Free Sign of the Times by Susan Buchanan Page A

spotted Joe entering the pub.   Joe hadn’t seen Tom, as he was headed towards the lounge and not the bar side of The Jolly Japes.   Tom excused himself, pointing towards Joe.   He crept up on him and was just on the verge of pouncing, when he reeled back as if punched in the stomach.   Joe was sitting at one of the trestle tables, with none other than James O’Reilly.   Tom began to feel uneasy.    He wasn’t aware Joe knew O’Reilly socially.   He watched a brief exchange between the two men, heads huddled closely together.
    Tom witnessed Joe hand O’Reilly an A4 envelope.   O’Reilly quickly opened it and leafed through the four or five sheets of paper enclosed.   A sly grin spread over his face as the blood drained from Tom’s.   His worst fears looked to be confirmed as he watched O’Reilly, in turn, withdraw a small packet and hand it to Joe, who accepted it greedily.    He opened it and by the way his lips moved, Tom could plainly see that Joe was counting.   But like a cuckolded lover in denial, Tom asked himself if it were really possible that Joe would betray him like this, accepting bribes in exchange for Matthews Construction’s plans for tender.   Yes - that would explain how O’Reilly was able to undercut him.   He swallowed hard and turned away, shocked at this knowledge.
    Tom scarpered back to the bar.   He didn’t tell Mike everything, but let him know he hadn’t spoken to Joe and had a very good reason for not doing so.   He asked Mike not to let on they’d been in the pub tonight.

    Mike and Tom continued their drinks but Tom was unable to relax.   He wished Holly were here.   Outside the pub, Tom turned down Mike’s offer of a fish supper.   It was a fine night, so he decided to walk.   The moon was full and seemed to be smiling, or was it laughing at him?   The sky was sprinkled with twinkling stars, so he would have no difficulty finding the path to the farmhouse.   He hadn’t had much to drink and the evening’s events had sobered him somewhat.   He wished the walk was this Saturday.   He needed something to help him clear his head.

    The next thirty six hours flew.   Tom called Dawn.   Jamie wasn’t out of the woods yet, but the swelling had subsided considerably.   The consultant had cautiously indicated that this was a very positive sign.   Tom’s relief was palpable.

    Tom spent Friday looking through the latest tenders lost to O’Reilly’s.   In the last three months, they had lost nine tenders, each time at prices Tom wouldn’t have believed possible if his customers hadn’t consistently relayed them to him.   Tom wondered about the security of the files.   Who had access?   He’d ask Cynthia.   She was the soul of discretion.   He was certain only he and she had keys.   By now he was a hundred percent sure Joe was the reason he’d been losing so much money and why his company was in danger of going under.   He wouldn’t allow it to happen.   Grim, but determined, he picked up the Yellow Pages and looked under the section for Private Investigators.   He’d soon flush this particular rat out of its hole, but he needed proof.    He still had to take Joe to task over Jamie’s accident.   He would be expecting to be pulled up about it.   With a wry smile, Tom marvelled at Joe’s audacity and sheer stupidity.   It would have been easy for him to be discovered through clocking too much overtime.   Foolishly Joe had put himself in the limelight, the exact opposite of what Tom imagined a small-time crook such as Joe, should be doing.

    A week later, Jamie was over the worst.   Although his recovery would be slow, it looked like he would make a full recovery.   With a much lighter heart Tom closed his front door, trailing his camping gear behind him.   He was nervous.   So many things had happened recently he felt exhausted and overwhelmed.   He really needed this break.   Arranging to meet Shirley an hour before the others, it