June 07, 2020
Review, Edit and Update
Risky Business shows Digby at home, private even at home. It also shows the responsibilities at the Beaufort Estate.
I cleaned up punctuation, typos, word placement and some sentence structure. The only addition was a page break.
Risky Business
Digby had been able to work from his home, a modest bungalow in a little cul-de-sac just outside of the Beaufort Estate grounds. If he had not brought the needed files with him when he removed himself from the Beaufort mansion, he would not have been able to do very much at all. He did not inform Mrs. Beaufort on that day. She was still asleep. Digby was not willing to waken her and deal with a potential temper tantrum, begging them, tearfully, to stay. He really was quite satisfied to be able to work from home for this hopefully short time. He kept the bills paid and the payroll up to date. There were fewer bills in this time of Covid19, but bills still had to be paid. The household credit card had not been in use since the middle of March when Mrs. Beaufort and her sister purchased groceries for him. She had offered to pay for them, but he insisted. ‘I do appreciate your offer, Mrs. Beaufort however, I do like to keep my personal accounts up to date.’ Emelina had known Digby for a long time, well aware of such a strict code. She knew that he expected her offer and that he would decline. It was a little polite expectation between employer and employee.
A healthy monthly deposit from the Estate funds was very fortunate when so many others were struggling just to make ends meet in this dreadful time. These were funds that Mr. Beaufort, Jr. had left to Mrs. Beaufort in his will. Besides keeping the bills paid, he was able to maintain the payroll for the employees. Any seasonal workers or casual employees had not been called in so those parts of the payroll were not necessary. Accruing overtime hours by employees also has not happened so was not an expense.
Each morning Digby got up early and got ready for work as he always had. Keeping his hair tidy was becoming a problem. However, he managed to trim the shagginess away. He did think that, if he had been a considerably younger man, he would have shaved his head bald just to keep it tidy. Even the thought of what he might look like brought a smile to his eyes with a hint of an upturn at the corners of his mouth. Digby dressed casually each morning. His favourite plaid shirt with the button down collar, his pressed khaki slacks and his leather house sandals were comfortable home alternatives to his butler uniform and highly polished Brogues.
After dressing, the next order of business in Digby’s morning was a simple breakfast. One slice of buttered toast, a boiled egg ~ soft but not runny ~, a half an orange and two cups of tea. Coffee was reserved for later in the day. While eating his breakfast, he listened to the news and any virus updates on CBC. Following breakfast, he washed, dried and put away his dishes. After a short stroll in his backyard to check on the state of his bird feeders and get a bit of fresh air, he went into his home office to work. This order was followed meticulously. Digby had always believed that routine was an excellent way to manage one’s way through good times and bad. It had been a little difficult to keep that up when the days started to become long, however his years of discipline had stood him in good stead.
While in the garden, checking on his roses he thought of Martha. He was going to be calling her on video chat in the early evening to discuss the graduated return to work they were planning. She should be doing her inspection of the Mansion soon and would have a report for him when he spoke with her. Aloud he said: "I wonder if she dances". Looking sharply up to see if anyone was around, he turned abruptly and disappeared into the house.
~~~~~
Digby turned his desk lamp on and settled in his desk chair. Any files remaining at the Estate were locked securely in the safe in his office bedroom. He had a second much smaller safe at home. It was there that he kept the Beaufort files. Pushing the keys to release the combination lock, he removed them, placing them on his desk. The payroll would be sent out today. Because no casual or temporary staff had been utilized since this distancing and isolating shut down had occurred, those being paid would be the regular full-time and part-time staff only. Satisfied that this would ease the budget, he began the work of sending out the payroll. When he started with Beaufort’s many years prior, cheques were made out and Mr. Michael signed them. Later on, it became legal to have a stamped signature. Then it was direct deposit to individual bank accounts, which did simplify things. Writing out cheques and finding Mr. Michael was very time consuming. Digby did have it very organized, but still, setting up the direct deposit was much better. Payroll finished, all bills were up to date, Digby put them all back into his little safe.
He didn’t even have to get out of his chair. He wheeled himself across the two feet to the cupboard that the safe was stored in. Wheels are a wondrous invention. He rolled back again, then forward, then, with his hands firmly on the arms of the chair did a half turn one way and then the other. Digby glanced out the window facing the front yard. There was no one there. He spun all the way around, put his hands flat on his desk and stood up. Behave yourself, man. You grew up a long time ago. Before he left the room, he reached back to give his desk chair a final spin, straightened up to walk down the hall toward the kitchen. Instead of going into the kitchen, he turned left into the front hall. Knowing it was still quite cool out, he put on his brown wool serge jacket, set his Ivy League flat cap on his head and readied himself for a brief walk. Before going out the door, he checked his footwear. His brown socks almost matched his brown sandals. Ordinarily Digby would have changed into outdoor shoes, but he was feeling particularly risky for some reason. He glanced in the hall mirror, adjusted his cap to a slightly rakish angle and, whistling a Bing Crosby tune, stepped out of his front door.
“Fortune sides with him who dares.”
~ Virgil
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