Sister's Trio Squad

Chapter 42

Chapter 42

She was at a loss for words. She didn't like to refuse the invitation, yet all she wanted was to speak to someone in the department. She wanted a job, not afternoon tea. But she nodded.

'We'll walk, it's often quicker than the lift.'

She followed him as they crossed the floor and descended a wide flight of stairs. He seemed far more confident in these surroundings, she thought. He nodded and exchanged a few words with other members of staff who passed by. At the bottom of the stairs was a large, circular area cordoned off from the staircase and furnished with small tables and fragile-looking chairs. Potted shrubs were tastefully arranged around the room and in one corner a small orchestra played soft chamber music. As he guided her towards a table, Lisa wondered why he came to Craig's when this was so much more luxurious.

When the waitress arrived, in a brown dress and cream cap and apron he ordered two cream teas.

"Thank you, Mr Duncan, Sir,' the girl replied. 'Is she a friend of yours?' she ventured.

'No. I have a confession to make to you. I overheard you yesterday asking about a vacancy here.'

She blushed and looked away. If he'd heard that then he must have heard the reply. 'It wasn't very kind of them, was it, to suggest the

Packing Department, but I'm afraid those three are not particularly nice girls.' 'I don't suppose they meant to be nasty.' The teas arrived. A bone-china teapot, china cups with

gold rims and the letters C & L intertwined in gold around

the rims and a plate of scones, with fresh cream and jam in

silver pots, were all placed deftly on the table. 'Don't you like working for Mrs Craig?' He asked, pouring the tea and studying her. Of course, he didn't know her that well, but she seemed a quiet, sincere girl and one of the few with whom he felt at ease. He'd heard her ask about a job and heard the reply and he'd felt sorry for her. She didn't deserve such treatment. Those three were the epitome of everything he disliked about most women. By nature he was quiet and rather retiring and he'd always shied away from anything violent, coarse or crude. Many of the girls he'd come in contact with fell into the latter categories. Their forward behaviour, the sly innuendoes, their malicious tongues filled him with repugnance and the fear that such characteristics would be used against him. Miss O'Maxwell was different. He realized that she was speaking.

'I do like working for Mrs Craig, but I've already told you why I want to leave and, after all, I do know quite a lot about clothing, the sewing and making-up, things like that.'

He made up his mind. 'I don't usually do this sort of thing, Miss O'Maxwell, but I have watched you work and with your honesty and that reference, I'll do my best for you. Business is always brisk at this time of year. Would you like to wait and finish your tea?"

She stared hard at him. Who was he? 'May I ask Tan Duncan and I'm a Departmental Manager, here. your name?"

Actually I'm the Head of Department for Gentlemen's

Outfitting.' Oh, surely someone in Heaven was watching over her today, she thought as she watched him walk away. If he couldn't get her a job here then no one could! He had overheard her and he had probably deliberately given her that florin to test her. The reason why he nearly always sat alone became clear. Someone in his position wouldn't mix with ordinary sales assistants. She drank the tea without tasting it and the scones remained untouched.

It couldn't be this easy, it just couldn't! But then she'd often heard Archie say that the 'gaffers' always stuck together and helped each other and that it wasn't what you knew, but who you knew that counted. She'd never imagined that anyone like him would take an interest in her. Enough to help her anyway. Another thought struck her. He had to have a reason - what would he expect from her in return? Everyone knew that Jeannie MacBride, the Supervisor at MacFarlane's, had got her position by 'carrying on' as Bernie put it, with Robbie Frazer, the Under Manager. What if he expected her to reciprocate in a similar way?

She saw him coming back and stood up. She'd have to make it clear that anything like that was out of the question, even if it meant losing this chance.

'I've had a word with Miss Whyte, she's the Manageress of the Inexpensive Gowns Department, and she'll see

you.' "Thank you, but...'

'But what?'

Lisa just didn't know how to say it without sounding terribly offensive and insensitive. 'Nothing... thank you." As she followed him she felt despondent. She'd lost her chance to put the matter straight all because she was too afraid to come right out and say what she thought. Now she'd be in his debt. Mr Duncan ushered her into a small room, not unlike

Gladys Drinkwater's office, where a tall woman stood behind a desk. Lisa turned towards him apprehen sively. I'll leave you in Miss Whyte's capable hands. Goodbye,

Miss O'Maxwell."

'Goodbye and thank you. The door closed and Miss Whyte sat down and motioned her to do the same. She sat on a straight-backed wooden chair facing the woman. She was about as old as Mrs Craig, she judged, and was of a similar build but there the similarity ended. Miss Whyte had a fresh complexion and piercing blue eyes. Her hair was a salt and pepper colour and was worn in an old-fashioned, no-nonsense style. But she was smiling. Lisa smiled back nervously. 'I believe you have a very good reference, Miss O'Don

nell. May I see it?' Again the letter was produced and carefully read. 'And what have you been doing since you left Ireland?" I'm employed as a waitress at Craig's Tea Rooms.'

'Have you worked there ever since you came to Glasgow?" 'No.' Lisa looked down at her hands. Miss Whyte would know all the clothing manufacturers and she would know that MacFarlane's was in the heart of the Gorbals. There was no point lying. She looked up. 'When I first came here I took the first job that was offered to me. I knew no one, except a girl I was at school with in Ireland. I worked as a machinist at MacFarlane's." She waited for the expression to change. For the smile

to turn to a frown. "Then you will know all about the manufacturing pro cess, which is helpful. Can you sew by hand?'

'Yes, Ma'am.'

'Good. We also do alterations here. Do you live in the Gorbals?'

Lisa's heart sank, but she nodded firmly. "That is another reason why I want a good job. I hate it and I'm trying to get out."

Miss Whyte's gaze was steady. 'It's very easy to condemn everyone who lives there as thieves and blackguards, but I know full well that there are decent people, forced by circumstances, to live there. My own parents spent their early life there." 'I see."

So, Miss O'Maxwell, I'm not prejudging you. It doesn't matter to me where you live or where you come from or even what your religion is, just as long as you work well and have the good name of the firm at heart. This is a very prestigious store and our aim is to keep it that way. Our reputation is very precious to us - all of us. Nothing else matters.

'I understand that, Ma'am." 'Good. Then I can start you as a Sales Assistant and

Alteration Hand at a wage of eighteen shillings a week. We also provide you with a uniform, a brown skirt and cream blouse, which we expect you to keep neat and clean at all times. We do not allow jewellery, make up, hair decorations, coloured shoes or fancy stockings." Lisa just stared at her in astonishment, unable to

believe her ears. 'Will you need to give Mrs Craig notice?" 'Oh, yes! A week, I believe. Oh, thank you, Ma'am. I

can't tell you how much I appreciate this." 'Actions speak louder than words, Miss O'Maxwell. All you have to do to prove your appreciation is to work hard and give first-class service to the customer.

'Oh, I will, Ma'am, I will!' "Then I will see you in a week's time. We open at nine sharp, but you will be expected to be here by eight-thirty to make sure your counters are dusted and tidied and stocked, but we'll talk more about that when you start.' Miss Whyte rose and extended her hand.

Lisa shook it. 'May I have a look round before I leave, just to see where things are?" 'Of course. For the moment you are a potential customer.

You may browse to your heart's content."

As she wandered through the department, noting the types of dresses, the materials used and their prices, Lisa could not believe her luck. She would go straight over and tell Mrs Craig; that would only be fair. She wasn't looking forward to telling her, but she had think of herself. Perhaps one day she would go to Craig's as a customer. It was a novel thought and one that made her want to dance down the carpeted staircase. Instead she restrained herself to a sedate descent. She'd done it! Oh, it was a wonderful feeling to know that you'd got what you'd always yearned for. Now she knew what Nancy must feel. Wait until she told Bernie! Oh, she'd soon be able to get out of the Gorbals. Eighteen shillings a week. She would be able to rent somewhere clean and quiet for about nine or ten shillings. As soon as she got home she'd write to Margaret and Ma and Nancy! to

Mrs Craig had been very upset. 'Oh, Lisa, how am

I going to manage without you? I had such high hopes

for you.

'I'm sorry, Mrs Craig, you've been very good to me and I have enjoyed working here.' Lisa felt so guilty.

'What if I offered you another two shillings a week? That made her feel worse. 'I'm sorry, but it wouldn't make any difference to how I feel. You see, it's what I've always wanted. It's what I left Ireland for. The chance of

a career in a shop like that." 'I can see that you have made up your mind. Well, good luck to you, Lisa.'

'I'll work my week's notice, so that you can get a replace

ment. I wouldn't leave you short-handed.'

Mrs Craig sighed deeply. I suppose it's back to the agency and a string of replacements until I find one that suits.' Impulsively, Lisa had leaned over and kissed her on

the cheek. You'll find someone soon, I know you will.' Then she'd had a bright idea. In fact, I know someone who would jump at the opportunity.'

'You do?'

Yes. She has experience of working in a bakery, not serving unfortunately, but she would learn quickly and she's quiet and honest and trustworthy. She's younger than I am but maybe that would be better. You could train her and I'm certain she would stay with you for years.

'Who is this paragon?'

'Eileen Dalrymple. She is the sister of my friend's fiancé. Shall I bring her with me tomorrow?' 'Yes, bring her along, and we will see.'