‘Yeah, but if Nathan’s goin’ t’get a load more people in, it’ll be more work for us, won’t it? It’s alright for ‘im but he don’t have to sort them all out, does he?’

‘He’s not talking ‘loads’ of anything,’ Ingrid responds to Charlene’s sulky complaints with patience on the verge of developing into something more bad-tempered. ‘He was thinking aloud, that’s all; wondering if he should set a couple more on or not. It’s a fine balance,’ she says, going into the kitchen area to fill a small jug with water and coming back again. ‘It’s no good him setting blokes on if he’s got to lay them off later because there’s not enough work to go round.’ She feels the compost in one of the plant pots on the shelf behind her desk before tipping some of the water around the plant and moving on to the next. ‘You can’t get subbies in like you used to be able to and if they’re any good, he wouldn’t want to let them go anyway; he’d want to keep them on our payroll, not lose them to somebody else.’

‘Yeah, but my Mum said...’

‘Charlene...’ Ingrid turns sharply and as a result manages to drip water on the back of her chair. ‘What does your Mum, lovely lady that she might be, know about this sort of work?’ Irritably, she puts down the jug and pulls tissues from the box on her desk to blot the fabric.

Charlene folds her arms, hostile and ready to argue. ‘She still says it int fair if I got a load more stuff to do and he int putting me wages up.’

‘I hope you’re joking.’

‘No.’ Her mouth twists determinedly.

‘Then you damned well should be. You get paid well over the odds now. He does bloody well by you and don’t you forget it.’

‘There int no need t’go on.’

‘I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, you go find yourself another job and see what wages you get offered then.’

‘I got me qualifications.’ Charlene delivers her coup de main.

‘Yes, and who paid for you to get them?’ Ingrid parries. ‘And how often do you get a bit extra on top if he thinks you’ve put yourself out for him?’

‘Yeah...an’ then I have t’pay more tax!’ The folded arms fold tighter and her head tosses indignantly. ‘It int like he gives me fifty quid in me hand or summat.’

Ingrid sighs as she finishes watering her plants and tucks the empty jug behind the largest of them. ‘That’s because he has to do it like that. It’s the law, tax regulations,’ she says in a flat and weary monotone.

‘It still int fair.’

‘What’s not fair is you going on as though you’re hard done by. You’d have to go a long way to find another boss like him so leave off and get on with this mountain of work you say you’ve got.’ Sitting at her desk again, Ingrid shuffles paper looking for her pen and once found snaps it on and off repeatedly as she reads through her shorthand notes before starting to type.

‘My friend does office work.’ The silence having stretched between them, Charlene’s tone is more conciliatory.

‘And?’ Ingrid lifts her head to stare. ‘I suppose you’re going to tell me she’s on fifty grand a year are you?’

‘No...I were goin’ t’say she were looking for a job.’

‘She can have yours if you’re so dissatisfied.’

‘I thought we might need somebody what with him getting this big contract he keeps going on about.’

‘Right,’ Ingrid’s annoyance still bubbles beneath the surface. ‘We’ll stick another desk on the roof, shall we?’

‘He could make us a bigger office...or you could have his. It int like he’s in it much no more.’ Charlene retorts, trying to gain some ground.

‘So where does Dave go when Nathan’s not here? Besides, it’s not like Nathan’s going to be busy forever. He’s got a lot on with Steph at the moment that’s all, and you know that as well as I do. Dave’s going to be in here pretty much permanently until things get back to normal.’

‘Nobody told me.’

‘I’m telling you, alright?’

‘But he never said nothing.’

‘That’s because he only talked it over with me last night. He was waiting to catch Dave, see if he was okay with taking it on before he mentioned it to anyone else.’

‘He always takes over when Nathan’s on holiday or summat.’

‘Being in charge for the odd couple of weeks isn’t the same as having the responsibility all the time, which is what it’d amount to. He’s a mechanic, a bloody good one, but he’s not a big people person. He might prefer to stay as he is even though he knows this job inside out. It takes balls to negotiate contracts and deal with shitty clients. Money isn‘t the be all and end all of everything, you know.’

Charlene’s eyes spark in triumph . ‘So he’d get a rise for doing more work.’

‘Different work,’ Ingrid emphasises with a scowl. ‘Not more.’

Samms Plant Hire, Oatfield

Chapter Forty-eight

The Village Green

Jessie sinks thankfully onto the seat and puts her shopping bags at her feet. ‘It’s all going to be done properly,’ she continues with their conversation, lifting her hand to shield her eyes from the sun and looking across the green to watch a string of ponies making the turn by The White Horse and being led into Dickin Road. ‘The police are going to release his remains to the undertakers...’

‘And there was me thinkin’ a panda car’d turn up at the church with a cardboard box.’ Edna cackles as she flops down beside her.

‘That’s not very respectful, Edna.’

‘It weren’t, were it,’ By way of apology. Edna pats her on the thigh. ‘Go on.’

‘It’ll only be a small service...a proper one though. I mean there won’t be a lot of people there. Then we’ll have a little drink to his memory afterwards.’ Jessie bends forward to forage in one of her bags and comes out with two clementines. She hands one to Edna.

‘Ooh, just what I could do with. I couldn’t spit a sixpence.’

‘I’m gasping as well but I thought it’d be a shame to sit in the cafe waiting for Kath when we can be out here. It’ll probably rain tomorrow.’

‘Knowin’ our bloomin’ luck wi’ the weather...’ Edna agrees, pushing her thumb into the centre of the clementine and pulling back the peel. ‘But I ain’t so sure you’re right about there not being many folk at the funeral. There were a big spread in the paper when that skellington were first found, lot a folk was interested and bet your life they’ll want t’do a write up now they know who ‘e was.’

‘How would they know?’ Jessie pops a segment into her mouth, chewing once and pushing it into her cheek while she talks. ‘I didn’t tell them I thought it was our Clifford, they don’t know anything about me or our family. Nobody asked us any questions then and they won’t ask any questions now.’

‘Pound to a penny they’ve been onto the police about it. You mark my words, they’d’ve found out from somebody. Bet they was ringing ‘em every bloomin’ week t’find out.’

‘No they wouldn’t.  They ran it in the paper for a couple of weeks and then when there wasn’t anything else to say, they’d got nothing else to put. All the police would’ve done was to tell them it was one of those.....like on telly...cold corpse things, where nobody could find out what happened because it was so long ago. And that was that, they wouldn’t care anymore.’

‘You can’t tell me some begger won’t tell ‘em.’ They both look up as a car horn sounds and Edna’s pucker of conviction is exchanged for a smile and a wave as Kath drives past.

‘But there’s only a few people knew.’ Jessie wraps the remains of her clementine in the handkerchief she has draped over her lap and puts it back into her bag.

‘It on’y wants them few t’tell a few more and afore yer know it...’ Cheeks bulging, Edna stands up and drops the peel in the bin beside the seat then brushes her hands together.

‘They’ll get to find out.’ Jessie says miserably.

‘I ain’t sayin’ they will but yer got t’be ready in case they does. Tha’s all I‘m sayin’’

‘We wanted it kept...private. Now everybody’s going to find out Audrey had a baby and wasn’t married.’

‘Don’t see why they should. Just keep yer mouth shut if anybody does come askin’. ’E were your brother, tha’s all they need t’know and they won’t think any diff’rent neither.’

Weighed down by more than her shopping bags, Jessie asks ‘You’re sure?’

‘Yer can’t be sure a nothin’ in this life,’ Edna pronounces as they reach the kerb. ‘But there ain’t no reason fer ‘em t’think otherwise.’