The Boy

                     start of **The Boy**

🎢By Tuesday, Neil picked up an edgy atmosphere in the office. His usual morning greeting was met with quieter response and a few coughs during any replies, and within seconds he sensed something was up but carried on with his day, predominantly, like all the others.

From the Wednesday, his usual newspaper purchase from a nearby kiosk was met with an uncharacteristic snide remark from the vendor, that he excused as an off-day, and his morning greeting to his staff was met with less enthusiasm, and more coughing. Interested eyes seemed to follow him around, with swift diversion the second his locked with theirs. Background laughter seemed more incessant and had him jerking his head up time and again. Conversations suddenly stopped when he appeared or passed by, catching up in whisper-form when they thought it earshot safe. Female staff approached him wide-eyes and cautious, male staff a tad more bold - one even chewing the inside of his cheek with a hint of asininity. He tried to pass it off as mild paranoia, but knew the change in atmosphere was ascribable to him.

 And from the Thursday, Jacqueline started to approach him with eerie ambiance, reluctant to look him in the eye, giving mostly one word answers when he was making rationed attempts at nicety.  And when she snickered at something behind her hand at her computer during tea-break with him, his stomach flipped, convinced the scornful laugh was anent to him. Demanding to know what the joke was, on turning her monitor, a picture of her friend's husband in a drunken sleep on his sofa, face covered in make-up from his kids, looked back at him.  He promptly rose from the greenhouse without announcement and left the office, Jaqueline's pleas for him to stop ignored. Something was being spread among the workforce and HE was the subject of it. That he was sure of.

   Someone, somehow, must know - or at least have eaten enough probability fodder to feel emboldened enough to voice presumptions. What was circulating he was unsure of, but it was no doubt flying through the corridors, lingering on lips, possessing every ear. Only certain kinds of calumny met such reactions; this must be heavyweight smear. The door to what he thought might be misplaced paranoia at the start of the week, was now firmly closed.  

   The stories, in whatever form or shape contained in these walls, had no means of escape now, whereas he had. Unconcerned by time, he walked straight to his car.  He would be going home with suspicion wheeling round in his mind. The who's. the why's, the what-the-fuck-is-being said's. His decision was to meet them tomorrow with silence. He was still the boss after all. But everyone now, was under his scrutiny - including Jaqueline. In need of a saving grace, he thirsted for a call from Saskia.

Friday saw a whole different person. No 'good mornings' to anyone as he desk-dodged his way to the greenhouse, drawing all the blinds right away. The immediate tension in the office so thick Jacqueline could taste it at the back of her tongue. She got a disgruntled 'yup' in return for her morning greeting. 

    As he settled in in seconds, with no request for coffee, she was rather shocked at his appearance: his clothes rather crumpled, tie askew, collar open. His face had a grey, tired pallor to it, hair waves even more unruly, and the stubble on his face shadowed gaunt cheeks. All morning he worked with a dogged bitterness and a mind afire with vile imaginings, refusing to rest or succumb to work. It disturbed Jacqueline to see him there, slumped at his desk looking like an unmitigated disaster with hunched shoulder, concentration all to pot. She was trying to muster up the courage to suggest he go home, but was chary of his reaction.  If only she had.  

     Taking an early lunch-break, devoid of hunger, but seeking air, Neil checked his phone. Nothing from Saskia. It was beginning to make him feel antsy about her cutting short their phone calls, now conversing mostly by waited-upon texts.

     Making his way back to the office, his exit from the lift faced him directly with two tie-jobs from another level of the skyscraper heading in, and as the doors were closing he clearly made out: 'That was the dirty old git, that architect bloke.'  

    Their words rooted him, as he stood facing the buttons, finger poised at his floor number. It took him a good few seconds and a prompt from the elevator system to close the doors. Now he knew. This dirty old git had just been delivered the coup de grace in his dinner hour, feeding bloodsucking leeches who gained their midday nourishment through other peoples lives. He needed to know exactly what was being said now it was apparent the rumour was not just office-bound but disseminated through the entire building. The horrible, fundamental trouble was, they were right.

   

Marching indignantly back to his office, throwing a tirade of frustrations under his breath as he went, the second he was through the door he commanded the room to empty, his veneer of respectability slipping like a sheet of melting ice.

     'Everyone...  out!' he told them, loudly. The stern directive seemed to render them dumb, turned them to stone. He'd been on route to blowing steam little by little, day by day. 'OUT!' he bellowed, 'NOW! The fucking lot of you... '   

     In sudden, obedient motions, they grabbed their kit and their coats and faltered out the door, muttering bewilderingly.

     Jacqueline came from the greenhouse. 'What's going on, sir?'

     Neil looked up the corridor until the last worker was out of sight. Swinging shut the door, he turned and walked over to Jacqueline, leading her by the elbow back into the greenhouse. An ugly red flush crept up her neck. The dread of this moment had subsequently come.

     'Tell me what's being said, Jacqueline! What the fuck's going on?' he demanded tempestuously.  

     She just stared at him, feeling the heat start to spread to her cheeks.

     'Come on - you must know!'

     'I... just...I don't... ' She inhaled a huge gulp of air, trying desperately to hold off an answer. 

     'Don't try to say you don't know, I know you do. So come on - what have you heard?' 

     She shook her head as she looked at him, reluctant to repeat the rumour-nastiness. 'Please don't make me do this.' She felt tears looming, utterly conscience-stricken.   

     Neil run a hand through his hair, slinging his jacket tails back to rest hands on hips. 'I'll say it for you, then, shall I, that I'm sleeping with my daughter?' 

     Jacqueline dropped her head, raising a hand to her mouth, she closed her eyes and nodded in assent, although that wasn't quite as delicate as some were putting it.  It felt as stunned a silence as she'd ever felt, the words almost benumbing having come from him himself. It took her a good few moments to meet his eye again. He was in no hurry to veil anything with denial. By the reactions and instances of this past week, others had made their own minds up about them. All of a sudden he had to take a seat, feeling as if his body was falling down a whirlpool. 

     'You don't look good, Mr. Balfour. Why don't you take the rest of the day off? I'll stay on and keep things ticking over.'  Her desperate try at halting this conversation and getting the hell out of here fell wayward. Neil ignored her offer, so she was stuck in a mess; needing to flee as it was excruciatingly painful, and needing to stay through loyalty, care and respect - regardless of the exceptional issues. 

     'Any idea where this all came from,' Neil asked sounding a bit more subdued, and Jacqueline knew now that she had no option but to stay put. She was still at work, after all. 'as we've had the police involved due to this.' 

     'Yes, I'm sorry.' she said, and instantly regretted it. By the way she said it, he now knew that even that had reached the ears of the office walls.  'And just for the record, I know it's all—'

     'What, bullshit?' Neil answered for her. 'Then why didn't you have give me a heads-up, or prior warning.'

     Jaqueline went and sat down at her own desk, and gave a loud sigh, knowing she'd still have to be careful with what was said. Her job could ultimately be on the line here; he'd been a murderous boss to work for during the time of his divorce.  'I just couldn't find the words... you know.' 

     'I've just had two lads from Brian's floor call me a dirty old git, seems some don't find it a problem.'

     'I'm sorry, sir.'

     'Aye, well,' he sighed, 'whether things are true or not, office stigma lasts.'

     'Where there's post-it notes, there's gossip.' She gave a nervous grin, trying a mild stint at humour, but still betwixt at how to play things out.

     'There's a difference between gossip and scandalous gossip though, a big difference.' He sat quiet for a few moments, staring at a misshapen swirl on the pattern grain of his desk. 'By the way - how long ago was it that you first heard anything untoward?'

     'I'm not sure... ah, two weeks, a bit longer maybe.'

     'Two weeks?' Neil frowned, giving this some consideration. 'So if malicious talk reached here before the police visit, then it's been somebody here that's put the report in. It's got to have been' he concluded, clicking on to the fact that the atrocity had made it to other floors.

    'Jacqueline - and please be honest with this - was Brian about when all this smear circulated?' 

    'Brian? Haven't spoken to him at all.' 

    'But he's been taking his lunch in the café?' 

    'Yes, but as I say, I haven't spoken to him... ' Knowing where this was heading she suddenly stood, heading over to the coffee machine; his train of thought was starting to take pace again, just when she thought he was calming down.  'Shall I make you one, too?'  

     He nodded and said the words no conversation-evasive-cup-of-coffee-trip was going to block. 'I need him down here. Can you send for him, please.' If this crazy dilemma had been about that long, why hadn't Brian warned him, put him in the picture? 

The second Brian arrived from the upper floor to the greenhouse, Neil asked Jacqueline to go log off all the quickly abandoned computers around the office, and she gave an oh, fuck grimace as she passed him on her exit. Neil quietly shut the door.  

     As with Jacqueline, Brian noticed his friend's pallidity and scragginess straight off, a tell-tale sign that something was up. He decided to let Neil speak first, to test if the waters required a toe-dip, paddle or wade. It didn't take long to find himself being chucked straight in at the deep end. 

     Handing over a pre-prepared coffee, he said, 'What's the worst you've heard, Brian?'

     Brian flicked on a brace yourself grin, with a tilt of the head, eyes wide. 'Bad enough.' 

     'Got wind of any... where, why's or who's?'

     Brian, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, as if shoving reluctant words back in. 'What does it matter, mate, the shit-stirrers are having a field day anyway.'  

     Neil sank back into the chair at his desk, rubbing his eye sockets with the heel of his hands. If his head was about to be mashed up even more, he'd be as well sitting down for it.  Keeping quiet for a short spell, he sussed that Brian was reticent on giving any information out, knowing he knew far more than  willing to spill and it irked him.  'I'd have appreciated an earlier heads up.'

     'I know. Maybe I should have, but I was hoping the ignorant quips would pass before reaching you.'

     'Shame they managed to reach me at all, can't believe it's got this out of hand. What kind of things were they saying?'

     His best friend drew his look away, scratched the back of his neck. How could he repeat such filth, such imaginings - especially knowing that outsiders' guesswork in parts may very well be true. The snaps of Neil cracking his knuckles brought his gaze upon his friend. 'Brian?'

     Brian took his six-foot four bulk of a body and perched himself on the end of Jacqueline's desk. His mind was becoming like a spinning top as he mulled over this sorry situation, but knew that he couldn't always elect silence to consume his answers. So what the fuck can he say?

     'Does it really matter.?'

     Neil gave a sardonic snigger.  'No, I don't suppose it does, the damage has been done and only likely to get worse - God knows what will be said next... it's finding out who screwed me over that matters more now.'  For this was a double whammy; not only had someone who works for him the nerve to involve police in an incest probe, his oldest friend was holding out on him too - and that hurt. Now his mind went driving down all roads. If he needed to know who the bitch was, he'd need to find a way to prise it out of him.

    'Were you involved, Brian?'  

    'What!?'

    'You were the only other living soul who knew about us.'

    'And you think I would do that, do you?'  His voice was starting to rise with the suggestion of such.

    'Who did you let know?'

    'You're being ridiculous.'

    'Must have been someone here, it's the only possible way.'

    'Look, I've carried this about with me this long - don't you think if I was going to play Judas, I'd have done it well before now?'

    'Maybe it was Eunice, then?' 

    Brian took on a defensive stance, straight back up on his feet, angry at such words. He felt bad enough that he was being attacked, and blame him if he must, but no way was he getting away with suggesting his wife was a snoop. 'That's enough, Neil!' he said loudly, and made for the door.

    Jacqueline heard the scrape of the chair, as Neil shot from his desk to block Brian from leaving the greenhouse, grabbing him back before his hand gripped the handle.  'I know it was a woman - why not her?'

    Brian was trying trying to remain calm, but was losing his patience. 'Just let me the fuck out of here. I'm not having you badmouth my wife.' 

    'Who are you protecting, Brian?I bet she's good friends with Eunice, then..'

    'They've never even met each other!' 

    Instantly, Neil's tense body relaxed. He licked his bottom lip, and stood nodding lightly. 'You know who she is then.'  Fuck, that was clever. Brian had just been buried up to his neck in outfoxed shit. He quickly drew his gaze away, searching the ceiling for a decent riposte, but instead went on a rant to compensate for his stupidity. Breaking point had been reached and he didn't care if Jaqueline heard or not.  

     'Know? What I really know is that you gave me too much to keep secret to start with. I've been carrying it with me this long and it was a sodding relief when the rumours hit. I tried my best to understand, gave it the rationale that others wouldn't and all the while hoping you would come to your senses. Why do you think I've been avoiding you as much as possible - fucking dreading this day!'

     Neil stood motionless, while Brian questioned inwardly if the high from his daughter's warped love was really worth this kind of low.  Maybe revealing how the the real culprit knew would help answer that.

     'It was Valerie, Neil, she told me. Apparently she walked in on you in bed together and made a quick exit when she saw you were both asleep.' 

     'Valerie?' he repeated, stunned, then released a trapped breath.  He took short steps forward and back, then suddenly stopped while letting his thoughts catch up. 'Of course - the night we were supposed to go out she was due to clean the apartment, but we fell asleep drunk instead.

     'And she's let herself in as usual...' Brian said, in a tone that mimicked idiocy.

     'Aye... she texted me saying she was unable to work that night, but—'

     'She'd already been in your apartment... ' 

     A surge of indignation at having been duped washed over Neil (like he'd just done to Brian) and he ran an agitated hand through his hair. 'That's why she changed jobs weeks ago... ' he said with sudden realism. 'What did she tell you?'

     'Oh, have I really got to?' Brian protested, stuffing his hands into his pockets, shaking his head at his shoes. 'Look, it was harrowing enough for her just glimpsing a naked man in bed with his naked daughter, and the source of all the disgusting guff started on the back of that alone. But I stood there listening to her already knowing what I know - I'm breaking her trust by even talking to you now.' 

    'Hmm,' Neil said. 'Nice to know that we're all capable of backstabbing.' 

    'What are you getting at, Neil, you still don't think I had something to do with it?'

    'To be honest, I don't know what to think anymore... ' Before Brian had a chance to protest, he quickly raved on. 'So why didn't she go to the police before now, I mean this happened ages ago.'

    'I'm surprised she even went at all, you know she's hardly the type to say boo to a goose, but it wasn't all down to her.'

    'Apart from confiding in you, who else did she fucking tell?'

    Now Brian wasn't giving a toss who told whom what, he wanted to unburden himself and gave a loud sigh. 'She got drunk on Bacardi one night, got loose-tongued and out it came, and it was her niece that incited getting the police involved. It was after that she got scared and confided in me.'

    'Her niece... ' Neil frowned, his methods of deduction were really picking up pace now,  '...which one? Was she called something like... Cadyanne or similar?'

    'Why do you know her?'     

    'I'm sure that's the one I pulled up for pocketing jewelry that Magrette left behind.'

    'When, and how?' Now Brian was getting lost.

    'A couple of years ago. I was asked if there was any extra cleaning hours going, so I let her tag along with Valerie, cash in hand, to help them out... until the niece started helping herself. Challenged them once when I came back early, where Valerie found a ruby bracelet in her pocket. Caused a big ruckus between them, but the bitch gave me some some look and foreign mouthful before storming off.... and this is some huge payback then, isn't it, for shaming her in front of her aunt.'

    'And Valerie's got family working in the café here, so... ' Brian capped the whole sorry saga off for him. Hopefully now he gets it.

   Neil looked at his friend with a strangled expression, turmoil churning away. 'It could all have been kept in the dark if Valerie hadn't had that bloody drink...!'

   Brian's patience was being riled even more, why couldn't the man see or feel the egregious damage done here. 'But she carried that vision of you both every day, faced you, had to find work elsewhere because she felt shame and guilt, yet she had done nothing wrong.'

  ' Oh, aye... I'm standing here because—'

  'For fuck's sake, Neil! 'Brian had had his fill. 'You're standing there still trying to blame someone else for this when you're the one who's brought life-changing stupidity upon himself - I tried to warn you.... I've covered your back your countless times, but I'm having to turn my back this time. You are the sum of your own actions.' 

   'Och, spare me the pulpit shit!'

   Brian stood silent, no angry counterblast, just biting down on his bottom lip, Neil unconscionably regretting the slur, but too proud at that moment to apologise.

   'Mock all you like, but neither God nor money will be of much use against an incest charge. Now, if you don't mind, I'll get back to work - assuming I still have a job!' This time he wasn't stopped as he leaned for the door handle, turning before opening it. 'You know what? I'm beginning to think Valerie was right to have dobbed you in... '  The blinds on the door swished to and fro behind him as he marched away. It was a comment he felt bad about, but felt fitting at the time.

Neil walked solemnly out into the office. Quarter past two on a Friday afternoon and the place was eerily quiet. Jacqueline had vamoosed and he couldn't blame her for not sticking around. How much she heard he could only guess.

   Not that it mattered. Both Jacqueline and Brians' reluctance in letting him know the details of any aspersions spoke for themselves. Whatever version was rolling around was never going to be said to his face; no-one would be stupid enough to risk their job. Maybe the unscheduled clearance of the office today would suppress and stamp out any future fatuity. Nevertheless, all it took was a minute or two standing in office desolation to know he'd been taking it out on the wrong people. 

    In his affluent world, and out of all his friends, colleagues, exes or enemies, it was a lowly fucking cleaner that had ripped his world apart. What he thought had once been a close shave had in fact been a nasty nick no plaster could ever truly heal. And Brian's advice to end the madness may well have proved fruitless even if he had taken it. State of affairs were by then, an already-wrapped fait accompli.

                                            *                               *                             *

How in God's name was he going to let Saskia know? If only he hadn't let her persuade him to stay in that fateful, drunken day. Perhaps he should just keep this to himself - there would be no need in upsetting her too. At least this busy, quality time with her mother was an escape from this unfolding nightmare. He was missing her and yearned for that pale, yielding body next to his right now. But he'd only heard her voice asking to leave a message every time he called. Could things get any worse?

                 end of  ***THE  BOY***