Lost and Found in Lavender Bay (The Lavender Bay Chronicles #2)

29. Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Seven

W hen Laura returned to work, she had her sister’s advice planted firmly in her head. She hoped she didn’t crumble when it came down to it. It was easy to sit in her sister’s kitchen, drinking tea and being galvanized into action. It was a whole different thing to actually stand up for yourself, especially against someone who wielded some power. She didn’t have to wait long for a confrontation.

Les approached her as soon as she picked up her drill.

“A word, Laura,” he said, flipping through some pages on his clipboard. He performed this action all the time. She thought it made him feel important to have paperwork.

“Yes?”

She was aware of Toni behind her, getting ready for the day’s work, trying not to listen. She was glad she was not alone. She hoped whatever Les had to say was work-related.

“Let’s go somewhere where we can talk privately.” His tone suggested that he expected to be obeyed .

Laura planted her feet. It felt a little unladylike, but she stood firm. “We can talk right here, Les.”

He glared at her. “I prefer to go somewhere private.”

“And I prefer to hear what you have to say right here.”

He rounded on her. “Mrs. Knickerbocker, you don’t get to prefer anything. You do as you’re told.”

Laura felt the heat creep up her neck and fan out along her face.

Toni was at her side. “Come on, Laura, you can’t stand here all day chit-chatting. We’ve got to get to work. Remember what Mr. Treadwell told us yesterday? If we don’t pick up our speed, we’re canned.” She looked pointedly at Les. “We don’t want to get fired.”

Everything Toni said was a lie, and Laura knew she wouldn’t always be around to save her but this time, she’d dodged a bullet.

Les’s eyes swept down the length of Laura’s body and then back up, resting on her breasts.

“We will have this chat, Laura. Someday. At my choosing.” He turned and walked away, carrying his all-important clipboard at his side.

Beside her, Toni said, “You need eyes in the back of your head with him. He’s a snake.”

“That’s for sure. Come on, we better get to work. These rivets aren’t going to get drilled in themselves.”

Toni laughed.

For the next few weeks, Laura was careful, making sure she was never alone. But it was tiring trying to keep a constant watch out for Les. If she saw him coming, she cut through other departments, taking the long way around to her plane. Or she disappeared, making an excuse to use the restroom. At times, her bladder felt ready to explode as she held it until she spotted him so she could run to use the facilities and bide her time. She knew this wasn’t exactly what Lenore had in mind, but she hoped he’d forget about her and leave her alone. But that would mean he would move on to someone else.

But fate caught up with her one afternoon as rain pounded on the rooftop of the plant, adding another layer of noise to the already considerable cacophony. As she was coming out of the restroom, the whistle sounded signifying the end of the lunch break, and she ran straight into Les. Before she could think, he grabbed her by the elbow and hustled her into the office across from the restroom, closing the door behind them. The room was dark, and the blinds were drawn. Outside the window, she heard the parade of mostly female workers heading back to their stations.

In the dark, his eyes glittered. He set the clipboard down on a desk.

Now she was afraid.

“I keep trying to talk to you, but you keep avoiding me,” he said, approaching her.

With each step he took, Laura took a step back, trying to stay out of his reach. As he neared, there was a whiff of body odor emanating off of him, and in the faint light of the room and up this close, she could see a fine sheen of perspiration along his upper lip.

“I have to get back to work,” Laura said firmly, trying to control the tremor in her voice. Lenore had advised her not to show fear, but it was proving to be difficult in reality. “Mr. Treadwell will be mad.”

“I’ll put in a good word with the boss, don’t worry.” His eyes settled on her breasts, and she hated the way that made her feel. Minimized. Objectified. Without averting his gaze from her bosom, he said, his voice thick, “You know, Laura, you’re probably the prettiest girl in the plant here.”

This was one time she didn’t say “thank you” for the compliment.

Taking another step back, she hit the back wall of the small office. He closed the gap with two steps, lifted his arm, and placed his hand on the wall next to her.

“If you play nice,” he said, “I can make sure you get the cushy jobs. No more drilling rivets. Maybe you’d like one of the positions where you can sit down. No more standing all shift on your feet.” His voice dropped to a whisper as he leaned in. “Would you like that, Laura?” His breath smelled of onions.

“No, I’m fine where I’m at. I like my job.” Sure, she’d like a job where she had the chance to sit down, but she knew there’d be a high price to pay with Les.

Enough was enough.

“I have to go,” she said sharply. She placed her hands on his chest and pushed him away. But just as quickly, he grabbed her by the wrists and forced her back against the wall.

“You will play nice, Mrs. Knickerbocker.” He bent his head, his mouth against her ear. His breath was hot on her neck.

Laura’s breath became quick and shallow. She was afraid she might start to hyperventilate. “No. ”

He ignored her. “You must be lonely with your husband so far away for so long.” His body was so close to hers that you wouldn’t have been able to slide a sheet of paper between them.

Outside, she could hear all the machines. Her screams would get lost in the din.

She started to wriggle. “Get off of me.”

“I don’t think you mean that.” Les’s tone was low, barely above a whisper. Intimate.

He released one of her wrists and she tried to push him away, but he pressed against her. She was no match for his strength. As hard as she pushed, he didn’t budge. He placed his hand on her waist, sliding it up toward her breast and groping it.

A combination of panic, fear, and anger overtook her. This was not going to happen. No one touched her like that except Edwin. She’d heard other girls talking about “kneeing” a man, but she didn’t think she could do it. She lifted her leg slightly and with her work boot, kicked him in the shin.

“Ow!” He let go of her and hunched over and she kicked him again. Harder. He staggered back, giving her enough room to slip away from him and make a run for it.

She had just reached the door when she felt him behind her, grabbing the waistband of her coveralls. Her fingertips grazed the doorknob, but he pulled her back into the room. She brushed past the desk and reached out, her hand sliding along the top of it until it landed on the stapler. She grabbed it, and when he turned her around and tried to press her up against the desk, she raised her arm and brought the stapler down hard against his forehead, drawing blood, hitting him again and again until he finally staggered back, muttering expletives and holding his hand to his head. Blood gushed through his fingers.

Dropping the stapler, she ran out of the room, not looking back to see if he was following her. All she cared about was getting back to the main thoroughfare of the plant where there were plenty of people around.

She wanted to put some distance between herself and Les and the unused office, so she headed to the restroom on the other side of the plant. Toni was probably wondering what had happened to her, but there was no way she’d be able to drill in the rivets with shaky hands. She needed to pull herself together. The restroom was empty, and Laura collapsed against the tiled wall, leaning forward, hands on her knees, and drew in some deep breaths. Tears stung her eyes, but she refused to give in to them. Finally, when her breathing had returned to normal and the shaking stopped, she stood and went over to the sink to splash cold water on her face. She pulled off her kerchief and patted her face dry. As she refixed her scarf over her head, tucking in her hair, she noticed a splatter of blood across her neck and the top of her coveralls. Although her coveralls were dark, the splotches were large and unmistakable.

She heaved a sigh, splashed some water on her neck, and rubbed away the blood spatter.

Placing both hands on the edge of the porcelain sink, she stared at the floor. Lenore had told her she had two options.

It was time to pick one.

Summoning her inner Lenore, imagining her horror and hearing her voice urging her to do what needed to be done, Laura finally composed herself and walked out of the restroom .

With legs that felt like jelly, she walked toward the middle of the factory where the elevated platform with all the offices was located. She took hold of the rail and climbed the metal stairs, her boots clunking against the steps. Her body buzzed with anxiety, and bile rose in her throat, the taste of acid strong.

The management offices were at the top, three stories up, with windows all the way around overlooking the factory floor. As Laura climbed the three flights, the pit of dread in her stomach grew larger with each advancing step.

She’d been up here once before, at the start, to fill out paperwork. She spotted Mr. Treadwell through the glass window, his bald head bent over papers spread out on his desk.

The shaking started again, but she forced herself to knock on the door. The first knock was so weak he didn’t even hear it over the noise in the plant. Stilling her body, she rapped a second time, this time with more force. The foreman lifted his head and waved her in.

As she stepped into the office, she realized she hadn’t prepared what she was going to say, and there was a momentary sense of panic, a feeling that she should flee and go home and never return. Her hands were damp, and there was a fine sheen of perspiration beginning to form on her forehead, just below her headscarf.

She was not asked to sit down, so she stood in front of Mr. Treadwell’s desk. Out the windows was a bird’s-eye view of the plant. All those planes and the different departments. All that metal and grayness dotted with a variety of colorful headscarves.

“Mrs. Knickerbocker, what can I do for you?” he asked. He was always a pleasant man. Firm, but there was no nonsense from him. His open expression soon morphed into a frown, and he leaned forward, elbows on his desk. “Is that blood on your coveralls? Has there been an accident? Why are there no alarms going off?” He glanced out the window.

“No and yes,” Laura stammered. She squeezed her eyes shut. “I mean, yes, it’s blood, but there wasn’t an accident.”

With a sober expression, he asked, “Care to explain how you got blood on your coveralls?”

Still stammering, she said, “Yes. I will. Of course.”

Calm down and get it out.

Although Mr. Treadwell wasn’t smiling, there was a hint of kindness in his eyes. It was rumored he had four daughters and six granddaughters. She couldn’t look at him or she’d start crying. She fixed her gaze on the wall just behind him and forced herself to control the tremor in her voice.

“Les Stockton made an unwanted advance and touched me”—swallowing hard, she waved her hand in the general direction of her breast—“so I clocked him in the head with a stapler.”

“That’s a serious accusation to make against the assistant foreman,” Mr. Treadwell said gravely.

“I know. But it’s the truth,” she replied.

He leaned back in his chair, processing what she was telling him. “There’s never been a complaint against him.”

That was the problem .

“Maybe so,” she said, “but I’m afraid I’m going to have to quit because I can’t—can’t—work under these conditions.”

Before Mr. Treadwell could reply, there was a sharp knock on the door, which caused Laura to jump. In came Les Stockton holding a blood-soaked towel to his head.

Laura felt herself get lightheaded to the point she feared she might faint.

“George, do you want to see Mrs. Knickerbocker’s handiwork?” Les raged.

Mr. Treadwell put up his hand. “I can see quite enough from here. Mrs. Knickerbocker claims you made unwanted advances.”

Les snorted, still holding the towel to the wound on his forehead. “She’s lying. She’s unhappy with her job and wants a desk job, and when I said no can do, she hauled off and hit me with the stapler!”

Laura’s mouth fell open and her eyes widened at his blatant lie.

“I’ve never said anything about a desk job, Mr. Treadwell,” Laura said. “Mr. Stockton is always making inappropriate comments and looking at parts of my body he shouldn’t be looking at. I’m sick of it.”

“Did anyone else see what happened?” Mr. Treadwell demanded.

“No, he’s too slick for that.”

Mr. Treadwell coughed, cleared his throat, and looked over at Les for an explanation. Creepy Les leaned against the credenza behind him. “None of this is true, George. You know how hysterical these females get.”

To his credit, the foreman did not respond to Les’s comment.

Les straightened and spoke, his face reddening, spittle forming in the corner of his mouth. “George, you need to fire her! She’s a menace—”

Mr. Treadwell held up his hand to Les, who shut his mouth. “Hold on a minute, Les. Go to the hospital and get some stitches. Leave Mrs. Knickerbocker to me.”

Reluctantly, Les moved past Laura, exiting the office, but not before he leveled a glare at her.

Laura wanted to wrap this up and go home. “As I said, Mr. Treadwell, I think it’s best if I quit.”

“Don’t do anything hasty, Mrs. Knickerbocker. Go home, take tomorrow off, and report back to work the day after unless you hear from me.”

She stared at him, saying nothing.

“Understood?”

She nodded, eyes not blinking.

On unsteady feet, Laura left the office, made her way down the three flights of stairs, and walked in the direction of the locker room. She was thinking she should head to her plane and let Toni know she was leaving. But Toni intercepted her halfway.

“I’ve been looking all over for you, Laura. Where’ve you been?” Her eyebrows knitted together. “Is that blood?”

Laura gave Toni the abbreviated version of the story, telling her about the incident, the stapler, and then Les blaming the whole thing on her. Toni’s response fluctuated between disbelief, bewilderment, and downright rage.

Wearily, Laura told her, “Anyway, I’m going home. I’m to stay home tomorrow and come back the next day. If he doesn’t fire me.”

Toni gave her a reassuring smile and reached over and rubbed the top part of her arm. “You won’t be fired. I can almost guarantee that. ”

Laura’s smile was small. Even if she didn’t get fired, how could she continue to work in the same place as Creepy Les?

Toni was still speaking. “If you were going to be fired, he would have done it today.”

“You think so?” Uncertainty filled Laura. Would he drag her into work after a day off only to fire her? It didn’t make sense. But a lot of things didn’t.

“That Les is something else,” Toni muttered. “That no-good—”

“Forget about it, Toni,” Laura said wearily.

“No, I won’t. Wait until everyone finds out about this.”

“Look, I’m sorry to leave you in the lurch,” Laura said.

“Don’t worry about it, kiddo. See you when you come back.”