“I haven’t been able to find a new one for the simple reason jobs aren’t that easy to come by at the moment. And by the way, it’s
not my fault you’re a success story and a bloody millionaire.”
“And it’s not my fault that you’re penniless and always out of work. The truth is that jobs are easy enough to come by for someone who can supply references from his last employer.”
“Just what are you hinting at?” said Michael.
“I’m not hinting at anything.”
Several members had stopped taking part in the conversation in front of them as they tried to listen to the one going on behind them.
“What I am saying,” Philip continued, “is that no one will employ you for the simple reason that you can’t find anyone who will supply you with a reference—and everybody knows it.”
Everybody didn’t know it, which explained why most people in the room were now trying to find out.
“I was made redundant,” insisted Michael.
“In your case redundant was just a euphemism for sacked. No one pretended otherwise at the time.”
“I was made redundant,” repeated Michael, “for the simple reason that the company profits turned out to be a little disappointing this year.”
“A little disappointing? That’s rich. They were nonexistent.”
“Caused by the fact that we lost one or two of our major accounts to rivals.”
“Rivals who, I’m informed, were only too happy to pay for a little inside information.”
By now most members of the club had cut short their own conversations as they leaned, twisted, turned and bent in an effort to capture every word coming from the two men seated in the window alcove of the club room.
“The loss of those accounts was fully explained in the report to shareholders at this year’s AGM,” said Michael.
“But was it explained to those same shareholders how a former employee could afford to buy a new car only a matter of days after being sacked?” pursued Philip. “A second car, I might add.” Philip took a sip of his tomato juice.
“It wasn’t a new car,” said Michael defensively. “It was a secondhand Mini and I bought it with part of my redundancy pay when I had to return the company car. And in any case, you know Carol needs her own car for the job at the bank.”
“Frankly, I am amazed Carol has stuck it for so long as she has after all you’ve put her through.”
“All I’ve put her through. What are you implying?” asked Michael.
“I am not implying anything,” Philip retorted. “But the fact is that a certain young woman who shall remain nameless”—this piece of information seemed to disappoint most of the eavesdroppers—“also became redundant at about the same time, not to mention pregnant.”
The barman had not been asked for a drink for nearly seven minutes, and by now there were few members still affecting not to be listening to the altercation between the two men. Some were even staring in open disbelief.
“But I hardly knew her,” protested Michael.
“As I said, that’s not the version I heard. And what’s more I’m told the child bears a striking resemblance—”
“That’s going too far—”
“Only if you have nothing to hide,” said Philip grimly.
“You know I’ve nothing to hide.”
“Not even the blonde hairs Carol found all over the back seat of the new Mini. The girl at work was a blonde, wasn’t she?”
“Yes, but those hairs came from a golden retriever.”
“You don’t have a golden retriever.”