by Anne Douglas
‘Hoped I might see you!’ he cried. ‘How’d you get on?’
‘Miss Dollar, this is Mr MacVail, a projectionist,’ Jess answered. ‘Mr MacVail, meet Miss Dollar – my new boss.’
‘You got the job? That’s wonderful. Congratulations! Miss Dollar, it’s good to meet you. Hope I’ll be lucky enough to meet you again.’
‘You don’t know how you got on?’ Jess asked sympathetically.
He shook his head ruefully. ‘Been asked to wait.’
‘At least they didn’t say they’d let you know.’
‘No, but there are plenty of other guys around. Just have to hope for the best. Can I get you ladies a coffee or anything?’
When Jess explained that she had to go back to work, he sighed and said he wished he could have walked her on her way, but after polite farewells left for the cafe, Sally staring after him.
‘What a nice laddie, eh?’ she whispered. ‘Let’s hope Ben Daniel gives him the job. Goodbye, then, Jess, I’ll see you Monday week. As you know, we don’t usually work mornings, as we’ve to do late shifts, but if you come in about ten, I can go through things with you before we open. That all right?’
‘Oh, yes, fine. Thanks for everything, Miss Dollar . . . I mean, Sally.’ As she hurried to the door, Jess looked back and smiled. ‘See you Monday week!’
By the time she’d announced her news at Dobson’s, put in her notice and received congratulations mixed with groans from the manager and her colleagues, she was climbing over the moon again, all her little symptoms of shock melting away. It had been a good place to work, Dobson’s, and she’d been grateful for the experience of being there, but it was right that she should be moving on now. To somewhere special.
The Princes Street Picture House, here I come! she thought, looking forward with pleasure to telling of her success to her family when they all met at home in the evening.
‘Knew you’d get it,’ Marguerite remarked. ‘Is my suit all right?’
‘Perfect. Never spilled a thing.’
‘Still canna make you out, Jess,’ her mother said thoughtfully. ‘Know what I think? You’re just star-struck. Just want to be near those picture folk, eh? Won’t be in the starlight in the box office, though.’
‘Oh, yes I will!’ cried Jess.
Six
Monday week. Well, it came at last, though her last week at Dobson’s had seemed a long week to Jess. And then, at the end, there’d been all the embarrassment of the leave-taking and the leaving present – a writing case – to exclaim over, as well as the promises to meet up, the jokes about free tickets at the Princes, the dashed away tears, as she walked out of Dobson’s for the last time.
‘All good things come to an end,’ Addie said later. ‘What you have to do, is make sure you’ve got something just as good to go to.’
‘Exactly,’ Jess retorted. ‘Something like the Princes Street Picture House.’
‘At five bob less a week,’ Marguerite reminded. ‘Still, I think I do agree that it’d be a lovely place to work. A cut above most cinemas round here.’
‘There you are, Ma!’ Jess cried triumphantly. ‘Marguerite agrees with me.’
‘Just as long as you don’t expect me to lend you my suit again to go to work. Once was quite enough.’
‘No need to worry, I’ll be wearing my own clothes now,’ Jess said loftily. ‘I know what’ll look right.’
And on Monday week, Jess spent no time agonizing over what to wear, but appeared at the Princes on that first morning looking coolly attractive in a pale green blouse and patterned skirt. The day was hot and dry, and Sally Dollar, when she greeted Jess in the vestibule, was already feeling the heat, dabbing at her brow with cologne and saying she must go on a diet, she was far too plump for weather like this.
‘Awful weather, anyway, eh?’
‘Awful?’
‘For going to the pictures, Jess! Folk don’t want to be inside when it’s nice!’
‘But it’s Jezebel this week – with Bette Davis and Henry Fonda.’
‘Aye, might attract a few in for them, but we’ve no’ got the air conditioning, you see.’ Sally shook her bleached head. ‘But we’ll just see how things go. I’ll let you off at five today, anyway, seeing as it’s your first day and you’ll be tired.’
‘Tired? I’m sure I won’t be.’
‘Well, there’s a lot to take in all at once. There’s no need for you to stay – as I say, I shouldn’t think it’ll be busy. Probably won’t even need Fred to control the queues, as there won’t be any queues.’
‘Fred?’
‘Fred Boyle, our man-of-all-work, dear. I’ll introduce you. Does handyman jobs around the place by day, doubles as commissionaire for opening time.’
‘When he controls the queues?’ Jess laughed a little. ‘Do they need controlling?’
Sally shrugged. ‘Depends who’s in ’em. This being what you might call a superior cinema, we don’t often get the roughs, but sometimes folk start complaining if they can’t get in when they want to, and then there’s trouble.
‘Think I’ll be glad we have Fred, then.’
‘Aye, it’s amazing how people will take notice of a man when they’ll just ignore a woman. Gets me, that does.’
‘Men are stronger, that’s all.’
‘Women should still have some authority. But we’d best get on, Jess. I’ll show you how to do the tickets first. Oops, here comes Mr Hawthorne – looks like he’s off somewhere.’
The manager, wearing a dark suit that looked too heavy for the day, was carrying his hat and a briefcase and obviously feeling the heat as much as Sally.
‘Morning, ladies,’ he said, puffing a little. ‘I’m just off to Glasgow – got a meeting with the owners. Thought I’d just wish you well, Jess. You’ll be in good hands with Sally here.’
As Jess murmured her thanks, Sally said she’d be fine and walked with Mr Hawthorne to the entrance doors.
‘Don’t you go running for your train,’ she told him. ‘There’ll be plenty of others, remember.’
‘I guess you’ve been talking to my wife,’ he muttered, putting on his hat. ‘But in this business, you don’t keep the owners waiting. ‘Bye, then. I won’t be back till late.’
‘The Princes will still be here.’
‘Who are the owners?’ Jess asked, when the manager had hurried on his way and Sally had returned to the box office.
‘A Glasgow firm – John Syme’s – owns half a dozen cinemas at least. But George needn’t worry about upsetting ’em. They know this one’s the best.’
‘Never thought about cinemas having owners before,’ Jess said with interest.
‘Thought they just “growed”?’ Sally smiled, dabbing again at her brow. ‘No, obviously, owners are very important people, but Syme’s will never let the Princes go under. It’s too grand for that.’
With Sally a good teacher and Jess an apt pupil, the work of going through the box office routines moved swiftly by.
‘You’re quick to learn,’ Sally observed, ‘and I can see you’re used to balancing cash and all that sort of thing. No’ like poor Norma, who was here before you. Oh dear, she was a lovely girl, but got into such muddles sometimes. I was always having to sort her out! But I’ll no’ have any worries leaving you on your own.’
‘What next, then?’ Jess asked, pleased that she was doing well. So far, at least. Hadn’t sold a ticket yet, though.
‘Well, you’ve got the ticket prices sorted out, and where all the different sections are? Front stalls, ninepence, back stalls, a shilling. Back circle, one and six, front circle, half a crown, children half price except for matinees. Threepence reduction for adults at the matinees for the front stalls, sixpence off the rest.’
‘Oh, I know all about the reductions!’ Jess said with a laugh. ‘Paid ’em often enough. Never sat in the circle, though.’
‘Take a peep at Jezebel up there this afternoon, then,’ Sally told her. ‘Go on, have a treat for your first day, eh?
Now, I think we’ve just got time to nip along to the projection room to meet Ben Daniel. Oh, yes, and that nice young guy we saw the other day. Ben’s showing him the ropes, so we’ll no’ stay long.’
‘Rusty MacVail got the job? Oh, that’s nice.’
‘Aye, much the best candidate, Ben said. From England, you know, but I think his dad’s Scottish. Come on, let’s get along before we have a bit of lunch. The usherettes will be here by one.’
The projection room, separated from the auditorium by a specially built wall, appeared cramped to Jess with the projector taking up most of the space. Rather stuffy, too, in spite of the ventilation that had been put in to replace the windows that were not allowed.
‘Natural light – very damaging to the film,’ Sally had explained on their way. ‘Always plenty of problems with the projection department, eh? Fire risks and all. That’s why they have to be separated from the circle.’
‘Fire risks?’ Jess repeated, her eyes widening.
‘No need to worry. Everybody’s very careful. It’s just that there’s a lot of flammable material around, and it can get pretty hot in the box, as they call it.’
No wonder the two projectionists were in shirtsleeves, Jess thought, as she and Sally entered their ‘box’. And then she smiled, because one was Rusty.
‘Jess!’ he cried, leaping forward to shake her hand. ‘I was wondering when I’d get to see you!’
‘I was so pleased to hear you’d got the job,’ she murmured, aware as she let Rusty’s hand go that the black-haired man next to him was looking like a thunder cloud.
‘Oh, for God’s sake, Sally, what’s up?’ he snapped. ‘I’m in the middle of showing my new chap around.’
‘Temper, temper, Ben,’ Sally replied easily. ‘We’re no’ staying. But I’m showing my new assistant round as well, and I thought she should meet you.’
‘Oh.’ His gaze went to Jess and seemed very slightly to soften, but so dark were his eyes – brown, almost black – it wasn’t easy to tell. When he spoke, though, his voice seemed to have lost his irritation. ‘And this is?’
‘Jess Raeburn,’ Sally told him. ‘She’s Norma’s replacement at the box office. Jess, meet Ben Daniel, head projectionist.’
Tall – almost as tall as Rusty, but slim, rather than thin – Ben Daniel reminded Jess of someone she couldn’t exactly place. The long face with the high cheekbones and distinctly marked dark brows, the deep-set eyes – yes, they were familiar. And the stern look – who had a look like that? Hadn’t someone said, ‘He’s gorgeous, too – so stern!’
Of course – Henry Fonda!
As she and Ben Daniel formally shook hands, Jess found herself blushing. Oh, what a piece of nonsense, eh? Thinking Rusty’s boss was like a film star. She was relieved when Sally said they must be on their way, they’d to have a quick sandwich before the girls arrived and it was matinee time.
‘Seeing your first customers, eh?’ Ben Daniel asked Jess with a smile. ‘Or patrons, as our Mr H likes us to call ’em.’
‘Patrons!’ Sally echoed, shepherding Jess away. But Rusty was at the door.
‘Good luck, Jess – shall we meet later?’
‘She’s got a lot on today,’ Sally said firmly. ‘Thanks, Ben! Jess, come on, then.’
‘Goodbye, Rusty!’ Jess called. ‘Goodbye, Mr Daniel.’
‘Call me Ben!’ he cried after her. ‘I’ll show you round when we can fix it up.’
In the small staffroom where there were lockers and pegs and a washroom, Sally put on the kettle and opened up a packed lunch.
‘I meant to tell you to bring a sandwich,’ she told Jess, setting out cups. ‘But I’ve brought enough for two, anyway. Can’t afford to eat at the cafe every day, eh? Of course, when you start at one o’clock, you can have something at home, anyway.’
‘Feel bad, taking your lunch, Sally.’
‘No, I told you, there’s enough here for both of us. I should be cutting down anyway! What’ll you have – cheese and chutney or ham?’
‘So glad Rusty got the job,’ Jess remarked, choosing cheese and chutney. ‘Wonder how he’ll get on with Mr Daniel, though?’
‘Now, he told you to call him Ben!’ Sally made tea and poured it out. ‘Och, he’s no’ so bad. A bit tetchy at times, but then he’s got a lot of responsibility. If things go wrong in the projection room, that’s it – no picture!’
‘What’s his wife like, then? Another Mrs Hawthorne, forever worrying?’
‘He’s no’ married. Escaped so far, anyway, and he was thirty last birthday. Plenty of girls after him, of course. Some think he looks like Tyrone Power.’
‘Tyrone Power?’ Jess frowned, as she considered a mental picture of another handsome, dark-haired actor. ‘I suppose he has a look of him. Maybe seems more serious.’
‘That’s what draws the girls,’ Sally said lightly, then, as Jess raised her eyebrows, vehemently shook her head.
‘Hey, don’t look at me! I’m no’ chasing after Ben Daniel. I’ve got my own laddie and he’s all I want. You’ll meet my Arnold soon enough – he’s always dropping in. Works in an office up the Mound.’ Sally passed Jess an apple. ‘How about you, then? Anyone special?’
‘No one at all.’
‘Think you’ve got an admirer here, though.’
‘Who?’
‘Why, Rusty, of course! Talk about sheep’s eyes!’
‘Sally, we’ve only just met.’
‘Needn’t take long, to know what you feel.’
‘Well, I don’t feel anything.’ Jess crunched her apple. ‘I’ve enough on my plate, learning a new job.’
‘The way you’re going, that won’t take long. Listen, I think that’s the girls coming in now.’
‘The usherettes?’
‘That’s right. Renie MacLeish and Edna Angus are on this afternoon. Then Faith Pringle’s swopping with Edna this evening. It’s a complicated timetable – comes of having to work such late nights. But we all get our time off – never worry about that!’
Jess replied that she wasn’t just then worrying about time off – only seeing the customers.
‘Never saw any at Dobson’s, you know. Only their bills of sale and accounts.’
‘Heavens, it’ll no’ take you five minutes to get used to seeing the – ahem – patrons!’ Sally told her. ‘Best part of the job, I say. Meeting people. I never think of ’em as just money in the till. Except, if they weren’t, we’d be out of a job. But here come the girls!’
Seven
‘Hello everybody!’ came the voices of the usherettes, who swept in to the staffroom, seeming immediately to form a crowd, though there were only two of them. But they were an exuberant pair, one dark – that was Renie – one fair – that was Edna – both rather pink in the face from hurrying from the tram stop and falling over tourists.
‘Och, you canna move for ’em!’ Renie cried, opening her locker and taking out her uniform. ‘At least they’ve got a nice day, eh? Sally, is this your new assistant, then? How d’you do, pet? I’m Renie MacLeish, this here’s Edna Angus, and number three – Faith Pringle – she’s no’ on till this evening.’
‘Welcome to the Prince’s Palace,’ Edna put in. ‘Hope you’ll be very happy. We are, Renie, eh?’
‘Aye, though I could’ve done without coming in to work on a day like this. I mean, you canna see the sun in a cinema!’
Cheerfully stepping out of their cotton dresses, the girls put on their blue uniforms and matching hats, elbowed each other out of the way to make up their lips at the one little mirror, and then said they were ready.
‘Opening time!’ sang Edna. ‘Where’s Fred, then?’
‘Come on, Jess,’ Sally said, putting their cups in the washroom sink. ‘Into battle!’
‘I’m ready,’ Jess muttered, feeling for all the world as though she really were going ‘over the top’. Have some sense, she told herself. All she was going to do was sell admission tickets to some strangers. Nothing to worry about. Why, on such a
lovely day, probably nobody’d come to the matinee, anyway.
‘Got a nice crowd out there,’ Fred Boyle, the lanky, grey-haired man-of-all-work remarked, as Sally and Jess took their places in the box office. ‘This your new assistant, Sally?’
‘I’m Jess Raeburn,’ Jess told him, shaking his large hard hand. ‘Glad to meet you, Mr Boyle.’
‘Fred’s the name. Anything you want, just ask me. I’ve got stores, you ken. Want me to let this lot in, Sally?’
‘Yes, please, it’s time. Now, Jess, here they come. Our patrons!’
Pushing back her hair, swallowing hard, Jess stationed herself, ready to face the couple at the head of the small queue that was advancing.
‘Two one and sixes, please,’ the man said, laying down coins.
‘Back circle?’ Jess asked. ‘Matinee price is only a shilling.’
‘That so? Our lucky day, then.’ The middle-aged man exchanging smiles with the woman with him, took back two sixpences. ‘Thanks for telling us.’
‘That’s quite all right, sir.’ Handing him his tickets, Jess gave a pleasant smile and darted a quick glance at Sally, standing near by. OK? she telegraphed, and OK, Sally returned. Whatever was I worrying about? Jess wondered, and facing back to her queue, cried out, ‘Next please!’
Everything continued to go so smoothly, and Sally was soon knocking Jess’s arm and telling her to run up to the circle to see something of the big picture.
‘Why not? You’ve been doing very well. No problems at all.’
‘Except for the woman who wanted an extra reduction for her little boy, because it was the matinee.’ Jess smiled. ‘But you sorted her out, in the nicest possible way.’
‘Aye, I’m always at my sweetest when I don’t do what folks want. I mean, what’s she expect? He’s already half price. And what’s he doing at a film like Jezebel, anyway? Should be taking him to Mickey Mouse, eh? Off you go, then, Jess.’
Entering the circle, hallowed place of the most expensive seats, Jess felt a child’s anxiety at being somewhere she shouldn’t. Oh, but she’d a right to be there now, a perfect right to one of the perks of the job, even if, just at that moment, she was on work time. Still, Sally had given her permission, as a treat, and she was a member of the cinema staff. That was the thing to remember.
