by Sharon Booth
He smiled. "Thanks. I like the way you say that."
I felt an ominous tingling and cleared my throat. "So, my opinion on what, Kit?"
The softness left his eyes, and he made an obvious effort to look business-like. "Thing is, Marley, I have some news for the staff, and I don't think they're going to be happy. I want your advice about how best to put it to them."
My heart sank. "Oh, God. What now?"
"Don't say it like that!"
"Well, what do you expect? They're already fuming about the staff Christmas meal, and then there's the LuvRocks contract."
"What are they saying about that?" His voice was sharp.
I shrugged. "What do you think they're saying? That you're a complete moron to throw it away like that. Okay, most of us wanted to get back to making our original products, anyway, but talk about throwing the baby out with the bathwater."
"It was the right decision," he said, sounding grumpy.
"So you say, but come on! Some of them are worried that you're going to make us bankrupt at this rate. It's all right for you, sitting here in your posh house. Some of us have rent to pay, or mortgages. Some of us have bills and families—children ..."
"I know that. I don't want them to worry. I really don't." He took a sip of hot chocolate and sighed. I wondered how he managed to drink it without getting cream all over his face. Typical. "Thing is, Marley, I don't want to do things the way Jack did. Don't get me wrong," he said quickly, as I began to protest, "I'm very grateful to him for the way he took over the company, and for how hard he's worked. The LuvRocks contract was absolutely the right thing at the time. Thing is, it's not the right thing for Carroll's anymore. The staff can hate me, if they like, but that's my decision, and I'm not about to change my mind."
"So," I said, rather huffily, "what's the latest bombshell you're about to drop?"
"The Christmas bonus." He took a deep breath. "There won't be one this year."
I simply couldn't believe what I was hearing. My fingers tightened around the mug. "You are joking?"
He shook his head. "I'm not, I assure you. You see, what you have to understand—"
"No! What you have to understand is that it's Christmas! We always get our bonus, and we always expect it. We count on it. I mean, some of the staff count on it. It helps with the Christmas presents for their kids, or the food bill, or visiting relatives, or the extra heating for the winter. They're used to it. You can't just withdraw it without warning."
"I am warning them. That's what I want you to help me with."
"You call two and a half weeks warning? They'll be expecting it in their next pay packet! Jack always gives it to them before Christmas. You can't do this."
He frowned at me. "Are you reliant on this bonus, Marley?"
I shuffled, annoyed at his question. "Of course not. I mean, it helps, obviously, but I'm not as reliant on it as some of the others. They have responsibilities, after all. Husbands, wives, elderly parents ..."
"Children."
I bit my lip. "Yeah. And children."
He looked down, swirling the drink in his mug for a moment. "I'm sorry. I understand that it's come as a shock, but if you could help me, so I can break it to them gently—"
"You must be kidding me." I slammed my mug down and stood up, my anger bubbling over. "You got me over here just to get me to do your dirty work for you? Forget it. I wouldn't help you if you were the last person on earth."
"Marley!"
"We're not at work now, and I can say what I bloody well like. You're a disgrace. These people work hard for you, all year round, and their graft has enabled you to go off and travel the world, living like a king, while they scrimp and save. The least—the very least—you could have done for them was to take them out for a thank-you meal, but, oh no. Even that was too much trouble for you. Now you're dropping this on them, as if they haven't got enough to worry about. Well, you can do this on your own. I'm having no part of it, and when you do tell them, I shall make it bloody clear that I totally disagree with you. Thanks for the chilli."
"Where the hell are you going?" His voice reached me as I headed for the door.
I looked back at him, my lip curled into a sneer. "Where do you think? Home."
He stood up. "I'll take you. You haven't brought a coat."
"You will not take me," I said. "I'd rather freeze to death."
"Now you're being stupid," he said.
"On the contrary, I've just wised up. I was stupid, because for a brief moment, I actually thought that maybe you were the man I fell in love with, all those years ago. But that man never really existed, did he? He broke my heart, trampled all over my feelings, and left. That's who you really are. A man who just doesn't care. I'll get a taxi, thanks very much."
"Broke your heart?" Kit was staring at me, his face pale. "What do you mean, broke your heart? We—"
"Forget it," I snapped. "It's ancient history. You know what, I really wish I had forgotten you. How much easier my life would be if I had. In fact, I wish to God I'd never met you."
His hand was on my arm, but I wrenched away from him.
"Marley, please wait. Let's talk about this."
I made sure I slammed the front door very hard on the way out.
God, it was freezing. I was a fool. I could have been sitting in his nice, warm car, instead of tramping the streets of Farthingdale looking for a taxi. My temper had got the better of me. He knew just which buttons to press, but then, he always had. I couldn't believe that he'd denied breaking my heart. No one was that stupid. He must have known.
My shoulders sagged suddenly. Except, he didn't know, did he? Not all of it, anyway. I shivered, wrapping my arms around myself as I walked. The taxi office wasn't far away, thank God. At that time of year, it shouldn't be too much of a wait for a car.
My eyes blurred with tears, and I rubbed them away fiercely. It was the cold air that was causing them. It certainly wasn't emotion. So, he'd acted all innocent and bewildered. Big deal. What sort of man was he, anyway? Cutting the Christmas bonus and expecting me to tell the staff about it? He must’ve thought I was stupid.
I was stupid. He was right about that, at least, because I'd actually thought I could change him. Make a difference. Remind him of the man he used to be when we'd first met. Well, I was on a hiding to nothing there. He hadn't been a man then. He'd been a boy. A little boy. And inside, he was still a little boy—a childish, selfish, cruel little boy.
If only Jack would come home, I thought. Jack would make everything right. He wouldn't let this happen. Jack!
Jack would never allow Kit to scrap the bonuses. If he knew, he would be furious. I'd bet he had no idea about it, and probably didn't even know about the LuvRocks contract, either. I'd ring Jack and tell him what was going on.
I felt suddenly much better. Okay, Kit may have been in charge, but it was Jack who'd won the contract, Jack who'd been running the factory for years. He wouldn't just let his brother destroy everything he'd worked for without a fight.
Kit was about to get a very nasty shock, indeed.
Chapter Eighteen
It was a relief going into work, knowing that Kit wasn't around. I didn't think I could have faced him, after what had happened the previous night.
Glaring at the closed door to his office, I made myself a coffee and sat down, wishing I could ring Jack right now, while I had the nerve. A quick check on Google, however, confirmed that it was the early hours of the morning in New York, so I would have to wait until after lunch to call him. I only hoped I would still have the nerve.
As the morning wore on, I could feel my resolve start to falter. Was it fair to involve Jack, when he was on holiday? He clearly needed a break from work, and would it be right to let him know how things were playing out at the factory in his absence?
Then again, I reasoned, was it fair to keep him in the dark? To let everything he'd worked so hard for just slip away?
Plus, there were the workers to consider. I k
new for a fact that Olivia and David counted on their bonuses. It wasn't a huge amount of money, but it came in very useful around Christmas time. I was certain they weren't the only ones to rely on it. Surely, Jack would realise that, and would force Kit to reinstate it. Even if it was too late to save the LuvRocks contract, he could at least make things easier for his employees.
As my mind fought a constant battle, it became difficult to concentrate on my work. I kept remembering the expression on Kit's face, and the pleading look in his eyes, when he'd tried to persuade me to tell the staff for him. As I replayed our conversation in my mind, I realised, with a guilty start, that he hadn't actually asked me that, at all. All he'd wanted was my advice on the best way to go about telling them. He was going to do the deed himself. I'd overreacted badly.
By lunchtime, I'd more, or less, made up my mind not to involve Jack, at all. When Kit got back tomorrow, I'd simply sit him down and force him to listen to reason. He wasn't a monster, after all.
Was he?
The canteen seemed quieter than usual when I queued for lunch. A subdued air floated among the staff, and even Don wasn't wearing his Santa hat.
"What's up with everyone?" I put my plate of risotto on the table and eyed Olivia curiously. "Even Liz has lowered Now Christmas down to loud. It's usually playing at deafening roar."
"Everyone's pretty fed up," she said with a sigh, prodding a rather dismal-looking lamb stew with her spoon. "There doesn't seem to be much Christmas spirit in here these days."
"Well, it's not surprising, is it?" David said, as he and Don dropped down beside us, each carrying a plate of steak and kidney pudding with chips and peas. "Everyone's feeling pretty hard done by, what with the Christmas buffet being cancelled, and all the confusion about LuvRocks. And look around," he added, waving his fork in the air. "Not exactly overloaded with Christmas decorations, are we?"
Jack usually roped in members of staff to decorate the canteen and public areas of the factory with festive trimmings. There was always a tree in the entrance foyer, too. This year, the whole place was bare and looked very sorry for itself. Trouble was, even if Kit had agreed to decorating the place—and God knows, that was highly doubtful—I knew for a fact that Jack had thrown most of the stuff away last year, declaring it well past its sell-by date and promising that he would buy new decorations the following year. Well, it was the following year, and I was pretty certain that he'd done no such thing. Great. Things just went from bad to worse.
"I'll have a word with Kit," I said impulsively.
God, had I really said that? As if he'd care about Christmas decorations, and hadn't I enough to deal with already?
However, looking around and seeing the obvious discontent on everyone's faces, I thought, with increasing gloom, how much worse they would feel once Kit broke the news about the bonus. If they were already this fed up, how bad would it be after that little bombshell?
My stomach churned. He couldn't do it to them, he just couldn't. I would have to call Jack. I had no choice. In the meantime, there was something I could do to cheer them all up.
Liz raised an eyebrow when I asked her to turn off the music, but there were no arguments from her. Nervously, I surveyed the clearly-surprised staff and raised my hands, appealing for their attention. They all stopped talking, when I cleared my throat.
"It's just a couple of weeks until Christmas,” I began, “and this factory is sadly lacking in any festive spirit. Unfortunately, Jack threw out all the decorations and the tree last year, as he fully intended to replace them with new ones. I'm sure we can all agree that they were looking a little shabby."
Shabby was an understatement. They were donkey's years old, and had been a source of embarrassment, frankly. They were so tatty, I'd have been ashamed if I'd been Jack, but then, men were often oblivious to those things, and, let's be honest, no one there had much taste.
"Anyway, it's pretty obvious that Kit Carroll has other things on his mind right now." Didn't he just! "After all, this is all quite new to him, and it's been a lot for him to deal with, so I think he can be forgiven for forgetting about such things, which, I'm sure, must be very low on his list of priorities." Yeah, his main priority at the moment being to screw us all out of our bonuses without causing a riot. "So, I think we should take matters into our own hands, and decorate the factory ourselves after the shift finishes." And before he gets back tomorrow and tries to stop us. "What do you say?"
There were some nods and a general mumbling of approval.
"Where are we getting the new decs from?" some bright spark called. "Left us some money in the kitty, has he?"
"Ha! A generous donation from our new boss?" Another man shook his head. "Doubt that very much."
"What I was thinking," I said loudly, as they all began to mutter to each other, clearly still rankled that they were missing out on their all-you-can-eat buffet at Miller's, "is that, maybe we can go home and find any spare decorations we have and bring them back here? I know I have some baubles that I can bring, and I'm sure, between us, we can all find enough stuff to make a difference to the canteen and the foyer, at least. Am I right?"
"And why the hell should we do that?" demanded a sour-faced woman with alarming turquoise eyeshadow. "I'm buggered if I'm forking out for something that the bosses should pay for."
There was a muttering of agreement.
Don stood up. "That's as may be," he said. "Fact is, though, Kit Carroll's new to this lark, and he obviously hasn't given the matter any thought. Jack's not here, and he's not likely to be back any time soon, so if we want this place to look a bit brighter and cheerier, it's up to us. You can argue all you like about whose responsibility it is, but the question remains: Do we want to make this factory Christmassy, or not? Up to us, I reckon, and I, for one, am all for it. Now, I've got a box full of tinsel, and I'm happy to bring that in. Anyone else got owt going spare?"
"I can bring some holly," someone called. "Got tons of the stuff growing in my garden."
"I'll pop to the shop and buy some balloons," someone else offered.
"I've got loads of spare baubles," someone else admitted. "I'm always buying new ones, every year, and I can't fit them all on my tree. I'll bring them in."
"We haven't got a tree, though," David pointed out. "Not much use bringing baubles without a tree."
There was a silence for a moment, then someone shouted out, "I've got an artificial tree in me loft. The wife wanted a change this year, so she's got one of them white trees. Looks bloody awful, but since when do I get a say about owt? Anyway, it means our old green one's just sitting there in its box doing nowt. I'll fetch it after work."
"Fabulous," I said, despite thinking, God what sort of tat are we going to finish up with? There would be no colour co-ordination whatsoever.
Still, needs must.
"You might as well get them lights back from Mum," Olivia murmured to me, as I sank back into my seat a few minutes later, having established that just about everyone was willing and able to bring something back to the factory after work. "You know, those posh clear ones that you bought her last year."
"Might be a bit of a problem with that," Don said, shaking his head. "Safety regulations, and all that. Anything electrical ought to be tested."
"It's fine," I said. "I bought them from Rochester's last December. They cost a fortune and they're top quality."
"Even so ..." He seemed to think for a minute, then said, "I know someone who's a qualified electrician. I'll get him to pop by after work and check them out. Don't want factory to go up in flames, do we?"
"And we don't want to give Kit Carroll an excuse to make us take the whole lot down, either," I admitted. "Fair enough, Don. Thanks."
Fearing the factory was going to look like a tacky nineteen-seventies department-store Santa's grotto, I headed back to the office after lunch and sank into my chair, eyeing the phone nervously. I shouldn't really put everything on Jack. He was on holiday, after all. Then again, it was his own fau
lt for leaving his brother in charge. I mean, of all people!
Although, thinking about it, maybe he'd had no choice. Maybe Kit had insisted, and since he owned the place, Jack could hardly refuse. No, it was still no good. Whichever way I looked at it, I couldn't get past the fact that it was Jack who'd swanned off to America on holiday, leaving us all at his brother's mercy, so in the end, the buck stopped with him. It was his responsibility to sort the mess out.
I looked through the address book on my desk and found his mobile number, then I picked up the receiver and jabbed the buttons, biting my lip as I punched out his number.
It took four rings for him to answer, and he sounded astonished to hear my voice. "Marley? This is a surprise." A moment's hesitation, then, "Is something wrong?"
Well, I hadn't rung him to chat about the weather, had I? "I'm sorry to disturb you on your holiday, Jack. I really am. I just didn't know what else to do." Taking a deep breath, I launched into my story, leaving nothing out. The LuvRocks contract, the Christmas buffet, the bonus, Kit's high-handed attitude, and how he'd managed to anger the staff. Jack listened in silence, not interrupting once. I began to wonder if he was still there. "So, you see, I had to tell you what was going on, because you know how the staff rely on the bonus, and it's not fair that, just because Kit's got a bee in his bonnet about us making traditional chocolate and rock, he's jeopardising our future and the future of this factory. You worked so hard to get the LuvRocks contract. You must see that he can't just throw it away on a whim."
More silence.
I chewed my lip anxiously. "Jack? Are you still there?"
"Yeah, yeah. Still here." He cleared his throat, and I sighed.
"You're narked I rang you, aren't you?"
"What? No, no. To be honest, Marley, I kind of wish you'd rung sooner. I need to talk to Kit, clearly."
I heaved a sigh of relief. "That would be great."
"Marley?" Jack's voice sounded strained, and I felt a pang of regret that I'd burdened him with it all when he should’ve been enjoying himself Christmas shopping with his family in New York.