Read A Perfect Christmas Online
Authors: Lynda Page
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 realised 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.”
‘I remember my father being very shocked by this news. He couldn’t believe that Trainer was responsible for committing such a vicious crime, not the man he knew so well – or thought he did. And he couldn’t understand why Trainer would need to do something like that for the money, as Father said he hadn’t heard any gossip that the company was in financial trouble. In fact, to his knowledge it was prospering. But all the evidence pointed to Trainer so he must have been guilty. Anyway . . .’
Cait had been listening to him intently, but one particular comment he’d made, made her interrupt him. ‘Did you say,
his company
?’
He nodded. ‘Yes. Trainer owned the business back then. My father didn’t talk about it any more within my earshot, so that’s all I know or remember. Your mother must have bought the business after Trainer was sent down. I’m surprised she never told you the story about the previous owner.’ He adopted a thoughtful expression. ‘I do wonder what Trainer’s doing working back here, though? Can’t be easy for him, odd jobbing for a firm he used to own. In fact, just how did he wangle a job for himself back here, all things considered? I’m surprised a reputable firm like Rose’s is employing a man with his criminal background. Oh, but maybe he’s recently been released from prison and, with hardly any chance of getting a job elsewhere, convinced Reg Swinton that he was a reformed character and should be given a chance to prove it. From what I knew of Reg, he would be just the sort to give anyone the benefit of the doubt. To me, though, a leopard rarely changes its spots so if I were you I’d have a beady eye kept on Trainer, just in case he’s not a reformed character. He could secretly be up to something which you should put a stop to before it’s too late.’
He then pulled a worried expression. ‘Mind you, I could be branding some poor man a vicious criminal when in fact he’s not that Trainer at all, just looks like him and happens to have the same name. I mean, it’s got to be fifteen years since I last saw him and much water had passed under the bridge since then. I should consider whether the old memory bank is playing tricks on me. Oh, here are the drinks,’ he said, rubbing his hands together as Jane returned, carrying a bottle each of white and red wine. He jumped up from his seat and strode over to her, offering, ‘Let me do the honours and uncork the wine for you.’
This information about Glen had shaken Cait to the core. Her thoughts were flying around like bubbles in a vigorously shaken bottle of lemonade. This had to be a case of mistaken identity. The Glen Trainer she knew couldn’t possibly be a vicious criminal, not a nice man like him. He was her saviour. He had risked his own job to talk sense into her and save the company from possible ruin and the workers from losing their jobs. To her those weren’t the actions of a thoughtless, violent man but of a caring, thoughtful one. She had socialised with Glen and never noticed the slightest thing about him to arouse her suspicions. But then Mr Bowden had told her that everyone who had known him at the time had been under the same impression about him as she was now, only to discover when he was caught that they’d been duped by him. Like she had been.
Then an awful thought struck Cait. What if Mr Bowden was right and Glen Trainer had come back to Rose’s to attempt to make money for himself? She had seen where he lived, noticed what kind of clothes we wore, the food that had been served up to her at Christmas. If he was indeed the same Trainer who had owned the company, then this was a man who had once been able to afford the good things in life. Maybe he wanted that life-style back for himself. He would never afford it on the wages of a maintenance man, and with his record never be able to climb the promotional ladder much higher than that. So the only way he could achieve a better standard of living for himself was to do it illegally.
She started wondering about that morning she had believed Glen had risked his job to talk to her about the firm and the workers’ security. What if that had been just a ruse to cover up his true motivation? That if the firm went under through a long-drawn-out strike, his own plan to do whatever it was to make himself serious money would go under with it. And Jan must be in league with him too. She lived with him, worked at Rose’s. Cait wondered what they were plotting together. Robbing the place somehow, it had got to be. The stock was valuable. So was the machinery. Oh, but then what if Glen was planning to do the same thing he had tried the last time, and which had only failed because he’d made a blunder by parking the vehicle where it could seen by the general public? All he had to do this time was find a more isolated place to offload it.
He’d obviously got a job with Rose’s so he could legitimately check the place over, see if changes had been made, in particular if the abandoned outhouses were still there and still vacant.
She needed to go to the police with all this information and get them to investigate Trainer, find out if he was up to no good and put a stop to it. But then she realised she could be pointing the finger of suspicion at a completely innocent man. First she needed to find out, one way or the other, if Glen Trainer was the man who had committed those crimes or if that was a different man entirely. There was only one way she could do so and that was to ask him to his face. Completely forgetting her arrangement with Belinda, she decided she would do that straight after work tonight by paying him a surprise visit.
Cait suddenly jerked up her head, realising that Mr Bowden was speaking to her. ‘Oh, I’m sorry, Mr Bowden, I was thinking of something I have to do tonight that I’d forgotten about.’ She then lowered her voice and continued, ‘Look, what we were talking about earlier. Would you please not mention anything about it to anyone here? I mean you could be wrong, and our Mr Trainer might be completely honest and above board. But I am going to make enquiries about him and find out one way or the other, and if he does turn out to be the criminal Trainer I shall go straight to the police, put the matter in their hands.’