Chapter 1: Gofer

My nemesis came in the form of Claire Warrender.

I knew I wasn’t the sharpest knife in the drawer, so rather than struggle my way through college, incurring massive debts in the hope of scraping a degree in a subject at which I’d never excel, on leaving school I managed to land a job as a gofer with an advertising company.

My parents were disappointed, of course. They’d always wanted to see me do well. But that disappointment tempered by my ability to pay them a reasonable sum for board and lodgings now I was earning a wage.

The work was menial at first, even demeaning in some instances. And yes, I did have to fetch someone’s dry cleaning on occasion, as well as making the coffee, doing the photocopying and binding, lugging whiteboards around and even cleaning up spills which couldn’t be left until the cleaners did their rounds in the evening.

The majority of the people I interacted with on a daily basis were women, most only a few years older than myself as they tried to progress up the corporate ladder. Since I dressed smartly, had decent looks and an amiable personality, I was the subject of not a few ribald remarks and suggestions and even an offer or two, but as politely as possible I always demurred.