Clemency's Point

Chapter Seven

Jenny thundered down High Street with an angry look and a purpose in her step. Everyone who said "good morning" was simply ignored or pushed past without apology. This conveyed the message to everyone that Jenny May-Hill was in a seriously foul mood and it was better just to leave her alone. Even the heeled boots had been sacrificed in favour of flat shoes so she could walk with a quicker pace than normal. By now, The Mariners' patrons, aka the sea dogs had spread around stories of what had happened the previous night so there was more than enough understanding of Jenny's mood. Alex did attempt to provide his wife with a calming de-caffeinated Latte in a takeaway cup as he poked his head around the door of C&C, but Jenny didn't even look up as she grabbed the cup and carried on walking leaving her poor husband perplexed and empty handed.

'Ok then.' He said as he walked back inside. Jenny did feel a slight tinge of guilt at not stopping so made a mental note to issue a grovelling apology later. At that particular moment in time the Red Mist had descended and she had nothing but revenge on her mind; revenge against the person who had threatened her beloved home and in an indirect way, her family. And no one ever did that. It was bad enough in Jenny's mind that Sweeney had taken down Pip and injured him, but what he had said to her the previous night had hit so many nerves that not one bit of her wasn't boiling with rage. And she would continue to boil until the whole mess was sorted out.

The offices of the Boroughford Gazettewere in full madness flow when Jenny entered. Everyone stopped what he or she were doing and looked towards the door that had just banged against the wall, all be it unintentionally. Everyone who had shown up for work that day hurried back to their desks and spoke in hushed whispers as Jenny walked slowly through the desks, side-eyeing the writers and designers who were turning their heads away as though Jenny was Medusa herself. The Office Juniors almost dived under the table as Jenny brushed past and straight into Mac's office. The Editor was chewing on an unlit cigar whilst taking long puffs of the e-cigarette in his hand. He was standing rather than sitting, looking at a full size mock up of the front page, which hadn't been signed off on. In fact, Mac had been known to change it at the eleventh hour much to the printers chagrin. Mac turned his head and raised an eyebrow as Jenny brushed off the old papers from the chairs before throwing herself down upon one.

'Something wrong?' Mac asked with a hint of sarcasm. Jenny tilted her head and gave Mac a look that basically said that she was done with everything.

'I would bloody well say there's something wrong.' She replied. 'Suppose you've heard about what happened last night?'

'Aye I heard.' Mac nodded. 'I would say just about everyone has heard. A sad business I must say.' The Irishman paced up and down, chewing and puffing causing Jenny to screw up her face up at the hideous sound her employer was making.

'It's more than sad.' Jenny seethed. 'It's a bloody travesty and we need to do something about it for real.' Jenny banged her hand on the arm of the chair in frustration. Mac stopped and raised his eyebrow again.

'This has upset you greatly hasn't it?' he said with yet another hint of sarcasm that caused Jenny to roll her eyes.

'It's not funny Mac.' Jenny said sharply. 'The village is at stake here. Something needs to be done and now.'

'I agree with you my girl.' Mac nodded, taking the cigar out of his mouth. 'But we are only a small village and the paper is already doing all it can.'

'Well we need to do more.' Jenny stood up sharply, placed her hands on her hips and started pacing. 'This stupid idiot wants to take The Point for fuck's sake...'

'Language girl!' Mac scolded. Jenny raised her hand.

'I'm sorry, I'm upset.' Jenny continued pacing. 'I'm upset, I'm angry and I'm all of the above. I know the village is losing money, but if we get the whole village on side then we can convince the big hitters that Boroughford is worthy of their custom.'