by Joan Jonker
‘Good for you.’ Jean put a sheet of paper into the typewriter. ‘If and when you do qualify, don’t take a job here if Mr John offers you one. I’ve seen the way he looks at you, and you’d be better off with another firm. He likes the ladies does Mr John, and with his money there’s plenty of empty-headed females that fall for him. He never tells them he’s a married man with children, though; he conveniently forgets that. I feel sorry for his wife.’ She gave a sigh as she thought of the long day ahead. ‘Anyway, I’ll get on with this letter or he’ll have something else to find fault with.’
‘Just before yer start, Jean, can I have a quick word? Now I’ve got me mind set on bettering meself, I can’t wait to start. So can yer tell me where I could buy a book on shorthand, so I’ll at least know a little about it when I go to the first lesson next Monday?’
Jean opened a side drawer in her desk and took out a book. ‘You can have this. I don’t need it any more. As you can see, it has been well thumbed, but you might learn something from it. And persevere, Poppy, because you deserve better than this. It may take you weeks to get the hang of it, but keep going because it’ll pay off in the end.’
Poppy was just closing her desk drawer after putting the book inside when Mr John came through from his office. ‘Have you finished that letter yet, Miss Slater? I did tell you it was urgent.’ He took a watch out of the pocket of his waistcoat and glared, as though the watch was responsible for his mistake. If the client, who was a very important person, rang his father to complain, there would be a real rumpus. The only person Mr John didn’t look down on was his formidable father.
‘I shall have it ready in five minutes, Mr John,’ Jean said, her fingers flying over the keys. ‘I’ll bring it in for you to check as soon as I’ve finished.’
‘No time for that. As you get paid for being a competent secretary, there should be no spelling errors. I shall merely sign it, and then Miss Meadows can deliver it by hand as quickly as possible.’
Poppy could see Jean’s back stiffen and knew the secretary was finding it hard to refrain from giving her very ungentlemanly boss the answer he deserved. So Poppy spoke up with a smile on her face, hoping to smooth things over. ‘If I can run as quickly as Miss Slater types, the recipient will soon have the letter in his hand. She is the quickest typist I’ve ever seen.’
John stood in front of Poppy’s desk, and whether he intended to rebuke her or not no one would ever know, for one look at that beautiful face, with its generous mouth, wonderfully shaped lips and laughing hazel eyes, was enough to restore both his good temper and his appetite for a closer relationship with the delightful typist. ‘I’ll order a cab for you, Miss Meadows. We can’t have you running there and back. As soon as Miss Slater has the letter ready, I shall ring the taxi company.’
Poppy was stunned. But she soon regained her voice when she saw the lust in his eyes. ‘Certainly not, Mr John. I get paid to deliver the letters and I wouldn’t dream of allowing you to call me a taxi. We can’t have the rest of the staff thinking it’s favouritism. It would cause me a lot of trouble. Teacher’s pet, that sort of thing.’ Poppy gave him her brightest smile, thinking she’d gone far enough. The last thing she needed was to lose her job. ‘It was very thoughtful of you, and I appreciate that. But I quite enjoy the walk each day.’
Although Jean Slater had been typing at her usual speed, she hadn’t missed a word of the conversation going on behind her back. And she gave full marks to Poppy. Most of the typists would have jumped at the offer of a taxi to take them on their rounds, but they would never be given the chance because they didn’t have the looks or figure to whet Mr John’s sexual appetite.
‘The letter is ready now, if you will sign it, Mr John?’ Jean placed the letter flat on her desk, and as soon as her boss had signed it she called Poppy over. ‘Wait for an answer, Miss Meadows.’
Mr John stood behind the two women. ‘And come to my office the instant you get back, Miss Meadows, as the answer may require a response.’
Poppy didn’t reply. She picked up the letter, took her coat from the stand and left the office. Once out in the street, with people passing to and fro, she stood for a few seconds shivering. That was the effect John Sutherland had on her. The sooner she didn’t have to see his lustful eyes, or feel his breath on her neck when he was leaning closer than necessary, the happier she would be. Roll on the next few months.
Poppy didn’t take her usual route up Castle Street, for fear of bumping into that bloke again. She thought she’d heard his sister call him Andrew, but she wasn’t sure. Anyway, she’d go a different way today, just in case. It wasn’t that she was angry with him – what happened had been a pure accident. And she didn’t dislike him, for he seemed a nice, polite bloke. In fact she couldn’t put her finger on why she felt uncomfortable in his presence, she just did. Perhaps it was because he was so well spoken and wore such expensive clothes that he made her feel inferior. But Poppy dismissed that idea as she ran up the steps to the office where the letter was to be delivered. There was no reason to feel inferior: she was as good as anyone. Her mother had drummed that into her and David when they were young and money was tight. Clothes don’t make the man or woman, she used to tell them. It’s what’s inside that counts.
‘You’re early today, Poppy.’ The woman sitting at the desk behind the open window smiled. ‘An hour early, to be exact.’
Poppy handed the letter over. ‘My boss told me to deliver this as quickly as possible.’ She pulled a face. ‘I didn’t mind me mam telling me to run all the way there and back when I was a kid going to the corner shop on a message, but I’m a bit old to be spoken to like that now. If I didn’t need the money, I’d have told him to keep his job.’
The woman, whose name was Amy Wright, checked whom the letter was addressed to before saying, ‘If I was a betting woman, I’d lay ten to one that your boss is the young Mr Sutherland, and this letter should have been here yesterday. Am I right?’
Poppy nodded. ‘I don’t know what happened. Mr John must have slipped up. He wouldn’t admit it, though – he’s too big-headed to confess he’d made a mistake. Anyway, I’ve got to hang around for an answer, so can I come through and wait? It’s blowing a gale and freezing out here.’
Amy grinned. ‘It’s not much warmer in this tiny cubbyhole. I’ve only got a one-bar electric fire. Anyway, Poppy, come on through. I’ll take the letter up to Mr Fortune and see if he wants to reply straight away or not. Stand near the fire and warm yourself ready for the return journey. I’ll be as quick as I can be, but like you I don’t have a very understanding boss.’
Amy Wright was back before Poppy had time to feel the benefit of the pitifully inadequate electric fire. ‘I don’t know whether I’m better off than you or not, Amy. Half an hour ago I would have gladly swapped places with yer, but at least we have heating in our office, whereas yer could freeze to death in here.’
‘The partners here have heating in their offices, but they’re too tight-fisted to consider the rest of us.’ Amy sighed. ‘Anyway Poppy, there’s no reply for you to take back. Mr Sutherland will be getting a telephone call. And if a tone of voice is anything to go by, the conversation is going to be a heated one.’
Poppy chuckled. ‘Oh, I hope he gets cut down to size. It’s about time someone gave him down the banks. He loves his little self, but God’s gift to women he isn’t.’ She wrapped her scarf tightly round her neck and shivered. ‘I’ll get going and walk quickly to keep meself warm. And I think I’d be wise to keep out of Mr John’s way. If I see him coming, I’ll make a dash for the ladies. That’s one place he wouldn’t dare enter.’ She walked out of the door, then waved to Amy through the window. ‘See yer tomorrow. Ta-ra.’
Waiting to cross the busy main road to get to the office, Poppy saw Mr John coming out of the building. He was wearing a scarf tucked inside his tailored overcoat, and his hands were being kept warm by fur-lined gloves. Poppy was hoping to avoid him, but unfortunately he had spotted her, and he wa
ited for her to cross the road. There was no smarmy smile on his face now, and his words were clipped when he said, ‘See the rest of the mail is attended to, Miss Meadows, as I have an important meeting to attend. It is possible I won’t be back in the office until early afternoon. In that case I want you to keep yourself busy going though the filing cabinets and making sure all files are in order. My absence is no excuse for shirking. Is that quite clearly understood?’
‘Yes, Mr John,’ Poppy said aloud. But in her mind she was saying that understanding didn’t mean doing. She wasn’t a shirker by nature, but being spoken to as though she was not only lazy but also stupid was hard to take. Nobody, no matter how rich they were, should look down their nose at someone just because they weren’t rolling in money.
Back in the office, Poppy found Jean Slater so angry and tearful she could hardly speak. ‘Wait until I hang my coat up, and then we can go to the ladies and you can tell me what it is that’s upsetting you. There’s no hurry, ’cos I’ve just met Mr John and he won’t be back before our dinner break.’ Her coat on the stand, Poppy took Jean’s arm and steered her from the office.
‘I was near to tears, and so angry I wanted to tell Mr John what I really thought of him, and give in my notice.’ Jean swallowed hard to try to rid herself of the hard lump that had formed in her throat. ‘If I didn’t need the money so much, I would have walked out. Ten years I’ve worked here, and never been late, or taken a day off sick in all that time. And what thanks do I get? None whatsoever.’ She rubbed the heel of her hand across her eyes. ‘Mr John doesn’t know the meaning of the words respect and loyalty.’
Poppy put an arm across Jean’s shoulders. ‘You’re shaking like a leaf, love. Don’t let it get to yer. Tell me exactly what happened. Yer’ll feel much better when you get it all off yer chest.’
After a few sniffs, Jean said, ‘Mr Fortune was on the phone just before you came back, and although I didn’t hear every word I heard enough to know that Mr John was being taken down a peg or two. Mr Fortune is a man of very few words, normally, but he obviously didn’t like Mr John’s attitude on the phone, and threatened to take his business elsewhere.’
‘Oh, is that where he’s off to now?’ Poppy felt as though someone had given her a present. To hear that Mr John had been given a taste of his own medicine lifted her spirits. ‘But that should have made you feel good, Jean, not reduced you to tears.’
‘It would have done if he hadn’t put the blame on me. He told Mr Fortune that his incompetent secretary had placed his letter with some others, and then mislaid it. And he was telling those lies about me when I was standing listening! I mean, how low can you get? According to him, he hadn’t done a thing wrong, it was his secretary, and she would be severely reprimanded. So, Poppy, what price ten years’ loyalty? Ten years never putting a foot wrong.’
Poppy was shaking her head in disbelief. ‘He said that knowing you were there, listening?’ When Jean nodded, too full of emotion to put her thoughts into words, Poppy said, ‘There is something wrong with that man if he thinks he can do something so evil and get away with it. He’s not normal. I don’t think he should get away with laying the blame at your door for his mistake. Can’t you complain to someone, and make him apologize?’
‘There’s no one to complain to.’ Jean shrugged her shoulders and let out a long sigh. ‘Apart from his father, there’s no one above him who could reprimand him.’
‘I’ve never spoken to Mr Sutherland senior in the three years I’ve worked here,’ Poppy said. ‘Is he all right to get on with, or is he like his son?’
‘He’s very strict, is Mr John senior, and doesn’t have much to say to any of the staff, only his secretary. He’s the old-fashioned gentleman type. Raises his blocker to ladies, never swears, and is strictly teetotal. Anyway, there’d be no point in telling him his son is a liar, among other things, because Mr John would turn the tables and say it was me telling lies. I may as well forget the whole episode, ’cos I’d end up out of a job and without a decent reference.’
‘Yes, I suppose you’re right. Life isn’t fair, is it? I wouldn’t mind people having more money than me if they didn’t think it gave them the right to throw their weight around. I can’t stand anyone looking down their nose at me, or talking to me as though I haven’t a brain in me head.’
Jean moved away from the wall. ‘We’d better get back. If Mr John’s meeting doesn’t last as long as he expected it to, and he finds the office empty, we’d both lose our jobs. I’m not particularly happy here, but it’s better than standing in the dole queue.’ They returned to an empty office, and to their relief there was no sound from Mr John’s office. ‘I’ll get these few letters sorted out,’ Poppy said. ‘Then once they’re out of the way, and if Mr John doesn’t put in an appearance, I’m going to look at the book you’ve lent me on shorthand.’
‘It’ll be our lunch break in fifteen minutes,’ Jean said. ‘Would you like to come with me for a pot of tea and a sandwich?’
‘I’m trying to save up to buy meself a winter coat, so I can’t afford to spend much on me lunch.’
‘It’s my treat, as I invited you. And don’t worry about the money, ’cos you can get a sandwich or a bowl of soup for a shilling. And that includes a pot of tea.’
Poppy grinned. ‘Oh, I think the bank will run to that. But we both buy our own, right? I’m going to a dance tonight and I need to watch the coppers.’
‘I would have thought yer had plenty of lads eager to take you out. A girl with your looks shouldn’t have to pay for herself.’
‘I’m meeting a nice young man inside the Grafton, if you must know. And he wanted to take me. In fact he was quite upset that I wouldn’t go with him. But I always go to the dance with my friend, and I wasn’t going to let her down. I might do, after tonight, because last time we were there she paired off with a nice bloke. So who knows? She might have met the man of her dreams and want to see him every night. I’ll let you know tomorrow how I get on with my new male friend, and how Julie’s date turned out.’ Poppy grinned. ‘We’ve talked so much, at least I have, that it is now time for our lunch hour. Come on, coats on and off we pop. A bowl of hot soup seems very tempting right now.’
When they were sitting in the warmth of a small café, a bowl of soup in front of each of them and a thick slice of bread on a plate next to it, Jean asked, ‘Haven’t you got a steady boyfriend, Poppy? I don’t know why, but I thought you were courting strong.’
‘I’ve never been steady with any boy. Been out with plenty, but I’ve never met one that I’d leave me mam for. I will one day, but how far off that day is, only God knows. In the meanwhile I’ll love ’em and leave ’em.’
Jean was enjoying this get-together, for she had little chance of conversing with younger people. Or people of any age, if she was being truthful. She was a spinster, and lived with her elderly mother. So it was a pleasant change to be chatting to a young woman who was outgoing and enjoying life. ‘I’m glad to have company. I usually sit here on my own listening to what people at the tables near me are talking about.’
Poppy thought she was having her leg pulled until Jean’s expression told her she’d been telling the truth. ‘Ay, yer don’t have to be short of someone to talk to at dinnertime. Yer can spend the time with me – I’d be glad of the company. And believe me, Jean, I can talk the hind leg off a donkey. I got the impression yer were quiet and reserved, otherwise I’d have been telling yer me life story.’
‘Oh, I’d like that, Poppy, but not in working hours. I don’t want to give Mr John an excuse to have another go at me.’
‘Right then, I’ll keep a list in me head of things I get up to, and we’ll have a chinwag every day. And as I’m spending an hour every night on trying to learn shorthand, I might ask you for advice. Is that okay with you?’
‘As long as you don’t mind being corrected. You see, most Liverpool people have an accent, and they don’t sound their words properly. That can make for misunderstanding. For i
nstance, you say “me mam” instead of “my mother”. And “ye’re” instead of “you are”. Little things that you never give a thought to. But if you were taking dictation and wrote “me” instead of “my”, it could alter the whole sentence. But don’t worry about it, you’ll be fine.’
Although she was groaning inside, Poppy said, ‘Of course I’ll be fine. I’ll get used to it. It’s a case of having to, really. In future, to get used to it, my mother is no longer me mam.’
The two women laughed as they buttoned their coats and paid the bill. And as they walked towards the office, Poppy said, ‘Tomorrow you can give me a lesson on speaking English as it should be spoken in return for me telling you how I get on with Peter tonight.’ She drew Jean to a halt. ‘Ay, that reminds me of a picture I saw a few years ago. Leslie Howard was Professor Higgins and Wendy Hiller was Eliza Doolittle. Oh, it was a smashing picture.’ Then she pulled a face. ‘Ay, I don’t speak as bad as Eliza Doolittle, do I?’
Jean chuckled, and to her own ears it was a sound seldom heard. ‘Don’t be silly, there’s nothing wrong with the way you speak. And if you’re thinking what I think you are, then let me tell you I am no Professor Higgins.’
They reached the office steps and Poppy squeezed Jean’s arm. ‘I’ve enjoyed meself, it’s been fun. Thank you.’
‘How did you get on with Jim?’ Poppy asked her friend as they combed their hair and powdered their noses in front of the mirror in the cloakroom of the Grafton. ‘D’yer like him?’
Julie shrugged her shoulders. ‘Yeah, he’s okay. Didn’t try to get fresh or anything. He’s a better dancer than he is a talker, though, ’cos he didn’t have much to say for himself. A barrel of laughs he is not!’
‘Give the lad a chance, Julie. It was yer first date.’ Poppy thought her friend was being unfair. If the lad had talked non-stop all through the picture, or tried to get fresh, then she’d have had something to moan about. She patted her hair, which was curled around her face, then jerked her head. ‘Come on. I’ve kept Peter waiting long enough.’
