A New Dream, Maggie Ford [books to read romance txt] 📗

What was there now for him? He couldn’t blame Julia, she was trying to do her best, but he desperately needed to blame someone.

Eight

July already. It had sounded so easy, saying they must all find work and start bringing in money. In practice it was proving nigh impossible.

First there had been a strong protest from her mother, protective of her youngest daughter, in support of Virginia.

‘Julia, how can a child from a nice school and not yet fifteen go on her own to seek employment? She has no idea. You must go with her.’

None of us has any idea, Julia thought, but she consented to accompany Virginia in answer to the newspaper advertisement for a school leaver to fill the position of office junior in a small company.

‘I’m scared,’ Virginia whispered as they entered the building where several small companies apparently operated.

Julia pressed the girl’s hand with her own. ‘You’ll be fine,’ she whispered back, tapping firmly on the frosted-glass door to the company’s reception office on the ground floor. ‘I’ll be with you.’

A young woman opened the door. ‘Yes?’ she enquired abruptly.

‘We’ve come about the advert for an office junior,’ Julia supplied.

‘Come in.’ The woman opened the door wider for them, indicating a row of seven chairs fining one wall. Four were occupied by young, anxious-faced girls around Virginia’s age, the other three were vacant.

‘Take a seat,’ she told them. ‘Mr Green, the recruiting manager, sees each candidate in turn, so you may have to wait some time. And no talking, please.’

The tone of cold efficiency alarmed even Julia and she glanced at Virginia as they sat down obediently. Virginia’s face was pitiful.

‘It’s all right,’ Julia whispered encouragingly and took hold of the cold, trembling hand. She would have given anything to be able to erase the past few weeks; for them not to have to be here.

To take her mind off Virginia’s distress she turned to look at the other waiting girls, casting a small smile in their direction which all four ignored.

The door to an inner room opened suddenly, startling her. She felt Virginia jump. A rather drab, poorly dressed girl, looking hardly more than a child, came out, her expression a picture of forlorn hope well and truly dashed. Without looking at anyone, without even a thank you to the painfully efficient secretary now seated at her desk, she left by the frosted-glass door, closing it quietly behind her. The secretary, half hidden by an enormous, black typewriter, hadn’t even looked up.

‘Next!’ she said, still without glancing up. ‘Knock before you enter.’

The girl at the head of the row got to her feet and, walking hesitantly to the recruiting manager’s door, knocked timidly.

‘Come!’ ordered a deep voice from within, muffled by the closed door.

Obediently the girl did as ordered, closing the door behind her. As if by some silent command, the next girl moved to the now vacated chair, the rest moving up accordingly. The secretary went on with whatever she was doing in the reception office, the quivering silence broken only by the occasional faint rustle of paper from her desk and, every now and again, a timid knock on the glass door to announce another applicant.

Julia smiled down at her sister encouragingly.

It was nearly an hour before Virginia’s turn came. She looked up at Julia as the secretary muttered, ‘Next!’

‘You’re coming in with me?’ she pleaded.

‘Just the young lady,’ said the secretary.

‘I’ll be out here, waiting,’ Julia encouraged. ‘Don’t worry, dear, it’ll be over before you know it.’

She truly believed this. None of the other young applicants had taken long and none had come out looking very hopeful, so what chance did Virginia have, cosseted at home and at her private girls’ school? The chances were that this fruitless exercise would be repeated over and over again until Virginia finally found a menial cleaning job, if she was lucky.

One thing in her favour though, Julia thought hopefully as her little sister disappeared into the great man’s office, was that unlike any of the previous applicants, Virginia was wearing a good-quality skirt, blouse and jacket, a nice little hat, stockings and good shoes, purchased some while ago from West End department stores such as Peter Robinson’s and Selfridges, in the days when they could afford to shop there.

Julia’s mind returned to the now closed office door behind which her small sister was undergoing a trauma of interrogation. Her own insides were tightening up for her. But she had primed the girl very carefully.

‘Tell him who you are. Speak up, the way you were taught at school. Remember, you are a lady. Don’t dwell on the fact that you’ve lost your father and we have come down in the world. Don’t apologize for where you live. Give him to understand that it is a respectable, comfortable, well-appointed flat. Above all, don’t let him see we’ve hardly any money. Be courteous but hold your head up high, look him in the face. You have your pride, remember.’

Virginia had nodded and Julia could only trust that she’d remember to sit with a straight back and not hang her head or appear as nervous as Julia knew she felt. She prayed the girl would stand her ground and not show herself up. Julia had noticed the secretary glance up once or twice in Virginia’s direction, her expression one of curiosity and guarded appraisal. Perhaps that was a good sign. Though, with so many more young hopefuls still arriving, Virginia’s chances seemed to be dwindling.

Julia stood up as Virginia reappeared, already trying to read the girl’s expression. To her relief it seemed composed, if a little dazed. ‘How did it go?’ she questioned as they emerged from the building on to Leadenhall Street, noisy with traffic at midday and sounding extra loud after the oppressive silence of the reception office.

‘I don’t really know,’ Virginia answered in a tiny, distracted voice. ‘I don’t remember a lot about it.’

‘What did he ask you?’

‘I can’t remember.’

Julia felt her patience wearing thin. ‘You