LITMIR.BIZ

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but still subtly and quite profoundly different. One sheet to the right had a series of loose options and variations, but the detailed sketches on the other pages were of one only.

      Amelia was silent as she regarded the very confident drawings, looking briefly over again at the more loose sketch options before returning to the main images. She felt a warmth and an excitement; if this could be made cost effectively, if the branding and marketing were effective, this line alone could rebuild some the prestige Havesheld had lost. She could picture professionals using it, it would go with shorts and jeans, and would work well in dramatic colours.

      She listened to Ted droning on about the need to renew a tired old cliché and knew from his words that this was a formulaic speech. It had nothing to do with where the idea had come from or what it was trying to achieve. Despite his grand words, she knew he’d had nothing to do with the idea. Looking over her shoulder Amelia saw that the door to his office was shut. Ted had only done this previously when he knew he was going to be chastised. She smiled, realising the true author was probably out there on the factory floor.

      Knowing there would be no further commentary from him that would be of any use, she stood and regarded him warmly. “You’ve done an exceptional job here, Ted. This is a bold and imaginative response.” She couldn’t help but place at least one barb. “Is this all yours or did you get any of them out there to help on it?”

      Predictably, he stepped into the limelight. “Some of them made some detail comments. The ideas, though, were all mine.”

      Ignoring his statement, Amelia reached down for the drawings. “These look like photocopies, do you mind if I take them?”

      “No, take them, but I’ll have your word.”

      She frowned at the bizarre comment. “Word on what?”

      He folded his arms. “Richard and the board will know that I’ve done this, but I want no further part in its development. From here it’s your responsibility, but I’ll keep the originals and compare it to what you produce to make sure the design doesn’t get ruined.”

      Feeling herself on the edge of making a waspish retort, she held her tongue at the absolute futility of any response. Instead she smiled and nodded. “I will do my best.”

      Ted moved away from the table as she scooped up the drawings and returned to his desk. “Now you’ve taken up too much of my time, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t come back here again for some time.” He didn’t look at her as he spoke, making a mock effort at flicking through the piles of papers in front of him.

      Amelia rolled her eyes as she made for the door. “Ted, I will do my very best. This is an extraordinary contribution you’ve made, a great start, I’ll make sure the development is done by others to leave you in peace.” Somehow she managed to convey earnestness where her emotions were only cynical and just a little incredulous at his bravado.

      Turning towards the door Amelia dragged her eyes from the drawings and scanned the factory floor. Surely the author was among those out there and they must want to know how their designs were received. They must be watching now. Moving her attention from one far corner to the other, locking briefly on every figure, it was with some surprise that she acknowledged nobody was looking towards the office.

      Amelia mumbled to herself as she reached for the handle, “Who does something like this and doesn’t want to know how it turned out.”

      It was only then that she noticed the innocuous figure watching her discreetly from a corner of the long cutting bench. Hunched over a weathered last, the man’s head was tilted slightly sideways so that he could see her past the lank tresses of hair that hung over his face. Amelia almost swept her eyes past him, so non-descript was his composure and appearance, but returned his stare quickly as she realised he might be the person she sought. Excitement stabbed through her. Why else would he look at her that way? It must be him.

      As soon as she met his eyes the man dropped his attention back to the forming piece of leather in front of him. His hands danced around the last, stretching, tugging and fastening. There was a dextrousness and efficiency to his movements that was at odds with the complete disregard he seemed to have for his own appearance.

      Without interrupting her step Amelia passed through the door and moved out onto the factory floor. Other eyes lifted to regard her now and she met each briefly as she walked purposefully. As often as could be considered casual interest she returned her gaze to the man perched on the stool at the corner of the table. Jeans, runners and a flannel windcheater, there was nothing considered or identifiable about anything he wore; these were clothes to serve a purpose not to be any signpost as to who the person was.

      To her estimation he was in his mid twenties, thin, pale, with light brown hair hanging in loose strands around his shoulders. From their first brief glimpse Amelia remembered he had hazel eyes and small features.

      Glancing at him one more time before she reached the door she wondered momentarily at the stock society placed on the aristocracy of appearance. Were he dressed and groomed well, with a confident stance and demeanour, she’d take the person before her seriously, perhaps even defer to him without having spoken a word. But here was a person that showed none of those qualities, and instinctively she hadn’t even noticed him as she first swept the factory.

      Out in the warehouse she kept her attention on the image of the man in her mind and then finally found her thoughts settling on the jacket draped over the back of his chair. Screwing her feature up into a frown Amelia wondered why she found it familiar. Standing next to the door of her car she was almost ready to dismiss the niggling sensation before she realised what it was; it was the coat the figure she’d seen briefly last night had been wearing. It had been him in the warehouse.

      Anxious now, she fumbled with the keys and carefully deposited the drawings on the back seat before sliding into the driver’s seat and called Janet at the factory’s front reception. It took a few moments to remind the woman who she was and then she started to describe the man. She had to repeat the description several times, expanding carefully, before the light of comprehension dawned.

      “Oh, you must be talking about Jared Briggs,” Janet said enthusiastically. “He’s a very shy boy, been here forever, that’s why I didn’t think of him.”

      Amelia frowned. “Forever, what do you mean by that? He didn’t look that old to me.”

      There was a short laugh, an almost cackle. “He was sweeping the floors of the factory and doing odd jobs when he was a kid, left school early, was an apprentice, has been here ever since.” She paused for a moment. “I don’t think he’s ever done anything else. In fact, I don’t think he’s ever been out of the city.”

      Amelia still had little sense of him. “He’s what, twenty-five or thirty?”

      “Something like that.”

      Realising she’d shown too much interest already, Amelia was dismissive. “Ok, thanks, he’s not who I thought he was.”

      The response was immediate. “Who were you looking for?”

      Thinking quickly, Amelia responded without pausing. “I thought he might have been someone I’d seen at head office, but that guy was much older.”

      A rasping laugh echoed through the receiver again. “It wasn’t Jared, that’s way too far away for him, and much too adventurous.”

      Taking the drawings back to the office, she showed Richard and Adam. It took little more than a glance before the both of them lit up animatedly. Providing they could be made durably and cost effectively, there was no doubt in any of their minds there would be an expectant market for the range.

      Only Adam began to ask her where the design had come from; Richard had already lost interest and with mumblings of approval sauntered back to his expansive office. While Amelia thought about how to answer the question she made a show of watching him walk away. “Getting back to his share

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