Across the Lagoon Read Free Page B

cheeks were still on fire and her eyes had an embarrassed brilliance about them as she gazed blindly ahead. She wouldn't want to go through that again! What an awful man! She could consider herself lucky that he hadn't accepted her for the job. There was no telling what she might have let herself in for if she had allowed herself to come under his iron hand.
    And imagine! Dragging her all the way out here, then calmly telling her she was too young for the job 1 Just because he was busy, she was supposed to know that he wanted someone at least a hundred years old!
    She fumed all the way to the station, but once on the train, amidst crested-blazered schoolchildren bouncing around the seats and flicking rulers at one another, she resolved smartirigly to put all thoughts of the detestable man out of her mind. She hoped his summer in Venice would be a wet one, that he would trip up into a canal or something. And she never wanted to hear the name Gray Barrett again.
     
    From the station she caught the bus into town. Walking up the side of the Common she saw her two young sisters tugging at a toy handcart up the path between the lawns. 'Hey, Carol!' they called, waving vigorously. 'Come and give us a pull!'
    'Not just now,' she smiled good-humouredly. 'I want to get home.'
    When she arrived her mother was hoovering the hall carpet. A duster round her head, her harassed though good-natured features dark with concentration, she looked up to shout over the din, 'How did the job- hunting go? I saw the paper by the phone.'
    'Oh, it was nothing much,' Carol called off-handedly. 'The man thought I was too young for the post.'
    'You'll have that trouble wherever you go.' Her mother switched off the electric current and set her lips knowingly. 'Seems to me there's nothing wrong with being a salesgirl.'
    'I have a feeling that's what I'll be doing again— being a salesgirl,' Carol said wryly. 'That's about all the towns got to offer.' She didn't say that this afternoon's ordeal had somewhat soured her ambitions to look for something out of the ordinary. She had no wish to repeat the experience. Comparing the gloom of Rowan House with her own bright sunny world since stepping off the bus, she had, still nursing her bruised feelings, quickly given up the idea of trying to get out of her rut. If anything now, she was grateful for it. After what she had been through at the hands of a certain despotic would-be employer, the job of selling lampshades seemed blissfully safe and uncomplicated. She was thankful, almost relieved, to have something like this to return to.
    'They're paying good wages at Rankworths,' she said, going up the stairs. 'I'll probably take the rest of the week off, then start there on Monday.'
    'I think that would be very sensible.' Her mother returned to her work with prim approval.
    Upstairs in her room Carol tossed her handbag on the bed and flopped down beside it to gaze at the sun- washed ceiling. Life wasn't too bad, when she thought about it. Her new salesgirl job would pay more money for her holiday with the family in September. And on top of that she had a whole week now to do as she liked. The weather was good. She could go to the beach every day if she wanted to. Feeling light as air again, she changed into old slacks and tee-shirt and went to join her sisters on the Common.
    The next morning she packed enough sandwiches for the day and took herself off early to the beach. It was idyllic lazing amongst the holidaymakers pretending she was one of the idle rich.
    On Wednesday, on her mother's advice, she went to make sure of a position at Rankworths, the big store in the centre of town. There were no problems. She was experienced and they were crying out for salesgirls to cope with the summer rush. Carol wished she could have felt a little more enthusiasm as she was shown round the huge pillared sections.
    The following afternoon she came down to town again to stroll round the shops. Because they all had the same