by Joan Jonker
Their eyes locked for a few seconds, then Poppy answered her brother in a very determined voice. ‘No, I am not going to waste my time thinking about a sad loser. I’m going to get on with my life. And I’m starting right now by having a look at the homework I’ve got to do. I’m not going to attempt to make a start on it, I’m too tired. But if I have a look at it, I’ll know what to ask Jean tomorrow. So, another cup of tea, fifteen minutes trying to figure out what Mr Jones has written, then I’ll be ready to climb those stairs to my bed.’
Eva shot up from her chair. ‘Kettle’s been on a low light, so tea will be ready before you’ve got yer pencil out. And we can stretch to a custard cream each.’
When Eva was in the kitchen, David moved his chair nearer to his sister. ‘Neither of us are doing very well in the good grammar department. If we both intend to seek good jobs, we need to look and speak the part. I know it’s not the best time to bring it up after what you’ve been through, but you could bear it in mind.’ He glanced towards the kitchen and lowered his voice. ‘I haven’t mentioned it before in case it doesn’t come off, but my boss has told me he has plans to open another warehouse and will need a supervisor and someone to deal with customers. It will be almost six months before it is up and running, but he hinted he would be looking for someone who dressed smartly and could converse with important clients. It would be an office job, no manual work involved, and if I can prove I’m up to it, the position is mine.’
Poppy’s mouth opened wide. ‘Oh, that’s wonderful! Your boss must think a lot of you, and you’ve never said a word!’
‘I’ve always been one of Mr Rankin’s blue-eyed boys. Since the day I started, he’s said I’m the best apprentice the firm has ever had. And I have worked hard, Poppy, and always kept my nose clean, for I knew I had to keep the job because of our mam. And it looks as though it’s paid off.’
This made Poppy more determined than ever. ‘If you can do it, then so can I. We’ll make our mam so proud of us.’
David put a finger to his lips. ‘Not a word to her yet, until it happens. I don’t want to disappoint her.’
‘Who knows, David, I may land a better job before you. I guess mine, as a secretary, wouldn’t be as grand as yours, but I’ll be very happy. And while I’m learning shorthand, I’ll watch me grammar at the same time.’
David grinned. ‘It’s not “me” grammar, Poppy, it’s “my” grammar.’
They were both chortling when Eva bustled in carrying a tray. ‘Tea up.’
Chapter Thirteen
On Friday morning, sitting on the bus taking her into the city centre, Poppy made up her mind that she would not tell anyone about the ordeal of the night before. Not even Jean. Because it only needed a whisper of gossip, and it would be round every office in the building. And she didn’t want people asking questions and talking behind her back. Or adding their own version of what happened until it grew out of all proportion. She wanted to put the experience behind her and get on with her life.
So after hanging her coat up, Poppy took the cover off her typewriter, flexed her fingers, and started working on the correspondence lying on her desk. And she kept her head down, and her fingers busy, until Jean came out of Mr John’s office after taking dictation.
‘You’ve been very quiet since you came in, Poppy,’ Jean said. ‘You appear to be preoccupied, as though you have something on your mind.’
‘I’m fine, Jean, but you’re right, I do have something on my mind. I’ve been dreaming of the new coat I’m going to buy meself tomorrow. I can’t make up my mind what colour or style to look for.’
‘Oh, if you’re anything like me, you’ll know which coat you want as soon as you set eyes on it. It’s not often I can afford to buy a new coat, mind, but when I have, I’ve always found that the first one that took my eye was the one I bought in the end. It’s just like choosing a boyfriend. I know it sounds soppy, but a look, or even just a touch, can tell you a certain lad is the one for you.’
Poppy was amazed. She had never expected anything like that from Jean. ‘I was under the impression you never bothered with members of the opposite sex. You surprise me.’
‘Oh, I had my moments when I was younger. I used to go dancing, went on a few dates, and met a lad that I really fell for. Went out with him nearly every night for a year, then my father became ill. Nobody thought what he was suffering from was life-threatening – we had no idea. But he died two days after he was taken into hospital. My mother was absolutely devastated. Out of her mind. I couldn’t go out and leave her on her own, so it was a choice between my boyfriend and my mother. I chose my mother. I’ve never regretted it, for I love her dearly. But there have been times when I’ve thought of the boyfriend, and wondered what my life might have been like with him.’
‘You did the right thing, though, Jean,’ Poppy said. ‘My dad died when I was about nine, and my mother had to go out to work to keep me and my brother. We both idolize her. We’re lucky because there’s two of us, so she’ll never be left on her own. Besides, she’s only in her early forties, and she still goes out to work. She keeps herself young that way, mixing with other women every day.’ Poppy suddenly remembered she had to deliver the day’s correspondence, and she pulled a face. ‘I’ll have to get cracking or I’ll be late with the mail. We can talk at dinnertime.’
‘How did you get on at night school?’
‘Not bad. I was quite pleased with meself.’ She pulled a face. ‘I mean “myself”, not “meself”.’
Jean was chuckling when she walked to her desk. Her colleague really was determined to get on in the world. And as she put a piece of paper in her typewriter, she muttered, ‘And good luck to her.’
‘You don’t mind if I bring this with me, do you, Jean?’ Poppy held up her notebook. ‘I’m going to be cheeky and ask you to look at the homework I’ve been given, to see if you can give me any advice.’
‘I don’t mind,’ Jean told her. ‘I’ll be glad to help.’
‘You’ll be glad when it’s over and you can see the back of me. But I can’t promise how soon that will be. Perhaps I’m too stupid to ever get the hang of it, and I’ll still be in the same job this time next year.’
‘I won’t be glad to see the back of you, Poppy. In fact I’ll be sorry when you leave. I’ll miss you.’
Poppy felt a bit sad herself, for Jean was a good friend. ‘Oh, you won’t get rid of me easily. If and when I get another job, it’s bound to be near here, so we can still meet for lunch every day, and swap gossip. I don’t like Mr John, but I’ll like to hear any news about him. Like if he loses a good client because he’s too big for his boots. Or if he comes into work one day with a black eye, given to him by his wife because she finds out he’s got himself a mistress.’
‘Oh, what a lovely thought.’ Jean entered the café and unwrapped her scarf before sitting down. It was warm inside, and she’d feel the benefit of the scarf more when she went out into the cold if she took it off now. ‘I think everyone, in every office in the building, would give a cheer if that happened, for no one likes him. If he wasn’t his father’s son, he’d have been out long ago. I often wonder if his father doesn’t see him as everyone else does, or if he doesn’t want to see.’
‘A bit of both, I should think,’ Poppy said. ‘The old man is a real gent, one of the old school type. But it would be very hard for any father to sack his son. Impossible, really, what with the wife and grandchildren. Anyway, let’s not dwell on work. Give ourselves a break. Is it soup again today?’
Jean nodded. ‘May as well finish the week on it. I was thinking Charlotte might have been down today. I’d like to see her again.’
‘Perhaps one day next week. But don’t be surprised if we don’t see her again. She probably has other things in her life to keep her busy.’
‘Yes, I suppose you’re right. Anyway, Poppy, leave the notebook with me while you put our order in. I’ll glance through it and see how best to help you. Then when we’ve eaten we can talk it through.’
Poppy pushed her chair back, oblivious of the looks of admiration from the male customers. But Jean noticed them, and told herself that one of the things she liked about Poppy was her lack of vanity. She had no idea how beautiful she was. There were a few good-looking girls in the building, but they couldn’t hold a candle to Poppy, even though they wore a lot of make-up and more fashionable clothes.
‘You’ll be happy to know it’s tomato soup today: your favourite.’ Poppy put the plate down in front of her friend. ‘And the bread is lovely and fresh. I’ll go back for mine, because the staff are busy. The girl said she’d bring it over, but I said I’d save her the trouble.’ She was turning away when she noticed the open notebook on Jean’s knee. ‘Leave that until after you’ve had your lunch. It’s bad enough me asking you to help, without spoiling your meal. Put it away and enjoy the soup, which smells delicious.’
The friends were quiet as they ate their meal, but Jean’s mind wasn’t idle. She had Poppy’s notebook propped up in front of her, and held steady by a salt cellar. It didn’t interfere with her enjoyment of the delicious soup and fresh homemade bread, though, for which Poppy was grateful. She felt guilty, as though she was taking advantage of her friend’s good nature, but when she’d voiced her unease Jean had told her not to be soft and gone back to her reading.
When the meal was over, Poppy took the plates back to the counter and ordered a pot of tea for two, which the waitress said she would bring to the table. ‘Tea is on its way,’ she told Jean when she got back to her chair. ‘The staff are run off their feet, so we may have to wait a while.’
‘We’re all right for time, don’t worry.’ Jean had laid the notebook flat, and she tapped a finger on it. ‘What I’m going to do, Poppy, which I think will be the best thing for you, is translate this shorthand the teacher has written into longhand. Keep going over what I have written and then read the shorthand. Try a sentence at a time, and keep at it. I promise you it’s the quickest way to learn. If you bring it in on Monday, I’ll give you a short test to see how you’ve done.’
‘Jean, you’re an angel,’ Poppy said. ‘I can’t tell you how grateful I am. But I will make it up to you, I promise, even though it may take a while.’
‘I wish you wouldn’t keep on about it, Poppy. I’d be a poor one if I didn’t help a friend. It’s not costing me anything, and I am really hoping things work out for you. Actually, you’ve done more for me than I’ve done for you. Having your company every lunchtime has meant a lot to me. I’ve never made friends with any of the staff because I’m older than most of them and they’ve sort of formed a clique. I have friends where I live, though, women who have been neighbours for years, so I’m not what you’d call a loner, or a recluse.’
‘I never for one minute thought you were,’ Poppy told her. ‘The only reason we’ve been slow in becoming friends lies in the office of Mr John. He certainly doesn’t agree with anyone being happy in their work. You never see a smile on his face, and a hearty laugh would kill him. He’s a miserable so and so, and he makes everyone else miserable. If I do manage to get meself another job, the only person I’d miss from there would be you.’ She frowned, then asked, ‘Jean, did I just say meself, instead of myself?’
‘Yes, you did, Poppy, but I wouldn’t worry about it. Your shorthand won’t suffer, you’ll see. That is the main thing to concentrate on. Except for the pot of tea which is now coming our way. You can pour while I start writing. I’m not going to do much here, for by the time we’ve drunk our tea it’ll be time to scoot back to the office. But if you’ll let me take the book with me, I can slip out to the washroom and finish it off.’
‘Don’t get into trouble on my account, Jean, or I’ll worry myself to death. Helping me is one thing, getting the sack for it is another. Don’t take any chances. It’s not worth it.’
‘Drink your tea and stop fretting,’ Jean told her. ‘Ten minutes’ writing, that’s all. And I’ll pass it to you at the end of the day. Now I can only advise you to take it slowly. Take a sentence at a time, comparing mine with your teacher’s. It may seem like a foreign language at first, but with patience it will fall into place. If you find you can’t make head or tail of it, bring the book in on Monday and I’ll see if I can help you, before you show it to your teacher.’
The friends put on their scarves, paid at the counter for the pot of tea, and then linked arms for the walk back to the office. Poppy was in a happy frame of mind, feeling more positive about her ability to reach her goal. And it was all down to Jean. A woman who had devoted her life to her elderly mother, and who worked for a man who didn’t appreciate her skill and loyalty. A man who treated her with scorn. Jean deserved better than that, and Poppy vowed that she would find a way to repay her, and let her know that she was appreciated. And no matter what happened, she would always keep in touch.
‘You don’t have to chaperon me, David,’ Poppy told her brother as she combed her mass of golden, glossy curls. ‘Peter will think you’re being nosy, or that you don’t believe I’m capable of looking after meself … er … myself. I’m nineteen, going on for twenty, not a child.’
‘You can talk until you’re blue in the face, Poppy, but I’m still coming with you. I’m sure Peter is a fine upstanding man, but you’ve only known him a matter of weeks. And I’m not going to give him the third degree by asking how much he’s got in the bank, or what his intentions are towards you.’
Poppy’s mouth gaped in horror. ‘Don’t you dare, David Meadows, or I’ll never speak to you again. And I mean that!’
‘Oh, come on, sis, where’s your sense of humour? I was only joking.’ David stood behind her and spoke to her reflection in the mirror. ‘I’ll just introduce myself, shake his hand, then leave you in his care.’
However, his sister wasn’t satisfied. ‘I still don’t see any need for you to come with me. It’s early evening and there’ll be plenty of people about, so I’ll be safe enough. Anyway, David, put yourself in Peter’s shoes. How would you feel if one of your dates turned up with a brother in tow?’
‘I’d tell him he could come to the pictures with us, as long as he paid for himself.’
Eva, who was sitting at the table listening, chuckled. ‘Why don’t you pick your girl up on the way, David, and make it a foursome?’
Poppy tutted. ‘Don’t you egg him on, Mam, he’s crazy enough as it is.’ She put the comb in her handbag and reached for her raincoat, which was draped over the arm of the couch. ‘Thank goodness I’ll have a decent coat to wear tomorrow. I’m not half looking forward to walking down the street dressed to the nines and looking like Lady Muck. What about you, Mam?’
‘Oh, I don’t fancy looking like Lady Muck, sweetheart. Mae West, perhaps, but that’s where I’d draw a line.’
‘Mam, you’re only half the size of Mae West,’ David said. ‘She’d eat you for dinner. How about Jean Harlow? She’s more your size.’
Poppy gave one more glance in the mirror, turned up the collar on the raincoat, and picked up her handbag. ‘I’m off, David, and if you insist on coming with me, then put a move on. And don’t forget, not one word about what happened last night. You’re just on your way to the shops for a packet of cigarettes.’
David followed her out of the door, saying, ‘But you know I don’t smoke.’
‘You do for tonight, brother. I’ll make that the excuse, you just shake hands with Peter, give him a big smile and then be on your way.’
Eva called after them, ‘I’m going next door for a game of cards. But don’t worry, I don’t need a chaperon either.’
Peter was standing in front of a sweetshop window when he saw Poppy crossing the road. She was linking a tall, good-looking bloke, and Peter’s heart sank. Then he curled a fist and punched it hard into the palm of his other hand, telling himself that’s what he’d like to do to the bloke who was laughing down at Poppy.
‘I’m sorry if you’ve been waiting long, Peter,’ Poppy said, ‘but you can blame it on David here. He
kept me talking.’
David held his hand out. ‘David Meadows, this young lady’s big brother.’
Peter let out the breath he’d been holding in. ‘Peter Broadhurst. For a minute I thought she had come to tell me she was sorry but she’d double-dated and I was the loser.’
David chortled. ‘I’m not brave enough to walk a girl to meet a bloke she was letting down. No, I’ve got a date myself and I’d better be on my way. It was nice meeting you, Peter, and no doubt I’ll see you again.’ The men shook hands and David hurried away.
‘You caused my heart to stop beating for a minute, babe, and I hope you don’t make a habit of it.’ Peter cupped her elbow. ‘Dance, or back row of the stalls?’
‘I’m not dressed for a dance, and I haven’t brought shoes with me. So it’s the back row of the stalls, if you promise to behave yourself.’
‘I’ll be as good as gold.’ Peter’s heart was back to normal and he felt ten feet tall. ‘I mean, holding your hand, or putting my arm round you, that couldn’t come under misbehaving, could it?’
‘It could if I stretched my imagination,’ Poppy told him. ‘But because I was late for our date, I’ll let you off.’
‘Your brother seems an easy bloke to get along with. Is your mother as easy-going, or will I have to wait until you introduce us to find out?’
They were nearing the picture house when Poppy said, ‘Don’t rush things, Peter. I’m keeping my priorities in order. Or at least I’m trying to. And my first priority is my career – if I’m going to have one. But it won’t be for want of trying if I don’t.’
‘I wouldn’t care if you scrubbed steps for a living, Poppy. You’ll suit me whatever you do.’
They walked into the foyer, and Poppy waited as Peter went to the kiosk for the tickets and a box of Cadbury’s Milk Tray. He chuckled when he handed her the box. ‘These are to take your mind off me stealing kisses.’
The usherette was shining her torch on two vacant seats on the back row when she heard Poppy answer, ‘This girl is not one to be bought with a box of chocolates, Peter Broadhurst. A mink coat, perhaps, but nothing as ordinary as a chocolate. Even if it is Cadbury’s.’
