Harold had been alone ever since his first wife had left him with a small son to look after years before. That small son had been a twenty-seven-year-old man, with his own commercial estate agent business in London, by the time Lisa’s mum had married Harold. As her mum had later confessed, it had been more for companionship than love on her part, but she had hoped Harold would be a good father figure for Lisa.
In that respect her mother had been right. Lisa adored Harold, and the brief visits of his son Nigel had not really impinged on her life. Except for the year when she was sixteen and Nigel had made a pass at her. But, as she’d already been a big girl, she had quickly disabled him with a hard knee to the groin, and it had not been a problem. On the subsequent rare occasions they had met they’d managed to uphold a polite façade.
Smoothing the fine linen of her short skirt down over her hips and adjusting the collar of her jacket, Lisa entered the building, a worried frown pleating her brow.
Her mother had died in Saint Mary’s Hospice, and her dying wish had been that five per cent of Lawson’s be gifted to the hospice. She’d had no time to change her will to encompass this, so Lisa had received fifty-two per cent of the company, and Harold had got the house. He also owned thirteen per cent of the company—shares he had accrued in bonus payments over the years in a scheme her father had set up. The will had passed probate the week before Lisa had married and against her better judgement, she had done as her mother requested the Friday preceding her wedding. The trouble was, she had yet to tell Harold, because she knew he would have insisted on making the donation himself. But realistically she could not see it being a problem as between them they still controlled the company. Now, Lisa had no more time to dwell on the subject, as various members of the staff greeted her return with huge smiles and a few suggestive remarks.
Mary was already in the office when Lisa walked in. A widow of forty with two teenage children, she had worked for the firm for seven years, and as Lisa’s PA for the last year.
‘Welcome back,’ Mary said, looking up from behind her computer terminal. ‘I won’t ask if you had a good honeymoon; I can see it in your face.’ She grinned.
Lisa had invited all the workforce to her wedding. It had been a traditional service in her local church on a Monday afternoon. The reception afterwards at Stratford’s leading hotel, apart from the fact that the best man had taken off immediately after his speech, had been a great party. Lisa and Alex had finally left late in the evening to spend the night in Alex’s London apartment, before flying out to Athens the next morning to board his yacht at the port of Piraeus. Thinking about it now brought warmth to her cheeks.
‘Yes, it was very nice,’ Lisa responded primly, and then winked. ‘My husband is all that, and more!’ Crossing the room, she lingered for a moment at the picture window, glancing at the view of the River Avon and fields beyond. It was a clear, blue-skied June day. A day for lovers to take a picnic and explore the countryside hand in hand. ‘And why I am here working when Alex is in London, I do not know,’ Lisa said out loud, before sitting down on the chair behind her desk and glancing up at Mary. ‘I must be mad.’
‘Madly in love,’ Mary quipped, placing a sheaf of papers on Lisa’s desk. ‘Priority messages, okay?’
Two hours later, musing over a cup of coffee, Lisa realised that Harold was right, all the work was up to date except for a few items that demanded her personal attention.
‘Congratulations, Mary, you’ve done a great job in my absence,’ she surprised the other woman by remarking.
Mary beamed back at her from her desk. ‘Thank you. It’s good to know I’m appreciated, but can I ask you something?’
‘Sure, ask away.’
‘Well, there have been rumours, now you’re married…’ Mary hesitated. ‘Well, rumours you might sell up.’
‘I promise you, Mary, the rumours are completely without foundation. In fact, I was about to ask you if you would like to take on more responsibility. A promotion; doing what you have been doing the past three and a half weeks. Obviously we’ll hire someone else to take over a lot of your existing work. And it would mean a substantial increase in your salary.’ Lisa mentioned a sum more than double Mary’s present salary. ‘Does the notion appeal?’ Lisa asked, grinning at the stunned look on Mary’s face.
‘Appeal? I would love it.’
‘Then get on to the agency and see if you can set up some interviews for Monday, for someone to replace you.’
‘But what about you?’ Mary asked. ‘I mean, you love your work.’