Dreams to Sell (6 page)

Norma had asked why she was so worried, and Roz had tried to explain the importance of getting on with your boss. But it was more than that, really. More that she'd become so used to Mr MacKenna's easy ways, so cushioned against difficulties, that she wasn't sure how she'd cope with someone who might be different. Almost certainly would be different – that was the point.

Oh, grow up! she told herself. You can do your job well, whatever happens. Just don't worry about how the new man does his and how that might affect you. Powder your nose, put some more lipstick on, and look your best. The candidates could walk in any minute now.

Sure enough, almost as soon as she'd put her compact away, they did walk in, shepherded by Mr MacKenna, all three looking around with interest at the department. And her.

‘Gentlemen, this is Miss Rainey, my assistant,' Mr MacKenna told them. ‘My prop and stay ever since she joined the department. Someone I really couldn't do without, and who will be as helpful, I know, to my successor.'

As a quick blush rose to Roz's brow, the young men nodded and smiled. Mr Appin, the plump one, soon looked away, as did Mr Franklin, who was wearing tortoiseshell glasses and was almost as thin as Mr Wray, while only tall Mr Shield's gaze rested on her a little longer. And it was a friendly gaze, quite intent, from fine hazel eyes beneath well-marked dark brows, darker than his thick, light brown hair, and Roz rather enjoyed returning it. Only for a moment, though, as Mr MacKenna was beginning to outline some of the routine work of the department, moving the candidates on to study the property photographs before showing them Roz's own little office and asking her to explain her duties.

She managed that quite well, surprising herself with the ease with which she went through her work, before leaving it to Mr MacKenna to add a last word or two.

‘As you know from the job description,' he began, ‘the duties here include a certain amount of general legal work apart from managing this department – you'll have to be prepared for whatever comes along, but in any event, Miss Rainey here will hold the fort. She will also assist on visits to properties in taking particulars.'

Glancing at Roz, as he spoke, he added: ‘I believe she considers it one of the perks of this job that she gets to see the houses. Isn't that right, Miss Rainey?'

‘Oh, yes, Mr MacKenna,' she agreed eagerly. ‘Houses are my real interest.'

‘Yours, too, of course?' Mr MacKenna asked the candidates, at which there was a chorus of agreement and a smile from him.

‘They have to be, it goes without saying, if you look after a property department. Buying a house is the biggest investment most people have to make, and we're here to help them to get it right. Wanting to do that is what's drawn you to this particular post, I suppose I can say?'

‘Oh, certainly,' plump Mr Appin said at once. ‘That's certainly true for me.'

‘And me,' chimed Mr Franklin, while Mr Shield nodded without speaking.

‘Fine.' Mr MacKenna looked at his watch. ‘Well, we'd better return now to Mr Banks, I think. Follow me, gentlemen. Thank you, Miss Rainey.'

‘Thank you,' the young men echoed with enthusiasm, giving her farewell smiles as they left, Mr Shield's being as friendly as the look in his hazel eyes.

Feeling completely unsettled as she sat down at her typewriter, Roz's head was in a whirl. She'd seen the three candidates, who would now be taking it in turn to suffer an ordeal by interview, and it had all been pretty painless for her, hadn't it? The chaps had been very nice and polite. One in particular had been very friendly, she had to admit, and that was Mr Shield.

Mr Shield – he had a really pleasant manner, hadn't he? One that he could probably turn on for anyone, but that didn't make it any less attractive. Could she see herself working with him?

Roz stared at the paper in her typewriter.

She could, she decided, she'd like to, but what she'd like and what Mr Banks wanted could be two different things. Slowly, she began to type in the details of a bungalow that had recently come on to the market, wondering when the interviews would be over and Mr MacKenna would return. And would she get to know who the lucky winner was?

Sometime after four o'clock, she helped Norma to carry a tray of tea into the waiting room where Mr Appin and Mr Franklin were sitting in silence.

‘No Mr Shield?' asked Norma brightly. ‘Is he still having his interview?'

‘He's been in there ages,' Mr Appin muttered, accepting his tea and drinking it fast.

‘Longer than either of us,' said Mr Franklin, shovelling sugar into his cup, as though he felt he needed it.

The girls, returning to the staffroom, exchanged glances as they drank their own tea.

‘Oh, d'you think that Mr Shield's going to get it?' Norma whispered. ‘What a nice fellow, eh? You must be keeping your fingers crossed, Roz.'

‘Oh, I don't know – you can't really tell what someone will be like from first meeting, can you? We'll just have to wait and see.'

Wait, Roz did, of course – for Mr MacKenna's return, anyway. He looked weary, she thought, when he finally appeared sometime after five o'clock, but pleased. Things must have gone his way, then?

‘Well?' she asked anxiously. ‘Who got it?'

‘There's been nothing official said to the candidates – we're going to write to them.'

‘They've gone?'

‘Oh, yes, to catch their trains.'

‘Nothing official. What's unofficial, then?'

Mr MacKenna smiled broadly. ‘Mr Banks and I have both agreed – it's to be Mr Shield.'

Mr Shield. As she took in the news, her face told her thoughts and Mr MacKenna laughed.

‘You're pleased, aren't you, Roz? It wasn't just that he'd had some experience, he was the best all round and we think he'll be an asset to the firm. But why do I have the feeling that you're not going to miss me at all?'

It wasn't the case, of course, that Roz wouldn't be missing Mr MacKenna, her mentor, her father figure, when he departed. Having always worked with him at Tarrel's and finding it so pleasant, it would take more than a new fellow to replace him, however good he was at smiling. True, she was pleased Mr Shield had got the job and she felt more at ease about the future but, come the day when she arrived at the property department and Mr MacKenna wasn't there, she was still going to feel a huge gap that would take time to fill.

For now, though, everything was nicely routine at work and all she had to worry about was Dougal's departure, which was so soon approaching. Flo was, for the time being, bearing up well, which was so surprising. No one could quite believe it, but it was Dougal himself who appeared on edge. Perhaps he was worrying about whether he'd done the right thing? After all, it had all been his idea; he'd not asked for advice, seemed so sure he knew what he was doing, but as the time grew closer for his departure maybe he was beginning to have second thoughts?

‘I bet he is,' Chrissie declared. ‘I mean, who'd want to be a soldier? Always being ordered about, told what to wear, made to clean your stuff or be in trouble – I mean, your life's not your own, eh?'

‘Fellows seem to enjoy the life, they say,' Roz replied. ‘And they get to go places, see the world, do different things. That's what appealed to Dougal.'

‘Aye, but look at him now – face like a wet weekend! I think he's got cold feet.' Chrissie sighed. ‘Why is there always something to worry about in this family? The one thing that cheers me up is seeing Richard.' She gave a dreamy smile. ‘He takes me right out of this world, Roz. Makes me forget all my troubles.'

‘That's grand, Chrissie.' Roz hesitated. ‘But you will be careful, eh?'

‘What do you mean? I know how to take care of myself, eh? I'm not going to end up in the family way, if that's what you're hinting!'

‘No, it's not. All I'm saying, is, don't get too involved, in case – you know – it doesn't last.'

‘Thanks for that!' Chrissie cried. ‘Thanks for thinking Richard is going to get tired o' me, before we've known each other five minutes!'

‘Look, I didn't mean that. It's just – well, you know what I mean, Chrissie. I'm only thinking of you.'

‘You needn't, then! You're not exactly the one who should be handing out advice when you haven't even got a fellow of your own!'

‘OK, OK,' Roz said impatiently. ‘I'll say no more. Look, we're all on edge, eh? With Dougal due to go so soon? Let's not fall out.'

‘Just as long as you go easy on telling me what to do,' Chrissie said sulkily. ‘I've enough to think about, worrying about Ma. If she takes to her bed again after Dougal goes, Mrs Abbot will give her the push, no question.'

‘Worrying about Ma?' Roz's grey eyes darkened. ‘We're all in the same boat there.'

On Dougal's last evening before he left for his regiment, Flo and Chrissie came home early from the café so that all the family could be together for tea. Not that anyone expected it to be a cheerful meal, but it seemed the right thing to do, and though Flo constantly kept her eyes on her son and there was little conversation, all went off better than hoped. Afterwards, however, when Roz and Chrissie had cleared away and washed up, Flo's face began to take on the blankness the family dreaded and their hearts began to sink.

‘I'd … better pack my bag,' Dougal said, clearing his throat. ‘Though I'm not taking much. I'll be kitted out there.'

‘Kitted out?' Flo asked, her gaze on him now expressionless as she drew on a cigarette. ‘You mean you'll be in the same uniform as your father?'

‘Aye, I will. What else?'

‘Doesn't it make you feel bad, to think o' him?'

‘No, I feel proud. I felt proud when I told 'em about him at my first interview and they were impressed.' Dougal's voice was strong, his manner definite. If he'd had misgivings of sorts, he'd lost them now. ‘And when I get to wear the same uniform as he did, I'll feel good, Ma, so you've no need to worry about it.'

Flo was silent, finally looking away, and Roz said hastily, ‘Dougal's right, Ma – you've no need to worry about how he feels.'

‘Maybe I'm worrying about how
I
feel, Roz. You all know what I think about Dougal leaving us for the army.'

‘But we thought you'd got used to the idea!' cried Chrissie. ‘You've not said a word lately!'

‘Doesn't mean I've not been thinking about it.'

‘Ma, have a heart!' Dougal said roughly. ‘It's all fixed – I leave tomorrow. Don't make it hard for me!'

‘Hard for you?' Flo tossed her head. ‘What about me? Yes, you leave tomorrow, so when do we see you again, I'd like to know? This is your thanks to me for bringing you up, worrying about you—'

‘Ma, I'll be back on a weekend pass before you know I'm gone!' he cried. ‘They've told me that new recruits soon get a trip home, so you can see how I'll be and you needn't upset yourself or us any more.'

He leaped to his feet. ‘Now, I'm going to pack my bag in your room and then I'm going down to say goodbye to the lads at the Crown. If you're in bed when I come back I'll come in to say goodnight and I'll expect you to wish me luck. But don't you or anybody else see me off tomorrow because I'm leaving early like I told you, for the first train out.'

Red in the face, Dougal fixed his mother with a last fierce glare, then stalked away and the three women in his family, sitting speechless in their chairs, heard the crash of Flo's bedroom door behind him.

Oh, my, thought Roz, oh, Lord! That's torn it! Dougal was so pleased Ma had seemed to have got used to him going, he'd not been able to take it now she was playing up again. But what would happen now? Ma would never accept it, her son speaking to her like that – she'd be away to her bed, eh?

But Flo made no move. She seemed turned to stone, sitting in her chair, cigarette in hand, her eyes cast down while Roz and Chrissie waited fearfully for some sort of reaction. Only when the cigarette began to burn her fingers did Flo give a start, put out the stub and turn her eyes on her daughters.

‘Did you hear what he said?' she asked huskily. ‘Just then – what Dougal said to me? “You needn't upset yourself or us any more” … that's what he said. “Needn't upset yourself or us any more”… Have I upset you girls? Have I upset him? Is he blaming me?'

Chrissie, shaking her head, looked at Roz as though she couldn't find the words to say all that she wanted to, and it was Roz who had to find an answer.

‘Ma, of course we're upset if you're upset. That's always been the way, eh? We can't be happy if you're not happy, can we?'

‘I've made you all unhappy? Because I'm ill?' Flo's face was twisting with pain. ‘I've never meant to, never! I've always done my best – but you don't know what it's like, when the darkness comes down. It's like night to me, black, black night, and I try to struggle up, out of it, but there's nothing I can do, nothing, till it goes …'

She began to cry, putting her hand to her eyes like a child, until Roz ran to her and put an arm around her.

‘Ma, don't cry, you'll soon feel better again. The night does go, eh? You've been so much better lately.'

‘Aye, till Dougal had to go, till there's no way out. He's away tomorrow, and then there'll be the worry – the fear. I had to take the telegram, you know, when your dad went. I can remember it now – just how it was, all those years ago.'

‘Ma, there won't be any telegram about Dougal!' Chrissie cried. ‘He's not going to war, he's told you. It'll all be different for him!'

‘He's in the army. He's at risk, he'll always be at risk, and how do we live through it? Tell me that.'