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rewarding to work for.’
    He paused there, waiting for somebody to say ‘hear, hear’, so I said, ‘Thank you, sir.’
    ‘Later on this morning I believe Mr Ward will show you round or he will detail someone else to do so. I always believe that new members of my office staff should be given a general overall picture of the firm’s activities at the earliest opportunity. I feel one can’t afford merely to employ people, one must interest them.’
    He switched on his smile as he got up, so I got up too and was going to leave when there was a tap at the door and a young man came in.
    ‘Oh, this is my son, Mr Terence Holbrook. We have a new member of the staff, Terry, Mrs Mary Taylor, who is coming to us this morning as assistant cashier.’
    This one shook hands with me. He looked older than the other young man – probably over thirty – and there was no likeness. He had fair hair, almost yellow and worn long, and a lower
lip that stuck out, and beautiful clothes. His look took me in in four seconds flat.
    ‘How d’you do. I hope you’ll be very happy with us. You wanted to see me, Dad?’
    Later I was shown round; but I didn’t get much intake that first morning, except of noise and machinery and new faces and smells of paper and print. The building was on two floors, and the
upper floor was where the office staff worked. I liked the look of the cashier’s office, which was the last one before the stairs. It was divided off by a frosted-glass partition, and to
reach it you had to pass through the next office where there was only the telephone switchboard, with one girl, and some filing cabinets. I mean, it could hardly have been better.
    I’ve got the new-girl approach pretty well laid on by now, and I soon settled in. I thought Sam Ward the manager showed me the sarcastic side of his tongue sometimes, and Susan Clabon, the
main girl cashier, took a bit of thawing; but as soon as I went over to the retail side and met Dawn Witherbie I had a friend for life who told me anything I wanted to know.
    ‘Well, dear, it’s like this. Mr George Rutland, Mark’s father, was managing director when I came, but when he died Christopher Holbrook became MD and Mark Rutland came into the
firm. Rex Newton-Smith – that’s the fourth director – he’s just a passenger, turns up four times a year for directors’ meetings. Lives with his mother, even though
he’s fifty odd. D’you like sugar? One or two?
    ‘Of course Christopher Holbrook, he booms away in his office, but it’s the two younger ones and Sam Ward who do most of the work. Terry Holbrook and Mark don’t get on –
you noticed that yet? Sticks out like a sore thumb. Damn, this spoon’s hot!
    ‘Mark’s made such a difference since he came – he’s turned the place upside down. It’s his idea, this retail side, and it’s been making money ever since it
opened. You coming to the staff dance? It’s not until May. We usually have a good time. Didn’t get home till five last year. You ought to have a good time with your looks. They
all turn up, directors and all. Mark didn’t come last year because he’d just lost his wife; but absolutely everyone else. Terry’s great fun; really lets his hair down. But watch
out for him. He’s mustard. He talks rather sissy but that means nothing. Phew, only half eleven; how the mornings drag.’
    ‘He lost his wife?’
    ‘Who, Terry? No. He’s married but they don’t live together any more. It’s Mark who lost his wife. A year last January. Kidneys or something odd. She was only
twenty-six.’
    ‘Perhaps that’s why he looks so pale.’
    ‘No, dear, that’s natural. He looked just the same before. It’s funny how they don’t get on, Mark and Terry. I often consider. Why do two men hate each other? Usually
it’s a woman. But I don’t see how it can be in their case.’
    It did not worry me how they got on. I didn’t expect to stay that long.
    But it didn’t pay to hurry. I opened an account