hand up and it was carried by two votes. George was jubilant.
Barbara picked up the Melsham Gazette from the mat and took it to the kitchen where she poured herself a cup of coffee and sat at the table to read it.
‘The refurbishment of the marketplace, originally expected to cost ten thousand pounds, has been hit by unplanned additional costs, it was revealed at last night’s meeting of the town council. The estimate approved last year is woefully short of the mark and more work needs to be done than was at first anticipated. Councillor George Kennett, who has been campaigning vigorously on behalf of the new scheme, told our reporter that overspending was not uncommon on projects of this size and complexity and the benefits would outweigh the additional costs. Various ways had been put forward to raise the extra cash from the private businesses and he had no doubt it would be forthcoming.
‘Mr Kennett, who is mayor elect and a well-known local businessman, denied he had anything to gain personally. “My company will be submitting a tender along with several others,” he stated. “I have no influence on those who award the contract, nor would I wish to have.” Councillor Kennett went on to announce a competition to design a new fountain as the focal point for the refurbished marketplace. It will be open to anyone. Entry forms will be available at the town hall and the designs should be submitted by the first of September.’
Barbara put the paper down and stared out of the window. The morning sun was dappling through the branches of an apple tree, casting shimmering light and shade over the back lawn where a couple of starlings pecked. She had been hoping George would come to his senses and realise what he was proposing to do was too risky, but it was obvious that hadn’t happened. Already she sensed the paper looking for something to get their teeth into; she could feel the undercurrents, the veiled hints that all was not above board. It needed only a word in the wrong place for it all to come out and the edifice George had built around himself would come tumbling down around him. And it would bring the family down with it: Alison, Nick, Jay-Jay and his mother. Why could he not see that?
How could she go on supporting him when everything he did was despicable? Could she leave him? But that would cause the most dreadful scandal and they would all suffer, not only George who deserved it, but the children who did not. And where could she go? To Simon? Pretend there was another sighting of the old Barbara Bosgrove? But what would he say if she turned up on his doorstep, with her bags at her feet, her easel under her arm and a box of paints in her hand? That wasn’t a sighting, it was a migration.
‘Mum, I’m hungry.’
Jay-Jay stood before her in his pyjamas. He couldn’t understand why his mother suddenly pulled him onto her lap and hugged the breath out of him.
‘Sorry, George, you know how it is,’ Tony Bartram said, coming out of the council chamber with a thick folder under his arm. ‘We’re duty-bound to take the lowest bid, unless there’s something dodgy about the company, and we’ve no reason to think Melsham Construction is anything but a bona fide concern.’
‘Oh, it’s not your fault, old man,’ George said, putting a big hand on the other man’s shoulder. ‘You did your best.’
He had withdrawn from the meeting when the contract for the work was due to be debated and had been sitting in an outside office reading the Illustrated London News to pass the time. He could quite easily have stayed at home or gone for a drink, but he wanted to appear as if he hoped Kennett’s might be given the contract and disappointed when it was not, so he had hung around.
‘I must say you’re taking it very well. I’d have been flaming myself.’
‘No point in that,’ George said, pretending indifference. ‘Besides, competition never did anyone any harm. I thrive on it.’
‘What are you going to do?’
‘Same as always, get on with work in hand. I’d be a fool to let everything ride on one contract, wouldn’t I?’
‘Of course.’ Tony was relieved. ‘I know you’re too canny not to cover all eventualities. If there’s anything else I can help you with, let me know.’
George stayed a few minutes after he’d gone, then went home