Chapter One

The hotel bedroom door closed behind him. He had edged it inch by inch towards the catch to prevent it clicking and disturbing her from her sleep. For a moment he leaned back against the door and closing his eyes took a deep breath. He couldn't help thinking that the term 'cold light of day' had never been more apt. The grey light flooding in from the window at the end of the hotel corridor was harsh and unforgiving, exposing the sordidness of the day after the night before. It was six o'clock in the morning, he had drunk more last night than he had for a long while and he could feel the beginnings of a dull ache at the back of his head. He had said and done things that were quite out of character and woken to the realisation that he was pretty ashamed of himself. As he made his way towards the lift, pulling on his jacket and combing his fingers through his hair, he was in no doubt that he was running away.

She heard the door shut. He had tried to be quiet but she had woken from a light sleep to hear and feel the rustlings of the bedcovers and the unmistakeable sound of someone trying to find their clothes and get dressed in a darkened room. She could have turned over and spoken to him but she didn't want to. If he wanted to say goodbye, then let him make the first move. As she heard him walking towards the door she realised he meant to slip away unnoticed. There was some consolation in knowing that at least his feelings mirrored her own and she wouldn't have to make polite small talk or worse still, pretend to be happy. It was better this way; she wouldn't ever have to see him again.

X-X-X-X

Charles James stood on the terrace at Nant Glyn House breathing in the clean, crisp air and taking in the magnificent view of the lawns gently sweeping down to the edge of the lake and beyond it the mountains of North Wales, their peaks obscured this morning by low cloud. Even on a day like this when rain was threatening and the darkening sky lent a brooding feel to the valley, he was impressed by its splendour. He liked to come out here by himself for a short time each morning, drink his first cup of coffee in peace and reconnect with nature. It was June but there was still a chill to the early morning breeze up here in the mountains. He zipped up his fleece and cupped his hands around the coffee mug.

It had been two months since his arrival here. A chance meeting four months ago at a regimental reunion with a former colleague, Peter Crosby, known to all as 'Bing', had introduced him to the idea of leading management training courses at an activity centre that Bing owned in North Wales. Bing had set up the business in partnership with another former army colleague, Adrian 'Ade' Morton, three years ago. The venture had gone well and it had been fortunate that on the occasion that he and Charles had run into each other, their needs had coincided. Bing was in need of another course leader as his third leader had just handed in his notice and Charles was at a difficult stage in his life: his divorce was about to be finalised and he was shortly to become homeless. Charles and Bing had served together during Charles' second tour of Afghanistan and crossed paths a couple of years later during a posting in Yorkshire. When Charles had made the decision to leave the army, rather than take a desk job after being injured during his fourth tour, fate had dealt him a lucky turn in the form of Bing's offer.

"You'll get full board and lodging at Nant Glyn. We had the old stable block converted into self-contained units for employees, so you'll get some privacy and there are no worries about having to share the ablutions with guests." He had assured him.

For Charles the job offer had been a lifeline, a chance to escape from the pressures and uncertainties that were weighing him down. With the sale of their family home and the need to provide financial security for his son, Sam, following his divorce from Rebecca, he had been facing the possibility of returning to live with his parents in Bath a prospect he hadn't relished at almost thirty years of age having lived independently since leaving home for university at eighteen.

He had been here two months and knew he had made the right decision. He loved the country, got on well with his colleagues and the other Nant Glyn staff and was enjoying the challenge of meeting and working with a new and diverse group of delegates every Monday. To him, the team building exercises were akin to taking a bunch of new recruits fresh from basic training and moulding them into a Section. During his last tour in Afghanistan, he had been the officer commanding Two Section which had been largely composed of new recruits on their first tour and they had worked together for months to work, think, and function as a team. Of course, Bing and Ade had been at pains to stress to him that he couldn't treat course delegates like squaddies. Firmness, authority and taking command of situations where necessary were well and good, but he should never lose sight of the fact that his charges each week were also paying customers.

"The calm before the storm!" Bing observed aloud as he strolled across the terrace to join Charles, a steaming mug of tea in his hand. He was ten years older than Charles, shorter and stockier in build and having suffered from thinning hair since his mid-twenties he had now stopped fighting the inevitable and kept his head clean shaven. He was blessed with charm, always had a word of welcome for everyone with a twinkle in his eye and was universally liked. Charles often thought he could have been taken for a publican rather than an ex-army major, such was his manner.

Bing was a family man and the move to Nant Glyn had involved bringing his wife and two young children with him. They now occupied the Lodge House a quarter of a mile away down the driveway. Sarah, Bing's wife, was a strong, supportive and practical woman, skills well-honed after thirteen years of being an army wife. She had joked to Charles that uprooting to the wilds of North Wales had been one of the easiest choices she had ever had to make. The three years she had spent in the Lodge House with her husband coming home from work every day were the most settled she had enjoyed since their marriage.

Hearing Sarah talk about her life this way Charles was forced to make comparisons with the life he and Rebecca had shared. It was clear to him now that she had never been cut out for life as a military wife and he had never been cut out for any other type of life. They had loved one another once but this hadn't been enough to sustain their relationship when they were frequently separated for long periods. He loved Sam with all his heart and knew that Rebecca was a good mother but she'd never wanted to be a single parent. She was settled with Rob now, a Bristol based accountant, and Sam seemed content. Charles drove down to the West Country every other weekend, collected Sam and either stayed with his parents or took him off somewhere for a night or two. He would like to have been able to skype him but internet coverage was still very patchy in this part of the world and even mobile reception couldn't be relied upon. Sometimes he simply had to resort to the landline or even put pen to paper and write to him but knowing that Rebecca was likely to be the one reading the letter aloud always made Charles feel inhibited and he kept the letters short. His single regret in working at Nant Glyn was the distance from his son but he reasoned that the distance would only serve to make him work harder to keep contact with Sam and continue to be a proper father.

Bing stood next to Charles, lost in thought, drinking his tea and admiring the view. Like Charles, he dressed for work in khaki combats and boots teamed with the red Nant Glyn House branded T shirts and jackets which bore the embroidered dragon logo. The evidence of their military backgrounds and training in both their appearance and manner always seemed to be well received by those who attended the courses. Many of the male participants seemed to enjoy the physical aspects of the course and some regarded it as a chance to prove their mettle to those who had experienced more testing conditions. Some of the ladies appeared to derive comfort from knowing that everything was well organised and they were in safe hands. Occasionally, participants were intimidated, thinking that everything would be run on military lines and they would fail to measure up. In situations like these Bing was invaluable. He had the knack of putting people at their ease and making sure they realised that the aim of the course was to challenge them to develop and use teamwork skills and not to overwhelm them or push them beyond their capabilities. He always stressed to everyone, colleagues and participants alike, that he wanted people to enjoy the experience and it was obvious to all that he certainly did.

Ade, Bing's business partner, a former infantry Captain, was a few years older than Charles and unmarried although he had a long-term girlfriend, Giselle, who worked in London. She occasionally appeared at Nant Glyn at weekends but more often than not, Ade disappeared on a Friday evening almost as soon as the last participant had left and didn't return until late on Sunday evening or occasionally at the crack of dawn on a Monday. Charles knew that Ade was back as he had heard his Range Rover pulling up outside his flat shortly before midnight last night.

"How many are we expecting today?" Charles enquired.

"Twenty four," Bing replied. "Fourteen men and ten women from a recruitment company." He deliberately paused to correct himself. "Sorry, I'd better put it the way their M.D. kept stressing to me when I pitched to him. They're not recruiters they're management consultants." He raised his eyebrows and Charles smiled. They were used to pandering to the little whims of their clients. "Anyway," Bing continued, "it'll be the usual, they'll be here in time for lunch and we'll kick off with the introductions at two o'clock."

Charles nodded. With only a few variations, courses followed the same format. The delegates arrived late morning in time for tea and coffee, registered and were assigned their accommodation with time to settle in before lunch was served in the dining room at twelve thirty. At two o'clock everyone assembled in the lounge for the main introductions, the course outline and to be split into their teams for the week. Bing, Ade and Charles would each be in charge of eight team members.

"We'll meet with Ade in the office as at eight thirty, OK?"

Charles nodded in response and Bing sauntered across the lawn towards the lake to check on the raft building materials they would be using tomorrow. He glanced at his watch. It was eight fifteen and he turned back towards the house to make his way to the office and check over the paperwork for this week's course.

Nant Glyn House dated from the 1870's and had been built as the country home of a wealthy slate quarry owner on the profits from the boom in demand for roofing slate during the late nineteenth century. A sold Victorian villa built of local stone and previously used as a hotel, it boasted fifteen twin guest rooms and a range of small meeting rooms as well as the requisite dining facilities, guest lounge and a small well-stocked bar in which delegates liked to congregate at the end of the day. Charles made his way around to the gravelled courtyard at the rear of the house and entered via the main door. The office was situated on the left hand side. When he pushed open the door, he saw Ade standing with his back to him looking at the course details pinned to the notice board.

Ade glanced over his shoulder as he heard Charles enter the room.

"Morning Charles. Good weekend?"

Charles had spent part of the weekend out on the hills enjoying a solitary stroll along the Nantlle Ridge. He never advised anyone else to walk alone in the mountains, being all too aware of the dangers that lay there for those inexperienced, ill-prepared or ill-equipped to deal with rapidly changing conditions that could be encountered. When he had been offered the post at Nant Glyn he had been concerned that it might be beyond the physical capabilities of someone unfit for active service, but Bing had assured him he wouldn't be leading teams of people on mountain treks and that orienteering and short navigation exercises over simple terrain would be the limits of what was expected on that score.

On Saturday it had been a lovely, warm sunny day with clear blue skies and the lure of the mountains had been too great. He generally restricted his serious hill walking to days like these when the weather was fine and he could allow plenty of time for his journey. The leg injury from Afghanistan which had brought his active service days to an end wouldn't allow him to undertake too many walks like this and he knew he would probably pay for this day's activity for most of the following week with pain and stiffness in his lower leg but he was willing to bear this if only to prove that he could still challenge himself and succeed.

After taking care to advise Bing and Sarah of his plans and intended route, he had set out on his walk making the steep ascent on the well-worn path from Rhyd-Ddu to Y Garn. He'd enjoyed the undulations of the ridge and the spectacular views out towards Anglesey and across the Irish Sea. These were the days that helped him get his mind back into focus and sort out the things in life that really mattered to him. In these moments he could set aside all the anguish and frustration that had surrounded him in the months following Afghanistan, the injury and the divorce from Rebecca and focus upon what was most important now and in the future; being a good father to Sam. Nothing else mattered.

"Yes, it was good thanks," Charles responded to Ade's question about the weekend, trying to forget about the aching in his right leg. "How was London?"

As if in answer Ade yawned and shook his head. "Busy, as always. Giselle wanted to go to some new art installation at a place on the South Bank. Some weird light arrangement supposed to represent birth and regeneration. Buggered, if I know what it was all about, then a vegan dinner party with some of her work colleagues followed yesterday by a local community music festival. Hippies, folk bands and organic food stalls. Do I look like the type of bloke who would arse about in a kaftan?"

Charles had to smile. At thirty three years of age, Ade Morton was the archetypal British army officer. Tall, slim, blond-haired and blue eyed, he had the swagger and confidence that only a public-school education could purchase and the self-deprecating sense of humour that only served to underline how comfortable he felt in his own skin. Although good manners had been instilled in him from an early age and he certainly knew how to behave on every occasion, he was nevertheless unafraid to voice his true opinion on any subject if asked. It wasn't the first time Charles had heard Ade moaning about the social activities that Giselle inflicted on him at weekends but he reasoned that for all his protestations he was still prepared to drop everything and drive the two hundred miles to London each weekend, just to spend a couple of days with her which spoke volumes about the strength of their relationship

"So, who have we got this week, then?" Charles asked.

Ade looked back at the notice board, "A company called CSF Management Consultants. Bing pitched for this one when I was on holiday with Giselle. Know anything about them?"

Charles was on the point of repeating Bing's words about them being a recruitment agency when something began to nag at his brain, a distant memory in which he felt sure he had heard the company name before.

"Where are they based?" he asked.

Ade scoured the board for information before announcing, "London area by the looks of it with a number of branches spread around the capital and south east."

Charles stepped forward and looked at the information. Bing had already split the delegates up into three groups of eight headed by one of the leaders. Each group had been designated by colour: red, blue and yellow. Charles was the leader of the blue group. He ran his finger down the list of delegates in the groups looking at each name in turn. As he reached the last but one in his own blue group he paused. With an unpleasant jolt of recollection, the full circumstances in which he had heard of CSF Management Consultants returned to him. He stared at the name lying next to his finger. How the hell could that have happened? A name he had tried to erase from his memory; Kate Allen. He screwed up his eyes as he grimaced in disbelief at his bad luck and muttered under his breath, "Shit!"