One Rainy Day (13 page)

‘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 instance, 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.’

‘How did you get on with him?’ Julie asked. ‘You’re a lucky blighter, you are. You got the best. I would rather have gone out with Peter, but you beat me to it.’

Poppy stopped in her tracks. ‘I did no such thing! I’ve never run after a feller in me life, and I’m not going to start now. Peter did all the running, not me.’ They had been friends since schooldays, but only now, looking at Julie’s pouting lips, did Poppy realize her friend had always wanted her own way, and would sulk if she didn’t get it. ‘I’ll tell you what I’ll do, Julie. If you think you’d have a chance with Peter, I’ll swap partners with you a few times and see if you can work your charm on him. I’ll have the first waltz with Jim. Okay?’

Julie’s smile was more of a smirk. She’d show Poppy she wasn’t the only one the blokes fell for. But she tried to play
down her excitement. ‘Yeah, if that’s what yer want. It doesn’t bother me who I dance with.’

As soon as the pair walked into the dance hall, Peter left the friend he was talking to and made a beeline for the girl he thought the most beautiful he’d ever seen. And the nice thing about her was she didn’t realize the effect she had on men. On him, anyway, and he couldn’t help noticing the way all the blokes looked at her. He took her arm. ‘You’re a little late. I was beginning to think you were going to stand me up.’

‘I don’t stand blokes up, Peter. If I don’t want to go out with them I tell them straight.’ Poppy stepped back a little so Julie could join them. ‘I think you know my friend Julie?’

Peter nodded. ‘Hello, Julie.’ His eyes returned quickly to Poppy. ‘Come on, let’s dance. This slow foxtrot is my favourite, and it’s nearly over.’

‘I can’t dance with my bag over my arm. Give me a chance to put it down.’

‘Here, give it to me,’ Julie said. ‘I’ll put it under a chair with mine.’

Poppy was already in Peter’s arms on the dance floor when she said, ‘Here’s Jim coming, Julie, and he looks eager. You said he was a good dancer, so put a smile on your face.’

Peter was a wonderful dancer, and it was a pleasure to be led by him. Long sweeping strides, body swaying to the music, and footwork quick and in perfect time. Poppy was enjoying herself, for she too was an excellent dancer. She was blessed with a sense of rhythm, was light on her feet, and being led close to her partner, she never faltered. They were a well-matched couple, and the envy of many on the floor who were not so accomplished.

When the music faded, Peter took Poppy’s hand and led
her off the floor. ‘Tonight is the first time I’ve ever met a date inside the dance hall, and it will be the last. Never again, Poppy, not even for you. Let your friend do what she wants, but she’ll not spoil my date again.’

Poppy’s eyes sparkled with laughter. ‘You are being very optimistic, Peter. Who said there was going to be another date?’

‘You wouldn’t break my heart, would you, Poppy? Of course you wouldn’t. You’re too nice to go around breaking hearts.’

Poppy was about to answer when she saw Julie coming towards them, followed by Jim. ‘Here’s my friend coming now, Peter, and I want you to do me a favour. I’ll say it quickly and explain later. To please me, ask her for the next waltz and I’ll dance with the bloke she’s with. Please?’

The next dance, by coincidence, was a waltz, and Poppy made eyes at Peter. He didn’t look very happy, but he made Julie more than happy when he asked her to dance. However, it had to be said that the happiest person by far was Jim. He was quite shy, and couldn’t quite pluck up the courage to ask the best-looking girl in the hall if she would do him the honour. So Poppy did it for him. ‘Come on, Jim, we can’t stand here like wallflowers. Let’s show them how it’s done.’

Poppy enjoyed the waltz, and she liked Jim. He was a nice bloke, not as good a dancer as Peter, but better than most. And he talked and laughed, certainly not as dull as Julie made him out to be. In fact, Poppy reached the conclusion he was too good for her friend.

Peter wasn’t enjoying the partnership at all. Julie wasn’t a bad dancer, but they did more walking around the floor than actual dancing. He found himself uncomfortable with her, as she pouted her lips, fluttered her eyelashes and held him too close to be comfortable or respectable. He was glad when the
dance came to an end. It had not been a pleasant experience.

The next dance was a tango, and although Julie looked hopeful and told them it was her very favourite dance, Peter looked through her as he led Poppy on to the floor. ‘Did you not tell me that Julie was your very best friend?’

Poppy nodded. ‘At school, yes, she was. Why?’

‘Some friend she is, Poppy. She’s a man-eater! Don’t ask me to dance with her again because I will flatly refuse.’

A smile and a delightful chuckle had Peter holding Poppy close. ‘Why did you put me through that ordeal, you little minx? Was I set up by the two of you?’

Poppy was serious now. ‘I would never do that, Peter, and I’m sorry. She was talking in the cloakroom about something I’ve no intention of repeating, but I don’t regret asking you to dance with her, for now I can see her for what she really is. I should have seen it years ago, but I didn’t. She’s vain, jealous, and selfish. I hope Jim sees through her before he gets hurt. He’s far too good for her.’

‘Thank heaven you’ve seen sense,’ Peter said. ‘Now I can have you to myself and not share you with a friend who isn’t a friend. I can make a proper date with you if you’ll come out with me again. Please say you will.’