by Lynda Page
Cait was bothered on two fronts by this unexpected visit. The first reason she did not voice to Jane. She’d have to cancel her own arrangement with another landlord to view a flat he was letting. She had meant to go in her dinner hour, desperate to be the first in the queue this time. At least it wouldn’t affect her arrangement to visit Belinda at her house tonight, for a girlie get-together. The second concern she had she did voice to the older woman. ‘I’m worried I’m going to make a total hash of this and look a real idiot. Mr Bowden is bound to ask me questions about the stock he’s interested in, and I won’t be able to answer.’
‘Stop worrying. There’s nothing he’ll ask that I can’t answer. If I see you struggling, I’ll step right in.’
Cait was mortally relieved to hear this. She asked Jane, ‘What would you like me to do to get things ready for his arrival?’
Jane consulted her list. ‘Hilda Digby needs informing she’ll be required to provide a cold buffet for us in the entertainment room – that’s the room off the viewing room where we take customers after they’ve decided on their selections, where they can relax with refreshments while we do the rest of the business. Hilda is not going to be at all amused at the short notice we’re giving her, but knowing her as I do I expect she’ll do her best to put together a good spread.’
‘Would you like me to speak to her?’ Cait asked.
Jane smiled gratefully at her. ‘If you don’t mind, yes, please. Oh, and can you ask them to prepare a tray of tea and coffee ready to bring up to your office the moment we get word Mr Bowden’s arrived. And if you could ask April on reception to keep her eyes peeled for his car in the car park and let us know immediately she sees it.’
Cait chuckled. ‘It’s like organising a military operation.’
Jane nodded. ‘Isn’t it just? I’m sure our customers have no idea how much trouble we go to to make them feel welcome and valued.’ She looked down her list again. ‘After you’ve dealt with the telephone calls, would you be kind enough to check the viewing room? See that the cleaner has given it a dust and polish recently as we haven’t had a viewing for a couple of months. The shelves and what’s on them could be in need of a dust. If so, let me know and I’ll do it myself if I have time. Or maybe I can find someone in the factory to do it.’
Cait had no intention of putting any more pressure on Jane. If the room needed dusting she would do it herself.
Jane remembered something else then and said, ‘Oh, and another thing to add to the list. Check the gents’ toilets are clean and there’s a fresh bar of soap and clean towel available. Then have all the men up on this floor told to use the one in the workers’ entrance until Mr Bowden has left. Can’t risk him using the facilities after the disgusting state some thoughtless men leave them in, can we?’ She said this as she added more tasks to her list. ‘Right, I think I’ve thought of everything. First of all I’m going to arrange for Harry Owens to check his inventory. All the outside manufacturers’ samples of the new range should be unpacked and on display. If not, he needs to see to that urgently. I already know that all the samples of the designs we produce ourselves are displayed. Just before Mr Swinton died, he took all the office staff down with him to have a look at them. He felt it was important for all the employees to know just what the company sold.’ A momentary look of sadness crossed Jane’s face at that memory but she quickly reverted to her efficient self.
Cait rose, telling her, ‘I’ll get back to you as soon as I’ve dealt with the jobs you’ve given me – see if there’s anything else I can do.’
Jane stared at Cait as she hurried away. After the young woman’s disastrous start, she was proving to be quite an asset. She would willingly accept instructions from Jane, and had not once reverted to her old superior ways. Jane couldn’t fault the work she produced either. She knew she’d be sorry when eventually a permanent manager was in place and Cait returned home. She assumed the family couldn’t be short of a bob or two, considering the way the factory had always done well since she’d been employed here. No doubt Cait usually spent her time in leisure pursuits. It was a shame, she felt, that the girl had not shown any interest in joining the company in a junior capacity as it was apparent to her that Cait had a good brain in her head and, with the right training and encouragement, could go far.
The shelves and stock did after all need a thorough dusting. Cait knew the cleaners kept their materials and equipment in a cupboard next to the ladies’ toilets by the clocking-in machine. After collecting what she required, she set about the task. Half an hour later she was still in the showroom, giving the shelves and the display of shoes and handbags on them a proper dust, doing her best to make sure they were all arranged in a way that showed them off to their best advantage.
Harry Owens did a double take when he bustled in a short while later, pushing a trolley with a dozen or so boxes holding the samples of shoes he’d not yet had time to unpack and check off. The owner’s daughter was standing there with a cloth in one hand, a shoe in the other, giving it a vigorous rub.
Looking at her incredulously, he said, ‘You shouldn’t be doing a job like that, Miss Thomas. We have cleaners to see to that sort of thing.’
Cait wiped her forehead with the back of one hand. ‘The client is due very shortly so we had no time to locate them. It’s all hands to the pump. Miss Trucker is running around, trying to get everything organised in time like her tail’s on fire, and I don’t mind at all what I do to help.’
Harry looked impressed. Tongue-in-cheek, he said, ‘Well, when you’ve finished, my office could do with a once over.’
She laughed. ‘I’ll see what I can do.’
A while later Cait was down to her last two shelves. Having picked up one of the shoes it held, she had given it a thorough dusting and was just putting it back when she felt the heavy wooden shelf wobble. Then, to her absolute horror, it broke away from its moorings in the wall and clattered to the floor with a crash, narrowly missing her feet. It collided with the one below, bringing that down with it and scattering all the shoes that had been arranged there.
Cait stared at the chaos surrounding her for several long seconds before panic reared within her. The customer was due shortly and what impression would he receive if he walked into this mess? She couldn’t tell Jane about it as she’d already got her hands full. Cait needed to sort this out herself. Her brain sprang into action. She needed Glen Trainer up here, and quick, to repair the shelves while she checked all the shoes over for any signs of damage. There must be a telephone extension nearby for the customers to use. Maybe in the entertainment room next-door. She was relieved to see she was right when she popped her head around the door a moment later. Dashing into the room and over to the table, she picked up the receiver.
When the receptionist answered, in an urgent tone, Cait said, ‘This is Caitlyn Thomas. Please locate the whereabouts of Mr Trainer of Maintenance and have him come to the viewing room urgently. I can’t stress urgently enough.’
Immediately it sank in with the receptionist just who her caller was, she snapped to attention and responded, ‘I’ll get on to it straight away, Miss Thomas.’
Cait replaced the receiver in its cradle and headed back to the showroom.
Glen’s and Cait’s paths had not crossed since Christmas Day, though obviously due to her position she knew he was leaving soon for a better job with more prospects. Just before the hooter blew that evening, when she knew he’d be clearing his desk for the new man who’d replace him, Cait had meant to telephone him discreetly, to wish him the best in his new venture and to thank him for what he’d done for her personally. But while he was here she could do that in person.
When Glen came charging into the room ten minutes later, breathless from running, he found Cait on her hands and knees picking up the shoes and inspecting each one as she did so, putting any marked ones aside to attempt to disguise the defects using an assortment of pots of shoe polish and buffing cloths which she had discovered in a drawer
beneath the display shelves.
She was mortally glad to see him and exclaimed, ‘Oh, thank God you’re here! I’m sorry about this as I know it’s your last day with us and this is all you need. But you can see for yourself what’s happened and we have a customer . . . a very important one . . . descending on us any minute to view our summer range and make his order. We can’t show him in here to this mess, can we? He’s expected to arrive around twelve and that’s less than an hour away.’
Glen quickly weighed up just what needed doing then assured her, ‘It’ll be tight but I reckon I can have this back to what it was by that time. I’ll do my best anyway.’
She thanked him enthusiastically. Side by side they worked together, Cait continuing to inspect the shoes and clean those requiring it, Glen fixing the shelves securely back in place. She had just finished her task and Glen was tackling the second of the shelves when the telephone in the next room shrilled. Cait went to answer it.
Before she could announce who she was into the mouthpiece, Jane Trucker asked in an urgent manner, ‘It’s that you, Miss Thomas?’
‘Yes, it is, Miss Trucker.’
‘Have you finished down there? Is it all shipshape? Only I’ve just had a call from reception. Mr Bowden’s car has pulled up at the front entrance . . . well, by now he’ll be out of it and heading inside. You need to be back up here ready to greet him when I escort him to the office.’
Cait rested the receiver on the small table and dashed back into the viewing room, to whisper urgently to Glen, ‘Miss Trucker’s on the telephone. The customer has arrived and is heading for reception right this minute. Miss Trucker wants me back up there now. But we’re not finished here!’
Glen told her, ‘Another fifteen minutes at most is all I’ll need. Don’t worry, I’ll be out of here long before you bring him down. After his journey he’s bound to want to freshen up and then a cup of tea or coffee and to pass some pleasantries with you before getting down to business. Take the back way and then you won’t bump into him in reception. I’ll finish off here and put the rest of the shoes back, make sure it all looks as it should.’
Cait smiled gratefully at him. ‘Thank you so much, Glen. There’s not time now but I’ll speak to you before you leave tonight, to say my goodbyes.’ With that she spun on her heel and dashed back into the entertainment room to pick up the receiver again and say into it, ‘Sorry about that, I just had to check something. I’ll be straight up, Miss Trucker.’
Cait had just arrived back in her office and managed to flick one hand over her smart skirt to rid it of any evidence of her scramble over the floor. She straightened her jacket, smoothed a hand over her hair and hurriedly applied a fresh coat of lipstick. After a tap at the door Miss Trucker walked in, followed by a tall good-looking man in his late-twenties. He was wearing a trench-style coat over a smart suit, and a trilby hat set at a jaunty angle covered his head of thick dark brown hair.
Jane made the introductions. ‘Mr Bowden, Miss Thomas. Mrs Thomas, the owner of the factory, was away abroad when Mr Swinton passed away so unexpectedly. In fact she isn’t back yet, so Miss Thomas is in charge of the place until her mother returns.’
Smiling, Mr Bowden walked towards her with one hand outstretched in greeting. After they had shaken hands he took off his hat and coat, which he gave to Jane to hang up for him, he said to Cait, ‘I was sorry to hear about Reg Swinton. He was a good man, a pleasure to have dealings with. I’ve never met a member of your family before so it’s nice to at last. Your mother obviously gives you far more credit that my father did when I was your age. He would never have allowed me the sort of responsibility your mother has given you in running this place. He wouldn’t even let me choose styles from our suppliers until he retired. Anyway, you’re obviously doing a first-class job of deputising for your mother as the firm seems to be running very smoothly to me.’
Cait told him, ‘I can assure you that it is only through the valiant efforts of Miss Trucker and the rest of the staff.’
Jane flashed a look at Cait which told her she appreciated this public recognition of what she was doing, over and above the call of duty. Then she asked Mr Bowden, ‘May I offer you any refreshments?’ She held out her hand to indicate a tray on Cait’s desk, holding a pot of tea and one of coffee, along with everything else needed to serve the drinks.
He shook his head. ‘No, thank you. If it’s all right with you, I’d prefer it if we got business out of the way first then I can relax while we have some lunch. I’m assuming you have laid on lunch as you always do?’
Jane told him that of course they had.
Cait meanwhile was inwardly panicking. Barely ten minutes had passed since she’d left Glen and he’d told her that he’d need fifteen to finish the job. If they went down to the showroom now he could still be working in there, and that wouldn’t do. Her mind raced for some way to keep Mr Bowden in her office for another five minutes but it was too late for that as he and Jane were already heading for the door, obviously expecting Cait to follow them.
Worried Glen would still be working away when they arrived and she’d have to make excuses for his presence to Mr Bowden, Cait was mortally relieved to see him exit the room, carrying his tool box, just as they were approaching it, the three of them walking side by side, Mr Bowden in the middle of the two women. Jane had also seen Glen come out of the room, was bothered by the fact that he’d been in there at all, immediately thought that when the canteen ladies had delivered the food after Cait had left a short time ago they must have noticed something wrong and called him to sort it out. She picked up speed and hurried ahead to check that all was in order, regardless of the fact that it was too late now to do anything about it as Mr Bowden and Cait were only seconds behind her.
Meanwhile Cait realised that Mr Bowden was no longer beside her and stopped to see where he had got to. It was with surprise that she saw him standing looking past her and down the corridor. She turned to look that way also, to see what had caught his attention. All she could see was the back of Glen as he disappeared through the door leading to the main factory part of the building. Mr Bowden seemed to be frowning. She walked back to join him and asked, ‘Are you all right, Mr Bowden?’
He pointed down the corridor. ‘That man I saw come out of the showroom and walk along the corridor. He looks different somehow but I know his face. I just can’t think where I know him from.’
There had only been one man Cait had seen so she said, ‘You mean Mr Trainer, our maintenance man?’
He looked at her thoughtfully for a moment. ‘Trainer? The name rings a bell. Oh, of course, maybe I came across him when I used to come here as a child with my father.’
‘I’m sorry, Mr Bowden, but you couldn’t have. Mr Trainer has only worked for the company for a few weeks.’
‘Oh, then it must be somewhere else I know him from.’ He shook his head. ‘No, but it’s not. It was here I remember seeing him. He wasn’t a maintenance man then, though, because I remember he was wearing a suit. He gave me . . . something . . . what was it now? I know, it was a bag of bulls-eyes because he knew they were my favourites.’
Just then Jane came back out into the corridor looking for them, wondering why they hadn’t joined her by now, and all thoughts immediately focused on the matter in hand.
Just over an hour later, business in the viewing room had been concluded very satisfactorily and Jane was leading them into the entertainment room for refreshments where hopefully Mr Bowden would make a sizeable order.
Dotted strategically round the walls was an assortment of framed photographs, all of scenes related in some way to the shoe industry. As well as a large mahogany table where the buffet had been set up, there was the smaller table which held the telephone Cait had used earlier along with stationery, pens and ink for the customer’s use. Opposite the mahogany table were several comfortable chairs which Jane now settled Mr Bowden and Cait into while she served them their food and drinks. As she approached the table she realis
ed that in her rush to get everything ready on time she had forgotten to send down the selection of wines she kept locked up in her office, so as to be able to provide a drink stronger than tea or coffee to their prestigious clients should they wish it. She was cross with herself for her lapse but as ever appeared calm and efficient as she made a suitable excuse for leaving the room and went off to fetch them.
Meanwhile, Cait and Mr Bowden fell into easy conversation. She was listening to him telling a funny anecdote about one of the customers who patronised their Leeds establishment, a titled lady who felt it was beneath her to visit the shop in person when she required a new pair of shoes, but would give the manager of the shop a brief description of the style she was after then expect him to visit her with a selection of shoes to choose from. Suddenly he stopped in mid-story and exclaimed: ‘I’ve suddenly remembered more about what I was talking about earlier, in the corridor. I remember it vividly in fact.’
It took Cait a moment to recall what he was talking about but she listened carefully as he went on speaking.
‘I would have been about fourteen or fifteen at the time and we were at the breakfast table. My father was reading the morning newspaper when suddenly he said to my mother something like, “My God, Mildred, I don’t believe it. You remember Trainer from Rose’s? You met him at one of the Christmas trade dinner dances we were invited to a couple of years back. He was there with his wife, she was pregnant at the time with their first baby. Well, it seems Trainer’s up before the beak for hijacking a lorry for its load of shoes, nearly killing the driver in the process.
‘“A man saw a lorry being unloaded at the back of Rose’s as he was walking his dog down by the canal and thought it suspicious enough to report to the police. In light of a hijacking incident earlier that night, the police took him seriously. They made a search of the premises the next morning and in one of the outhouses they found all the stolen goods from the hijacked lorry. The key to the padlock securing the outhouse door and the bloodied crowbar used to attack the driver were discovered in the glove box of Trainer’s car. Also, he exactly fitted the description of the man seen by the passerby to be unloading the lorry. He can’t produce an alibi for the night in question.”