The
twenty-first century was meant to be good to me.
Sure,
it began well enough. I had a brilliant job, and I worked with people who were
more like family than friends. I’d also started to travel a little, two trips
to France in 1999, a trip to Belgium for my birthday in 2000, a trip to the
Eden Project in Cornwall in 2001.
Then a guy from Diss happened. He purchased the business, and instead of having the
balls to tell me that I didn’t fit his vision of what he wanted for the business
he set about making my life a misery, taking everything I’d worked so hard for
away from me before making it impossible for me to stay. He wore me down and
abused me mentally with late-night phone drunken phone calls. In the end I said
no more, and I resigned on health grounds.