Friends in Low Places

I thank my friends Sue, Angel and PapaGus for their assistance in preparing this short tale for posting.

*****

Boy did I look out of place in that flash establishment! I was very aware that we were rapidly becoming the centre of attention as my little entourage and I weaved our way around and between the rather upmarket clientele seated at their dining tables.

Actually, I almost found myself hurrying, and not because the law might arrive momentarily. I knew that they were going to be distracted. But I really did wish to arrive at the table before they realised that I was even in the restaurant. Luckily for me, a waiter was conveniently delivering another bottle of champagne and had positioned himself to block their view of my approach.

As the waiter left the table, I deftly stepped into the spot he'd vacated and the diners, sensing the change, looked up at me with surprised expressions on their faces. No, not surprise really, more like shock, I'd say.

Actually, Jenny looked maybe more confused than anything else. Whereas her boss, Herbert Henderson's eyes were displaying a little... fear maybe? After all, the husband of the woman he was planning on laying that evening was suddenly towering over him.

Maybe I should explain before I go any further, that my little (well in numbers anyway) entourage was not there to assist me in my labour that evening; they were purely there to ensure that no one would interrupt it. My quarry was in a hotel dinning room and theoretically surrounded by his work colleagues and/or so-called friends. I had no idea whether any of them might be tempted to come to his aid, so I'd not taken any chances.

I reached down and took Henderson's full glass of champagne from the table, and then raised it as if making a toast.

"To an arsehole and the stupid married bitch he was planning on laying this evening!" I said as loud as I could, without shouting.

As it was, shouting wasn't necessary because the arrival in the large room of myself - and as I've already said, my burly entourage - had brought complete silence to the establishment. Not even the tinkling of a spoon in a teacup, or the clatter of a knife or fork against a plate could be heard. And of course, all eyes were in our, or rather my direction.

I didn't drink Henderson's champagne; I slowly poured it over his head.

His reaction was to rise to his feet. One would assume to take a swing at me, but I didn't give him the opportunity.

I'm left handed and, to be honest with you, I don't think Henderson had an inkling that it was coming when my fist slammed into his jaw.

But, by Christ did I know the instant my fist had connected!

Bugger, I think I felt the bones in my hand breaking, but I was sure that the actual crack I heard was Henderson's jaw giving way, as well.

That fact was kindly confirmed for me later by the police officer who eventually charged me. But then life always does have its up and downs, doesn't it?

The expression on my wife's face was one of utter astonishment, but after watching her boss crumple into an unsightly heap, she soon recovered.

"You bastard, you hit him!" Jenny said, jumping to her feet.

"Yeah, I did, didn't I?" I smiled back at her, "What did you think I was going to do, kiss the bugger? No sweetheart, that's your job, remember?"

"But why?" she demanded.

"Because he was planning on bedding my wife this evening, that's why? And I don't take kindly to people turning me into a bloody cuckold! Christ, I hate that bloody word. Let alone the idea that someone might be able to use it do describe me!"

"Are you mad? We just came in to have a meal after the training seminar, that's all! There's nothing going on between Herbert and me. We're having a celebratory meal because the day has gone so well, and then Herbert was going to run me home later!"

"Oh, so you weren't going to sleep with him tonight then?"

"No, I damn well wasn't!"

"And the text message you sent, saying that you were going to be late?"

"God, Pete! The seminar went so well that it over-ran, and then we got caught up in a discussion..."

"...in the bar?" I interjected.

"Yes, in the bar! The manager of our northern office wants me to go up there and organise their seminar for them. Herbert needed to finalise a few things with a couple of our colleagues before he could agree to loan the northern office my services for a couple of weeks; so we continued the discussion in the bar for a little while."

A long while!"

"All right, a long while; but it was just work. Anyway, we were running later than I expected, so I sent you that text so that you wouldn't worry."

All the time we were talking, Henderson was still lying on the floor. He wasn't unconscious; I was sure of that. I do believe that he was playing possum on us. What struck me as very odd, was that no one, none of his friends or work colleagues, seemed to be in any hurry to offer Henderson First Aid even; let alone physical support. Everyone just sat there watching and listening to Jenny and my conversation.

Mind you, one has to remember that I had those friends of mine with me, and they hadn't been chosen because they looked harmless. Maybe folks figured it was more sensible to keep their heads down for the time being.

"So, good old Herbert here was going to drive you home after you and he had had dinner together?"

"Yes!"

"And then what was he going to do, drive back here to sleep?"

"Don't be silly, he was going on home to his wife. Why would Herbert want to drive all the way back down here again?"

"I don't really know sweetheart! But I should imagine that he was his intention; why else would he slip out of the bar and book a room for the night here! While you were in there downing those large vodkas mixed into the those bloody cocktails he's been plying you with, by the way!"

"Are you saying that Herbert has been spiking my drinks this evening?"

"I sure am kiddo, and not just anyone, sweetheart; that bastard lying down there did, who booked a room here earlier!"

"How would you know this?"

"I got friends in low places, Jenny."

"Sorry?"

"The staff here, woman. If you'd bothered to take bloody good look at any of them, you'd have noticed that some of them are members of the rugby club. But then, you've always looked down on that place, haven't you? You'll only come down there with me a couple of times a year, and then only when I insist."

At that instant, the Hotel Manager finally got up the gumption to approach me. Possibly because he thought the incident had gone on long enough, or alternatively, because he had become aware that the police had been called.

"Mr. Greenway, I'm going to have to ask you to leave the hotel now, please?"

"Sure thing, Doug," I replied, "sorry about the disruption, and the mess!"

Then I turned and nodded to the guys, to tell them to start the withdrawal.

Although none of Henderson's friends had waded-in, there had been a distinct possibility that someone might have felt lucky, as I left the establishment. Therefore our coordinated withdrawal had been planned in advance.

I had only gone a couple paces when Jenny called out, "Hold on a minute?"

I turned back, just in time to see my wife plant the pointed toe of her stiletto into Henderson's backside.

"You can take that as my immediate resignation!" she shouted, then hobbled over and grabbed hold of my arm. "Let's get the hell out of here?"

"Are you alright? You're limping." I asked as we approach the door.

"Bloody stilettos! Damned awkward to walk in, and bloody useless when it comes to kicking arseholes; I should have borrowed your boots before I kicked the sod.

"But they make your legs look nice!"

"I should bloody hope so; I would hate to go through the torture of wearing the things for nothing. But what's up with your hand?"

I assume I must have flinched or something as Jenny ran her hand down my arm to take hold of my hand.

"I think I broke something!"

"Poor babe, why didn't you hit him with the champagne bottle; I'm sure that's what I would have done if he did try it on with me later."

"If you'd even known what was going on Jenny! He sneaked you a good few vodkas on the quiet, you know!"

"Bugger. Large vodkas?"

"Yeah, triples as I hear it."

"Shit, another half hour or so, and I'll be right out of it. You know what vodka does to me!"

"Yeah, and by the look of it, so does Henderson."

"Damn, that last Christmas party I should imagine; there was vodka in that bleeding punch they served up there. Hit me like a bloody brick!"

"Don't I know it! We were dancing when you keeled over. I had to carry you out to the car, remember, and make all the bloody excuses to those stuck up pricks you work with."

"The bugger must have worked it out. Did he hire a good room?"

"No, run of the mill, bog standard."

"The tight-fisted bastard!"

"Hey, I thought I was the bastard tonight?"

"Well, you are. But in your case it was an accident of birth that everyone knows about. Henderson has to work hard to achieve the status. I should imagine that's why no one came to his aid this evening. He's not well liked around the office, you know?"

"I've never liked the bugger, you know that. And you also know I didn't think much of the idea of you working for him."

"Well, I don't any more, and I've got a pain in my foot to prove it?" Jenny giggled, the vodka obviously beginning to kick in.

====================================

A police car was in the process of arriving as we exited the building. But the two officers inside it - who were confronted with a crowd of rowdy, apparently drunk, rugby club members and their significant others; my distraction team - didn't find opportunity to get into the hotel and discover what had gone down before I'd loaded Jenny into our car and made a speedy getaway.

I figured I had an hour or so - before the police arrived to arrest me - to get Jenny home and safely tucked up in bed. Hey, I'm a realist; I knew how things were going to pan out. And, in the short time I had to prepare, I had made requisite arrangements.

Jenny was still talking - rubbish - when she keeled over in the car. Only her seat belt held her in the sitting position that might be construed as resembling upright.

It was as I carried Jenny into the house and up to our room that I realised that I'd have to pay a visit to the hospital myself later. The numb ache in my left hand had turned to agony as I lugged Jenny upstairs, laid her on our bed and made her comfortable. From experience I knew that she was going to be out for the count until at least lunchtime the following day and then she was going to wake up with the mother of all hangovers.

You know, in a strange way, I was looking forward to the police arriving and arresting me. Jenny, with a hangover, ain't the best person in the world to be around. I knew that from previous experience; we'd been married seven years by then.

About half an hour later the two police officers knocked on the door and told me that I'd have to accompany them to the police station, to help them with their inquiries into an incident earlier that evening at the Royal Grand Hotel.

I invited them in and lead them up to the bedroom, where I pointed to my comatose wife lying on the bed.

"Sorry, fellas, but I can't leave her alone in that condition; anything might happen. I'll present myself at the station tomorrow morning, when she wakes up. Only I suspect it'll be more like lunch time."

"What happened, did she drink more than she can handle?"

"No, some bugger slipped her a Mickey or two. My wife can handle alcohol well, too well sometimes; but her system just can't take vodka for some reason!"

"Oh, so can we construe from that statement, that somebody dealt out a little retribution this evening?"

"You could say that officer, yeah. But I'm not admitting as to whom yet, because I've never liked the bugger who got clobbered anyway."

"I'm sorry, sir, but we are still going to have to arrest you. A man's jaw has apparently been broken this evening."

"So has my bloody hand, look?"

By that time my hand had swelled up to almost twice its normal size.

"Bugger the nick. We'd better get you to the hospital and get that looked at," one of the officers said.

"I'm sorry fellas, but I can't leave Jenny like this. Well, at least not until the cavalry turns up to look after her. To be honest, I didn't expect you guys to arrive for another hour or so yet. How did you track me down so quickly anyway?"

"The cameras in the high street got the number of your car as you made off. You shouldn't have parked on that bus stop. If you hadn't, they probably wouldn't have taken any notice of you or your car."

I was just saying, "You can't get everything right!" when four of the rugby club boys - along with their respective significant others - came... or rather charged, through the front door.

The ladies rushed up the stairs to see how Jenny was. Three of the guys headed into the lounge popping the rings of their cans of whatever, as they went. The fourth guy - looking remarkably unsteady on his feet - positioned himself at the bottom of the stairs and called up, "Don't say anything, my friend!"

I do believe that he was a little too far gone to make it up those stairs himself.

Relieved of my duties by the 'ladies of the club', I gestured for the two officers to lead the way back down, where we were confronted by my slightly swaying club mate.

I'm afraid that the boys had already got started on the evening, before I'd received an urgent phone call from one of the staff at the hotel and everything had kicked off.

"We'd better get you to the hospital to have that hand looked at," one of the officers suggested.

"Not without me, you're not!" my somewhat inebriated - but still just about in control of his faculties - friend said.

"Who are you?" the officers asked.

"I officer, am Mr Greenway's legal advisor and representative," the unmistakably inebriated man, replied.

"We haven't arrested him yet," the other officer replied. "Besides, you look like you had a few yourself this evening."

"More than a few officer," he replied, adding, "Billy's little lady presented him with twins this afternoon!" by way of explanation. Although I very much doubted that police officers would have any idea of whom Billy was. Unless, they are fans of the local amateur rugby club, that is.

"Besides, all I've got to do is make sure that this silly sod doesn't say anything on record. Too damned honest for his own bloody good, is our Pete here!"

The two officers looked at each other for a few seconds, and then one said. "Look, Peter, if we drop you at the hospital so you can get your hand seen to, will you present yourself at the nick in the morning?"

"I said I would, didn't I, officer?"

"Very well, that's what we'll do. I can't see any sense in trying to question you about what happened tonight. Especially when your brief here is not going to let you say anything because he's..." The officer didn't complete the statement, he just added, "Come on then?" as he lead the way to their patrol car.

====================================

I did get charged. First with Affray, but that got dropped later, to be replaced with Causing Actual Bodily Harm. But eventually, and still at the Magistrate's Court stage, that charge was thrown out as well, because of contradictory statements by witnesses.

While everyone agreed that Henderson did end up with a broken jaw and covered in champagne from a glass that I had been holding moment before, there were conflicting accounts as to how that had come about.

A couple of Henderson's buddies claimed that I had poured the champers over his head and then punched him.

While by far the majority of witnesses, claimed that when I approached the table, Henderson had tried to head butt me in the face as he stood up; spilling the glass of champagne I was holding over him in the process. They also claimed that my punch had looked to them more like an instinctive defensive re-action on my part, rather than a planned physical attack on Henderson.

Oh yeah, and by some handy coincidence all the security cameras in the restaurant area apparently weren't working that evening. Or, the tapes couldn't be located anyway. But I suspect that you won't be surprised to hear that.

Although Jenny had quit her job, we heard that Henderson was let go. Fired to you and me. No company wants to take the risk of a sexual harassment case in this day and age. Her ex-employers were also uncommonly generous to Jenny with her leaving bonus. Yeah, leaving bonus, new one on me as well; but I don't move in those high-flying circles.

Jenny found another job very quickly. Would you believe, at the Royal Grand Hotel?

Jenny had worked with the hotel's management many times in the past, organising seminars for her employer. They had been on the lookout for someone to specialise in coordinating bookings of their function rooms', liaise with the customers about those events and even help the customers plan them. Jenny's experience fitted the job description nicely.

And yeah, all right, she does give the Rugby Club a discount when we hold our big shindigs there. And Jenny is no longer averse to turning up at the club herself now and again; some of the guys actually work for her.

But she still refuses point blank, to watch me on the pitch; because she's always been terrified I'd get hurt.

Life goes on.