A Perfect Christmas

Chapter NINETEEN


Outside the manager’s office he paused briefly, praying that Lucy was indeed inside and hadn’t left the premises. According to rumour she had a habit of coming and going as she pleased. He’d lifted his hand to rap on the door when suddenly realisation hit him and he withdrew his hand as if he’d been struck by lightning. He was about to come face to face with his daughter for the first time in more than fifteen years and this was definitely not going to be the reunion he had planned.

Taking a deep breath, he finally rapped purposefully on the door and, without waiting for a response, went inside.

Thinking that at last her tray of tea had arrived, Cait looked up from her magazine and was shocked to see a man dressed in a brown work coat walk in. She was in the middle of a gripping short story and resented being unceremoniously disturbed just when she had reached a poignant scene. She snapped at him, ‘How dare you come in here before I give you permission? What do you want?’ The significance of the tool box in the man’s hand then registered and she added, ‘You’ve come to fix the radiators? About time.’ By way of getting her own back on him for entering her office without leave, she childishly continued: ‘Now isn’t convenient. I’ll tell Miss Trucker to contact you when it is. And make sure you knock next time.’ With that she returned her attention to the magazine.

Glen’s eyes were fixed on the young woman’s face. So his and Julia’s beautiful baby girl had grown up into this very attractive young woman. She had Julia’s eyes, her bow-shaped mouth and the same colouring. Her pert nose she had inherited from his own mother. Glen couldn’t see anything of himself in her at that moment, but there had to be something. It was a pity her manner wasn’t as appealing as her outward appearance. He couldn’t help feeling, though, that he had encountered her somewhere before.

Aware the man was standing staring at her, Cait jerked up her head and snapped, ‘Are you deaf? I told you to go away and come back when it’s more convenient for me.’

Her rude retort snapped Glen out of his trance. ‘I really need to talk to you, Lucy.’

She scowled at him, bemused. ‘Lucy! Why are you calling me by that name? My name is Cait . . . Caitlyn . . . but it’s Miss Thomas to you and don’t you forget that. I could sack you for such insubordination. Whatever the problem is, speak to your foreman about it. Now, if you don’t leave as I asked, you will be looking for another job.’

Glen was furious that Nerys had taken it upon herself to change Lucy’s name. Julia and he had agonised over numerous choices for their beloved new baby, wanting to find the one they felt suited her perfectly. They’d felt happy that they had. Before he could stop himself, he retaliated. ‘If you carry on sacking people at the rate you are, then very soon you’ll have no staff left, young lady. Is that how you believe the boss of a company keeps the staff in line – by threatening them with the sack should they act in any way you don’t like?’

Cait was startled by his unexpected harangue and couldn’t help but defend herself. ‘My mother instilled in me the fact that familiarity breeds contempt. She owns this company and I’m running it the way I know she would, keeping the workforce in their place and earning their money.’ She jumped up from her chair then, eyes darkening thunderously, and wagged a warning finger at him. ‘What right do you think you have to come in here challenging me? If you don’t leave now, I’ll have you thrown bodily off the premises.’

Glen was busy thinking. So Jan was right again and his daughter’s abrasive, self-important attitude was all down to Nerys. What a good actress that woman was to have kept her true nature so well hidden from him. Sheer guilt for being blindly sucked in by her and allowing this state of affairs to happen flooded him. Without thinking he blurted, ‘I have every right to speak to you in any way I feel fit as I’m . . . I’m . . .’ Then his nerve completely failed him and he ended up saying instead, ‘I’ve come to help you as a friend, Miss Thomas. Believe me, you need a friend right now.’

She laughed mockingly. ‘I have enough friends of my own, thank you very much, so I certainly don’t need the likes of you . . .’ she flashed a derogatory look over him before adding ‘. . . an odd job man as one.’

He shook his head sadly. ‘I’m surprised you have any if you treat them the way you do the people who work for you.’

Cait’s eyes narrowed darkly at what she saw as his impertinence. Reaching over to the intercom on the desk beside her, she smacked her hand down hard on the button and yelled, ‘Miss Trucker, get in here now and bring some strong armed men with you. Miss Trucker, are you listening to me?’ Receiving no response and thinking, Where the hell is the woman when I need her? she shot out from behind the desk and went over to the door. She yanked it open and yelled down the corridor, ‘Miss Trucker, get in here now.’

Glen realised that strong action was called for if he was going to get his daughter to listen to him, and time wasn’t on his side. In a commanding tone he told her, ‘Shut the door, sit back down and listen to what I have to say to you. It’s in your own best interest.’

Cait spun round and stared at him, speechless. She made to retaliate in her usual manner but was stopped by her instincts screaming at her that this man was putting his job at risk in order to get her to listen to what he had to tell her, so whatever it was it must be important. She really ought to hear him out. As she silently made her way back into the office to retake her seat behind the desk, it struck her that she should feel extremely wary of being alone in here with a man she did not know, but strangely she didn’t. Fixing his eyes with hers, she snapped, ‘Well, what’s so important then?’

He sat down on the chair in front of the desk, putting his tool box to one side of him. Fixing her with his eye, he told her, ‘This is not the Dark Ages, Lu— Miss Thomas. It’s nineteen fifty-five. Unions fought for the rights of workers to be treated fairly.’

She shrugged her shoulders. ‘What’s that got to do with me?’

‘You aren’t treating your workforce at all fairly. Of course, you never should have been put in charge of the company, even if it’s only until your . . .’ he had difficulty saying the next word but he forced himself to ‘. . . mother returns from holiday. Sixteen should never have been considered—’

‘I’m eighteen,’ she sharply corrected him. ‘Well, I will be in a few days’ time.’

Glen looked at her for a moment before saying, ‘No, you’re sixteen, seventeen at the end of January. I should know as I am your—’

She cut in, ‘I know when my own birthday is. I have a certificate to prove it. I’m eighteen on the twenty-eighth of December. I don’t know why you should think I’m only sixteen and my birthday is at the end of January.’

The breath left his body and he was staring at her blindly as the significance of what she had just told him registered. This young woman wasn’t his daughter after all. He felt as if someone had punched him hard in the stomach. But that meant that all the time Nerys was with him, she must have been hiding the existence of her own daughter. Why would she do that? He had a child when they had met, so why would he have had any objection to her having one? But this posed the question of just where his own daughter was. He realised that Cait was waiting for an answer and said awkwardly, ‘Oh, I . . . er . . . I must have overheard someone talking and thought it was about you.’ Then a thought struck him. ‘They must have been talking about your sister.’ There was a hopeful note in his voice.

‘I haven’t got a sister. I’m an only child.’

Again he stared at her, frozen, his thoughts desperate. The only other answer was that Nerys must have had his daughter adopted. Her promise to him to look after her while he was serving the sentence he hadn’t deserved had been just another of her lies. It had been bad enough thinking for all these years that his beloved child was being raised by the woman who was capable of doing what she had, but complete strangers . . . More importantly, the only way he was going to find out what Nerys had done with Lucy was to tackle her himself. But what if she wouldn’t tell him? His anger was running high, not at the young woman before him but at her mother for making his life a misery still after all these years. He couldn’t help but bang his fist on the table and say harshly, ‘You are far too young and inexperienced, even at eighteen, to be expected to run a company. Your mother must have been out of her mind to think you were up to keeping this place going until she returned from her trip.’

He stabbed a finger at the pile of magazines on the desk in front of her. ‘Is this how you think a boss runs a company, reading magazines while his staff do all the work and you just pocket the profits? What have you inside your head, young lady, cotton wool? As the head of this business it’s your responsibility to keep the work coming in and deal with all the problems that arise. And, most important, do all you can to make sure your workforce is happy. And you don’t achieve that by willy-nilly putting controversial rules in place without union agreement first, or by passing all your work on to others who are neither skilled enough nor paid to do it and who already have enough on their plates doing their own jobs. As for sacking those who happen to look at you in the wrong way . . . You might believe the myth that bosses sit on their backsides all day long with their feet up on the desk, taking the occasional tour around just to remind the workforce that a beady eye is being kept on them, but a myth is all it is.

‘A boss should work harder than any of his workforce, roll his shirt sleeves up when the going gets tough and do all he can to ensure he has work for them every day. That’s how he gains their respect and loyalty. Now listen to me, young lady, the workforce have had enough of your behaviour and aren’t going to take any more of it. You risk ruining the company and losing them their jobs. The final straw was the fact that you never showed your face at the funeral yesterday.’

‘I can’t see what difference that made. I didn’t know Reg Swinton,’ she told him defensively.

He gazed at her incredulously. ‘Reg Swinton had worked for your mother for many years and done a splendid job of running her company. You should have dropped everything to show your respects to him. The staff who attended were extremely embarrassed by there not being any appearance by the owner’s representative. I can’t imagine how let down Mrs Swinton felt. A union meeting was called this morning and a vote was held on what action should be taken to put a stop to your nonsense.’

Cait gasped. ‘That wasn’t a fire drill going on in the yard but a union meeting!’

He eyed her, stunned. ‘You didn’t take the trouble to go and investigate, to make sure just why all your employees had downed tools? You just assumed you knew. A proper boss would know everything that’s going on in his factory before it happens. You have such a lot to learn if you ever want to manage a business successfully, Miss Thomas. Anyway, the union representative and shop stewards will be paying you a visit very shortly to deliver you their ultimatum: either you step aside and someone more qualified is put in your place until Mrs Thomas returns or the workers are downing tools until you do agree to their terms. If the strike goes ahead, the repercussions for the company could be irreversible and there’s more than a probability that your mother will return from her trip to find she has no company any longer. Now you were the cause of this present situation and only you can put a stop to it before it’s too late.’

Cait was far too shocked by what had been said to offer any response. She sat staring blindly at the man before her, trying to digest it all.

But getting no reaction from her whatsoever, Glen took it to mean that his words to her had fallen on deaf ears. His effort to make her see the error of her ways and put matters right was just a waste of his time. Grabbing up his tool box, he stood up and walked out, pulling the door shut behind him.

As she heard it shut, a rush of sheer panic filled Cait. Emotions were raging through her: humiliation, shame, hurt, anger, but none of them was as acute as the fear filling every fibre of her being at the thought that her mother could return to find Cait’s irresponsible actions had resulted in the ruin of her company. Her ambition to show her mother she was a daughter to be proud of would not come about if she didn’t heed that man’s words.

Jumping up from the chair, she bolted to the door and ran out into the corridor.

Glen, feeling utterly helpless and deeply saddened that he had failed in his attempt to make Nerys’s daughter see reason, was about to descend the stairs when he heard a shout.

‘Mister . . . Mister . . .’

He turned his head to see a frantic Caitlyn Thomas beckoning him back. He stared at her. Did this mean she had after all taken on board what he’d said to her and was prepared to try and put a stop to the strike? Full of hope, he hurriedly retraced his steps.

She had disappeared back into the office by the time he got there. He followed her inside and looked at her expectantly. She was standing by the desk, wringing her hands. ‘Mister . . . Oh, please, my mother can’t come back and find I’ve been responsible for ruining her business. You must help me stop that happening. I’ll make it worth your while. Twenty pounds . . . thirty . . . whatever you decide. But you must help me.’

Glen was appalled that she felt she needed to bribe him to help her but, conscious that the delegation would be descending on them any minute, he asked, ‘You’re prepared to agree to the union’s demands then?’

She nodded her head vigorously. ‘Yes, you go and tell them that.’

Glen shook his head. ‘That’s for you to do, not me, Miss Thomas.’

Cait looked horrified at the thought but they had no time to debate the issue as there was a loud knock on the door. They both looked across at it. Glen then glanced at Cait’s fear-stricken face and said, ‘It’s up to you now. Just remember, though, that the men need to feel you’re sincere in what you say, so no high-handed attitude.’

She gulped as she turned back to face the door, hesitating for a moment before she called out, ‘Come in.’

She immediately felt intimidated by the four middle-aged men who entered the room to stand just inside the door, eyes fixed on her. She dearly hoped they could not see that she was shaking.

Harry Owens was among the delegation and noticed Glen who had moved to stand over by the window. He looked surprised. ‘What are you doing up here, man? You’re not working, I hope, in light of what’s going on?’

All four men were looking at him suspiciously. He thought it best not to divulge the true reason he was up here as they could see that as interfering with union business. He lied, ‘I was up here having a look at the radiators and left my tool box behind to attend the meeting. I was just collecting it.’

They all seemed happy with that explanation and it was the union representative, Alf Bisson, who told him in an authoritative tone, ‘Well, you can leave now as we’ve private union business to discuss with Miss Thomas.’

Cait inwardly froze. They were telling that man to go . . . she didn’t even know his name yet she felt he was the only ally she had. She didn’t feel she could do whatever she had to without knowing he was nearby, lending her strength. ‘Whatever is said in this office will be common knowledge when you go and report it back to the rest of the workforce so it’s of no consequence if he stays,’ she announced, inwardly quaking. Then, desperate to get this over with before she lost her nerve, and reminding herself of Glen’s words of advice to be careful of how she addressed the men, she took a deep breath and in a pleasant and sincere tone said, ‘I’m . . . I’m sorry . . . very sorry for the way I’ve been acting. I admit I wasn’t thinking straight to believe I had what it takes to run this company. I was just trying to help my mother out while she’s away, that’s all. I’m sure you can all appreciate that.’

She paused for a moment to draw breath before she continued. ‘All the new rules I’ve put in place, well, you can forget them. And the men I sacked are reinstated. I’ll do my best to find someone else to run this place as a matter of urgency, so if you’d just bear with me until then . . .’

The men all looked astonished, her apology and her behaviour the last things they’d been expecting.

Alf Bisson, a militant at heart, was not as happy as the other three that a strike had been averted. In all the years he had been union rep for this company, he’d only had what he perceived as petty problems to deal with and had been looking forward at long last to showing the workers that he was more than a match for the hierarchy. He was annoyed that this young woman had thwarted him. Another chance like this to show his mettle might never come his way again, considering that this company in all its history had never had a strike. Reluctantly he said, ‘Well . . . er . . . right you are then, Miss Thomas. We’ll take this back to the staff and get their vote on it.’

As soon as they had departed, Cait let out a huge sigh of relief and said to Glen, ‘Did I do all right?’

He smiled at her. ‘More than all right, Miss Thomas. You should give yourself a pat on the back. That couldn’t have been easy for you.’

‘No, it wasn’t, but at least now my mother isn’t going to return from holiday and find her business in ruins. How much do I owe you?’

He frowned. ‘Owe me?’

‘For helping me?’

‘But I don’t need paying. I was only too glad you did let me help you or I dread to think what the consequences might have been.’

She looked most surprised. ‘Oh! If ever I’ve got anyone to do anything for me before, I’ve always had to make sure it was worth it to them.’ Then she remembered all the things he had said to her so bluntly and her bottom lip began to tremble, tears to prick her eyes. ‘You said some horrible things to me.’

She was obviously very upset by his remarks, but if she was expecting him to apologise for what he had said to her then she would wait a long time. ‘What I told you were some home truths, Miss Thomas. I couldn’t see any other way to get you to take notice than to be brutally honest. And a bit more advice . . . If you carry on the way you are, turning people away from you with your manner towards them, then you’re going to end up a lonely old woman. Unless, of course, that’s what you want for yourself, so you purposely treat people with disdain, to stop them getting close to you for some reason?’

Cait was stupefied. No, she certainly didn’t want to end up alone. But she was only taking her lead from her mother and she wasn’t a lonely old woman. She frowned, confused. Something struck her. The man had just said that by acting the way she was towards people, she was in fact pushing them away. She hadn’t realised that; had always assumed she should speak to people like that because her mother did. But was it just her mother’s way of informing other people not to try and get close to her? Her life was complete the way it was and she didn’t need anyone else in it? Now Cait thought about it like this, it made sense as her mother never made any effort whatsoever to make friends or even acquaintances.

A vision of her parents rose before her then. They would sit side by side on the sofa, chatting and laughing together at their own private jokes, not sharing them with her, seemingly oblivious to the fact that she was sitting in an armchair nearby. They lived in their own little world that no one else, except under exceptional circumstances, was allowed into. And that was the way they liked it. In the light of this realisation, Cait now knew that all her efforts to regain her mother’s affection and be allowed into their inner circle had been a total waste of time. There were two people only in that circle and no room for any more, not even her, no matter what she did. Maybe her parents had not planned to have her in the first place, she’d just been a mistake, and the mementoes in that box in the safe were not hers at all but her mother’s from when she was a baby.

And then a really awful thought struck her. Having seen the way her mother was with her father, and not having any other couples in her life to judge by, she had assumed that that was the way all women should behave to their men. So when she’d been asked out by a boy she liked the look of, she had always emulated her mother’s behaviour in every way. But suddenly she realised that just because her father was content to have a woman who devoted herself to him, did not mean to say that every man did. It was obvious to her now that Neil hadn’t.

A wave of great sadness overcame her then. Why couldn’t she have had parents who at least took the time to offer her some guidance in life, instead of leaving her to her own devices? Then maybe she wouldn’t be in such an awful mess now. And suddenly she didn’t care about putting the money she’d taken back into the safe, as what did it matter if her mother discovered she’d been snooping? What would she do to Cait? Throw her out, that’s what. Well, she’d already done that. And it wasn’t as if she would miss her parents’ loving arms around her and their support because you never missed what you’d never had, did you?

She didn’t realise that she was crying until Glen asked her, ‘Are you all right, Miss Thomas?’

Cait shook her head, tears rolling down her cheeks. ‘Not really,’ she uttered. ‘This is all so awful. I feel so . . . so . . .’ The floodgates opened then. Sobbing, she told him, ‘I lied to you. I haven’t got lots of friends. I haven’t got any. I don’t want to end up a lonely old woman. I want people to like me and want to be my friends but I don’t know what to do about it.’ She raised her head then and looked at him imploringly. ‘Help me, will you? Tell me what to do to make people like me.’

His heart went out to her then and he dearly wanted to go to her and put his arms around her, give her a comforting hug. But that wouldn’t be the right thing for him to do. She was, after all, the daughter of the owner of the business and he a mere worker. He felt very uncomfortable with this situation. It was one thing, putting a young woman right on her mishandling of the business, but quite another dealing with a distraught one who needed advice on how to change herself into a better person. Women were better at this sort of thing anyway. He vehemently wished Jan were here now as she’d know how to handle this. But she wasn’t and he couldn’t leave the distraught girl without offering her some sort of help.

Glen said, ‘It’s not easy changing the habits of a lifetime, but if you really want to then the best advice I can offer you is to remember always to treat people in the way you would wish to be treated yourself. Then you won’t go far wrong. Another thing is to take just a second or two to think before you speak, so that to the best of your knowledge what you are going to say isn’t going to offend or hurt someone, and also the manner in which you say it.’

Cait seemed to digest his words of wisdom for a moment before she flashed him a wan smile. ‘I’ll remember, I will.’ She could see a battle before her, though, constantly having to watch everything she said and did in order to become the better person she wanted to be. And how was she going to convince all those who knew the old Caitlyn and gave her a wide berth unless they had no choice that she wasn’t that selfish person any longer, and make them give her a chance to prove it to them? And how on earth was she going to look her parents in the eye now that she had had her eyes opened to the fact that they had no love for her, only for themselves?

She suddenly felt a desperate need to return home, pack her things and go somewhere far away, another town where no one knew her and where she could make a fresh start. She could take the rest of the money from the safe to set herself up with a home and she felt sure she wouldn’t have much trouble getting another job. But then to turn her back on the business, leaving the staff struggling to keep it going without any guidance, would not be trying to make herself a better person, would it?

She gave her wet eyes a wipe with the back of her hand, sniffed and then looked at Glen for several moments. It didn’t feel like it at the moment, considering what she was facing, but in the future she knew she would owe this man a debt of gratitude for the risk he had taken today in coming to tackle her. She looked at him quizzically for a moment as several things about him didn’t seem to sit right. ‘I can’t understand why someone like you is just working as an odd job man,’ she queried.

‘It’s as good a job as any.’

She eyed him searchingly. ‘You look and dress like an odd job man would . . . but . . . well . . . I can’t put my finger on it, but I can only say you seem to know more about the running of a business, and certainly how to handle the union men, than I’d have thought an odd job man would. You certainly dealt with this situation as if you’ve handled similar ones before. You speak well so I know you’ve come from a good background. I might only be young and inexperienced in the ways of business but I haven’t got so much cotton wool in my brain . . .’ she flashed a quick smile at him when she said that, to let him know she was making light of what he’d accused her of earlier ‘. . . that I don’t know when I’m in the company of someone who is better than they’re making out they are. How did someone like you end up being an odd job man? And what is your name, by the way?’

Glen stared at her blankly. He couldn’t bring himself to tell her the whole truth as that would run the risk of breaking a young girl’s heart by informing her that the kind loving person she doubtless considered her mother to be was in fact a con artist, and the lifestyle she herself was living was all based on the proceeds of trickery. It wasn’t fair that he lie to her either. He’d been very fortunate up to now that the people he had come across in the company either weren’t aware of its history or, if they were, hadn’t considered that the Glen Trainer who used to own the company and himself were the same man. He dearly hoped this situation would remain the same until he was ready to leave. He doubted Nerys would have told her daughter the truth of how she’d come to own Rose’s so felt he was on safe ground telling Caitlyn his name and the diluted version of how he came to be working here.

He walked across to the window, turned his back to it, then began speaking. ‘My name is Glen . . . Glen Trainer.’ He paused for a moment with bated breath to see whether the name meant anything to her, and inwardly sighed with relief when she made no comment. He continued, ‘I’ve not always been an odd job man. I used to run a company once, a business similar to this in fact . . .’

He was stopped in his tracks by a thud on the door, the sound made by the toe of a shoe hitting it.

Cait looked over at it for a moment before she called out, ‘Come in.’ It seemed she had temporarily forgotten her new resolve. Her tone was curt.

There were fumbling sounds from the other side of the door and Glen realised whoever it was was having trouble turning the door knob. He went over, turned the knob, and opened the door to find a woman outside, attempting to balance a laden tray which she was struggling to keep steady with one hand while the other was trying to open the door. She had her head bowed, a white net cap pulled down right over her forehead to cover her eyebrows, as if she was trying to hide her face. Of course he knew it was Jan.

‘Why are you . . .’ he started to say.

Righting herself, the tray now held in both hands, her head came up and with her eyes she silenced him. Then she bowed her head again and he stood back, watching in bemusement, as she hurried with the tray over to the desk, set it down and mumbled, ‘Your tea, Miss Thomas. Sorry for the delay.’ She hurried back towards the door. Just as she passed by Glen, she lifted her head and shot him a look that told him not to talk to her and also that she was desperate to know what was going on, then she was off down the corridor.

Cait said to Glen, ‘You were telling me?’

‘Pardon? Oh, yes. The fact is that the owner died and the son sold up. The new owner decided he didn’t want a manager running the place as he was going to head it up himself. I felt I’d had enough of the responsibility of that kind of job anyway and got myself something back on a production line. It was a huge drop in salary but I was happy to be sleeping well at night. I was ready for a change when I saw the maintenance man’s job advertised and thought I’d apply and . . . well, here I am.’

Noises from outside in the yard made him glance out of the window. ‘Seems people are returning to work.’ He turned back and walked over to his tool box. He picked it up and said to Cait, ‘Well, I’d better get back to it myself.’

She looked aghast. ‘But you can’t leave me. I mean, I don’t know how to go about finding a replacement manager like I promised the union men I would.’

‘Miss Trucker will help you with that. From the dealings I’ve had with her, she seems like a very capable woman.’

Cait sighed. And she herself hadn’t treated her very civilly. More apologies were necessary it seemed.

Glen appeared to read her mind. ‘She doesn’t come across to me as a woman who bears grudges. You’ll be fine.’

Another thought struck Cait then. ‘Oh, but wait a minute. We don’t need to look for a temporary manager to run this place. You’ve run a business. You’re qualified. You could do it, couldn’t you?’ Then she wouldn’t need to hang around here and could get on with starting her new life.

Glen hoped he wasn’t showing the horror he felt at her suggestion. The job he could do easily. The company still seemed to be running along the same lines as it had when he had owned the place, maybe a few administrative changes but it wouldn’t take him long to get to grips with those, but there were reasons why he couldn’t, wouldn’t, accept her offer, the main one being that if he were ever to head up this company again it would not be as a manager but because he owned it. And that he never would as it was highly unlikely Nerys would have her conscience pricked after all this time and hand it back to him. But the main reason was that she could come back at any moment and, if she found him running the place, all hell would break loose.

He smiled at Cait and told her, ‘Thanks for the offer, Miss Thomas, but I like the job I’m doing. I wouldn’t fancy all the responsibility of managing again. I really must get back now in case any machines have broken down. Wouldn’t do for me to be responsible for holding up production.’

Cait sat staring at the closed door for several moments after Glen had shut it behind him. She felt physically and emotionally drained and wished more than anything that she could climb into bed, pull the covers around her and sleep for eternity. But she had meant what she’d said. She no longer wanted to be the person her parents had made her into, and if she was serious about making herself into a better person she had better make a start. She knew it wasn’t going to be easy for her, Glen Trainer had told her that, but she was determined she was going to change the habits of a lifetime.

She thought of Glen again. She had read somewhere that people could sometimes appear in your life for a very short space of time, then leave just as quickly, but the impact of their visit could be significant. She knew she would be forever grateful to him for taking the risk of coming to talk to her, indebted to him in fact – but it was a debt she doubted she’d ever be able to repay.

Cait sat upright in her chair and took several deep breaths. Time to make a start. After first rehearsing what she was going to say and how, as Glen had advised her to do, she reached over to press the intercom buzzer and said politely into it, ‘Miss Trucker, when you’re free, would you please come into my office? I would like to ask your advice.’

She could only imagine the look of utter astonishment on Miss Trucker’s face at having received such a civil message. But she imagined it correctly. It took the secretary several moments to accept that it had indeed been Caitlyn Thomas whose polite tones she had heard over the intercom and not someone playing a joke on her.