Abby Ch. 06

She was amused at the ceremony which accompanied the departure of all trains, the manner in which the station staff would stand and indicate by the raising of the arm that their section of the platform was clear and safe, how the stationmaster or leading porter would, when all these indications were correct, turn, raise his arm, and blow a whistle to the guard, who self importantly blew his whistle, and raised his green flag for the train to depart. He didn't wave the flag, he displayed it, holding it open so that there could be no misunderstanding. Finally the driver would give a short whistle, which Abby learned was known as a 'pop' confirming what Sam had said; and no locomotive would ever move without this warning, and then open the regulator starting the train on its journey.

The lore and traditions of the Great Western amused and enthralled her, so much so that she had to remind herself from time to time of the main reason for buying these books, grandfather's branch. She didn't realise it at the time but she now thought of her grandfather in a more possessive way, and the line up the Lyney valley as his branch. It was in this area that Abby was disappointed. The branch from Taunton to Barnstaple attracted a lot of mention, from its inception by the Bristol and Exeter, when it was known as the Devon and Somerset Railway. Capital problems beset the enterprise from the start, entailing the interruption of construction work at least once. The line up the Lyney valley received little notice, except for an odd sentence in two of the books, which mentioned the quarries as the reason for its building. Abby was gratified to find that her thoughts on the matter were borne out, Paverton was served as a by-product of the intended quarry business, as it required little extra capital expense to extend the line there.

There was no other history mentioned, and Abby could only assume that the branch, which in effect was a branch off a branch, lived and died according to the fortune of the main branch. Disappointing though this was Abby was thoroughly absorbed by the books, as they gave her a tremendous insight into the world that her grandfather knew. The ethic of service that was the Great Western ran through from the lowliest ganger, to the superintendent of the Line, and obviously infected her grandfather. If he was made the same as others mentioned in these books, then this service was his dues to the society in which he lived, notwithstanding that same society could treat him with uncaring disdain.

The parallels of their lives was ironic, all the hard work over the years, which counted for nought as expediency took priority. True she was financially secure, which her grandfather could never have been, but she was surplus to requirements, as he had been, she had been treated uncaringly, as he had been and she was without family, as he had been. Tears of self-pity welled in her eyes, as for the second time she mourned for a family she had never had.

On Sunday the half expected call from Steve came. "Abby, what is this rubbish you left on my desk. I cannot believe that you did this. Who are you going to? What have they offered you? Come and see me tomorrow, I'm sure we can negotiate a new package for you."

Steve's agitation was obvious in his voice, and it was some time before Abby could reply to the barrage of questions aimed at her. "Steve, I am not, repeat not, going to another Bank. I am taking a sabbatical if you like to assess my life and where I want to go. You know as well as I, that I have no future at the Bank, except to do what I am doing now. And that is because I wear a skirt. In twelve months time Andy will be back from New York, and will to all intents and purposes be my superior, with a better package, even though he's not half as good at the job as I am. But then he's a bloke, and I'm not. That's the way it works, Steve, and it doesn't matter how much you deny it, I know the writing is on the wall. At this moment I am undecided about taking action against the Bank for constructive dismissal. I am sure that there are lawyers out there who would love to take the case; and would love even more the fees they will get out of it." There was a silence at the other end of the phone. Too many of these actions had succeeded, and the Banks were very nervous. Abby had spoken without thinking, but her tack was right, and gave her some pleasure, handled carefully this was a chance to pay Steve back for his treatment of her.

Eventually Steve spoke again carefully, as he was also aware that his treatment of the female staff could be part of any action. "Abby, you know that we appreciate your work immensely, there was no suggestion that you were going to be passed over, we just wanted Andy to gain more experience."

Abby interrupted him. "So why did you not ask me if I would like to go to New York?"

There was another silence, broken by Steve, who changed direction. "Look, Abby, if you are determined to do this, I will accept your resignation, but let's not have any more talk about lawyers and actions. Tell you what, if you would put in writing that you will not be joining a competitor, either now, or in the future, then I am sure that I can talk the Directors into a little severance payment for you, how's that sound?"

"Well," she said, drawing it out as if she was making a difficult decision, "I could go along with that, but what sort of extra Bonus would we be looking at? Restricting my options for the future is a little unethical to say the least, there would have to be compensation for my agreeing to that."

Steve was happier now, back on ground with which he felt comfortable. "I would think they would be happy with fifty K." Abby laughed derisively. She had to haggle; otherwise Steve would not be able to tell his co-Directors how he had whittled down her extortionate demands. But fifty K was ridiculous.

"I bet they would be happy, Steve, you know damn well that a court would take my past earnings into account, which includes this year, and my future potential, and your wish to handcuff me, and other things which I am sure you would not want mentioned in court. An action could cost the Bank five to six hundred K. Plus the costs, which would be astronomical. In addition you are asking me to sign a voluntary restriction of trade. This signature has to be worth a lot more than that. I'll tell you what, I'll save you the costs; just pay me the million, and that will be that." For the next three quarters of an hour the negotiations continued, until at last they agreed a figure just over seven hundred thousand.

Having agreed Abby was content to write the letter he wanted. "Steve, you will get your letter. However you have to put our agreement in writing first, you can make it conditional if you wish, but I want that offer in writing before I sign away my rights."

He grumbled about this, saying didn't she trust him, but agreed. "Oh, and Abby, I don't think it would be a good idea for you to come into the office again, I wouldn't like others to get to know the details of our agreement." That suited Abby well; the thought of working three months notice with Steve being snide at every opportunity did not enthral her one little bit. She put the phone down, and found she was shaking. She hadn't really expected a pay-off, but with the first inkling that one could be available; her playing of the hand sounded a lot cooler than she felt. Now she had burned her boats. Suddenly she punched the air and yelled 'yippee'.

She spent the rest of the day absorbing the financial pages of the Sunday papers, and collating their information with her own. Working in the City gave access to all kinds of rumours and tips. Acting on those tips could be construed as insider trading, a notoriously difficult charge to prove. Now however, as she was no longer inside, so to speak, Abby felt quite happy to plan her investments, which took into account some of the information she had gleaned. With something like two million pounds to use, she put together a well-balanced portfolio balancing secure Gilts, with long-term growth, and reliable income stocks with some wild card risks. Tomorrow she would see a friend, Peter Adams, a Stock Broker whom she knew she could trust, who would make all the arrangements for her.

To be continued