good future in retailing once the utility rules were lifted. One shop, two shops, who knows where it might lead?
He marched smartly along the dimly lit corridor, boots ringing on the tiled floor. There were several men already waiting at the office to which he was directed, and a young woman tucked behind a newspaper. Benny ignored them all, stood at the small square window and pressed the bell. He could see the head of a man bent over a book into which he was writing in crabbed lettering. The clerk did not even glance up at the sound of the bell.
Benny pressed it again.
A woman in a tweed skirt and grey cardigan glanced briefly in his direction before returning to clacking the keys of an ancient typewriter. Benny wasn’t used to being kept waiting, particularly by civvies. He drummed his fingers on the window ledge but neither paid him the slightest attention. A curl of anger started deep in his belly. He’d risked his life for idiots like this, pen pushers who’d hardly taken their backsides off their easy chairs.
With one sharp knuckle he rapped on the window again. ‘’Scuse me,’ he said in stentorian tones. No response, save from the woman who, without pause in her typing, half glanced at the clerk, then quickly away again. Benny decided that either the man was stone deaf or pig ignorant. ‘I haven’t all day to stand here.’
From behind him came a stifled snort of laughter. He rounded upon the perpetrator, and stopped dead.
Bright blue eyes danced with merriment above the open newspaper, in the kind of classical face that might be plain or beautiful, perhaps depending on her mood, or on those who looked upon it. She was certainly arresting. A fresh, almost schoolgirl grin with a straight nose and a neat chin. The kind of face you could get to enjoy looking at. One that showed good breeding and class. The kind of girl Benny Pride didn’t usually get anywhere near.
‘I’ve been here two hours,’ she said, twisting her mouth into a moue of disbelief. Relaxed again, it became once more a wide, laughing mouth, one he experienced a strong desire to taste. ‘And it’s not the first time. I’ve been here more times than I care to recall. It’s always the same. He deals with you eventually. In his own good time. You just have to be patient.’
Benny was slowly gathering his wits. ‘Two hours my foot. Nobody makes a monkey out of me.’
The girl giggled and ran her fingers through ridiculously short, honey gold hair. Benny preferred long curls that fell enticingly over a girl’s face, and red heads rather than blondes, more the Rita Hayworth type but it suited her all the same, no doubt about that.
‘I shouldn’t think anyone would try,’ she said and Benny puffed out his chest, aware he’d developed a good physique while in the army, and that this girl seemed to appreciate the fact.
He rapped on the window again, harder this time, meaning to impress. ‘Hey up. I’d like a word, if you don’t mind.’ He’d no intention of being ignored while those bewitching cornflower blue eyes were fixed upon him.
The clerk lifted his head and adjusted his spectacles to briefly consider Benny. ‘Wait in line. You’ll be attended to in due course.’
In one fluid movement, Benny pushed up the small window, stuck his hand through the gap and grasping the man by the only bit of collar he could reach, hauled him to his feet. ‘Stand up when you speak to me,’ he bawled, in a voice the men in his platoon would have recognised. ‘Straighten that tie, jump to it, and get your bleedin’ hair cut. ’
The clerk’s jaw hung with shock as his dazed eyes took in the size of Benny, yet found himself quite unable to free himself from the clenched fist that held him in an iron grip. ‘I b-b-beg your pardon?’
‘No bloody pen-pusher tells me to wait in line. Is that understood? I’ve done all the waiting I’m doing. Six years of it. Now the sodding war is over and I haven’t helped win it to wait about
He marched smartly along the dimly lit corridor, boots ringing on the tiled floor. There were several men already waiting at the office to which he was directed, and a young woman tucked behind a newspaper. Benny ignored them all, stood at the small square window and pressed the bell. He could see the head of a man bent over a book into which he was writing in crabbed lettering. The clerk did not even glance up at the sound of the bell.
Benny pressed it again.
A woman in a tweed skirt and grey cardigan glanced briefly in his direction before returning to clacking the keys of an ancient typewriter. Benny wasn’t used to being kept waiting, particularly by civvies. He drummed his fingers on the window ledge but neither paid him the slightest attention. A curl of anger started deep in his belly. He’d risked his life for idiots like this, pen pushers who’d hardly taken their backsides off their easy chairs.
With one sharp knuckle he rapped on the window again. ‘’Scuse me,’ he said in stentorian tones. No response, save from the woman who, without pause in her typing, half glanced at the clerk, then quickly away again. Benny decided that either the man was stone deaf or pig ignorant. ‘I haven’t all day to stand here.’
From behind him came a stifled snort of laughter. He rounded upon the perpetrator, and stopped dead.
Bright blue eyes danced with merriment above the open newspaper, in the kind of classical face that might be plain or beautiful, perhaps depending on her mood, or on those who looked upon it. She was certainly arresting. A fresh, almost schoolgirl grin with a straight nose and a neat chin. The kind of face you could get to enjoy looking at. One that showed good breeding and class. The kind of girl Benny Pride didn’t usually get anywhere near.
‘I’ve been here two hours,’ she said, twisting her mouth into a moue of disbelief. Relaxed again, it became once more a wide, laughing mouth, one he experienced a strong desire to taste. ‘And it’s not the first time. I’ve been here more times than I care to recall. It’s always the same. He deals with you eventually. In his own good time. You just have to be patient.’
Benny was slowly gathering his wits. ‘Two hours my foot. Nobody makes a monkey out of me.’
The girl giggled and ran her fingers through ridiculously short, honey gold hair. Benny preferred long curls that fell enticingly over a girl’s face, and red heads rather than blondes, more the Rita Hayworth type but it suited her all the same, no doubt about that.
‘I shouldn’t think anyone would try,’ she said and Benny puffed out his chest, aware he’d developed a good physique while in the army, and that this girl seemed to appreciate the fact.
He rapped on the window again, harder this time, meaning to impress. ‘Hey up. I’d like a word, if you don’t mind.’ He’d no intention of being ignored while those bewitching cornflower blue eyes were fixed upon him.
The clerk lifted his head and adjusted his spectacles to briefly consider Benny. ‘Wait in line. You’ll be attended to in due course.’
In one fluid movement, Benny pushed up the small window, stuck his hand through the gap and grasping the man by the only bit of collar he could reach, hauled him to his feet. ‘Stand up when you speak to me,’ he bawled, in a voice the men in his platoon would have recognised. ‘Straighten that tie, jump to it, and get your bleedin’ hair cut. ’
The clerk’s jaw hung with shock as his dazed eyes took in the size of Benny, yet found himself quite unable to free himself from the clenched fist that held him in an iron grip. ‘I b-b-beg your pardon?’
‘No bloody pen-pusher tells me to wait in line. Is that understood? I’ve done all the waiting I’m doing. Six years of it. Now the sodding war is over and I haven’t helped win it to wait about
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