Entrance barred – A Short story

Arnold Frobisher closed the middle drawer of his desk and locked it. Then placing the key carefully into a cut-glass inkwell he rose and bade his secretary goodnight.
“That`s it for the day Miss Prendaghast,” he called. “I`ll see you in the morning.”

As soon as the office door had closed, Prudence sprang into action. She had endured her position as secretary for almost three years now, a formidable task, and during that time had never been able to penetrate his frozen personality.  Balding, 50-year-old Frobisher had used the “middle-drawer” routine for as long as she could remember. Now her curiosity had finally come to the boil, whatever lay in that drawer fascinated Frobisher more than a little. He would slide it open an inch or two during dictation, then gaze at whatever there was there with a languid far-away look. Once he even stopped midway during a particularly difficult letter and completely lost the thread. A formidable man for anyone to work for, and Prudence had even attempted to obtain a transfer into the typing pool at a lower salary. All to no avail. Frobisher wouldn`t hear of it, and the matter was dropped like a hot potato. Now was the moment of truth. Lifting the key from its glass receptacle, she inserted it into the lock and turned it. For a second, she held her breath, then, throwing caution to the wind, eased the drawer open.

To her surprise it was completely empty save for a single leather framed photograph. Her first thoughts were that of Frobisher’s old aunt, or a distant relative perhaps?
A look of absolute horror showed on Prudence`s face as she realised that she was staring at a photograph of a completely nude and very voluptuous young woman.
Far from what she had expected, she was about to close the drawer when she saw that something had been written across the lower left-hand corner. Leaning closer, Prudence read aloud the inscription: “Love you lots, Lulu”

Her heart gave a jolt. “Lulu?” she thought, knowing that Mr Frobisher was a confirmed bachelor, “Who in the name of glory is Lulu?” Closing the drawer, she replaced the key, making sure that it was in exactly the same position, and hurried to the outer office. Here she pulled on her overshoes, for it was raining outside. Picking up her handbag and umbrella from the hallstand, she headed for the bus stop some 200-odd metres from the office complex.

Without word of warning, a deep-maroon Mercedes Benz slowed at her side. The dark shadow of the vehicle caught Prudence unawares, she turned in alarm almost letting fly at the driver when she found herself staring into the bespectacled face of Mr Frobisher. “May I offer you a lift Miss Prendaghast?” Prudence hesitated. At 30, it was unusual for a woman to remember the words of wisdom spelt out by her doting mother: “Never accept lifts from a stranger.”

Mr Frobisher was her respected boss, nevertheless, he was a stranger, and the only intimate facts that she had gleaned regarding his personality was that he liked apples and wore vests with sleeves in winter. “Er…” she gasped. “Hop in girl, you`ll get soaked to the skin.” Lifting the door latch, Prudence slid into the sumptuous interior next to Frobisher. “Thanks, this is really something of a car.” Frobisher slipped the gear lever into drive and floored the accelerator.

“Where would you like to go Miss Prendaghast, I believe you live near Woking?” It was raining harder now, and the windscreen was bespattered with rain, unable to cope with the downpour. “Yes, Paradise Place… it`s a… a… council estate.” Frobisher seemed confused. “Do I turn right here, or do I…” Prudence saw the traffic light ahead and a large truck bearing down on them to the left. The lights were on amber now and Frobisher was travelling at an impossible speed. “Look out sir,” she cried. “ I think…”

“You think what girl?” Prudence looked around, the road was clear enough now, in fact there wasn`t a vehicle in sight. “I think the rain has cleared up Mr Frobisher, what happened to your car?” “Car?” Frobisher looked at his feet then up at the road which suddenly seemed to be bathed in brilliant sunshine. “Didn’t we leave it at that intersection?”
Prudence was bewildered. The sky above had never been so bright, and the road seemed to be paved with yellow cobblestones. Her feet seemed to glide forward with effortless strides. Stopping, she searched her handbag for the pair of sunglasses she always carried, then placed them precariously onto her nose. “Are you sure this is the way to Paradise Place, I don`t recall…”

Frobisher began to sweat. “Of course it is Miss Prendaghast, I have a very good sense of direction, you`ll see, just over this next hill.” Prudence couldn`t believe her ears. “Hill?” she exclaimed loudly, “This place is as flat as a pancake, there aren`t any hills for miles around.” Frobisher came to a halt. Completely out of breath, he could hardly manage to talk, “I don`t know about you, but that last one nearly got me beat, oh dear, and there`s another one up ahead.”

“No, there isn`t, it`s downhill silly, look, I can fly down without any effort at all.”  “Well you go on ahead girl, and I`ll catch you up in just a moment.” Prundence removed her sunglasses and stared at the horizon, “What is that up ahead? It looks like a huge stone building, and just look at that gate!” Another two strides and they were there. Frobisher hammered on the glass window of what appeared to be the ticket office. “Hey! You in there. Yes, you with that monstrosity of a beard, can we have a little service here?”

Prudence blushed, “Mr Frobisher, the old gentleman is doing his best, don`t confuse him any more than he is confused already, or we`ll never get to Paradise Place.”
The window of the ticket office flew open, and the old man with the beard smiled a welcome. “I recognise you my dear, Prudence isn`t it, due in last Tuesday, motor accident… right?” Prudence blinked. “Right.” Frobisher banged on the glass pane again, “What about me dammit, don`t I get recognition?”

“Name?”
“Frobisher, son of General Frobisher, First Brigade of Hussars Eastwick.”
“Eastwick?”
“Yes, blast it, Eastwick. The family mansion has stood there for centuries.”
“You don`t appear to be living there now sir. I have your address as 13A Doggetts Way?”
“That`s just my London address, look here, who are you anyway?”

The man with the flowing white beard removed his spectacles and wiped them carefully. “I may have made a mistake, it`s not uncommon y`know in this line of business. Ah… mmm… my name is Peter… er… Saint Peter to use my correct title, and I`m in reception.”

“Reception, what nonsense is this, where the blazes am I?” Prudence stared through the ornate bars of the golden gate. Way beyond them was an abundance of white clouds and the sound of sweet music drifted on the air. There was no doubt at all where they were, no doubt whatsoever. “Mr Frobisher, I think these must be… the golden gates of Heaven.”
Frobisher`s eyebrows shot upwards. “Nonsense girl, Heaven is some fabled place in the sky, seems to me you need tickets to get into this arena.”

“Really Mr Frobisher, if you look through the bars of this beautiful gate, there`s white clouds drifting everywhere and listen to that music.”
“Music!” snarled Frobisher. “That sounds like some dreadful dirge to me, like… well like someone has just passed on.”
Saint Peter rubbed his white beard and a smile lit his face. “I can let the lady through sir, but I`m afraid there has been a mix up regarding your credentials sir.”
“Mix up?” spat Frobisher. “Tell you what, there`ll be more than a mix up when I get through to the authorities about this. Listen old man, I demand to be let through, it`s my right as a citizen.”

An enormous golden key appeared out of nowhere and Saint Peter thrust it into the lock of the gate which swung open just far enough for Prudence to pass through.
“There we are my dear, with luck you will be able to hop aboard the next white cloud and from there on the good Lord will look after you.”
Prudence stepped through the gap and the gate clanged shut almost before she was able to turn and say goodbye to Mr Frobisher.
“I do hope you`ll be all right sir, I`m sure Saint Peter here will be able to make you the usual coffee in the morning and tea in the afternoon.”

A nasty, sinking feeling washed over Frobisher. “You can`t leave me here Miss Prendaghast, get back here immediately. I demand you get back this side of the gate.”
Prudence waved her hand as she was whisked up and away far above the golden gate. “Sorry Mr Frobisher, there don`t seem to be any brakes on this cloud.”
Saint Peter gently took Frobisher`s arm and eased him to one side. “I`m afraid you`ll have to go back sir, you have two problems to atone for, they shouldn`t take you long.”
“Two problems?” snapped Frobisher. “What kind of problems may I ask?”

Peter wiped a tear from his eye. It was always sad when a soul didn`t quite make the entrance exam. “The little matter of Lulu, remember her?”
Frobisher was shocked. “Lulu?” he said, in a small piping voice. “Lulu from the massage parlour?”
Saint Peter nodded and rubbed his chin. “Oh yes, we know all about Lulu.” “And the other problem that stands against me?”

Saint Peter raised his hand towards Heaven and like magic, the dark cloud that had gathered on the horizon shone with an unbelievable brilliance. “Dear friend,” he said, placing his arm around Frobisher’s shoulders. “You are 52 years of age, you have attended your church regularly since you were three, you have gone to bible study every week since you were confirmed and yet you haven`t yet learnt the one lesson that the Good Book is attempting to tell us!”

“Impossible!” cried Frobisher. Saint Peter shook his head. “Ah no sir, alas there are millions like you that just don`t make the grade.”
“Millions?”
“Maybe billions, you see, the one thing you need to bring into your life is called compassion.”
The sound of smashing glass woke Frobisher with a start. A metal baton was smashing the windscreen of his car, and he was lying upside down in the wreckage.
“Hey, stop that.” he snarled. “This is a Mercedes Benz, can`t you see the badge…?”
The man in uniform stopped. “Sorry sir, but I have to get you out in case the whole lot goes up.”
“Goes up… goes up?” he exploded. “Where the hell am I and where is Miss Prendaghast?”
The man in uniform shook his head sadly. “Oh sorry sir, I`m afraid the lady didn`t make it.”