| The next day Alfie was working from home, there’d be no more Saturday mornings at Anderson’s, and the working week would now be conducted at his own work station rather than sharing Dave Jeffries work space. Everybody had assumed Alfie would go on to be a cutter, everybody except Fred Stanbury who along with his brother Louis owned Kilgour. Fred realised the importance of good coat makers and believed they should have equal status to the cutters. Fred took it upon himself to make Alfie an offer he couldn’t refuse; he’d basically be his own boss within the firm, a non executive director with a 5% share in the company. Alfie’s deal meant he had his own customer list and would be able to make for all the firms on the Row, the one proviso was that any non Kilgour work must be taken home and done in his own time, that’s how he came to be working on a Hacking jacket for Huntsman that morning. When David eventually fell home he was in for a rude awakening, Polly had packed her bags and left him a note, “Sort yourself out or I’m leaving”. David had never sobered up quicker in his life, the only two things in his life worth having were Polly’s love and the fine manor house they shared. It had been in his family for three generations, but due to his indiscriminate spending he’d had to mortgage it years ago, when he lost his job Polly paid off the mortgage, and he was well aware that a good divorce lawyer would have him out on his ear if things went that far. Tracie had packed her bags too, in a couple of hours her and Alfie were off to Paris for a whole week. Neither of them could normally afford such a lavish holiday, but thanks to the prize money from Alfie’s award and the contacts Louis had given him, they’d managed to pay the holiday at cost. David had no choice but to turn his life around, but he didn't think he could, this thought only made him want to drink more, he poured a small brandy for dutch courage downed it in one, and went to find Polly. He made his way to the kitchen were his house keepers was clearing up. “Morning Sir, The Missus has gone to her Mothers for the weekend, and Mr Allen came to collect the trousers”. Let’s start again shell we, its Mary isn’t it? We’ve always been far too formal, you may call me David, my wife Polly and Mr Allen is Johnny. I get the feeling you’ve always called them by their first names anyway. Mary Smith burst out laughing; David had no idea why but joined in anyway. “Right Sir, if we’re dropping all this formal nonsense I want to be straight with you”. David was taken aback with this statement but nodded his agreement nether the less. “You stink like a brewer’s yard and if you’re expecting anything more than coffee for breakfast you’d better get bathed and changed!!” |