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(except for her nose), but she
couldn’t, the urge to go to work was greater.  As she showered and
dressed, Charlotte smiled to herself.  When she had been a teenager
working at St Gregory’s there would have been no competition - her bed would
have beaten work hands down - but not now, now she was dedicated to helping
Paul create his empire.  She didn’t know why she had changed so much,
perhaps being a slacker had just been a teenage thing, or perhaps it was
because she loved her job now.  On the other hand, as Tom her brother
always pointed out; it was because she was a sad old spinster with nothing else
to think about.  Charlotte quickly pushed the thoughts from her head and
carried on getting ready.
    An hour later she was pulling onto the car park of Palmer Insurance,
looking at the building and feeling proud to be a part of it and its
beginnings.  It wasn’t a huge company, but was still impressive, employing
around forty people, whom she would soon be responsible.  Charlotte
shuddered with the cold, as she carefully stepped through the puddles towards
the main reception, wishing that it was summer again.
    “Morning Debbie; cold isn’t it?”
    Debbie was about to put a call through to someone, so nodded
in agreement. “John, its Mr Avery from Hollness Steel…sorry Charlotte, yes it’s
freezing in here so I’ve got my thermal socks on over my tights.” Debbie thrust
a foot out from under the desk.
    “I’ll get that heater sorted for you today; Rob can check it
for you."  Charlotte took the letters that Debbie was holding out to
her with icy fingers, and started to make her way through the row of desks
behind the reception area.
    “Oh Charlotte, before you go, there has been a Mr Devine on
the telephone for you,” Charlotte frowned quizzically.  “He said that he
was from Johnson and Cathcart Engineering,” explained Debbie.  “It’s the
big engineering company that relocated to Manchester from Luton; anyway, he
wants to meet with you to talk about us taking over their insurance.”
    “He’d be better speaking with Paul if it’s a big contract.”
    “I suggested that, but he said that you had been personally
recommended by a Mr Grant Beddows, so he wants you to call him back.”
    Charlotte opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came
out.  She turned away, putting a hand to her head as if she was trying to
remember the name; of course, she remembered the name, how could she
forget?  Trying to compose herself before turning back to Debbie,
Charlotte took in deep breaths.
    “Err, Grant Beddows you said, erm let me think.” 
Charlotte stared at the wall, trying to clear her mind, but all she could think
was how much she hated Grant, even after all this time.  Quickly pulling
her thoughts together, Charlotte turned back to Debbie. “Yes, I think I know
who you mean.  Well, you’d better give him a call and arrange an
appointment then.”  With that she turned and strode towards her
office. 
    As she walked into the warm office, Charlotte gave a watery
smile to everyone.  She didn’t want them to know how sick she felt, or
that her palms were sweating, or that her heart was beating out of her chest.
    “Morning all,” she almost whispered.
    “Morning, huh, huh, Charlotte,” Bobby the accountant,
greeted her with his usual annoying dry cough.  Few people at Palmer’s
liked Bobby as he was a bit of a moaner.  He wore Cuban heeled boots to
give him extra height, but all they did was provide him with an unusually
stooped walk as he made long strides to try to balance on them; hence his
secret nickname of Short Arse Sheriff.
    “Morning Bobby, how are you getting on with the monthly results?" 
Charlotte asked, placing her bag on her desk.
    “Huh, huh,” Bobby responded, with his dry cough again. 
“I'm almost there.”
    “Good, well let’s not be late like last month shall
we?  And how are you today Gwen?” Charlotte turned to Gwen, as if dismissing
Bobby.
    “Not bad at