Escape From Evil - Cathy Wilson [128]
‘Easily!’ I said. ‘I know the plastic fabrication business inside out. I’d love to start doing it for myself. But would you really want to do that?’
‘I trust you,’ she said. ‘And I can’t bear to see you working where you’re not appreciated and so unhappy.’
So out of the cloud of Grandpa’s death had come this amazing silver lining that not only gave me my independence as a boss, but also allowed me to walk away from Steve and co with some pride.
Of course, putting a company together from scratch isn’t as easy as it sounds. I found cheap premises in the Paulsgrove part of Portsmouth and then went back to my old company to poach the best staff members. I actually persuaded one older guy, Michael, to come out of retirement for a couple of days a week to help me.
They were exciting times, but I soon realized twenty grand didn’t go very far. There are so many costs when you run a business, especially when you employ staff. It didn’t matter that we had no orders at the start, the boys still had to be paid. Even as the first meagre bits of business started to trickle in, I could see my money pot trickling away. I was already working every hour I could, but desperation called for innovation.
First, I took an extra job in a bar, then I began delivering evening papers and finally I set up another company catering for the wedding industry and similar events. For a while, I was doing all four. I’d finish work, deliver papers, pick Daniel up, eat and put him to bed and then make cakes to be delivered the following day or do paperwork until the small hours. Then up at six, deliveries, drop Daniel at school, work – and on and on. I was getting three hours’ sleep at night – and all to pay my bills and staff. It was hell. The only consolation was that it was my hell. If – no, when – we turned the corner, I would be the one to benefit.
Right then, though, the workload was suffocating. I was barely seeing my son, but I couldn’t stop. Everything I was doing, every hour after midnight I slaved away over the oven, every Saturday I spent on my own in the workshop moulding and drilling plastic while he played with friends, I was doing for him. It had been a lack of money that had driven me to attempt to take my life. More importantly, my poverty had been one of the reasons I’d been so susceptible to the charms of Peter Tobin. It wasn’t just him as an unsuspecting father figure I’d fallen for, but the whole package. The promise of a roof over my head and a job had been too tempting.
I swore that I would work and work, so Daniel never had to compromise like I had done.
There were other mistakes I’d made that I didn’t want Daniel to copy. When I’d met Peter, I’d considered myself a strong, independent, modern woman. I’d already proven myself as a wheeler and dealer at school. I was obviously going places. But then he’d used brute force against me and I’d crumbled.
As a consequence, Daniel was enrolled in every self-defence class going. Judo, karate, kendo, taekwondo – if there was a martial art course near us, he was doing it. He only took a few belts in any of them, bless him, but he loved going. I couldn’t tell him why it was so important to me that he could handle himself. I couldn’t shake the knowledge that Peter would be out one day. We need to be prepared.
While I didn’t really think Peter would ever hurt Daniel, I’d denied him access. He would want to avenge that the first chance he got, I just knew it.
Gradually business picked up and I won some good contracts. My proudest achievement was acquiring the John Lewis Partnership. It meant I was in Bracknell every week for meetings, but I loved that. You couldn’t walk into a Waitrose or John Lewis without seeing my handiwork. It was a proud time.
I was able to pay Granny back and, as a surprise, she said, ‘I’d like to give you the deposit for