, I will deep fry his balls.”
“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. You’ve kept your nose clean for a dozen years, Colin; I’d hate for him to ruin the streak.” He signaled the bartender for a large bourbon on the rocks.
I wandered off then, to see if I could spot Becky in amongst the surging bodies on the dance floor. I saw no sign of her, so I asked Caro and several of the accounting ladies to keep an eye open for her. I then hit the dance floor to give all sorts of employees (mostly female but several males as well) a thrill with dancing with a Court Jester.
Tell the truth, I lost track of time, and track of what was up with Becky. It wasn’t until Shelby came running up to me that I even thought of things other than keeping people happy on the dance floor. “Dad-zor!” she exclaimed, skidding into me because of her shoes. “Miss Plumb’s holed up in the handicapped stall, freaking out. No one can get her out!”
“What makes you think I can?”
“I don’t know, you can calm me down when I’m freaking, maybe you can do the same for her. It would be worth a try, at least! Ms. Southwick says she’s been at it forever.”
“All right-- you’ve talked me into it.” I offered Shelby my arm; she took it, preening a bit at the admiring looks we received as we headed for the washroom. Once in front of the door, I sent her in to make sure no other woman was inside, then set her to guard duty while I entered.
Becky’s sobs permeated the room. Trying to stay chipper, I planted myself in front of the door to the handicapped stall. “Becky, darling, what’s all this, then? Is that wanker really worth your tears?”
The sobs stopped; the door flung open and Becky launched herself into my arms. “Oh, Colin, it’s not fair.”
“No, it’s not, darling, but it’s also not fair for you to camp out in the washroom when so many others could avail themselves of the handicapped stall. Come back to the party with me?”
“I suppose that’s the best.”
We returned to the party. Becky headed for her table, blanching when the divorce papers weren’t there. “Father has them,” I murmured. “They aren’t going any place but to a barrister recommended by our legal team. You’re so much more important than he is. MDL will take care of you.”
“Thanks, Colin.” She sat, tucking a stray hair behind her ear. I chose the seat to her right, leaning toward her so she could better hear me. “Did you have any clue this was coming?”
“No. Yes. Perhaps. I don’t know!”
“All right, fair enough. He’s always been a bit of a creeper. The way he hit on ‘Colleen’ and all….”
“Oh, he’s always looked at other women. I figured it came with the territory. Doesn’t every man window shop, even if they have one at home?”
I shrugged. “I wouldn’t know. I’ve never had one at home.”
She stroked my chin then. “Pity.”
“Oh, and how much have you had to drink, Miss Plumb?”
“Not enough. I’m still shell shocked and hurting from being served papers.” She made a face then, glancing down at her wrist. She wore an Apple Watch; she poked at the screen, reading it before blanching. “The bastard,” she hissed.
“What’s up?”
She showed me the screen. Simon Fucking Cooper had sent her a text noting that he was tossing all of her belongings on the lawn and she had best claim them prior to the neighborhood scrounging for them.
“All right, then. We are calmly going to recruit helpers and find some trashbags, and then we’re going to go over there and claim your belongings, and then find you some place to stay tonight. I’ll go alert Father…”
“Oh, no, don’t involve Sir Michael! He thinks so poorly of me.”
“He does not. He handed your soon-to-be-ex his arse on a plate.”
“What?”
“He fired him, and revoked his building and computer access in front of him.”
“Oh my!”
“You’ve been his right hand for 10 years, darling, how could he not have your back?”
She blushed at that. I took her hand, made her stand, and said, “Let’s call in the possie.”
I pulled her around the room, talking to Teague, Caro, Father, Mother, Uncle Eddie, Ian and his boy-o and Shelby, cluing them in that we needed to get to Shepard’s Bush asap to retrieve Becky’s things. We found large garbage bags in the kitchen. Ignoring our finery, we hopped into several cars and sped for the northwest part of town.
Sure enough, the front lawn of their detached home bore the contents of Becky’s closets and drawers. Using our smart phones as torches, we all gathered up as much as we could, as quietly as we could. Simon Fucking Cooper spotted us eventually and threatened to call the authorities. Father and I gave him the up-yours in unison. He continued to hang out of an upper storey window hurling abuse.
Once the yard had been fairly cleaned up, I looked up at him. “Is that all of Becky’s things, you wanker?”
“The jewellery is mine.”
“Not my mother’s engagement ring!” Becky yelled.
“Most especially that, because it’s the only thing of yours that’s worth anything.”
“You creep!”
“You barren, no good cunt!”
Father placed a consoling arm around Becky then. “We’ll get it back in the trial, don’t you worry about that. Now, you need a place to stay tonight. We have room at our place….”
“Oh, goodness, Sir Michael, I couldn’t…”
Shelby piped up with, “You can hang with Dad-zor and me. We’ve an extra room. If that’s more comfortable, that is.”
Becky met my gaze. “If you wouldn’t mind, Col…?”
I shrugged. “No worries. Wouldn’t be the first time.”
We loaded my car up with as many bags as it could hold; the rest went into Father’s car. Everyone else waved and drove off. My parents followed me and Shelby and Becky back to Ealing and my home. It took few minutes to unload everything into my lounge. My parents hugged both Shelby and myself, took Becky’s hand for a moment, and presumably returned to the party.
“Well, well, well,” I said. “I suggest pajamas and hot chocolate all around.”
“With perhaps something a little stronger?” Becky added hopefully.
“For you, yes. Shelbs, would you show Becky the guest room and bath?”
“Sure, Dad-zor. It’s just this way…” Shelby led Becky up the stairs. I collapsed on the sofa, loosening my bowtie. What a strange, frustrating evening.
Little did I know things would get worse.
And yeah, leaving it on that cliffhanger because I need my beauty sleep and fuck me but I have to deal with all sorts of final pre-tour meetings tomorrow.