Cyril Spriggs (2 of 4 chapters)

Continuation Chapter 2 Set in N. Bligh Solutions PLC High Holborn, London

Act 2.

 

Cyril strode off ,on way to the bus stop.  "Paper Sir?" squawked an ancient newspaper vendor.  Cyril declined gently "Had a good morning sir?" the old man continued.  Two pink eyes flashed in the darkness beneath the peak of his flat hat.

 

Cyril reacted as if aiming a two pounder anti tank gun. "Not a good morning actually but a very odd morning describes it well!"  This devil was proving  clever in his observations.  He slunk away chuckling, tar tainted, laughter.  This day was going to prove very tough indeed.  

 

It seemed certain that the fox like devil would be everywhere at all times.  He would have to be honest and forthright no matter what ; no matter when.  As he entered the office block where he worked dire thoughts of Helen Shapiro probed, uninvited into his mind.  Helen Shapiro!  Her onomastic origins made her name Sunray Speyer; Helen ancient Greek for 'Sunray' and Speyer an 'ancient Hebrew city'.  Wretched bully of a line manager that she was.  She fawned, doe eyed at Mr. Bligh the company owner.  She ruled Cyril and his three strong team with hypocritical venom.  She squeezed her ample body into size sixteen dresses.  She ruled with lofty laziness treating all subordinates with contempt.  Humiliation and viciousness were her management tools.  Self admiration and adoration were her traits.

 

Cyril settled behind his desk and soon tested his computer with serious work.  Ms.  Shapiro was late thank goodness.  Dear Mr Bligh was hard at it in his office.  A window cleaner stood at the windows outside on a pulley powered  gantry.  As he handled his leather on the glass unmistakeable wisps of black smoke turned as did the leather.  He was there, watching, waiting to claim Cyril's soul. 

 

Helen Shapiro was furious!  White hot with fury.   She had woken up feeling deeply relaxed and had thrown her arm out to hold her latest lover.  Her lusting arm caressed only her pillow.  The man she had met last night, the very man for whom she had purchased drinks, had crept out of her moderately expensive home. 

 

The sanctity of her home had been breached again.  Helen Shapiro's home had been hard won by well planned and executed allegations of discrimination at her earlier work places.  The allegations although fictitcious in nature had been created and presented with voracious cunning.  With weak tribunals finding in her favour, some wealth and much hubris had been accumulated!

 

Roger, the name last nights latest purported devotee had given, had declared such a deep and enduring fondness for her she had quite fallen for him.  The swine!  The absolute sneaky swine.  He had enjoyed her favours then crept, like a bloated bed bug, back to his own (undisclosed) abode.  She was late for work again thanks to the energy spent wasted on making love to another man who had lied, used and left her!

 

As she strode into the office she decided the wretched few, who comprised her subordinate team, would be made to suffer for her pain.  Especially that goody, goody ,virgin-boy, sissy Cyril Spriggs.  Or "Cy" as the wimp liked to call himself.  How she loved rubbing that Victorian Christian name in his face.

 

 First she would have to tell a few sweetly framed lies to pathetic Mr Bligh , the boss, to keep him in his place.  She made a mental note of the time and date she would be alone in his office with him.  This would be a perfect period to invent a tirade of sexism from him later on.  It was about time she earned a bundle from this moderate company.  As she marched past Spriggs at his desk she let fly with a daily softener "Are you looking at my bum you pervert, CYRIL Spriggs?"

 

A deep rage surged inside Cyril and a two pound anti tank gun sited in his brain swivelled.  It aimed at point blank rage at the seething Helen Shapiro.  "Yes I was staring at your bum."

 

Ms Shapiro slammed to a halt at such perceived impudence from a normally unresponsive victim.  She launched herself nose to nose across his desk.  "Really, virgin pervert CYRIL" said the enraged Helen, bright red lip gloss flecked her spittle. "Were you lusting for my bottom you little, brainless, creep?" 

 

"I was watching your bottom because you remind me of a hippo, lurching about with a freshly shot tranquiliser dart hanging out of its right buttock!"  Cyril answered with every gram of energy and honesty  he could muster. Cyril at this point saw what Helen Shapiro had not.  Mr. Bligh has entered the office and was watching the whole amazing event.

 

 "Is that so?" Ms Shapiro hissed.  "Before I tear out your throat is their anything else you should tell me Nancy boy?"

 

"Well" said Cyril.  "You are a bully of a manager.  You are always late and the laziest employee here. Your team here hates you; largely because of your incompetence. One more thing you breath smells rank of onions and cigarettes!"

 

This response  brought upon Miss Shapiro a temper so unstable that biting ants teemed around her brain and her words lost any element of planning.  With the strength of an enraged hippo she yanked Cyril's computer from his desk with such force all its web of electrical leads were wrenched free.  With a heave worthy of Tarzan she hurled the machine at, and out of, the office window.  The red eyed window cleaner had opened the window frame from his gantry and the computer missile crashed into his head.  With a 'pop' like a defective light bulb the window cleaner disappeared ,in a cloud of smoke, into the fresh air!

 

"You runt Spriggs." she screamed " I am in charge of you.  I will be late as often as I want. I work only if and when it suits me.  You are as senseless and weak as that idiot Bligh!"  With that she punched Cyril in the nose and started a steady flow of blood.  With a leap she wrenched the telephone from its connection and slammed it on the floor.

 

"Ms Shapiro!"  Mr Bligh's voice struck silence into the mayhem.  "Please step into my office." 

 

For the only time ever Ms Shapiro's team saw fear written in her face.  "I can explain" she muttered as she strutted off to Mr. Bligh's office.

 

The stunned Shapiro team clustered around Cyril.  How they congratulated him, shook his hand, cried with laughter and promised solemnly that if he were to be fired they would all leave in the only act of industrial action known at Bligh PLC.

 

After what seemed an age but was probably only five minutes Mr Bligh's door flew open and Helen Shapiro, dervish like, twirled out of the office.  "Disciplinary hearing!  Gross misconduct.  Me!  Me! I am Helen Shapiro and you, Bligh, can stick this job up your backside!  The building shook as she slammed the exit door behind her.

 

"Do step in my office Mr Spriggs."

 

 "Yes Sir" came the whispered and worried reply.

 

"What have you got to say Cy?" said Mr Bligh as he lent back in his chair.

 

"Well sir she came into the office in an obvious rage and started her day by sending a completely unnecessary, abusive,  volley at me.  She was late,  again!  I was angry so I decided that for once I would be completely honest. I told the truth! She exploded!"  Cyril dabbed blood with his checked handkerchief!

 

Mr Bligh responded "Well I shall bed as honest with you Cyril.  I saw it all.  Indeed I recorded  it on my phone camera!" 

 

He then to the astonishment of young Spriggs revealed that for over a year Ms Shapiro had been a source of huge worry for the company.  He knew she was idle and was a bully but not one of her victims had complained.  His main worry was that she was and always had been planning to use employment laws to leave and then sue the company.  The whole board were on egg shells with her.  Indeed they were almost at the point of taking action against her laziness.  This was risky as this would have triggered, unfounded but vicious, allegations from her about sexism and gender prejudice.  Tribunals were notorious for siding with even vexatious complainants.

 

 The company needed an incident to provide conclusive evidence of gross misconduct on her behalf.  Now, thanks to Cyril, a fool proof case had been handed to them on a plate.  Rather than face disciplinary action she had, in public and on video,  flounced out.

 

Mr. Bligh confirmed that the remainder of the 'Shapiro'  team were true stars.  Who, in spite of her, had kept the company ticking over.  If Mr Spriggs wanted  it ,Helen Shapiro's abandoned post was his, for the near future.  Applications would shortly be requested for her post and he invited Cyril to apply at once.  Just one slight critism.  Beware! Sometimes one can be too honest.

 

"Mr. Bligh thank you sir." gasped a much relieved and inspired Cyril Spriggs. " Please call me Cyril.  I have just started to detest that nickname Cy that,  for some  now inexplicable reason, I chose for myself."

"Of course Cyril" smiled a delighted Norman Bligh.

 

The name Norman Bligh translated to 'Northern Bliss'.  "How apropriate" thought Cyril.

 

Cyril emerged into the office a hero.  What a day this was turning out to be.  Goodness he needed a drink and after five o'clock he would go to the North Star Public House.  If he was lucky, very lucky he might catch a glimpse of Effy!  That would really compound a remarkable day.

 

"Effy" he just could not stop thinking about her.  He wondered too what her real name could be.  Fiona perhaps!  Maybe Finola.  Finola yes!  This was Irish for 'fair shoulders'.  Goodness how he could love those shoulders!  Fern, Francis, Felicity  which one?  Which one?