Read Online Moving On by Anna Jacobs - Free Book Online Page B

advice . . . ?’
    ‘Please do.’
    ‘Go out and face the world boldly, whether you feel bold inside or not. Take the first step by making a vow to be more assertive. Say what you think and do only what you feel is right. That’s a fairly manageable step, don’t you think.’
    Molly looked at her uncertainly. ‘It’s not always polite or sensitive to say what you think.’
    ‘How far has being polite and sensitive got you so far?’
    ‘Hmm. Not very far. Though I do have some good friends.’
    ‘Of course you do and I hope you count me as one of them.’
    ‘Of course I do.’
    ‘Another thing, don’t let your family know where you’re going. Let them worry about you, for a change.’
    ‘They won’t care, let alone worry.’
    ‘They might not at first, but as time passes, they will. Tell them they can contact you by email only.’
    She gave Molly a quick hug. ‘You can do it. I know you can.’
    Her neighbour’s kindness stayed with Molly all day, making her feel warm and cared about. She didn’t know whether she could be more assertive but she could definitely try, couldn’t she?
    When a missile broke another window in the middle of that night, she didn’t weep, she got angry, furiously angry, and it only firmed up her resolve to stand up to whatever the world – or Craig – threw at her.
    He was not going to get the better of her. Why should she let him get her house from her at a knock-down price?
    She’d take Jane’s advice, and hold her ground, rather than backing away from confrontations from now on, verbal or otherwise.
    Euan went into the office early the following morning so that he could check the building work before office hours. Outside, in the sunny but cool spring air, men were whistling as they erected the wooden framework for the next row of six lodges, accompanied by a chorus of birdsong and the sharp, staccato sound of drills putting in tek screws.
    The houses always looked so fragile at this stage, like a child’s assembly kit.
    He stopped to chat, because he liked the men working there to know he was keeping an eye on things, that he understood what they were doing. But he also stopped to chat because he enjoyed their wry comments on life. He’d worked with the foreman before and trusted Dan to keep things on track – and to maintain the quality of the work.
    But however much you trusted your staff, he believed it still paid to be visible and not an absentee boss.
    He was back in his office before eight o’clock. When he heard a sound outside, though no one had called out good morning, he went out to find one of the cleaners kneeling down, taking things out of the bottom drawer of the reception desk.
    ‘Are you looking for something?’
    She gasped and jumped to her feet. ‘Oh, I— It’s just— Penny rang and asked me to clear out her bottom drawer. It’s only her personal things.’
    He looked at the muddle of objects on the floor: a box of tissues, a half-eaten bar of chocolate, a packet of women’s tights, a magazine – yes, these were personal. But there were also quite a few papers, the top one displaying the company heading.
    ‘I’ve got a box to put them in, Mr Santiago. I’m sorry for disturbing you. It won’t take me more than a minute or two to finish.’
    ‘I’d rather check those papers first, if you don’t mind. It looks as if business stuff may have got mixed up with Penny’s things.’
    His former secretary walked in just then, and while the cleaner hovered nearby looking distinctly uncomfortable, he explained what had happened.
    Avril looked at the mess on the floor as if it was crawling with maggots, and said to the cleaner in a chill tone, ‘I don’t think it’s your job to go through the desks in here. And when dealing with a mess of personal things like those, you ought to be wearing rubber gloves. You’ve put yourself at risk doing it, in more ways than one. If anything’s missing, you might be accused, too.’
    The cleaner backed