A Servant of the Company by Alan Cooke Page A

Sonia was due to fly to Heathrow where Simon had planned to pick her up and then drive to Birmingham. It was something he had been looking forward to, he would miss their nights together, she was one of the most attractive and desirable women he had known. Responding to the e-mail he chose the words which Sonia would want to read and clicked ‘Send’.
    ‘Now what?’ There was a dilemma, he had time on his hands, something he was unused to. ‘Sod it, I’ll still go to the show, just for day one.’ He nodded confirming his decision. The Company team would already have the displays set up ready for both trade and public enquiries, Simon would look in on them and give a few words of encouragement.
    He arrived prior to the official opening time and was standing by his company’s exhibits talking to his marketing team when his attention was drawn to a tall, slim figure checking items at the adjacent stand. The way she examined the furniture was not lost on Simon. Experience told him she was in the same business, either manufacturing or retailing. It also said that she might, if all the ingredients were there, fit his weekend needs. And so the stalking of his prey had begun. When she approached the Colbourne stand he saw she was wearing an exhibitor’s badge.
    She stopped, glanced around the displays and headed for a reproduction George III mahogany bureau. Opening the fall front she examined the interior drawers and pigeon holes. ‘I see you are having a George III week, very nice too.’ The comment was made to one of Simon’s young colleagues who was immediately in love with the beautiful young woman. A common occurrence whenever an attractive female passed his line of sight.
    He blushed. ‘Yes, it‘s our theme for the show this year.’ She was listening to him, and he started to feel more confident. ‘Are you in the furniture business?’ He hoped she was then they would have something in common. His nervousness had not allowed him to lower his glance to read her exhibitors’ badge. Maybe his luck was changing. Just maybe.
    ‘I’m with Harrison’s, we have a stand on Aisle H. You have some very nice pieces here. Do forgive me, but it’s always useful to check out the enemy.’ She smiled noticing how quickly he blushed. He was younger than her, immaculately dressed and very eager to impress. Probably fresh from his finals she thought.
    Today was not going to be his day. Simon joined them just as the young man was called to deal with an enquiry which Simon had initiated. It was his turn. Now he knew her company, the rest would come easily.
    As the young man reluctantly left to deal with the enquiry, Simon approached the focus of his attention. ‘Good morning, I heard you tell my colleague you are with Harrison’s. A very good company it is too, a worthy competitor.’ He welcomed her to the stand, advising on the historical nature of the piece of furniture she had been examining, and answering her questions. Her reaction was polite and professional, if not encouraging. This did not deter Simon. It was a challenge to accept and overcome.
    ‘You must be Simon Colbourne.’ She hoped she was right, he did look awfully like the photograph she had admired earlier that day in the current issue of Furniture Times, the industry’s trade magazine.
    Simon was impressed. ‘Yes, you are correct, but you have me at a disadvantage. I don’t know your name, but I do know you are the enemy.’ Smiling, he used her own term, her expression told him she had a sense of humour
    She held out her hand, ‘I’m Diane Adams, Harrison’s marketing manager for the country south of Manchester. No relation to any of the board of directors who keep me in the manner to which I am still growing accustomed. It seems like only yesterday that I was an impecunious student, but I’ve been with Harrison’s for five years. Before I know it I’ll be a pensioner.’ She looked carefully at him as he laughed at her comments. She was pleased