Judith Wants To Be Your Friend (5 page)

‘You look terrified, Kate. Are you going to ask me for a pay rise? If you are, the answer is yes. I didn’t realise how valuable you are to me these days until last week. Name your price!’

‘No, it’s not that.’

‘Are you ill?’

‘No, I’m leaving. This is my notice.’ She put the carefully folded piece of paper onto the edge of Judith’s desk, turned and walked back out of the office. As she reached her own desk, the phone rang, and with a ‘smile-when-you-answer-the-phone’ manner she lifted the receiver and said, ‘Dillon Accountancy. How can I help you?’

Judith read and re-read the letter of resignation. Kate was leaving. How could she do this? They were a good team, weren’t they? She wasn’t bossy, let her work hours that suited her, and had just offered her a pay rise. Now Judith would have to find someone else and start again with training and hand-holding. She really enjoyed the freedom that working with Kate afforded her. She waited until she heard Kate finish her conversation, then she went through to reception.

‘You don’t give much of a reason for leaving,’ she said.

‘It’s hard to put into a letter.’

‘Perhaps you could explain then. Don’t you like it here? The hours suit your children and I have just offered you a pay rise. We get on OK.’

‘I know all that, but it’s getting embarrassing.’ Kate tried to look Judith in the eye but failed and stared at the phone on her desk instead.

‘Embarrassing? What do you mean?’

‘I’ve lived here, in Hexham, all my life. I know most of our clients and our suppliers. Everywhere I go people ask me why you haven’t called them back, or why you haven’t paid their bills. It’s not fair that I have to make excuses outside of work as well as inside. It’s part of my job to fend them off between nine-thirty and three-thirty but not at the school gate or in Marks and Spencer, or even in the pub. I’ve got another job. I went for an interview last week when I was off. It’s not a job I want to do but I can’t stay here as it is. Sorry Judith.’

So, that was it. Well, she could sod off then.

‘Go now.’

‘What? There’s stuff to do, to finish off, to tidy up. I can’t go now.’

‘Yes you can. I’ll pay you for the week. Just go!’ And Judith turned and marched back into her office closing the door firmly behind her.

When she went through to make herself a coffee an hour later Kate had gone, leaving everything neat and tidy, and with a few notes designed to help Judith sort out the bits and pieces she had intended to do for her that day. Judith sat down at Kate’s desk.
Oh my God
, she thought,
what have I done
?

Another hour later, Judith was on the phone to a temping agency arranging for someone to come in on Monday morning and to stay until she had recruited Kate’s replacement. She considered contacting the job centre as it was a free advertisement, but decided the local paper was a better option. She had seen the types that the job centre sent. You couldn’t trust them to make the coffee properly let alone speak to clients, or use initiative. She looked up the advert that Kate had replied to and arranged for it to be in the jobs page the following Wednesday. Half of Hexham would already know about the vacancy as Kate knew half of Hexham. That would be a double-edged sword. They would ask her why she had left so suddenly and no doubt Kate would tell them. At that moment, the temping agency called back. They said they would need to be paid before they would send anyone. Clearly someone there knew Kate and had done a bit of homework. Bugger! Bugger this town where everyone knew your business! Bugger, bugger, bugger!

Tuesday 14
th
October 2008

Judith had spent the weekend sorting out everything that Kate would probably have done in a couple of hours and so she was in reasonably good spirits when the phone rang. She had decided to try to manage without a temp for a couple of weeks. Ten o’clock and the only phone call so far was from Tina Walters saying that her mother seemed to have settled in at last and that they needn’t worry about her any more. Judith hadn’t worried at all but Fiona seemed to be on the edge. This time it was Fiona.

‘Judith, I need to ask you a favour.’

‘What is it now? I’m really busy at the moment with Kate having left. I can’t do anything now.’

‘No, not now Ju, later. Will you drive Rosie and her cello to her school concert, and stay and watch and then bring her home again?’

‘Why aren’t you going?’

‘I want to. I might even come with you but the doctor’s given me tablets for my anxiety and I’m not supposed to drive.’

‘You were driving at the weekend.’

‘I know. I don’t take them all the time, but I really need to.’

‘Can’t she get the bus?’

‘Of course not, not with a cello. Please don’t be difficult. Please just say you’ll do it. Please.’

‘Oh God, Fiona, don’t cry again. It’s really irritating. OK I’ll take her. What time?’

Judith continued opening the post. There wasn’t too much but the next letter was from HMRC. It appeared they were not impressed with her appeal against the tax demand and gave her until the end of the month to pay before they prosecuted; and she had already incurred a fine. Bloody marvellous!

Her computer made a beeping noise to alert her to the fact that she had an email. Her new car had been delayed coming from Germany due to industrial action. It would be 31
st
October before it would be available.
One stay of execution, then
, she thought. Nothing to pay there for a couple of weeks. She couldn’t afford the tax bill and the new car. The tax man wouldn’t wait so she would have to buy the car on finance after all. Even finding the deposit would be difficult.

Tina Walters called again from Mill View and Judith’s heart sank. She waited for the next bout of bad news about her mother’s behaviour or wanderings but Tina just wanted to ask her to come out and see Henry Lloyd. She said he was becoming agitated about some money that he owed from some time ago. He would only speak to Judith about it. She agreed to go out to see him that afternoon. At least it would be a bit more income.

‘Hello Henry,’ said Judith and shook him warmly by the hand, ‘shall we sit down in the lounge?’

‘No! Too many people there. Private business, you know.’ Unlike most of the residents at Mill View, Henry Lloyd stood upright and smart. He always reminded Judith of a major in the army with a clipped way of speaking, his head turning from side to side in considered sharp movements. Rosie would have described him as old school.

‘OK, the dining room then. There was no one in there when I walked past.’

He hesitated as if making an important decision. ‘I would prefer a private office.’

‘We’ll ask Tina.’

In the event, Judith was delighted that he had insisted on somewhere private because what he had to tell her was very interesting indeed.

‘Miss Dillon, I owe money.’

‘Yes, Tina told me you thought you did. Do you know who to?’

‘To whom! To whom do I owe money? Is that what you mean? Don’t let your standards slip, young lady! That’s one of the reasons I employ you; you’re not sloppy like some.’

‘I’m so sorry, Henry, Mr. Lloyd. Of course, to whom do you owe money?’

He lowered his voice. ‘Her Majesty’s Revenue and Customs, I believe it’s called nowadays. It’s a crime not paying on time, you’ll know that, and an expensive business if they catch you and investigate. I need to get it paid as soon as possible.’

‘How much do you think you owe?’

‘I know exactly how much,’ he said and drew a cheque from his jacket pocket, ‘
£
28,052.’ He had already made it payable to HMRC and signed it.

‘I’ll take your cheque and study your accounts when I get back to the office,’ she said, ‘just in case there is a mistake. I don’t think you do owe them any money.’

‘No mistake, Miss Dillon. I need your absolute word that you will pay it to them by first class post. In fact, promise me that you will post it this evening.’

‘Very well. I’ll write you a receipt now.’

‘No!’ He looked around warily, ‘No receipt, no record.’ He tapped the side of his nose. ‘Hush hush, mum’s the word and all that. Now off you go; and we never had this discussion.’

He opened the door of the small office and stood back to let Judith go first. She forced herself to go to see her mother who didn’t appear to recognise her. That was OK. It was easier than her demanding to be taken back home. Then she called in to say goodbye to Tina.

‘All sorted with Henry?’

‘Yes, no problem, all sorted.’

‘Will you be sending him an invoice?’

‘No, he can have this one on me. It gave me a chance to have a little word with Mum.’ And Judith practically danced to her car. A cheque made payable to HMRC, signed by someone with loads of money, and all she had to do was put her own tax reference number on the back. What a day this had turned out to be. Judith could not believe her luck.
There is a God in Heaven
, she thought as she looked out of the window at the clouds and offered a silent prayer of thanks. She tried to stay cool and collected. Mr. Lloyd valued professionalism above all things.

Judith’s phone was flashing to indicate a message when she got in. She pressed the button and listened as she hung up her coat. It was Fiona again; really, that woman and her anxiety! It was to confirm that she needed to pick Rosie up at six-thirty and to tell her that the school wanted it to be a smart do, and could Judith make an effort? Judith, as it happened, was just in the mood to make an effort. She quickly showered and changed, then wrote her own tax reference on the back of Henry Lloyd’s cheque and stamped and addressed an envelope. She had promised him that she would post it this evening, after all.

Rosie was ready and waiting when Judith arrived, and looked relieved that her aunt was in good spirits as well as being on time. Rosie was dressed in smart black trousers and a white sparkly top. She said that her mother had taken a tablet and was feeling sleepy so wouldn’t be going with them.

‘We all have to wear black and white,’ she told her aunt on the way there, ‘so we look like a proper orchestra.’

‘What are you playing? Anything I’ll have heard of?’ asked Judith. ‘No, actually, don’t tell me. Let it be a surprise. I like surprises.’

‘Do you? I thought you didn’t.’

‘Well, I don’t usually, you’re right, but I’ve had a good surprise this afternoon so I’m in the mood for them.’ She pulled up next to a post box and hesitated before saying, ‘Be a love and post that for me.’

Quite a few people had already arrived at the school hall and Rosie disappeared off to join the others in the orchestra. Judith took a glass of orange juice offered and picked up a programme. She saw Chloe standing by the entrance looking as though she was waiting for someone.

‘Hello Chloe.’

‘Judith! Lovely to see you. What brings you here? The music? Or do you know someone playing?’

‘My niece is playing the cello. My sister was going to come as well but she’s not feeling well so it’s just me.’

‘Sit with us, please. Don’t be on your own. Louise’s daughter plays the violin so we’ve come to support her. Here she is now.’

Louise came over with orange juice for Chloe and herself.

‘Hello Judith,’ she said. ‘How’s Fiona? I hear she’s taken it badly, your mum going into Mill View.’

Judith was not surprised that people knew her business, but that didn’t mean she was happy with it.

‘Yes, she has taken it badly. She lived with her, you see, and I think all the years of stress have caught up with her. I volunteered to bring Rosie so she can have an early night.’

‘Oh, really?’

Judith looked at Louise, expecting her to say more but somebody rang a bell to signal that it was time for the audience to take their seats so she let it go. She supposed that Chloe would have told her about their conversation. No need for bad feeling tonight. At the interval Louise went to talk to some of the other parents and Chloe apologised to Judith at least three times for the fact that she had sold the picture that she had shown her two weeks ago.

‘Please don’t worry,’ she soothed, ‘it’s my own fault for not getting back to you but with everything going on, I’m afraid it’s been the last thing on my mind.’

‘I quite understand that. You are lucky to be part of a close family, though.’

‘I know. Is business good?’

‘Yes, I think it was the right thing opening here. Some people thought Hexham wouldn’t sustain a shop like mine.’

‘We’re all delighted to have somewhere local to buy quality,’ said Judith. ‘As I said to you before, we have enough junk shops in the town.’ She remembered to laugh as she said it to soften the sentiment. She meant it though.

The second half was shorter than the first, and it flew past. As Judith drove an exuberant Rosie home she reflected that the day had gone rather well.

The conversation in Chloe’s car was somewhat different.

‘Why did you have to invite her to sit with us?’ asked Louise.

‘Why not, she’s nice.’

‘She’s a customer – that’s all.’

‘Meaning I can’t talk to her?’

‘She’s not even a customer, actually. She hasn’t bought anything yet.’

‘Mum, don’t spoil my night,’ said a voice from the back seat. ‘Don’t talk about Rosie’s aunt. Talk about the concert.’

‘What’s wrong with Rosie’s aunt, Tash?’

‘She’s a bit strange. That’s all.’

‘I quite like her; well I don’t dislike her.’

‘Anyway, Mum, did you hear my solo? Chloe, did you? I didn’t mess up one note!’