Another Julia and Alan story, about 7 or 8 months after 'Reflections'. Communication is an art. One that we fail in so often.
Alan has the habit of going off half cocked, he proved that in 'Trust' and he knows he does, so possibly he overcompensated in 'Reflections'. Let's see what he cocks up this time.
I wasn't sure where to put this story. It is tenuously LW and as J&A's previous adventures were LW, I have put it there. They have both learned their lessons.
I have other adventures planned for them but not in LW. Let's see what next week brings.
Please remember this is fiction just like Romeo and Juliet.
I was looking down at my plate with the remains of dinner which had been a half pound Aberdeen Angus fillet steak. There were a few large hand cut chips, an onion ring and the odd cherry tomato leftover. I wanted to save some room for the Black Forest gateau that I had seen on the dessert menu. Plus, the odd pint of McEwan's 80/-. There was, of course, the bottle of Malbec that I had to finish off before I started on the beer.
I was in Glasgow to learn about the new laser milling machine that the company I work for, Barstow Engineering, had just purchased. How to operate it, service it and fix minor faults, for big faults the company would send someone down. I was there for two weeks because I also had to learn the prep for the workspace where it was going and help with the installation. In actual fact after several discussions with Mr Barstow and Mr Barstow junior, Philip, I still didn't know where we were going to put it in the factory. It was quite a large machine with specific power needs. I had a slot sorted but Mr Barstow for some reason wasn't keen. He was the boss. I think he had concerns about our factory's location. There have been a few closures and factory moves around us recently. Probably had something to do with the local road system, it was designed pre-war and maybe even pre first World War and wasn't suitable for large lorries.
The two design guys had come up with me to work out what it could do and how to use their ones and noughts to programme it. And that gave me a sort of an idea, that things that I was not aware of were going on. I would have to think about it some more.
I sat there and thought about what had been happening for the last couple of months, things had been a bit fraught at home. Over this time, there were secrets at work. And that bothered me, when I asked Julia, she'd slap me playfully on the arm and say. "You know, and you also know we can't talk about it outside the boardroom in case it gets out. Mum's the word." And she would tap the side of her nose and smile at me. One day I asked her outright what these meetings were about. "You know, it was your bloody idea. Anyway, Phillip is supposed to be keeping you updated. You really should come to the meetings."
That would probably explain all the questions and the chats Phillip and I had been having for the last few months. I thought he was interested in what we did, and he was learning stuff from me, that's good
I had been invited to several of the board room meetings but on the two occasions I managed to get there I was called away to sort out some machinery before they really got started. That was my job, head of maintenance for Barstow's Engineering, we did small proof of concept production runs. To get the programming right then passed the finished details to the customer who contracted companies to make millions of the items.
We were too small to make large production runs, but we were very adaptable at correcting mistakes in small runs. My wife, Julia did all sorts of admin stuff. Accounts, HR sort of stuff and a bit of project management.
I'd seen Carl, the owner of Centrix at our factory quite a lot recently. They did the designing and programming for some of our machines if it was too big for our small team. He had been to several of the meetings, Julia had been to all of them.
It was a Friday evening, and there wasn't time to make it home and back before we started work on Monday morning, so we decided I would stay in Glasgow over the weekend. I was knackered after a week of crawling around machinery and decided to have a night in. A decent steak, a couple of glasses of wine, then a couple of beers. And then probably catch up with an old movie on TCM.
This was probably the first time I'd had time to sit and ponder for a few weeks since this mayhem had started and then sitting here, it suddenly hit me. I'd worked out what it was, and a few months ago I'd suggested that instead of re-contracting Centrix for every job, why not have an overarching contract to cover every eventuality. A few months before that I'd also made a quip about being two companies, we might be better as one company, but that was just a ploy to get rid of a pain in my arse salesman and use Centrix's salesmen. It was a joke.
A few months ago we were at a BBQ round at Barstow's place, and I was chatting with Phillip. He was going to take over the company one day, he had been helping me out since one of the chaps that worked for me had gone to replace the salesman, who had quickly left. We got on very well. He'd been plying me with a range of beers, and I'd already had a warning from Julia about how much I was drinking. I was just a little tipsy and someone must have got me started on my hobby horse, underutilisation of our machinery. We had everything from manual lathes to the latest CAD milling machines doing runs of 100 to 1.000 items. And I was certain there was a way we could work with Centrix to get more use out of our machines and one good way was to arrange a permanent contract with them.
Then it struck me, that was it, and that would probably explain the shindig on the Friday I was due home, both companies were going to the Red Hart in town for a bit of a do. We were told it was because we had just completed a big contract where both companies had worked very well together to overcome some problems that the customer had given us. I bet that they were going to announce the contract then.
Right time for dessert, then phone home to Julia for our evening chat, before some 80/- and the telly. I was still a little pissed at her, but I was getting over it with our chats. She kept apologising. It still annoyed me, but it was water under the bridge. We couldn't go back and change it.
It was the Friday before I came away on the Sunday, she had gone to the Red Hart with Anne and Jane from the office to sort out some details of the do and have a few drinks. Things seemed to get out of hand, I was expecting her home about half seven or a tad later. We had a weekend of kinkiness and loving planned as I was going to be away for a while. We hadn't been apart for that long since I'd been in the Service.
She didn't get in till just after ten and she was in no state for anything. In fact, Jane had to bring her home in a taxi, and she threw up on the pavement as she got out. And we'd have to pick her car up from town tomorrow. Jane explained to me that they had bumped into some of the designers from Centrix and they had plied them with a few drinks, although Jane thought Julia didn't drink that much, but it seemed to go straight to her head and the Centrix people had to help them out.
It crossed my mind that she may have been drugged. But Jane and Anne were with her and the people from Centrix wouldn't be that stupid, they were all intelligent people. And the Centrix people had girls with them, so Jane told me, surely they wouldn't allow anything untoward to happen. I pushed that thought away. Perhaps it was just something she ate.
She didn't get up till nearly midday on Saturday and was still not in a fit state for anything.
Sunday morning, she wasn't much better. What a waste of a weekend.
As I was upstairs packing to catch the 4:00 o'clock flight from Bristol, she sidled up to me and gave me a kiss. Unfortunately, all I could think of was she doesn't smell of puke anymore.
"Come on sweetie we've got time for a quick one before you go. I'm sorry I don't know what happened, but I'll make it up to you when you get back."
"I'm not going to get any for two weeks and you want a quickie. I was looking forward to a weekend of loving and rest because the next two weeks are going to be full on, but no, I have to spend all my time going around clearing up your puke. I don't mind it's a husband's job, but why did it have to be this Friday. No, I don't want a quickie. I don't mind you going out. I don't mind you getting a little tipsy or even drunk occasionally, but why this weekend?"
She said grumpily. "I'm not going to get any for two weeks either."
Then I was underhand, I muttered under my breath. "It's a good job Shitheads not still around then."
That got me a withering look, I probably deserved it, but she didn't say anything. It was as if she deemed it wasn't worth an answer, she was more than likely right.
But she carried on. "How about a blowjob, I think I could manage one of those." Oh, it just gets better and better.
She took me to the airport. It was frosty in the car. We didn't look like a married couple who were going to be separated for a few weeks. We gave each other a peck on the cheek, and we both said. 'I love you'. I felt bad but she'd been snapping at me for the last couple of weeks about working late getting ready for the new machinery. But then she goes and gets pissed and ruins a weekend before I go away. OK, we're married, we make mistakes, I shouldn't be angry, but I can't help it, I am.
We try not to go to bed angry and here I am flying to the other end of the country angry, this does not bode well.
It was a very nice hotel in Glasgow, the amount of money we're paying for the machinery the company could afford to be generous. I did phone her as soon as I got to the room. I remembered to turn my phone back on and let her know everything was okay, I had calmed down a bit and we both apologised to each other.
So here I was sitting having dinner in the hotel restaurant on my own, the two designers decided I was a miserable old bugger and went out to enjoy the city. They were probably correct. I was waiting for my dessert, I had a quiet evening planned. Just me a few beers and some old films on the hotel system to watch, and a call to Julia.
I was sat facing the entrance and I noticed a kerfuffle at the restaurant entrance, the Maitre'd was telling someone that they couldn't come in, then I saw Julia push her way past the Maitre'd and walk towards me, she was pulling a small suitcase and wearing a mackintosh.
She looked immaculate and she had a huge smile on her face.
Julia turning up in Glasgow wearing a mackintosh; the irony was not lost on me.
The Maitre'd was following her. "Madam, you cannot come in here without a reservation."
She stopped by me and said to him, "I am talking to my Husband."
