Christmas to Come: a heartbreaking coming of age saga set in London's East End by Carol Rivers (best motivational novels txt) 📗

Only twenty minutes to go till half past twelve. Then she would cover the machine in front of her and say goodbye to Dixons for the rest of the weekend.

The other three girls were concentrating so hard only their fingers moved in front of them. Back and forth went the rollers on the big, bulky typewriters, the clack of the keys reverberating round the walls. No one seemed eager to leave. Bella couldn't wait. Tonight she was going up West with Micky. He was going to visit a club called The Indigo and he'd asked her to go with him. She had to look at least eighteen to get in, Micky had warned. She was going to wear a dress that he'd bought especially for the occasion.

He said he intended to open a club on the island just like the Indigo and was counting on Ron to help him, but at the moment Ronnie was putting the damper on all his ideas. Since his demob in '45, Ronnie had changed, Micky said, scarred by his experiences at war, none of which Ronnie ever talked about. But she had to agree with Micky, Ronnie was a harder man all round.

Bella had butterflies in her stomach just thinking about the Indigo. What would it be like there and who would she see? Someone famous perhaps. Micky knew all the actors and actresses that went there; it was a really high-class club.

'Finished already?' Evelyn Donald, the girl working at the next desk, broke into her thoughts.

Bella nodded, aware of the disapproving expression in the other girl's eyes. 'Yes, aren't you?'

'It's not half past twelve yet,' Evelyn Donald said as she tapped her watch. 'There's five minutes to go. I'm beginning this pile of orders so I can get ahead for Monday.'

Bella began to draw the cover over her typewriter. 'I don't need to get ahead, Evelyn. I already am.' She looked straight into Evelyn's narrowed eyes and shrugged casually. 'I don't see the point of making extra work for myself. We're just typing orders and adding up a few figures, that's all, not a life and death situation.'

'But you have to make sure all the figures are correct,' Evelyn emphasized as she glanced at Bella's work. 'Miss Conway is quick to remind us that Dixon's policy is accuracy over speed.'

'Well, it would be, wouldn't it?' Bella returned dismissively. 'They are the bosses and we are their slaves. They are never going to die from overwork are they? We do as we're told, yes sir, no sir and three bags full sir. Now, if you look at your watch again, it will definitely say half past and that's when we finish on Saturday mornings.'

Bella managed to prevent herself from laughing at Evelyn's horrified gaze as she continued to pack away. She couldn't imagine what these girls' brains were made of. Probably soup. They were all like sheep, running in one direction, following the leader. Bella had done it herself for the last four months, but she was tired of it. How did these girls tolerate the mind numbing boredom of their jobs? Margery Cooper had been here for fifteen years and Evelyn Donald for ten. All six girls in this office dutifully went over their work at the end of their day as if their lives depended on it. This job would have suited Dolly perfectly, Bella thought wryly as she watched Evelyn return her scrutiny to the book in front of her. Instead Dolly was slogging it out at Burlington Dock Fisheries, her clothes reeking of fish!

Bella stood up as Miss Conway, the supervisor, walked in. She was small and stocky with a man's short, straight haircut. From Bella's first day they had taken an instant dislike to one other.

'Finished already, Miss Doyle?'

'Yes,' Bella nodded, adding dutifully, '… Miss Conway.'

'Well, I am sorry to say I have found a number of faults in the work you left on my desk last night. As you know I dislike crossings out. If a mistake is made, I prefer the paperwork to be redone completely. Our customers don't expect to be issued with inferior accounts.'

'But I wouldn't cross out,' Bella protested. 'All my work was correct. I check it thoroughly before I bring it to your office.'

'Well, let me refresh your memory.'

Bella took the papers Miss Conway gave her. Someone had carefully crossed through her figures, making an unsightly repair to the total.

Bella's cheeks flushed as she glanced quickly at Evelyn who was typing away and didn't look up. It was Evelyn who had offered to take her work and leave it on Miss Conway's desk as she went out.

'Is this your work?'

'Yes, but – '

'No buts Miss Doyle. Errors are not company policy and quite unacceptable. You'll make out fresh paperwork, check the figures carefully this time and let me see them before you leave.' She turned and marched off in her thick-heeled brogues leaving Bella to stare at the other girls who, without comment, began to pack away and leave their desks. It took Bella a few minutes to realize what had happened. Someone amongst them had successfully sabotaged her prompt departure.

Bella was standing on tiptoe, gazing in the mirror propped against the wall of the room she still shared with Terry. There was no free space even though she kept the worn floorboards clean and tidy; the old mattress on which they had slept as children was gone and two narrow iron bedsteads and their horsehair mattresses now replaced it. The only other item of furniture was a small set of drawers. The chest was covered with a broad chintz runner to disguise the woodworm below. Beside it stood the long mirror, broken at one corner but still in one piece.

Bella was gazing into it, admiring her reflection as she stood in the calf-length black dress that Micky had bought her. He didn't even know her size and yet it fitted to perfection. The dress was made of a soft, clinging fabric