Belanga, and even a few lines about the sociology student V.S.O. Morag Cameron and her work amongst the shoeshine boys.
I heard the little carillon of bells again, then a knock on the door. I looked up smiling expecting to see Ashford Aid.
‘Well, Miss Bradley,’ said Mr. Fitzgerald, ‘how have you been getting along?’
The way he said it was just as I imagined whoever had Griselda shut up at the top of that tower would speak. Now he had come to see if the straw I had spun had really turned into gold. His eye caught the pile of typing beside me. Just as Mr. Ashford had done, he picked up a page and looked at it. But if he was comparing it to Eve’s he made no comment. He simply asked, ‘And what about the files?’
‘I’ve read them, all but four. Rather quickly. I’m afraid.’
‘But you’ve got the general picture?'
‘I think so.’
He nodded. ‘And where did you have lunch?’
‘Here.’
‘What do you mean here?'
‘I brought sandwiches from the Residence.’
At last, apparently, I had pleased him. He actually smiled, not just approvingly, but nicely. ‘You mustn’t make a habit of it, though,’ he said as if my wellbeing actually mattered. ‘There’s a good coffee bar in the hotel across the road. Some time you must. . .’
He looked at me thoughtfully. He seemed for the first time at a loss for the right words to finish off his sentence.
‘Must?’ I heard myself repeat questioningly.
The Head of Chancery appeared to mentally shake himself. ‘Must go there, of course,’ he said sharply. ‘And now that you’ve finished H.E.’s work, if you’d come into my office for a while I’d like you to take some dictation.’ Under his curiously nerve-tingling stare, I put away all the files and the typing in the cupboard and locked it. And then with my notebook and pencil in my hand I followed him down the corridor through the open brass-barred gate into Chancery.
I could hear the clack of the teleprinter as I walked past the Code Room. Mr. Fitzgerald stepped aside to let me go into his office first, and pulled a chair up to his desk so that I could sit beside him.
‘I expect it’s all a trifle strange at first, Miss Bradley?’ he said with his peculiarly sweet smile.
‘A little.’
‘And this is a somewhat overpowering first day with all the backlog. Still, you’ve managed to get through it very fast.'
I suppose that would be the nearest that this young Head of Chancery ever got to a compliment. To anyone except Eve Trent, that is, and I felt myself go quite limp with pleasure.
‘And now if you wouldn’t mind –'
He dictated fast, but I managed to keep up with him. After four quick letters, he went even faster. I had the idea that he was testing me, seeing if my speed was anywhere near Eve’s. Then he looked at me suddenly and asked, 'Mas despacio ?’
‘Por favor,’ I replied breathlessly. And we both laughed.
The smile lingered, crinkling up his eyes as he went on dictating more slowly. After finishing the letter he said, ‘So you know some Spanish?’
‘Only a little.’
‘Practise it whenever you can. Get Hester to speak to you—be good for the pair of you.' He put his papers neatly together. ‘Happy at the Residence, are you?’
‘Very, thank you. It’s good of them to put me up.'
‘Oh, it helps us to have you on the spot.’ He smiled. ‘What you call a mutually satisfactory arrangement. We try not to call you out at night too often, but it is on the cards—once in a blue moon.’ The smile broadened disarmingly. I felt that if only he remained in such a mood, I wouldn’t mind if the blue moon came round with the inevitable regularity of our ordinary terrestrial one. I wouldn’t mind if I was dragged out at night to type important dispatches, if only he was pleased with the end product.
‘Now as regards your work, I can see that you got straight away into it, but Eve did leave the usual handing over notes just to help you find your feet.’ He
I heard the little carillon of bells again, then a knock on the door. I looked up smiling expecting to see Ashford Aid.
‘Well, Miss Bradley,’ said Mr. Fitzgerald, ‘how have you been getting along?’
The way he said it was just as I imagined whoever had Griselda shut up at the top of that tower would speak. Now he had come to see if the straw I had spun had really turned into gold. His eye caught the pile of typing beside me. Just as Mr. Ashford had done, he picked up a page and looked at it. But if he was comparing it to Eve’s he made no comment. He simply asked, ‘And what about the files?’
‘I’ve read them, all but four. Rather quickly. I’m afraid.’
‘But you’ve got the general picture?'
‘I think so.’
He nodded. ‘And where did you have lunch?’
‘Here.’
‘What do you mean here?'
‘I brought sandwiches from the Residence.’
At last, apparently, I had pleased him. He actually smiled, not just approvingly, but nicely. ‘You mustn’t make a habit of it, though,’ he said as if my wellbeing actually mattered. ‘There’s a good coffee bar in the hotel across the road. Some time you must. . .’
He looked at me thoughtfully. He seemed for the first time at a loss for the right words to finish off his sentence.
‘Must?’ I heard myself repeat questioningly.
The Head of Chancery appeared to mentally shake himself. ‘Must go there, of course,’ he said sharply. ‘And now that you’ve finished H.E.’s work, if you’d come into my office for a while I’d like you to take some dictation.’ Under his curiously nerve-tingling stare, I put away all the files and the typing in the cupboard and locked it. And then with my notebook and pencil in my hand I followed him down the corridor through the open brass-barred gate into Chancery.
I could hear the clack of the teleprinter as I walked past the Code Room. Mr. Fitzgerald stepped aside to let me go into his office first, and pulled a chair up to his desk so that I could sit beside him.
‘I expect it’s all a trifle strange at first, Miss Bradley?’ he said with his peculiarly sweet smile.
‘A little.’
‘And this is a somewhat overpowering first day with all the backlog. Still, you’ve managed to get through it very fast.'
I suppose that would be the nearest that this young Head of Chancery ever got to a compliment. To anyone except Eve Trent, that is, and I felt myself go quite limp with pleasure.
‘And now if you wouldn’t mind –'
He dictated fast, but I managed to keep up with him. After four quick letters, he went even faster. I had the idea that he was testing me, seeing if my speed was anywhere near Eve’s. Then he looked at me suddenly and asked, 'Mas despacio ?’
‘Por favor,’ I replied breathlessly. And we both laughed.
The smile lingered, crinkling up his eyes as he went on dictating more slowly. After finishing the letter he said, ‘So you know some Spanish?’
‘Only a little.’
‘Practise it whenever you can. Get Hester to speak to you—be good for the pair of you.' He put his papers neatly together. ‘Happy at the Residence, are you?’
‘Very, thank you. It’s good of them to put me up.'
‘Oh, it helps us to have you on the spot.’ He smiled. ‘What you call a mutually satisfactory arrangement. We try not to call you out at night too often, but it is on the cards—once in a blue moon.’ The smile broadened disarmingly. I felt that if only he remained in such a mood, I wouldn’t mind if the blue moon came round with the inevitable regularity of our ordinary terrestrial one. I wouldn’t mind if I was dragged out at night to type important dispatches, if only he was pleased with the end product.
‘Now as regards your work, I can see that you got straight away into it, but Eve did leave the usual handing over notes just to help you find your feet.’ He
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