A New Dream by Maggie Ford (world of reading .TXT) 📕

disliked his shop – for his she took it to be – she didn’t want to appear rude.

‘We re settling in,’ she returned evasively, glad that her eyes and the top half of her face were pretty much hidden from him by the low-brimmed, mushroom-shaped hat bought last winter when life was sweeter. She was also suddenly conscious of the dress she was wearing – last summer’s design. In voile, it felt uncomfortably flimsy before his gaze.

Now she wanted only to get away before he began asking questions she didn’t wish to answer. But to her dismay he came forward, his hand outstretched.

‘Welcome to the neighbourhood. I’m Simon Layzell.’ It was the same name as the one above the shop; so he did own it.

‘Pleased to meet you,’ she responded negatively.

Obliged to take the offered hand, if only finger tips, she let her own fall quickly away. It wouldn’t do to get too familiar, yet what she saw in front of her was quite different from what she’d expected. This man was tall, slim and decently dressed, not at all the shabby person she’d imagined as owning the shop.

Reluctant to be drawn into any further conversation, she said as politely as she could, ‘I have to hurry off,’ adding by way of excuse, ‘We’re out of bread. My brother and sister had their breakfast and left only one slice and a topper for my mother, my other sister and myself.’

He frowned slightly. ‘Five of you in that small flat…’ he began but – she interrupted him before he could ask where her father was. She wasn’t prepared to air her business before a virtual stranger.

‘I must go,’ she said.

‘Yes,’ he apologized. ‘I hope it won’t be too long before we meet again.’

She moved off, embarrassed to find herself thinking how nice-looking he was, well-spoken and indeed well-mannered.

She was also aware that she hoped to see him again, though for business rather than personal reasons. It had occurred to her as they were talking that his shop did not appear to be doing all that well and, as she turned into Bethnal Green Road, now growing busy with early-morning workers, questions began to fill her head.

How long had he had the place? Did he own or rent it? With so few people ever in the shop as far as she could assess, did it actually pay its way? If not, had he ever considered closing it? In that case, it would make very good premises in which to start up some sort of business or warehouse. Her mind hovered around the pile of material cluttering up their living room; But could they afford whatever initial rent would be asked? And even then, could they keep up the payments? The next minute she was deriding herself for such thoughts. There was no way she would find money enough to buy or even rent such premises, run down or not.

Turning into the bakery, she fished in her purse for a couple of pennies to buy a small loaf, her mind only half on what she was doing.

Nine

Virginia’s eyes were shining as she came into the flat to throw her handbag and hat on to the sofa. She’d become a different girl from the one who a couple of months earlier had timidly entered Mr Green’s office.

‘Mr Green says I’m getting on really well,’ she announced excitedly as she rushed into the kitchen to return with a cup of cold water from the single tap over the sink. ‘Gosh, it’s hot out!’ She drained the cup in one gulp. ‘Mr Green says that if I continue the way I’m going, he’ll suggest promoting me to their post room.’

So far she was little more than a general dogsbody and tea girl. ‘Mr Green says he’ll speak to Mr Griffiths, our managing director about it.’

Plonking the empty cup on to the little dining table she turned back to her mother and two sisters, and went on excitedly, ‘Mr Green says that if I continue to do well, I could be promoted to a proper department by the end of the year and given a rise.’

At last she paused for breath, allowing Julia a chance to get in a word. ‘I’m so glad for you, Ginny,’ she said, adopting the version of her name that Virginia’s office friends apparently now used. ‘We’re all very proud of you.’

She gazed towards her mother and Stephanie for agreement, but Stephanie’s lips had become a thin line and as their eyes met she turned and stalked off into the bedroom, closing the door with a sharp click to emphasize her feelings.

Their mother looked slightly taken aback by her daughter’s apparent show of pique. ‘Oh dear, that was really unwarranted. What is the matter with her? I would have thought she would be pleased for Virginia.’

‘I know, Mummy,’ Julia soothed, seeing Ginny’s previously joyous expression change. ‘She might feel a little resentful. You can’t blame her.’

Stephanie still hadn’t found a job. At least, she had found one three weeks ago, but had walked out after a few days, declaring it entirely unsuitable for a young lady and that she was being put upon. As far as Julia was concerned her excuse was totally unjustifiable with so many crying out for work, any work, to put bread on the table.

She had come home in a raging temper to bounce past her mother and Julia and on into the bedroom, her favourite place for sulking, saying as she went, ‘I’m not a damn dogsbody for some prig of a boss who thinks he can say what he likes to me.’

‘I thought you said it was a good job,’ Julia said, following her in.

‘Well, it turned out not to be,’ was Stephanie’s reply.

‘Why?’

‘Because I’m not going to be treated like a dish rag, expected to wash up everyone’s cups. I’m worth more than that. I thought I was going to be in charge of a counter.’

‘Give it time,’ Julia tried to reason, but there