AA Lock Stock and Barrel 3

Isabel. Entrepreneur and asset stripper.
Edward Thorpe Isabel’s father. Deceased.
Josephine Thorpe Isabel’s mother.
Lucinda Thorpe Isabel’s sister.
Abigail Thorpe Isabel’s 2nd sister
Veronica Thorpe Isabel’s 3rd sister
Jacqueline Thorp Isabel’s youngest sister
Marjorie Tansley Lawyer to Edward Thorpe
Shula Isabel’s bisexual female partner.

When Isabel reached the Drover’s Arms Hotel, the rain had really started to turn it on. When she pulled into the old coaching yard, she was really grateful that somebody had just vacated a customer parking space right next to the rear door of the hotel.

It was but two steps to reach the shelter of the rear porch and she stood
Giggling to herself as the first crash of thunder resounded around the valley where the town nestled. This prompted her to get inside quickly and collect her room key from reception. As she collected her key she spied that the public bar had a pleasant log fire and it being mid-week, the room was almost empty.

On seeing that the lounge was completely empty and that there was no fire in the hearth; the room looked cold and inhospitable she chose the bar.

She decided to have a nightcap before retiring to bed.

Having never returned to her hometown since running away at an early age, Isabel had never drunk in the bar of the Drover’s and although she was truly worldly wise to the conventions of a large cosmopolitan city like Manchester, she had rarely encountered the somewhat constrained norms of small Northumbrian pit villages.

A single woman breezing into the public bar was a rare event that rustic men often took to be a sign of availability. The click of dominoes went momentarily silent at the table in the front window and all heads turned to stare at the exotic vision now standing at the bar. Even the single guy sitting at the bar stopped to stare.

Isabel quickly realised she was inviting unwanted interest if she remained so she ordered her small, white wine and soda then promptly took the seat by the hearth and facing the fire with her back turned to the others in the bar. It was a clear message that she did not want to invite interest. Her plan was to drink the small white wine.

She had barely finished her first brief sip and was staring thoughtfully into the fire when the inevitable shadow loomed over the back of her chair.

“You’re not from round here then love.”

She gave a slight wag of her head and the briefest flicker of a smile to indicate disinterest. She did not want to appear rude but, like so many men; even the slightest response would somehow invoke the misapprehension that a lady, alone in a pub bar, might be ‘up for it.’

Isabel resumed staring into the flames while twisting her glass slowly in her hand when he decided to try and press his suite.

“Where you up for the funeral like?”

Again, she gave the slightest wag of her head and took another tiny sip of her wine before returning her gaze to the flames.

“Sad business mind.” He tried the alternative tactic of trying to pique her curiosity.

His tactic worked but not the way he had hoped, Isabel replied somewhat patronisingly.

“I believe funerals usually are.”
“Yes. Sad business for the town as well.”

Isabel suddenly realised she might learn some useful information about the factory if she chose to listen. Men often liked to talk about stuff they felt they knew something about so Isabel intimated that she might be prepared to listen.

“The town you say; why, has there been some sort of disaster or something?”

“Well, sort of. The old man who used to run the factory was buried yesterday and they’re in a bit of a quandary. My name’s Pete by the way.”

Without asking, he took the other wing-back chair on the other side of the wide ‘inglenook’ fireplace.

“Quandary?” Isabel raised an interested eyebrow whilst not reciprocating the name favour.

“Nobody seems to know what’s going to happen and the family seem to be keeping their plans close to their chest.”

“What does the town think?”

“They’re afraid the family will sell up and the work will go abroad. China like.”

“That would be bad for the town I suppose.”

“Catastrophic,” Pete finished. “There’s no other work. Newcastle’s the nearest other work and there’s not much there.”

“That’s sad.” Isabell finished her drink and stood. “Well I’m sorry to learn about it but I’ve got to go to bed. Nice talking to you, goodnight.”

The abruptness of her departure finally put across the massage. Isabel was not interested or ‘available.’ The domino players chuckled softly at Pete’s failure and he returned to the bar to finish his drink.

“Bombed out Pete?”

“Nah, she’s nou’t but a toffee-nosed snob.”

ooo000ooo

Before dawn Isabel was met by a blanket of snow as she prepared to meet with Marjorie and inspect the factory at first light. She ate a full breakfast alone then drove to Marjorie’s cottage that stood on the same lane as Josephine’s family house. She debated calling on her mother but it was not yet seven o’clock and she wanted to see the factory as soon as possible. Marjorie was waiting by her garden gate as Isabel’s four-by-four arrived scrunching through the pristine snow.

“Brrr! That’s a lazy wind.” Marjorie grinned as she gratefully savoured the heat of the car.”

“Tis ever thus in Northumberland,” Isabel agreed as she turned the car and headed back to the town. The old expression ‘Lazy wind’ was well known to Northumbrians. The wind went through you not around you.

They arrived as some of the workforce were shovelling impacted snow away from the gate where the snowplough had set the snow up to form a barrier. Then Isabel recognised Pete from the previous evening as he stepped forward. Pete immediately recognised Marjorie as the company secretary then he looked askance at Isabel.

“You’re the lady from the Drover’s, last night.”

Isabel smiled and nodded.

“Oh. Don’t get out. We’ll have the gateway cleared and then we’ll clear the yard with our JCB. Can you back up to let the JCB out?”

Isabel did as requested and the work was soon completed. Marjorie took the office keys from her handbag and handed them to Isabel in a demonstratively, ceremonial manner that left the men wondering who the other woman was.

“She’s a bit of alright,” One of the men remarked to Pete as they all watched the pair enter the office.”

“Wonder what she wants.”

“I dunno,” Pete replied’ “but she’s obviously here on business. Did you see the way Marjorie’s dancing attendance.”

“You’re the union man, you should find out.”

“Let’s not be hasty. I’m sure she’ll tell us in good time. Go and put the bloody kettle on, I’m freezing after shovelling the snow.”

In the office, Isabel was doing exactly the same; switching the heating on and making some tea.

“What time do the office staff arrive?” Isabel asked.

“Ted often came in at seven but the girls Madge and Betty alternate to come in for eight.”

“So I’ve got an hour to check the books.”

“They’re actually quite healthy. The patented parts production line produces a steady income stream then the repair and maintenance side comprises the seasonal work and emergency repairs.”

“Let’s look at the order book first.”

Marjorie took the book from the fireproof locker behind Betty’s desk and Isabel turned back the pages for the past month. After half an hour, Isabel nodded with satisfaction then next looked at the customer book.

“Pretty good. I see dad ran things pretty well.”

“He did, but it’s the girls Betty and Madge who keep the records in order. Speaking of whom, here’s Betty now.”

For a moment Isabel looked up and hardly recognised the fortyish Betty as she paused in the doorway and frowned to see a woman in her early thirties trespassing at old Mr Thorpe’s desk. Marjorie quickly stepped into view from beside the fire-proof locker.

“Aah. Morning Betty, this lady is Ms Isabel Thorpe.”

“Good morning,” Betty replied somewhat frostily as she directed her question to Marjorie, “and she is here as -?”

“Ms Thorpe is the new Managing director.” Marjorie explained.

“Managing director? I would have thought that job might have gone to one of Eddie’s daughters. Lucinda for instance. She was always the lead horse.”

‘Here comes crunch time.’ Isabel surmised.

“Lucinda wasn’t too keen to take the job on.” Marjorie explained as she knowingly tried to make Isabel’s transgender revelation marginally easier. “She wanted to sell the business and split the proceeds between her and her sisters.”

“That would have broken Eddie’s heart.” Betty observed. “He always wanted the business to remain in the family’s hands.”

“I know.” Marjorie agreed.

Betty sighed.

“He never forgave himself for causing that boy of his, Digby to run away. It’s a pity he wasn’t as thoughtful of his own flesh and blood as he was of his own workforce.”

“Well, that’s water over the dam now. We are going to just have to press on. Isabel here has a lot of experience in business and manufacturing. She’s promised to see what she can make of the business.”

Betty studied the woman who seemed more interested in the books than the conversation. Finally she felt forced to ask:-

“Thorpe you say. So you’ve got the same sir-name as Eddy. I’m presuming then that your some sort of relative. A niece perhaps or a younger cousin.”

Isabel decided to take the bull by the horns for in truth she was truly curious to see how the revelation would go down in a small Northumbrian pit town.

She was not afraid, for Isabel had crossed enough Rubicons and fought enough wars to be inured to any sort of transphobia. She looked up from the books and stared directly into Betty’s eyes.

“I am his oldest daughter actually; previously I was his son Digby.”

ooo000ooo