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Starting Over Again	By : gallygaskins Category: 1 through F > Clocking Off (BBC) > Clocking Off (BBC) Views: 1117 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Clocking Off and I do not earn any money from this fanfiction.

Chapter List
- 8
- 9
- 10
Chapter 9 – Several Country Dashes.

“Oh Mack, she looks lovely. A real keeper. Doesn’t she, Martin?” Trudy remarked as she handed a photograph of Mack and Sophie on their wedding day over to her husband.

“Aye, you’ve done alright there, mate. Certainly keep you warm on a cold dark night anyway.” Trudy slapped his arm playfully as the three laughed.

“She’s wonderful; I can’t wait for you all to meet her.” Mack puffed with pride.

“And how long are we going to have to wait?” Trudy asked, looking through more of the photographs Mack was showing off.

“I’m hoping for Christmas and New Year, if not a little bit before. That’s when she promised. Or rather, that’s when her PA said she’d be available to come home.” There was sadness in his tone.

“Are you alright?” Trudy questioned, putting her hand on his shoulder.

He half smiled, “yeah, I just miss her. I was planning to be in a place with her by now, decorating and furnishing and maybe even awaiting the arrival of the patter of tiny feet.” He looked up to two sets of bewildered eyes, “it’s what we both wanted.” He shrugged, “she was even keener than I was about kids.” He sighed heavily.

“Christmas will soon be here, mate.” Martin encouraged.

“And you’re welcome to stay as long as you like,” Trudy suggested, knowing that Martin wasn’t going to be keen but she felt it was the least they could do for the man that was giving them another chance. “After all, got to keep the boss happy haven’t we.”

“Thanks you two, but I’ve been looking around for somewhere and I think I’ve found something. Just an apartment that I can rent until Sophie turns up. Something I can get out of quick. I’ll be out of your hair by the end of next week I should imagine.”

“You really don’t have to?”

“Yes, I do. I never intended to stay with you for long and, to be honest, never expected you two to ask me in the first place after all that we’ve been through but I am thankful and grateful. And the two of you need your space. Surprised you’ve not had kids yet, hasn’t Kev’s made you broody, Trudy?”

“Have you seen them? No, you haven’t … they’d put you off if you had.” She smiled, taking Martin’s hand.

“What with the haulage company and everything we just never had time.” Martin mentioned, looking over to Trudy with a sad expression, “and then we found out,” taking her other hand in his other, “that we couldn’t have them.”

“I … I’m sorry.”

Trudy smiled to him, “Don’t be, just one of those things.”

Mack was a little uncomfortable with the turn of conversation and decided to change tack. “So, Monday. What exactly have we got planned …”

Mack got up from his desk and walked through to the outer office, “Trudy, get Peter Cochrane on the phone and tell him I want to see him. Pronto!” He started walking back into the office slamming the door behind him.

“What’s up with him?” Freda Wilson asked Trudy.

Trudy shrugged, “he’s been like this for weeks now, well since Christmas really but he seemed to be coping for a while.”

“It’s nearly bloody Easter.”

“I know!” She whispered.

“I’ll have a cup of tea, too, thanks.” Mack strolled back out into the office. “And what do you want, Freda. Am I paying you too much, ‘cause it looks like you don’t need the work if you continue to gossip with Trudy?”

“No, Mack.”

“Well … is there a problem I can help you with then?” He pouted, his shirt sleeves rolled up his arms and his hands in his trouser pockets.

“No, Mack. Well, yes in a way. I’m taking a collection for Gerry; she’s going off next week to have her baby.”

He shifted his gaze around the room, finding Trudy who was biting her lip. He looked down to the space in front of him and fished out his wallet. “Oh, right,” he rocked on his heels as he opened the leather wallet and drew out a £20 note. “Will that do?”

“Yes, Mack. Thanks.”

“Well, smaller crew at the moment. Boost the pot a bit.”

“Yeah, that’s great. Right I’ll get back to work.”

“You do that,” he took the proffered mug from Trudy. “Thanks, Trudy.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Talk about what?”

“Mack … has this got something to do with Sophie?”

“Has what got something to do with Sophie?”

“This,” she held her hands up in exasperation. “This, you, the mood, calling Peter Cochrane.”

“No, and I’d thank you to keep your nose out of things.” He turned on his heel and strode back into the confines of his office. He thought he’d kicked the door shut but turned to see why it hadn’t slammed shut. Trudy was in the doorway, “What?”

“Come on, Mack. Don’t forget I know you. I’ve seen enough of your moods to know when something is really troubling you. What is it?”

“I don’t think she wants me anymore. Her new life is obviously more appealing to her than a life with me would be,” he sat down in his chair, leaning his head in his hands. He looked totally distraught.

Trudy took the seat opposite him, “have you tried phoning her?”

“Yes, her, her PA, the galleries. I’ve even phoned her brother in France and he’s as much in the dark as I am, both of us are getting the brush off. And he’s blood.”

“Why don’t you go and see her?”

“I’ve tried, every time I actually get through to someone they tell me that she’s in one place and when I phone there they tell me she’s somewhere else, I can’t even pin my wife down. I’ve even left messages for her with the building porter where she’s supposedly living. I just can’t get to her.”

“Has her brother said anything to you? Is she prone to doing things like this?”

“He just suggests that she has been drawn in by this company and they have been blinding her with riches and the good life. He’s told me not to worry, that she will eventually come around and come back to me but I can’t do it anymore. It’s been 9 months; if she had any feelings for me then she’d have at least phoned, surely?”

“Unless …”

“Unless?”

“Unless … they have her believing that you don’t care about her.”

“No, she wouldn’t believe that.”

“Are you sure, you did tell me that when you met she wasn’t exactly very confident about herself.”

“It’s true she didn’t feel good about herself but she blossomed with me.”

“But that doesn’t mean she’ll keep that new found confidence especially if the characters around her are extremely assertive themselves. She obviously needs your security and without that she may not function in the same way. There may be a character there that is like that ex-boyfriend of hers or one that is making her feel like she needs no-one. You just don’t know. I’m sure she’d have phoned if she’d known you had phoned her. I think someone may be trying to divide the two of you.”

“Well, if that’s true then they’re doing a damn good job and with what I’ve got planned …”

“What are you planning, Mack?”

“I’m going to get Peter to draw up divorce papers, at least that way I’ll get some kind of contact with her seeing as it will have to be Sophie that is petitioned.”

“Isn’t it a bit drastic? Mack you should go and see if you can find her first?”

“No, I’m doing this my way.”

Trudy shook her head, sighing as she got to her feet and moved across the office, she stopped at the door, “I’ll speak to Peter directly, see if I can get him in later on then.” She watched him nod his head slowly before leaving the room and sitting back down at her desk. She picked up the phone and dialled, “Hi, directory enquiries? Can I have the number for Harper and Wallace? They’re art dealers in London.”

.oOo.

Even Sophie couldn’t quite say how she’d managed to get a day off as she bumbled her way through Selfridges. She had to fight Lena for it but she was glad to be out and on here own. For 9 months she’d spent her life on a rollercoaster of travelling from city to city, painting, and selling herself and her art to executive types and bored housewives with more money than sense. From somewhere she’d managed to reintroduce herself to her confidence and tell, rather than ask, her PA for well earned time off. She was tired, irritable and cross. She’d been unable to see Mack at Christmas and New Year because of the stupid schedule they’d given her and now she believed herself to be estranged from him. The messages that she had been passed by her PA never had a number and she didn’t have a clue where he now lived or even where the factory was.

She picked up garments off the clothes rails. Turned over shoes and looked at the price. Wandered around the food hall, wondering at the high calorie food that she was no longer allowed to eat. All in all, she was fed up and absently moved around the store up and down on the escalators.

On one floor, a brightly coloured bedspread caught her eye and she meandered over to it. Beads and sequins possessed by the halogen display lights glare twinkled as she moved closer and she began to see embroidered threads running over the design in bright golds and coppers, picking out the bright yellow sunflower petals and the dark brown of the seeds. “That’s mine!” She quietly remarked to herself, running her hands over the fine Egyptian damask cotton.

She turned around, looking for the stand that held the products for sale. She picked up a pillowcase and looked at the label on the front. ‘An exclusive design for Selfridges by Sophie Walker’. He’d used her name on the packaging; her heart went to her mouth. She took the few steps back toward the made up bed and sat on the edge, turning the packet over in her hands. She felt her heart skip a beat as she saw his face amongst the small group of people on the back label. He was standing at the back, his slightly longer hair fluttering in the breeze, his blue eyes piercing into her very soul. She read the address and realised she could find him. She let out the breath she was seemingly holding and fell back onto the bed. Thoughts of their wedding came back into her head as she lay there, forgetting where she was.

“Excuse me, madam.”

“Mmm,” she let out, thinking about Mack’s hands roaming her body.

“Madam?”

She opened her eyes noticing the sales assistant’s intent glare. She sat up abruptly. “Sorry.” She found her way to the nearest till and paid for the solitary pillowcase, nearly skipping from the building as she made her way up Oxford Street to Marble Arch tube station. She got herself to her flat as quickly as she could, found the jeans and t-shirt that she’d had on the day she went into the world of Harper and Wallace, put on the favourite pair of Manolo’s and picked up the small amount of personal effects that were actually hers. She found her bag and put her bits in it.

Within half an hour she was stood outside Lena’s office, keys in hand. She knocked and entered, without waiting for the customary ‘come in’. “What’s up?” Lena asked, smiling her smarmy smile.

“Nothing,” Sophie replied, “nothing at all, it’s just that it’s taken me this long to realise what it is that I really want.”

“And what’s that, darling?”

“My life back. I want my husband and I want to have his children.”

“In Manchester?” She turned her nose up.

“Yes, in Manchester.”

“He doesn’t want you!”

“And what do you know of it?”

“Enough, he’s phoned but never waits to speak to you or profess his love for you.”

“Probably because you never let him.”

“What are you trying to say?”

“I have this feeling that you have tried to suppress me for your own end, and in order to do that you have used my feelings for my husband against me. You’ve used me, and kept me down so that you and this god forsaken company you work for, to take me for the biggest ride of my life. I have done everything that you’ve asked and I’m still no nearer to getting home. I don’t paint to please these people, I’m just painting so that they can bandy me about and see which one of them I’ll pander to next. Well, I’m not going to do it anymore.”

“Sophie, you’ve made so much money.”

“But to what end, the expense of losing the love of my life for a few extra quid. I was rich because I had his love, without him I’m poor.”

“So where are you going to go, do you think your husband will still want you?”

“I don’t know, but I’ve got to try. I just hope he can forgive me my stupidity. I went into this because I thought it would help my family but it’s just driven me from them. I haven’t even spoken to my brother and his family since the New Year and I had a lonely Christmas when I should have been with Mack. I want to paint but not like this. Here,” she threw the keys onto Lena’s desk, “the keys to the flat and the car. Everything’s’ there except for the shoes I’m wearing and,” she fished in her bag for her purse pulling out £200; she laid that on the table. “I’m sure that will be enough to pay for them as that’s all you’d get for them second hand. Right I’m off, you can keep the last few pieces and sell them on, use them as my payment for getting out of my contract. My solicitor will be in touch.”

And with that she was gone, out onto the street. She hailed a cab and got him to take her to Euston station where she picked up a train for Manchester Piccadilly. She pulled out the pillowcase as she took her seat on the express and looked at the photo again. “I’ll soon be there, Mack. Please don’t hate me.”

.oOo.

“So how long are you going to be away for?” Mack asked sullenly.

Sophie took his head between her hands and made him look at her, “they said it would be six months at the most and have promised that I will be able to join you for Christmas and New Year. I’m going to miss you so much, but this is going to be good for me, Mack. Good for us.”

“I know some gallery owners in Manchester, Sophie, why don’t you talk to them?”

“But can they give me the exposure that Harper and Wallace can? They have galleries in Paris, Munich, Rome and New York as well as London.”

“Sophie, are you really sure this is what you want?”

“Yes, Mack. Let me just do this, I’ll be back before you know it and then we can start making good on those plans of ours. I love you so much and I can’t bear to think I’m going to be away from you for so long but you’ll always be here,” she pointed to her heart, “just promise to keep in touch. I know you’re going to be busy setting up the factory but I’m going to need to know you’re ok.”

“I promise,” he kissed her; “at least I’ll be preoccupied enough to keep me from thinking about missing you too much, and you’ll be too busy to think of me.”

“Maybe, but I’ll miss having you in my bed, my husband.” She stroked the length of his face.

“Yes, that will be the worse time for us both.” He looked at his watch, “we only have 15 hours until you leave.”

“Then let’s make the most of it. Make love to me James?”

He picked her up in his arms, “your wish is my command, petal.”

Mack heard the closing of the main door, bringing him out of his reverie. He got up from his chair and made his way out to the outer office noticing Peter Cochrane’s arrival, going to him and shaking his hand.

“Right, so she left … when? … Oh, ok, about three and a half hours ago … do you know where she’s going? … Really? … do you have a number for her? … great thanks.” She looked up to find Mack staring at her, his arms crossed over his chest. “My friend,” she lied, “is coming to Manchester today.”

Mack nodded, “that’ll be a tea for me and you, Peter?”

“Tea, please, Trudy. Milk and one.”

She smiled, “yes, I remember, Peter. Right two teas then.”

Mack extended his hand to his friend, “hi, Peter. Come on in.” Peter followed Mack into the inner office and the door was closed.

Trudy busied herself with the tea and took them in as soon as they were done, knowing full well that it was going to be a lengthy meeting and so giving her time to use the phone. She went back to her desk, lifted the receiver, punched in the number and waited for the phone to be picked up. ‘Hello,’ said the soft female voice.

“Hello, is that Sophie?”

‘Yes.’

“Good, you don’t know me but I’m a friend of Mack’s …”

.oOo.

Sophie watched the scenery speed by as the spring sunshine warmed the landscape with its golden rays. The train had just stopped at Stockport and after consulting her watch, she knew she wasn’t that far from her goal.

A smile touched her lips at the thought of seeing Mack again, hoping that he would still want to know her. A phone rang somewhere and she realised it was her own, buzzing away in her bag on the vacant seat next to her. She fumbled around in her bag finally finding it and looking at the number. A Manchester code. Could it be Mack? She pressed the green button. “Hello?”

‘Hello, is that Sophie?’

“Yes.”

‘Good, you don’t know me but I’m a friend of Mack’s. My name is Trudy.’

“Trudy? Are you working for him again?”

‘Yes, look I need to ask you something.’

“What?”

‘What have you been up to? Because Mack is doing his nut.’

“I was conned into a life I never wanted and taken away from one I did.” She looked around the carriage at the numerous eyes that were now pointed in her direction.

‘Ok. Do you love Mack? And are you on your way up here to see him?’

“Trudy, I love him with all my heart and I am …” she sniffed back the tears that had formed, “so sorry for what I’ve obviously done to him. I never meant to hurt him but I heard nothing from him for months, I don’t even know if he cares about me anymore. And yes, I’m coming up to see him.”

‘He cares, Sophie. He still loves you too, but he said that you never answered his messages.’

“From when? Recently?”

‘Yeah, he said he left numerous messages, asking you to get back to him.’

“I never got any messages like that. Bastards! I knew they were up to something but that just takes the bloody piss.”

‘How far are you away?’

“5 minutes from Piccadilly. I’ll get a cab.”

‘Got the address?’

“Is it the one on the back of the linen? I have one of my pillowcases.”

‘Yes, it is. Get here as quick as you can.’

“I will, see you soon Trudy and thanks.”

‘Don’t thank me yet, see you.’

As soon as Sophie got off the train, she took off her shoes and sprinted out of the station and into the first available waiting cab. She gave the driver the address and was soon at the factory. After paying, she pulled open the front door and walked into the reception. Trudy was sat at her desk typing away on the computer in front of her. “Trudy?”

Trudy turned around and stood up, she held out her hand to Sophie, “Sophie, its good to meet you,” she smiled, “take a seat, he’s just in with his solicitor. Would you like a cuppa?”

“Yes, please. Coffee, thanks.” She had never been allowed coffee but that was another thing that was going to change. “With plenty of milk.”

Trudy handed her the mug and sat down next to her, sipping at the hot liquid in her own mug. “So, tell me how you met Mack?”

.oOo.

Mack got up from his seat and walked with Peter to the door of his office, “so we can get the ball rolling on this then, can we?”

“Of course,” Peter opened the door and stepped out. “As I said it’s a little bit irregular for these kinds of procedures but if you’re after impact then this is going to do it.”

Mack stepped out with him and took his hand, “can’t believe it though, how lucky can one guy be,” he noticed something out of the corner of his eye moving but he paid no attention to it, it was probably Trudy anyway. “Two marriages and now two divorces, thanks Peter,” he shook Peter’s hand.

“Mack?” Trudy shouted at him, standing and rushing to the door after her.

“What?”

She turned back to the two men. “Sophie, she was here?”

“Here?”

“Yes, here. As in sat there,” she pointed to the vacated chair, “heard your insensitive remark and ran off.”

“Shit,” he shouted out, moving over to the window and opening it. He stuck his head out to see the quickly retreating figure of a woman, speeding through the pouring rain. If that was Sophie, she’d lost weight. “Sophie? Sophie?” He called after her. She turned around, soaked to the skin, her hair matted, her make up streaming and looked straight through him, her grief stricken face shattering his heart. She may have been thinner, her hair may have been shorter but there was no mistaking those eyes, the same ones that had haunted him after they’d first met and those same eyes that had been with him every day whether by his side or in his dreams. “Sophie?” But it was no use she’d got to the road and hailed a cab. Within seconds she was in the dry confines of the vehicle and being driven off somewhere.

“Where is she?” Trudy demanded.

“She’s just got into a cab,” he said as he pulled himself back into the room. “What was she doing here, Trudy?”

“She was here to see you, to tell you how sorry she was for being away from you for so long. She was caught up in something she had no control over and it took an excursion to Selfridges to realise what was going on. Mack she loves you. Oh, you and your stupid ideas. I hope both of you are very proud of yourselves.” She sat back behind her desk, her anger simmering as she continued to type her letters.

“Where do you think she’ll go?” Peter asked.

“Why?” Mack answered.

“Because you need to talk to her Mack, obviously.”

“I don’t know?”

“Yes, you do,” Trudy said, “if you think about it?”

“Where, Mack? Think?” Peter encouraged.

“France, she’ll fly to Nice, before going to see her brother.”

Trudy got up from her seat and went into Mack’s office, bringing out his jacket and passport. She handed them to him, a smile touching the edge of her lips. “Good luck.”

He pecked her cheek. “Thank you, what would I do without you?”

“Well, let’s make this very plain, if you don’t make that airplane then you will have to do without me permanently.” She passed him the number, “Sophie’s mobile, got it off that woman in London, told her her sister-in-law had gone into labour and they needed her at home to help out with the kids,” she shrugged. Mack smiled.

“I’ll drive,” Peter said, grabbing his keys. “It’ll give you a chance to think about what you’re going to say to her.”

“I know what I’m going to say,” he said making his way out of the factory. “I’m just going to tell her how much I love her.”
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Starting Over Again