Shattered Dreams Read Free Page A

walking out with a young lady yet?”
    “I have heard from one of my daughters that he is seeing one of the shop assistants that works here.”
    Gladys lowered her voice and looked around in case someone could hear.
    “Hardly marriage material. She’s not a Roman Catholic and Eddie is only nineteen, whilst she is twenty-one. Rather young I think to be settling down. I’m going to invite Marjorie Buckley around for Sunday tea as soon as I can get around to it. You know her father, Alfred Buckley, don’t you? One of the leading lights at the Amateur Dramatic Society and a member of the Rotary. She is a lovely girl, educated with my daughters at the convent and pronounces her words so beautifully, puts my Welsh inflection to shame.”
    “Oh, Gladys, I think your accent is enchanting and you’ve managed to hold on to it all these years. Now shall we order some little sandwiches? They’ll put us on until supper time.”
    The shop assistant to whom Eddie’s mother had been referring was on her way back to her post on the hosiery counter. She had been given the job of counting stockings, then neatly folding them back into the wooden trays. Sarah Petey, who had been promoted to assistant buyer, though she had started her apprenticeship after Irene, was nowhere to be seen. It had been arranged that the two girls would liaise at one’ clock to see if more stock was required.
    Irene stood behind the counter waiting patiently. There was only so many times one could count stockings; she had already tidied the new fangled brassieres and the glass shelves were gleaming from when she had dusted them before. She kept her eye out for the floor walker. He was known to tattle tale to management if he thought a girl was not doing her share.
    Boredom began to set in. There were no customers to be served and the girl from the millinery counter opposite was busy arranging her merchandise on the wooden hat stands. Irene stared glassy eyed towards the window. Was this what she was going to have to do for the rest of her life? Standing for ten hours a day, watching the minutes on the department clock tick by. Even if she did apply for a job at the new Co-op, would her day be any different? She could still be watching the clock in another store up the road!
    Oh, where had Sarah got to? At least counting stockings in the girl’s company would alleviate the boredom and they could have a laugh together as Sarah usually had a joke to tell. Finally Irene decided to go to the senior buyer’s office. Mr Fielding would know where Sarah had got to.
    Her mind in a whirl, Irene forgot to knock at the door of his office, but she soon discovered where Sarah was. Sitting on the senior buyer’s knee! She couldn’t say who was the most embarrassed, though Sarah managed to conceal her shame whilst doing up the buttons on her blouse and the man pretended he was about to sharpen a pencil.
    “So this is how you got your promotion,” Irene managed to splutter before leaving as an uncomfortable silence was beginning to fill the air.
    With her mind made up she put her hat and coat on and walked up the road to the Co-op and, with the knowledge that she was sure to get a glowing reference from the senior buyer, Irene was given a job.
    J.C. sat in the bank manager’s office, whilst Mr Martin, a thin studious looking man, was busy studying his client’s file.
    “I have to tell you the truth of the matter, Mr Dockerty, you’ll have to cut down on your expenditure or your workforce. There’s too much money going out and not enough coming in.”
    “But I don’t know what you mean by that,” J.C. answered, sounding puzzled. “I’ve the rents from Conway Street coming in and that brings a tidy income as you know.”
    “But, you are spending more than you should do. Do you need twenty wages going out each Friday, when you’ve only just started putting the foundations in? If I were you I would lay off your workforce until they’re needed. Then there’s your