The Rainbow Years (13 page)
Authors: Rita Bradshaw
Amy nodded, her smile of thanks more natural now. ‘I’ll remember.’
It was only a moment or two before the girl reappeared with a tall, well-dressed man in a beautifully cut suit. Amy saw the girl mouth, ‘Good luck,’ before she went off to deal with some customers, and again the little touch of friendliness was warming.
‘Miss Shawe?’ The manager was middle-aged with a smart little moustache. ‘Please come this way.’
Amy felt very small and very young as she followed Mr Mallard through a door which led into a narrow passageway. Some yards ahead was another door to which Mr Mallard gestured as he said briefly, ‘Kitchens,’ before branching off to the left, where a flight of stairs rose sharply upwards. At the top of these the manager pointed to a door which was slightly to the right. ‘Main restaurant. And this,’ he nodded to their left before knocking twice on the door, ‘is Mr Callendar’s office.’
A voice called from within and the next moment Mr Mallard stood aside for her to precede him into the office. Amy found herself in a large, luxurious room furnished with a sofa and long low table in one corner, a row of filing cabinets in another and several grand paintings on the coffee-coloured walls. The thick green carpet stretched from wall to wall and the curtains at the two sets of windows were floor length. All this she took in with one swift glance before her attention focused on the man sitting behind the large dark desk at the far end of the room, positioned so that the light from one window streamed over his shoulders.
‘Miss Shawe, sir,’ said the manager in a slightly bored tone. Amy supposed he must be tired of presenting applicants to Mr Callendar. ‘And the chef would like a word when it is convenient.’
‘Problems, Robin?’
His voice was pleasant, cultured, and without the slightest trace of an accent, but the way the light was falling prevented her from seeing his face clearly.
‘He isn’t satisfied with the quality of the latest delivery of vegetables, sir.’
‘Is that all? Well, deal with it yourself. Pander to him. Get someone to go and buy some more if necessary. Whatever. I want him tickety-boo for that big party from the Gentlemen’s Club tonight. Word of mouth, Robin. Word of mouth. We can’t afford any disasters at this stage.’
‘Quite so, sir.’
For a moment after the door shut behind her Amy wasn’t sure what was expected of her, and then the deep pleasant voice said, ‘Come and sit down, Miss Shawe.’
It made everything stranger to be addressed as Miss Shawe. Amy all but scuttled to the straight hard-backed chair set in front of the desk. It didn’t help that as she approached Mr Callendar, she felt more flummoxed than ever. She had imagined he would be about the same age as the manager or older, but the dark-eyed, dark-haired man sitting in the big leather chair was young, she could now see. Well, youngish. And there was something about him that reminded her of that film star everyone liked, Gary Cooper. And then she blushed scarlet for thinking such a thing.
‘So you would like to work here, Miss Shawe. Why is that?’
Amy stared at him, completely nonplussed. She should probably have expected such a basic question, she realised now, but her previous interview for the position of housemaid at Mrs Tollett’s guest house hadn’t prepared her for anything like this.The housekeeper there had directed all her conversation to Aunt May for a start, merely smiling at her now and again, and the woman had only been interested in when she was due to leave school and whether she could work without constant supervision, things like that.
Amy cleared her throat. ‘I think it would be interesting meeting people all the time,’ she managed at last.
The dark eyes stared at her for a moment. She wanted to look away but instinct told her not to.
‘I have your name and address here but no other details,’ Mr Callendar said after what seemed like a lifetime to her overwrought nerves. ‘Perhaps you’d like to tell me a little about yourself. Where you’re working now, for example.’
Amy drew in a quick breath. He clearly thought she was older than she was so the new hairstyle had worked, but would he think her too young for the position once he knew the truth? But she couldn’t lie, he’d be bound to find out.
‘I’m not working,’ she said. ‘I mean not yet. I leave school at Easter.’
‘You leave school . . .’ His voice trailed away and his eyes widened. ‘How old are you, Miss Shawe?’
‘Fourteen.’
‘Fourteen?’ He leaned back in his chair and gave a chuck-ling laugh. Amy had the nasty feeling he was laughing at her. ‘Good grief, I thought you were at least sixteen or seventeen, ’ he said ruefully. ‘Girls these days ...’
Amy found she didn’t like his tone, quite why she didn’t know. She straightened in the chair, her voice crisper as she said, ‘If I look older it’s probably because I put my hair up for the first time today. I thought it would be expected if I was to serve food.’ This wasn’t really true because it had only just occurred to her but in the circumstances she felt it was justified. ‘And I do have the offer of another job but I don’t want to take it unless I have to.’
He moved his head backwards as though to see her better. After a moment or two he said, ‘Can I ask what this other job entails?’
Her chin rose. ‘It’s working as a housemaid in a guest house.’
His eyes moved over the gold-tinted brown curls and heart-shaped face. ‘Why did you apply for it if you didn’t really want it?’
In for a penny, in for a pound. This wasn’t going at all as she’d hoped. ‘My aunt insisted,’ she said briefly. And then when the dark eyebrows rose in silent enquiry, she added, ‘I live with my aunt and uncle and they feel I should get a job rather than go to secondary school.The housemaid’s post was the only thing available, with jobs being so scarce at the moment, but I don’t want to go into service.’
‘Some would say waitressing is along the same lines.’ From the stories she’d heard from several girls she knew who were in service, this was plain ridiculous.
‘I don’t think so,’ she said firmly.
He straightened in his chair, bringing his hands palm down on the desk. She waited for him to tell her she could leave now. Instead he said, ‘You live with your aunt and uncle, you say. Where are your parents?’
She blinked. ‘They’re dead.’
‘I’m sorry. Was this recent?’
She thought quickly. ‘My mother died when I was nearly two years old. My . . .’ she had to force herself to say the word, ‘father died before I was born, in the war.’ Which was true enough. ‘My uncle, my mother’s brother, took me into his home.’
‘No brothers or sisters?’
She shook her head. ‘Just eight cousins,’ she said flatly.
‘I see.’What he saw, Amy wasn’t sure.Then he said,‘Perhaps that explains the air you have, an air that’s older than your years.’
His tone now suggested he was trying to be nice and so she said, ‘Perhaps,’ and then waited.
‘You don’t smile much,’ he said suddenly.
Again she blinked, remembering what the kind waitress downstairs in the café had said. But she wasn’t a clown who had to smile to order.The spirit of rebellion that had sprung up more than once lately - usually to her cost - flared. ‘I smile when there’s something to smile about,’ she said quietly.
‘Do you indeed.’
A silence fell between them and he sat looking at her, a half smile bringing the corners of his mouth upwards as if he were amused. ‘Would my offering you the job be sufficient cause?’ he asked after long moments.
Did he mean it? She stared at him uncertainly. ‘Is that what you’re doing?’ she asked hesitantly.
He nodded. ‘If you can bring that elusive smile into play with my customers, that is.’
She beamed at him. ‘Oh, I will, of course I will. Thank you, Mr Callendar.’
‘My manager, Mr Mallard, will tell you the conditions of employment and so on. Remuneration will be in accordance with age and experience, of course. Do you understand?’
Amy nodded. ‘Thank you,’ she said again, although now she was thinking she should have asked what that would mean for her, considering she was on the very bottom rung of the ladder in every way.
After turning and pressing a bell push set in the wall behind him, Mr Callendar stood and Amy rose too, taking the hand he proffered. His handshake was cool and firm and then, as though he had read her mind, he asked, ‘What wage do housemaids get these days?’
‘Eight shillings. At least that’s what I was going to be paid.’
He smiled. ‘We can do better than that.’
‘Oh good!’ And then she blushed as he grinned. ‘I mean thank you,’ she added hastily. ‘My aunt wouldn’t have let me accept if it was below eight shillings.’
‘Is she waiting for you downstairs?’
‘My aunt? No, she doesn’t know I’m here. I’ve come with a friend, my mother’s friend,’ she qualified because it sounded better. ‘She’s doing some shopping and I’m meeting her later.’
‘Ah.’ There was a polite knock on the door to the office and Mr Callendar called, ‘Just a moment, Robin,’ before he said, ‘So do I take it I’ve been party to a spot of mutiny, albeit unintentionally?’
He didn’t sound as if he minded and his eyes were lovely, all sort of twinkling. Amy gave her first totally natural smile since she had walked in the room.‘I’m afraid so, Mr Callendar.’
‘Good. I’ve always been something of a rebel myself.’ He moved from behind the desk and walked across the room with her. He opened the door and said to the manager,‘Come in a moment, Robin. I want a brief word,’ before turning to her to add, ‘If you’d like to wait downstairs, Miss Shawe, Mr Mallard will be down shortly.’
‘Oh aye, right, thank you.’ Flustered now, Amy almost forgot to add, ‘Mr Callendar,’ before she hurried past Mr Mallard and made her way back to the café. As she returned to her post between the rubber plants, the waitress who had spoken to her before passed, spinning on her heel when she noticed her.
‘How did you get on, lass?’
‘I’ve been offered a job.’ Amy knew she was grinning from ear to ear but she couldn’t help it.
‘I thought you would be with your looks. What do you think to our Mr Callendar then? Bit of all right, isn’t he?’
A little taken aback, Amy nodded.
‘Word has it he came up north because his young wife died and he wanted to get right away from all the memories. ’ There followed a deep sigh. ‘Isn’t that romantic? Look, I’ve got to get on but I’ll see you when you start. When is that?’
‘What? Oh, I don’t know. At Easter, I suppose. I leave school then.’
‘You still at school?’ Wide brown eyes expressed their surprise. ‘I’d never have guessed.’ And then as the door at the rear opened and the manager walked through, the girl said, ‘I’m Verity, by the way. Bye for now,’ and she scurried away.
By the time Amy met Kitty outside the Palace Theatre, she could hardly contain herself. ‘Ten shillings,’ she said jubilantly after she’d told Kitty she’d got the job. ‘Ten shillings plus any tips, although Mr Mallard says they aren’t much where I’ll be working in the café and tea room.’ She hadn’t cared for the manager. He was from the south the same as Mr Callendar, but unlike the owner he had seemed snooty and abrupt as he’d explained her duties. And if anyone should have been like that, surely it was Mr Callendar, him being rich and owning the place. She’d gained a distinct impression that Mr Mallard didn’t like the north or its people, especially when he had spoken of the meanness with the tips. It had been on the tip of her tongue to say that however bad things were down south, everyone knew the north was suffering more in the Depression.
‘Oh lass, that’s grand.’ Kitty smiled broadly at her. ‘I’ll say it now although I wouldn’t have done before, but your mam would have hated to see you go into service. She’ll be smiling down the day, sure enough. Pleased as punch, she’ll be. You know that, don’t you?’
What Amy said was, ‘Oh, Aunt Kitty,’ and her voice was soft and full of deep affection. Whenever she was with her mother’s friend she felt as though her mam was nearer somehow.
They gazed at each other for a moment and then Kitty cleared her throat and said fondly, ‘Pity you’ve got to get back, lass. I’d have loved to have treated you to a seat in here,’ she waved her hand at the cinema, ‘to celebrate. Remember when they brought in the talkies last year and we went to the first showing of
Their Own Desire
? Your Aunt May was pea green that one of me lasses at the laundry had a sister working as an usherette who helped with the tickets. Came down off her high horse enough to ask me for a favour then, didn’t she!’
Their Own Desire
? Your Aunt May was pea green that one of me lasses at the laundry had a sister working as an usherette who helped with the tickets. Came down off her high horse enough to ask me for a favour then, didn’t she!’
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