By Charlotte Lamb
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Extra info for Besieged
Gina had been helpless to argue any more after that. It comforted her own grief to know that she was needed. At first, there had been nothing much for her to do. She had had to invent her job herself, gradually realising that there was a vacuum in the large and busy office surrounding Sir George. He had plenty of secretaries who could type and use word processors, file, answer phones. What he needed was someone who would always be on hand to look after him personally; make his life easier; keep people away from him, including his senior secretary, on occasions; act as buffer between him and the world; talk to people he did not want to offend but did not want to talk to himself; act as his eyes and ears in the company; play go-between when members of the staff had a grievance they could not put forward through 'usual channels'.
He was talking as much to himself as her. His eyes were bloodshot, his skin as yellow as wax, and she was worried by the way he looked. 'I wished I had died with them, but there was their son. ' 'He loved you dearly,' Gina said gently, and he smiled at her then, his eyes regretful, though. 'But I worked harder than ever, to help me forget, and that meant I didn't see much of James. I left him with other people all the time, and I felt guilty about not spending enough time with him, so I spoilt him, I suppose.
I've spent the last few years planning this move to Barbary Wharf. ' She leaned her cheek against his arm in a tender gesture. 'You'll think of something! Don't be defeatist. ' He kissed the top of her silky head. ' he promised. In his office, she helped him take off his thick cashmere overcoat and hung it in the en-suite cloakroom leading out of the office. Justus Sir George sat down behind his desk, Hazel appeared; crisply neat and slender in a dove-grey pleated skirt and blue shirt, her dark brown hair softly bobbed around her oval face.