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Authors: Lynda Page

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BOOK: A Perfect Christmas
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‘Oh, there you are, Glen,’ she exclaimed the instant she spotted him. She then said gravely, ‘I hope we’re not going to be asked to vote on what I think we are. Well, we can’t vote, can we? We’re not in the union. But all the same, we’ll have no choice but to go along with what the members decide.’

Glen just looked back at her grimly.

Meanwhile, upstairs in the office, the muted sounds of many voices reached Cait’s ears, filtering through the window which overlooked the yard. For a moment all went silent, then a louder voice erupted. She got up and went to the window to look out. When she saw all the workers she assumed a fire drill was in progress as she couldn’t think of any other reason for the whole factory to be congregating in the yard. They’d had a couple of fire drills while she was working at the wholesaler’s. They always seemed to take place in the depths of winter, all the staff left standing outside, freezing, until the all clear was announced. Well, sooner them than me, she thought as she returned to her desk, assuming she hadn’t been expected to take part because of her status.

Outside Glen looked on in dismay as the raised hands were counted. In reality they didn’t need to be. It was apparent even to the dimmest of those present that those agreeing to strike action outnumbered those who didn’t by at least twenty to one.

Jan touched his arm and whispered to him, ‘Well, hopefully this will make Lucy take notice and change her ways.’

He sighed heavily. ‘Despite the damage a strike will do the company, and what it will mean for us all, especially at Christmas time, I can’t help feeling responsible for her and the way she’s behaving. After all, she is my daughter. And what about my responsibility to her, as her father? I can’t just stand by and leave her to deal with this on her own. I can’t, Jan.’

Before she could stop him, he hurriedly stepped over to the workers’ entrance to the building. Stopping long enough to make sure all the workers’ attention was fixed firmly on the union representatives, not on him, Glen quickly disappeared inside.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

O
utside 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.

BOOK: A Perfect Christmas
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