Swansea Girls

by Catrin Collier

  ‘She not only has a diploma from a school of commerce but also from Lucy Clayton.’

  Katie remained silent – she had never heard of Lucy Clayton.

  ‘One last thing, what sort of wages were you hoping to earn?’

  ‘Miss Crabbe ...’

  ‘Ah, your mentor, or is it oracle?’ He laughed at his own joke but Mr Butler remained straight-faced.

  Failing to understand the significance of Mr Thomas’ remark, Katie ignored it. ‘She suggested one pound ten shillings a week would be fair for girls with our qualifications but I would be prepared to work for less if there were prospects.’ Katie dug her nails into the palm of her hand. Everyone in night school had warned her that wages were tricky, ask too little and you could find yourself working for less than the going rate, too much and you wouldn’t get the job.

  ‘Well, Miss Clay, Thank you for your time.’ Mr Thomas left his seat, effectively ending the interview.

  ‘Thank you for seeing me, Mr Thomas, Mr Butler.’

  ‘As we have more people to interview, we’ll inform you of the outcome in due course.’

  ‘Yes, thank you.’ Holding the envelope she hadn’t opened and her bag, she rose slowly, balancing her broken shoe precariously on her sprained foot.

  He pressed a buzzer on his desk. ‘Miss Evans will see you out.’

  Katie hobbled to the door with as much dignity as she could muster. It opened before she reached it.

  ‘See Miss Clay out, Miss Evans. Then I have some letters for you to take before we interview our next applicant.’

  ‘Yes, Mr Thomas.’ She closed the door. ‘That wasn’t too bad, was it?’ she asked as she helped Katie to the front door.

  ‘It was dreadful.’

  ‘If you don’t get the job, look on it as practice for the next interview. It might be for a better job that pays more.’

  Katie tried to return Isabel’s smile, but she couldn’t help feeling that the secretary had sized up her prospects the moment she’d broken her shoe. And even if Isabel was wrong, she’d rather work in the café for the rest of her life than face another ordeal like the one Mr Thomas had just put her through.

  Philip Butler left his chair, picked it up and carried it across to the back wall of his uncle’s office. ‘You’ve already given the job out.’ It was a statement not a question.

  ‘A chap in the Chamber of Commerce has a daughter just out of Gregg’s. He has a business but won’t take her into it. Not that I blame him for that, it’s notoriously difficult to work with family. Her mother’s a decent sort of woman, knows how to talk, dress and present herself, so the daughter will be more our sort.’

  ‘Then why advertise the job and get the hopes up of poor girls like that? She was practically dying of nerves.’

  ‘Which will go against her no matter what job she applies for. If she’s like that at an interview just think what she’ll be like when she has to work.’

  ‘You didn’t make it easy for her.’

  ‘I wish your mother had never sent you to that blasted university. All you’ve done since you’ve come back is spout socialist ideals. Do yourself and me a favour, Philip, grow up! Thomas and Butler is a well-respected firm. People look to us to lead the way. We can’t take on an unsuitable girl just because you feel sorry for her. And after talking to that one I’m not sure she should be aiming any higher than the café she’s already working in.’

  ‘I think ...’

  ‘You think! I’ve been meaning to say this since you joined Thomas and Butler. Just because your father and I setup this firm together, don’t go assuming that you have an equal partnership.’

  ‘My father ...’

  ‘Your father is dead, Philip. I offered to buy out his share. Your mother convinced me I should take you on instead. But unless you cure this sentimental streak and start behaving like a professional, I will press her to accept my offer. The next interview is in one hour. Be prompt.’

  ‘I’m not sure I want to sit in, if you’ve already promised the job.’

  ‘Do you want to continue working here?’ Richard Thomas stared at Philip. ‘Fine, I’ll see you then. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have letters to write. Someone in this firm has to bring in enough to cover the overheads.’

  ‘Hey, Katie, you look smart.’ Adam ran to catch up with her as she hobbled across the road. ‘What’s the matter?’ he asked as they reached the pavement and he saw tears in her eyes.

  ‘I’ve broken my shoe.’

  ‘So you have and twisted your ankle by the look of it. Have you been to the doctor’s?’

  Adam’s kindness coming on top of Mr Thomas’ brusque interrogation was too much. Katie burst out sobbing as she clung to the arm he offered her.

  ‘I had to take a couple of hours off to go to the dentist. I’ve just left. Come on, I’ll help you home.’

  She shook her head fiercely.

  ‘Then how about we go down the café opposite the Albert Hall and have a cup of tea?’

  Too upset to argue, Katie allowed him to lead her away.

  ‘Two teas and two sticky buns please, George,’ Adam called as he pushed open the door to the cafe. ‘And plenty of sugar in one of the teas, my friend here has twisted her ankle.’

  ‘So I see.’ George picked up a rag and soaked it under the cold tap behind the counter. ‘Here.’ He handed it to Adam. ‘That might bring down the swelling.’

  ‘Thanks, George. Katie ...’ Adam looked across to see her tears still falling thick and fast. ‘Look, if it hurts that much I’d better take you home.’

  ‘It’s not my ankle,’ she burst out between sobs.

  ‘Then what?’

  ‘You’re being kind and that man was horrible.’

  ‘What man?’

  ‘Your tea, miss, and help yourself to all the sugar you want.’ George pushed the bowl in front of her. ‘And here’s two of our stickiest buns. If I were you I’d eat first to make sure you get at least one bite. Adam’s a terror when he gets in front of those. I’ve seen him eat six in a row.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Katie managed a watery smile.

  ‘That’s better.’

  ‘I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. I had this interview for an office job and it went wrong.’

  ‘Is that all?’ Adam lifted her foot up alongside him as he slid into the booth opposite her.

  ‘All!’

  ‘I take it you wanted the job.’

  ‘More than anything.’ She glared at him. ‘And don’t you dare sneer at me, Adam Jordan, just because you’re working in the Land Registry and I’m in a café. I could work in an office if I was given the chance.’

  ‘Of course you could work in an office and I’m not making fun. My mother told me you came top of your class in night school. Look, I know what you’re going through. I never thought I’d pass my Civil Service entrance.’

  ‘But you did.’

  ‘Eventually. But it wasn’t easy and by the time I’d finished the last examination I’d begun to wonder if I’d be better off labouring like my father.’

  ‘You don’t mean that.’ Katie blotted her tears with her handkerchief.

  Adam bit into one of the buns. ‘Yes, I do,’ he reiterated decisively. ‘I know there’s no career prospects labouring, but unlike me, my father’s never had to worry about making a mess of things and losing his job. I’m terrified someone in work is going to realise that I’ve no business being in the Civil Service. That saying about “the higher you go the further you fall” could be prophetic where my career is concerned.’

  ‘I’ve never thought about it that way.’

  ‘Take my cousin, Tom. He has absolutely no ambition beyond his guitar and music. He, Jack Clay and a couple of the boys formed a skiffle group last year. They’ve got their first engagement on Saturday, a youth club dance in St James’s church hall, but Bill Haley and the Comets couldn’t be more pleased with a booking at the Albert Hall. I envy them their dreams of success.’

  �
�I haven’t got anything besides work either. This was my big chance to get out of the café and I messed it up.’

  ‘There’ll be other interviews.’

  ‘There won’t, because that’s the last job I’m applying for. I won’t risk going through another experience like that again.’

  ‘What on earth did this man say to you that was so horrible?’

  ‘That I had no experience.’

  ‘Well, you haven’t, have you?’

  ‘There was no need for him to say it the way he did. As if all I’m good for is café work.’

  ‘I’m sure he didn’t mean it that way, Katie. He was probably looking for someone who was used to working in an office because they don’t have time to train you in the things that can’t be taught in night school.’

  ‘Do you think so?’

  ‘I think there’s a right job waiting for everyone. You’ll find yourself an office job or it will find you, if that’s what you really want. Now drink your tea.’

  ‘After I’ve paid for it.’ She fumbled in her handbag.

  ‘My treat, if you’ll come out with me.’

  ‘Just the two of us?’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘I’d prefer to go out in a crowd.’

  ‘Brian’s asked Judy out. We could make it a foursome.’

  ‘I’d still have to ask Mrs Evans. I’m staying with her and Lily until my mother comes out of hospital.’

  ‘I’ll check with Brian, and there’s the dance on Saturday. I know it’s only a youth club, but Tom and the others can do with all the encouragement they can get. It would be great if you could get the other girls to go as well.’

  ‘I’m not sure about Helen but I’ll ask Lily and Judy.’

  ‘So, it’s true?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘That Helen’s parents have locked her up after Saturday.’

  ‘Knowing Helen, it won’t last long. Her father never stays angry with her for more than a day or two. No one does.’ There was a touch of envy in her voice.

  ‘I don’t know why, she’s not half as nice as you – or pretty,’ he added quietly, after checking George wasn’t in earshot.

  ‘Oh, yes, I’m really pretty with tears blotching my make-up and a swollen ankle.’

  ‘I don’t say things I don’t mean, Katie, Have you got time for another tea?’

  ‘I ought to go back to Auntie Norah’s. She’ll want to know how the interview went.’

  ‘I’ll walk you. If Brian’s in I’ll talk to him about fixing a date. Shall I call in on you afterwards?’

  ‘If you like.’ She hadn’t meant to sound quite so offhand but there was something about Adam Jordan – his blond good looks and quiet self-assurance – that made her uneasy and she couldn’t quite say why.

  Chapter Ten

  Norah was peeling potatoes in the kitchen when Katie hobbled in. She looked up, smiled, and when Katie didn’t return her smile or volunteer any information, she ventured, ‘How did it go?’

  ‘Terrible. They didn’t want me.’

  Drying her hands on her apron, Norah picked up the kettle and filled it. ‘I’m sure they didn’t say that to your face, Katie.’

  ‘They said they’ll let me know.’

  ‘It couldn’t have been that terrible. You were gone a long time, you must have a chance.’

  ‘I was gone a long time because my shoe broke. I twisted my ankle and bumped into Adam Jordan. He took me to the café down by the Albert Hall and they gave me a wet towel to bring the swelling down.’ Kicking off her broken shoe, she lifted her swollen foot.

  ‘That looks as though it needs an elastic bandage. Sit in the easy chair and rest your leg on this.’ Norah moved a kitchen chair in front of her.

  ‘The man who interviewed me practically told me I hadn’t got it because I’ve no experience.’

  ‘It’s your first interview, love,’ Norah murmured sympathetically from the depths of the cupboard where she was rummaging in the First Aid box. ‘It’s not so easy to get a job when you’re starting out and haven’t had a chance to prove yourself. Our Lily had to make three applications.’

  ‘She made three applications, but she still got the first job she interviewed for.’

  ‘And you’ll get the right job for you, you’ll see.’ Emerging with a roll of crepe bandage, Norah sat on the kitchen chair, gently drew Katie’s foot on to her lap and gingerly prodded the swollen joint. ‘This is a bad sprain, you’ll need to take it easy for a day or two.’

  ‘I have to work.’

  ‘Not tomorrow.’

  ‘They’ll dock me a day’s pay. Mam needs the money.’

  ‘Not in hospital.’

  ‘There’ll still be bills.’

  ‘Which are your father’s responsibility.’

  ‘Dad was right,’ Katie declared miserably. ‘Mam should never have spent all that money on shorthand typing lessons. I’m not going to get an office job in a million years. All I’ll ever be good for is washing dishes.’

  Wise enough to realise that anything she said would only make Katie feel worse, Norah finished bandaging the girl’s foot, washed her hands and set about making tea. She wasn’t so old that she couldn’t remember a time when assurances that everything would turn out well only seemed to make disappointments a hundred times worse.

  ‘I think we’ve covered everything, Miss Griffiths.’

  ‘Thank you, Mr Thomas, Mr Butler.’ Helen left her chair as Richard Thomas pressed the buzzer on his desk.

  ‘We’ll see you at eight thirty Monday morning.’ Richard eyed Helen from beneath his bushy eyebrows.

  ‘Yes, Mr Thomas. Thank you, Mr Thomas.’ Helen’s heart sank. For all his brusque, businesslike air there was something creepy about Richard Thomas. A touch of the ‘sneaky old grubby eyes’ as Judy had christened the middle-aged men who slyly watched them and other young girls changing on the beaches around Gower.

  He had scarcely allowed her to say a word. After a cursory glance at her certificates he had outlined her future duties, incidentally referring to his staff in an arrogant, derogatory way that suggested he had no compunction about bullying even the most senior of them.

  The door opened and Isabel Evans walked in.

  ‘Miss Evans will show you around the office, Miss Griffiths. Miss Griffiths starts with us next Monday as office junior, Miss Evans.’

  ‘Yes, Mr Thomas. Congratulations, Miss Griffiths.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Helen murmured.

  Accustomed to anticipating Mr Thomas’ wishes, Isabel held the door open. ‘If you’d come this way, please, Miss Griffiths.’ She stepped back so Helen could precede her down the corridor to the General Office and reception area.

  ‘Miss Mair Miles, our receptionist. Miss Miles, this is Miss Helen Griffiths. Miss Griffiths will be joining us on Monday as office junior. Miss Griffiths, Miss Cynthia Allen and Miss Belinda Jenkins, our secretaries ...’

  Helen’s grin almost became a grimace as the names of her prospective co-workers washed over her. There were a bewildering number of them, a receptionist, a telephonist, a senior secretary, two junior secretaries and a typist. Mr Butler nodded briefly to her as he walked through reception to the opposite end of the building. His smile was reserved for Isabel. Was it her imagination or did a pitying look pass between them. She wondered what had happened to the last office junior; she couldn’t help noticing that there wasn’t a secretary young enough to have been promoted recently from the position.

  ‘You’ve a job where?’

  ‘Thomas and Butler,’ Helen whispered hesitantly. After Sunday she had thought Esme couldn’t get any angrier, but her mother’s face was contorted – ugly in the intensity of her rage. ‘Dad did tell you ...’

  ‘He didn’t or I would have put a stop to it. Your father has absolutely no sense. And I wouldn’t count on starting work there if I were you. I don’t know what he was thinking of.’

  Confused, Helen charged upstairs.

  ‘More problems?�
� John asked, as he hobbled into the hall in time to hear Helen’s bedroom door slam.

  Esme turned furiously on him. ‘How dare you arrange for Helen to work in Thomas and Butler’s?’

  ‘I told you ...’

  ‘You most certainly did not.’

  ‘I did, and even if I didn’t mention their name they are a well-respected firm. They’re not only my solicitors. Your own mother ...’

  ‘Precisely,’ she broke in cuttingly. ‘Not only your solicitors but also my mother’s. Didn’t it occur to you that I wouldn’t want Helen working there?’

  ‘No.’ He shuffled over to the sofa. It was raining and on wet days his scars ached unbearably, not that he ever complained about the pain to Esme. He looked up at her. ‘Is there something you know about Thomas and Butler’s that I don’t?’ he asked quietly.

  ‘Of course not.’

  ‘Then why shouldn’t Helen work there?’

  Refusing to meet his eye, Esme fumbled with the cigarette box. She had never revealed the identity of Joseph’s father to John and wouldn’t have, even if he had asked outright. But he hadn’t, not when she’d announced she was pregnant shortly after their marriage, or on the day Joseph was born when simple arithmetic would have made it clear there was no way he could have fathered her son.

  Damn Helen for wanting a job and damn John for organising her one in the only office in Swansea she didn’t want Helen working in. But there was no way she could tell him the reason that lay behind her objections without betraying the secret she had kept for over twenty years.

  ‘Why, Esme?’ he repeated softly.

  ‘I would have thought it was obvious. Thomas and Butler deal with my mother’s affairs and Joseph’s trust fund.’

  ‘Helen’s starting as an office junior, not junior partner. Her duties will hardly include dealing with sensitive documents. Your family’s or anyone else’s.’

  ‘I suppose you think I’m overreacting.’ She forced herself to look at him. ‘Helen will be meeting the public. After what happened on Saturday she’ll be exposed to gossip of the worst possible kind.’

  ‘And the best way to deal with that is ride it out until it’s forgotten.’

  ‘I might have known you’d take that attitude.’