Jeanette Stainton didn’t like where she came from: A middle class, mining town in Scofield, outside of Newcastle in the United Kingdom. She resented her station in life. When she had found out about the opening at Scallyclare in the coal fields of South Africa, she had jumped at the chance to elevate her position further.
In Scofield in the UK, Mrs Thackray, one of the lower-ranking official’s wives, (Jeanette counted herself upper management) had got her back up. There had been a confrontation between the pair and it had been difficult to back down.
It was an issue of principle. Jeanette maintained that only the wives of upper management should be invited to functions on the mine, and not the wives of junior officials. The problem would have been averted if Mrs Thackray had done what she was told. Jeanette thought that being a lone voice among the senior officials’ wives had been a difficult burden.
She took pride in the fact that she had a reputation as a social climber.
“Victor, my love, this is not working out. Mrs Thackray is being difficult.”
He did not expect what was coming.
“That nobody, Mrs Thackray, is being decidedly hard to deal with. It’s time to cast our net a little wider. I thought that Scallyclare in South Africa would be a fine option.”
She could see that he was bewildered.
“It’s warm and sunny. I can work on my all-over tan.” She moved closer to Victor, winked flirtatiously and cuddled her generous, bosom against her husband.