Stranger Passing By. Lilian Peake

note itself becoming heavy with hidden meaning, with unspoken declarations of love...

      Admonishing herself for her sentimentality, for sheer stupidity in embroidering the facts until they became the stuff of fiction, Crystal put the note aside. Then she took it up again and held it in case it blew away in some errant draught.

      Head back, she felt her wayward thoughts conjure up the feel of Brent’s arms around her, the brush of his lips across hers... Her common sense brought her sharply back to the present and she began to wonder...

      Would Maureen’s idea of her making a last-minute appeal to Brent Akerman have any effect? Would their more than close encounter last night make him more willing to listen to her and perhaps put him on their side? After all, sleeping in a man’s arms, even though she had only been seated beside him on a sofa, must surely count for something more than if she’d merely been on nodding terms with him?

      She seized a cushion from behind her and hugged it close. ‘Mr Akerman,’ she could say, ‘it’s been suggested to me by Maureen Hilson, my colleague—and I thought it was a very good idea—that you might allow...the company might allow...’

      Yes, that should be OK, but how to contact him? By post? Or maybe she could fax a letter? The father of one of her friends had a machine in his home for business purposes. No, sending a letter that way would be too risky. If someone saw the faxed copy and discovered what she was trying to persuade Brent Akerman to do—save one shop from extinction, even though all the others were closed down—it might well stir up trouble and also damage her case immeasurably.

      Should she ring Head Office and ask for him personally, taking the risk of being snubbed by his secretary? Or should she go and see him?

      See Brent Akerman again? Her heart leapt, then dived. The chief executive of Worldview International wouldn’t even consider setting aside two minutes, let alone half an hour of his time to discuss what would be to him such a trivial matter.

      Plumping up the cushion, she turned to replace it when her eye caught a glimpse of a piece of patterned material that seemed to have partly hidden itself beneath the sofa.

      Crystal extracted it with care, holding it up.

      Before her startled eyes the tie Brent had been wearing the evening before unfolded itself. He had, she remembered, removed it in the course of those hours they had spent together, the thought of which even now made her pulse-rate accelerate. After dropping the tie he must have accidentally pushed it under the sofa.

      Now she had a reason for seeing him again. So what if it might be simpler to push it into an envelope and post it to him? But that was something she couldn’t do, because she didn’t know where he lived. Nor could she send it by post to his office. She imagined the expression on his secretary’s face as she opened an envelope addressed to her boss, only to find that it contained a folded tie that belonged to him. And that it had come courtesy of one of the firm’s lady employees!

      Crystal picked up the phone next morning. ‘Maureen, I’m going to take up your suggestion. About Worldview making an exception of our shop.’ The fact that she would also be returning Brent’s tie was a secret she would keep forever. ‘Yes,’ she went on, ‘I’m going to try to storm the bastion—Head Office—and fight my way through to the boss of bosses—’