She left the flat a few minutes later after making sure that Amanda had everything she needed. She had not had time to have any breakfast herself and had had to make do with a cup of tea, gulped scalding hot.
Outside it was bitterly cold. The fog cast a gloom over everything and the thought of the winter months ahead was not a pleasant one. She joined the queue at the bus stop, but all the buses were so full that they did not stop and she realised she could probably have walked there in the time she had been standing, freezing.
At last a bus did stop and she was squashed inside. The bus crawled along. The traffic was congested and the fog was so thick that the driver could hardly see at all.
She reached the entrance to the Steinbeck Building at nine-forty-five and thought with a sinking feeling that she might really get the sack this time. After all, this was the third time she had been late and she had not been there a month yet. It was no joke, and she walked into the reception hall feeling very small and rather scared. Today there was no sign of the handsome stranger whom she had half-hoped to see and Miss Morgan was just as angry as Caroline expected. Caroline had hardly got through the door before she pounced and stood staring at her grimly.
‘Do you realise, Miss Sinclair,’ she stormed, ‘that this is the third time in as many weeks you have been late?’
‘Yes, Miss Morgan,’ Caroline managed to say, shakily. ‘But I’m afraid the girl I share a flat with has developed influenza, and I couldn’t come away and leave her without making her some tea and filling her hot water bottle.’
Miss Morgan was not impressed.
‘Save your excuses for the personnel manager,’ she replied icily. ‘I intend to report you this time. I won’t have such lackadaisical behaviour in my department. It’s getting quite out of hand.’
‘But, Miss Morgan…’ Caroline began.
‘Say no more,’ commanded her superior. ‘You’ve wasted quite enough time already. Kindly go and get on with your work.’
Caroline went to her desk feeling near to tears. She saw Ruth looking at her sympathetically but hadn’t the heart to acknowledge her. The fog also did not seem to be thinning at all and she dreaded the rush she was going to have at lunch time, rushing back to the flat to attend to Amanda and then getting back here again, all in an hour.
She was summoned to Mr Donnelly’s office at eleven o’clock. Mr Donnelly was the personnel manager and when Caroline met him at her interview she had thought him very kind and pleasant. Today, however, he was far from pleasant. After hearing a tirade from Vera Morgan he felt justly annoyed and the suggestion that his judgment had been lacking when he hired Miss Sinclair irritated him immensely. He was thus in no mood to be his usual amiable self.
‘You realise, Miss Sinclair,’ he snapped angrily, ‘that I could fire you for this! You’ve let everybody down, especially me. It was in my power to employ you or not to do so. Having done so you go ahead and ridicule my recommendation!’
‘Oh, no, sir,’ exclaimed Caroline. ‘I truly am a punctual employee in the normal way. It’s simply that my flatmate has developed ‘flu and I had to attend to her before leaving home. And then the fog…’
Donnelly strode up and down restlessly. He wanted to believe this girl with the honest eyes. He was almost convinced she was telling the truth.
‘You’ve placed me in a very awkward position,’ he said at length. He sighed heavily. He could see how distraught she looked and how she genuinely seemed to want the job.
‘Very well, then,’ he decided slowly. ‘I’ll give you one more chance. Any deviation from regular times after this will mean instant dismissal. Do you understand?’
‘Yes, sir,’ Caroline’s heart was heavy. How on earth was she to manage at lunch time? She was tempted to ask him whether the might be permitted an extra quarter of an hour for lunch, but decided against it. He had been very fair and that would probably have been too much, even for him. As for asking Vera Morgan, that was unthinkable!
Back at her desk she did her work automatically, mentally calculating the time required to do what she wanted to do. An hour would just not be long enough. It would take her nearly half that time to get home, if she was lucky enough to get a bus, and as for getting back…
Ruth was frankly amazed when Caroline explained that she intended going home. She was quite sure that Caroline would never make it and Caroline wondered whether she ought to develop ‘flu too, and not bother going back at all. At least they couldn’t fire her for that!
Ruth went off to the staff canteen at lunch time where both she and Caroline always ate in the normal way, while Caroline almost flew down the stairs, not waiting for the lift. She rushed across the hall and out of the glass doors. The fog did not seem so thick, but it was bad enough. In her haste to reach the bus stop, Caroline ran full tilt into a man coming from the opposite direction.
‘Gosh, I’m awfully sorry,’ she began, and then as he steadied her she stopped. ‘Why, it’s you!’ It was the man from the lift.
He released her and smiled.
‘Miss Sinclair,’ he said easily. ‘I am right, aren’t I?’
‘Why, yes, but how do you know my name?’
He shrugged and ignored the question. ‘You’re in an enormous hurry.’
Caroline realised she was wasting time and grimaced. ‘Yes, it’s too long a story to tell you now, but I nearly got fired this morning and now I’m taking my life into my hands again. I’m sure to be late.’ She sighed heavily.
Adam Steinbeck hesitated and then he said: ‘Perhaps I could give you a lift.’
‘A lift?’ Caroline was incredulous. ‘In a car?’
‘Well, I didn’t intend carrying you on my back,’ he remarked rather dryly, and she chuckled.
‘But you’re not going in my direction,’ she exclaimed.
‘No, but I’m quite prepared to do so. My car is just parked along here. If you’d like a lift, that is.’
‘Gosh, would I?’ she cried in relief. ‘Please.’
‘Good.’ He put a hand beneath her elbow and guided her swiftly along the busy street. She was intensely conscious of the nearness of him and of how attractive he looked in a dark blue suit and dark overcoat. The collar of his overcoat was turned up and she found him quite fascinating.
The car turned out to be a Rolls, while a uniformed chauffeur was seated behind the steering wheel. He sprang out at Adam’s approach and said:
‘Are you ready to go already, sir?’
‘I am, Jules,’ replied Caroline’s companion smoothly. ‘However, I intend to drive myself. You can go along to the office and explain that I’ve been called away and will be rather late.’
‘Yes, sir.’ The chauffeur saluted smartly. If he was at all surprised at this turn of events he did not show it and although the sight of Caroline in her rather shabby duffel coat could not have been a usual one his face remained impassive. After he had gone Caroline looked curiously at her companion. Who on earth could he be, to run a Rolls and a chauffeur? He must only be a director, she decided nervously, and bit hard at her lip.
Adam smiled at her obvious discomfiture. ‘Don’t look so perturbed,’ he remarked lazily. ‘The car belongs to me, I can assure you.’
Caroline flushed. ‘I don’t doubt that,’ she replied, sighing and allowed him to assist her into the seat beside the driver. After closing her door firmly, he walked round the bonnet and slid in beside her. He looked perfectly at ease and she thought rather wistfully that he fitted the car. Both