Clemency's Point

Chapter Thirteen

As it turns out the "mutiny" was nothing to really worry about and was sorted within ten minutes of occurring. Of course, Jamie had been dispatched immediately by Granddad Tom as any mention of the cricket team sent him into a frenzy, so it was just easier to get things sorted straight away. That left Jenny and Granddad Tom to discuss the "battle plan" as it were. They had shuffled around a few ideas and most of them revolved around the Gazette so naturally, Jenny would be in charge. As soon as she got back into the office, Jenny put the plans into action. There would be full on campaign adverts, thorough investigations into what the Hell Sweeney was actually up to with Farnsworth and of course get up The Purple Rinse Brigade's nose, which pleased Jenny no end. In fact, most of the early part of the week was taken up with plan making. On Wednesday morning however, life once again threw Jenny a curveball.

It had started out just like the previous two mornings; Jenny had dug out her finest spring work suit and flats, wandered down High Street grabbing a coffee and a kiss from Alex along the way, before checking on the picketers who had installed themselves outside the W.I. Offices, finally arriving at Gazette Headquarters fifteen minutes after she had begun her journey. She hadn't even managed to take her jacket off before Mac's bellowing voice echoed through the office. Jenny took a deep breath, placed her cup on the desk and straightened herself up before striding into Mac's office with a confidence that she had to admit had been missing in previous weeks. Mac was standing facing the window puffing away on his e-cigarette, fists on hips, his stomach straining against his shirt. He turned his head when he heard the creaking of the floor boards. Mac looked Jenny up and down before he turned fully around.

'Sit down girl.' He ordered. Jenny took another deep breath before sitting down on an unused empty chair. Mac began to pace back and forth causing Jenny to feel slightly uneasy. For a second she thought she was back in the Mayor's office getting scolded for something she had done but when she saw the swirl of smoke, her mind focused.

'You probably know why I called you in here first thing.' He said through the side of his mouth. Trying to ignore the fact that her boss was dribbling everywhere, Jenny shook her head.

'Everything I've done for the paper has been with your permission so I can't see where I've done anything wrong.' She replied.

'No, no it's nothing you've done.' Mac waved his hand. 'Its something a little more...complicated shall we say.'

'Complicated?' Jenny furrowed her brow in confusion before the sinking feeling hit her in the stomach. The fact that Malachi Morris, the infamous Irish man with bluster wouldn't look her in the eye confirmed what she was thinking and what deep down she already knew. Just as Jenny was about to open her mouth to speak, Mac got there first.

'You've probably heard the rumours by now.' He began. 'And I haven't been completely honest with you.'

'So you are retiring.' Jenny realised that her question came out as more of a statement. Mac breathed out and finally sat down. He leant back in his chair and took another long drag of his e-cigarette, with Jenny getting the hint of whisky in the vapour that was drifting in her direction. Mac's silence spoke volumes. Jenny knew that she should have listened to her gut but with everything else going on she had almost willed herself into believing that it wasn't true.

'When?' Jenny finally asked, her voice audibly cracking.

'I was thinking maybe at the end of the year.' Mac replied with no hint of emotion. 'I have been liaising with a travel agency in Ireland; that's all the meetings I've been to by the way. I suppose I'm at that age where I'm starting to miss the old country.'

'So take a holiday or something.' Jenny said in desperation. 'I mean retiring sounds like a bit much.'

'I'm an old man, girl.' Mac argued. 'This place needs something younger, more virile. I'm searching for someone to take over from me as we speak.'