Читать книгу The Iceman - Jeff Edwards - Страница 12

Matty Sutton

I

lay in the hospital bed with my plastered leg stretched out before me and the sentence of death hanging over my head. The grim reality of my present position hung over me like a thick, black fog.

Despite the assurances of the doctors that they would do all within their power to rid me of the cancer, I knew my days were numbered. I grimly accepted my fate and prayed that I had sufficient time left to do what I needed to do.

It wasn’t as though I felt sick. Except for the discomfort of the itchy skin beneath the cast I felt no different than I had a week ago when I had been busily smashing a tennis ball around the court at the country club.

But now I knew. Deep within me, I knew.

In an effort to allay these unsettling thoughts I threw my mind back to more pleasant times and to the day that Jim and I had met.

In applying for a job as a personal assistant to the head of a building company I had expected to arrive at an office tower of carpeted, air-conditioned luxury, not the muddy yard of utter mayhem that constituted the construction company Jim had started several years before.

The ‘administration’ section consisted of a demountable office thrust up against one wall of the yard and completely surrounded by piles of building materials that seemed to have been dropped off the back of the delivery truck and were destined to lay where they landed until someone found a practical use for them.

I tiptoed my way through the chaos while trying desperately not to ruin the brand new dress I had bought for the occasion, or step in one of the many puddles in my new shoes. A series of wolf whistles and catcalls followed me from the gate to the door of the office and I was still not sure whether I should go through with the interview or run and hope to find more suitable employment elsewhere.

Before I could change my mind the door to the demountable was flung open and a voice roared out, ‘Get back to work, you lazy fucking bastards!’ The voice’s owner towered over me from the demountable’s top step and his face suddenly reddened when he saw me. ‘Sorry, Miss,’ he apologised.

He looked utterly devastated that he had been caught swearing in front of a woman and I was touched that he even cared. I shrugged. ‘I’ve heard worse before and I suppose I’ll hear worse in the future.’

‘Jim Sutton,’ he stammered by way of introduction while taking my hand in a vice-like grip and shaking it till I thought it would come off.

Inside the grimy demountable office I saw that it was in no less a state of confusion than the yard outside. Invoices were scattered over a filthy desk while an architect’s table in the corner was covered in large sheets of paper. More plans were rolled up and stored wherever a spot could be found. A phone rang, but I couldn’t see where it was and Jim Sutton chose to ignore it completely.

‘Aren’t you going to answer that?’ I asked.

‘They’ll ring back if it’s important,’ he replied in an offhanded manner.

I was staggered by his reply and knew straight away that I wanted this job. Here was a company crying out for the guiding hand of a person who abhorred chaos and I was determined to be that person.

He quickly glanced through my references and nodded. ‘The job’s yours if you want it. Can you start right away?’

‘Don’t you want to interview anyone else?’

‘No other applicant has dared to soil her shoes by crossing the yard. All the rest have turned tail at the gate and run for their lives.’

‘I’ll take the job if you agree to clean up the yard so I won’t ruin my shoes.’ I grinned.

‘You can start right now and I’ll think about the yard.’

‘Where’s my desk?’

He pointed to the pile of invoices. ‘Under there.’

Unfortunately, I had failed to reckon on the idiosyncrasies of the male of the species.

Despite the clutter, Jim knew exactly where everything was and he could find whatever he needed at a moment’s notice. It might have been covered in dust from lack of use, but he knew exactly where it lurked. The same went for the muddy yard outside.

However, I soon found out that he was missing out on important contracts because of his easygoing attitude, and I was determined to show him that the business needed to be over-hauled.

I was only able to break through his steely resolve after many arguments and I was only able to get that far due to one important fact that I learned early on. ‘Big Jim’ as he was known to his men, was besotted with me. No matter how hard he fought me on an issue, I could look him in the eye and if I smiled gently I could ensure total surrender on his part. The man who ruled his workers with an iron fist was putty in my hands, and I loved it.

I soon had the office looking spic and span with everything carefully stored away.

Jim couldn’t find anything now and was constantly swearing when a plan or invoice couldn’t be located, but I persisted and as soon as my filing system became clear to him the bad language subsided; however, my plans to reorganise the muddy devastation outside met with stubborn opposition, not only from Jim but from the rest of his workers as well.

Try as I might I could not convince them that a mere woman would know how to make their working lives easier.

My breakthrough in winning the confidence of the men came in a rather unexpected manner.

Their lunch room was located in yet another crusty demountable and was not a place to welcome the presence of a female, unless of course you counted the many oversized and under-dressed female bodies that adorned the lunch room’s walls.

I chose not to invade their territory and ate my meals at the desk where I could continue to answer the phone at the same time, but having run out of tea one day I was given no option other than to enter the men’s domain. Fruity language and raucous laughter was silenced instantly as I stepped across the threshold. Every head turned in my direction as I made my way to the kitchen sink and made myself a mug of steaming tea. I attempted to place the men at their ease by making small talk with those who I had come to know and I was gratified when hushed conversations were restarted.

As I sipped at my mug I noticed a pair of the older men in a far corner of the room. They were hunkered down over a chessboard and giving the game their undivided attention. The game appeared to be well advanced and I wandered over to watch.

Neither of the men bothered to acknowledge my presence and I remained standing for a time, sipping contentedly as several moves were made.

As one of the men was in the process of moving his black pawn I gave an involuntary snort and both men turned on me with looks of annoyance on their craggy faces. ‘What?’ asked the player who was making his move.

‘Sorry!’ I said. ‘That was rude of me. Go on with your game.’

‘You think I did wrong?’ asked the black player with a sneer. ‘You think you could do better?’

I knew instinctively that the other men in the room had overheard and that they might judge me on how I responded. I took a deep breath. ‘He’ll ‘mate you in three moves,’ I replied.

‘Rubbish!’

‘She’s right, you know,’ said his opponent. ‘‘Mate in three.’

The black player turned back to the board and studied the pieces more closely. ‘Damn!’

The white player made his next move and the black reluctantly conceded. He stood up and looked at me. ‘Sit!’ he ordered. ‘Play!’

‘I don’t want to interrupt you. I have to get back to the office.’

‘Sit! The office won’t go away. I want to look over your shoulder this time. Then I can tell you when you’re going to be beaten.’

I knew he was right. I had ruined their game by interrupting and he had every right to be upset with me, so I sat down and began to assemble the pieces. Our dispute was being closely watched by the rest of the men in the room and I found my every move being noted and assessed by a very interested crowd.

From the opening move I realised how important this game could be to me and I gave it my best effort. When I won, I was rewarded with nods of grudging approval from my opponent.

The player looking on now took the place of his friend and it was not until I had ‘mated him as well that he grudgingly congratulated me with a half smile.

Two wins were not enough to make my reputation, but over the following lunch breaks I was able to convince them that my initial success had not been a fluke and my acceptance within the company grew.

‘It’s taken me years to earn these men’s respect,’ Jim offered by way of congratulation. ‘They call me “Big Jim” because they’re hard men and I’ve often had to prove it with my fists and here you are after a few months with your sweet smile and sexy looks having them eating out of your hand.’

‘Then maybe you should smile at them occasionally and congratulate them on a job well done. Using your fists was always the wrong way to go earning their respect,’ I replied with simple logic.

‘That’s the only thing simple men understand. If I wasn’t bigger and harder than all of them then they wouldn’t respect me and I’d never get a full day’s work out of them.’

‘Rubbish!’ I scoffed. ‘You’re talking about fear, not respect, and fear won’t make them work any harder.’

‘And playing chess with them will?’

‘Yes. I’m competing with them on a level field. I might win or I might lose, but whatever happens they know I’ve given my best. That’s where respect comes from.’

Jim was quiet for a short time and I knew he was coming to the real reason for our conversation. ‘I don’t know how to play chess and I’ve always wanted to learn. Can you teach me?’

I didn’t know whether he was jealous of the time I was spending with his men, or if he was genuinely interested in learning the game. ‘You can’t use your fists to win a game of chess,’ I said.

‘Yes. I know.’

‘All right then. What’s in it for me?’ I asked cheekily.

Jim was surprised by my question. ‘I don’t know. What do you want?’

Giving him my sweetest smile, I replied, ‘Let’s get down to the lessons first and I’ll see what sort of student you are. I’ll let you know what it’s going to cost you later.’

When I had left home to come to the city I had taken up residence in a small boarding house catering for single women. The room had been found for me by friends of my mother and she had stipulated that it should be a dwelling where my morals would not be placed in danger.

This house was run by an elderly Catholic woman who had no time for any animal of the male variety. No men were allowed to step inside the front door and this extended right down to her menagerie of pets.

To accompany Jim back to his own home was also out of the question, so we chose to remain behind in the office after the day’s work was finished and the workmen had left.

Over a meal of fish and chips purchased by Jim from the local café, I would clear a space on my desk and we would sit opposite one another to study the board under the glow of my desk lamp.

It was hard work for Tom at first. I kept him busy trying to teach him the moves each piece could make while trying to antici-pate what my overall strategy might be. Devising both a defence to that strategy and an attack for his own pieces often drove him to distraction, but I refused to make it easy for him and he gradually showed signs of improvement. I respected him for sticking to the difficult task despite his many setbacks and he slowly developed a chess mentality.

Finally Jim reached a level of proficiency where I believed that he could be competitive and allowed him to finally take my king.

I can still see the smile on his face as he announced ‘checkmate’ and I tried hard to adopt a defeated expression. He leaned back in his chair with the look of a man who had just completed the marathon and had triumphed. My heart went out to him and I stood up and made my way around the desk before leaning in close and kissing his surprised lips for the first time. ‘To the winner, the spoils,’ I said softly.

It was amazing how much his game improved over the ensuing days and I can still see the look of anticipation when victory now appeared to be within his grasp. I continued to win but did allow him an occasional victory, rewarding him each time with kisses that became more and more ardent.

After one memorable victory our emotions boiled over and we made love for the first time on the office desk with the scattered chess pieces strewn around us and he proposed to me a week later in the afterglow of yet another win.

It was after making love on our honeymoon and our naked bodies were entwined when Jim had asked me if I had been allowing him to win. I had kissed him lightly on the lips before conceding with a smile that I had. ‘But,’ I added, ‘you have come close on many occasions and we have the rest of our lives for you to learn how to do that. I’m going to make sure you do. Chess is a game that can be learned quickly, but it takes many years to become adept at it. I’ve been playing since I was a very small child. You have a lot of catching up to do.’

He looked at me with a serious expression. ‘This has all been a game to you, hasn’t it?’

‘I wanted you from the first day we met, Jim Sutton, just like you wanted me. I was simply adopting a gambit to make sure that we both achieved our desires.’

I sighed as I recalled those bittersweet times from my past but acknowledged that in doing so I had also released other, less welcome memories.

The fog of despair returned and I wondered if I would ever be able to escape the past.

Perhaps death was the answer after all.

A nurse came by to take my blood pressure and asked if there was anything I needed.

I thought for a moment before reaching a decision. ‘I’d like to speak to a minister. Is there one available?’

‘I’ll make a call for you.’

Jim Sutton

O

n the way to the hospital I made a quick detour to a shop that one of our clients had told me about some time before. I found what I was looking for and instructed the staff to giftwrap it for me.

On my arrival at the hospital I had expected to be allowed to go straight into Matty’s room, but a nurse on duty stopped me.

‘She’s speaking to a minister and has asked not to be disturbed by anyone.’

‘A minister?’

‘Yes. She asked for one to call on her earlier today.’

‘She’s all right, isn’t she?’

‘Your wife is fine at the moment.’

‘This isn’t like Matty at all.’

‘It happens sometimes to people who are faced with a serious illness,’ replied the nurse reassuringly.

I impatiently paced the corridor outside her room, anxious to find out what was happening inside.

The sounds of muted conversation came through the open door and I halted at the doorway, but with the curtains drawn around her bed I couldn’t make out what was being said and I continued my pacing. What could she possibly need to discuss with a minister? Matty and I had spent the greater part of our lives together and I thought I knew her, but this turn of events had taken me by surprise.

Finally the minister said his goodbyes and I caught up to him as he walked down the hall. I introduced myself and asked, ‘Is Matty all right?’

‘Your wife is fine,’ he said reassuringly. ‘She wanted to discuss a problem with me. I think we’ve managed to sort it out and she seems much happier now.’

Still confused, I thanked him and made my way back to Matty’s room where I found her propped up in bed and writing what appeared to be a letter.

Seeing me, she quickly flipped the pad over and held out her arms. I hugged and kissed her. ‘The doctor rang me, Matty,’ I said quietly.

‘I told him to. I didn’t want you to have to hear it from me.’ She smiled her wonderful smile at me. ‘Don’t worry. I’ll get over this. It’s only a minor setback.’

I hugged her tighter and prayed that she was right. ‘What did the minister want?’ I asked innocently.

‘He was on his rounds. Bringing a little peace into our drab lives,’ she replied brightly.

That was not what I had been told by the nurse and it hurt me deeply that she was hiding something. I knew that there was little I could do and that now was not the time to press the point. Instead I handed her the brightly papered present that I had brought with me.

‘Christmas already?’ she asked cheekily as she tore at the wrapper. Her laughter was a sliver of sunshine on a cloudy day as she revealed the ornate chess set that lay inside. ‘Thank you, darling. This will certainly help to make the time waiting for my leg to heal to pass more quickly.’

I suddenly realised that was what I did not want to happen. There might not be much time left and it would be a crime for what little time we had to go any faster.