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that has to be the best excuse for being late I’ve come across since I’ve been working here.’ His smile fades with much more ease than it appeared. ‘Don’t let it happen again, though.’
    ‘I won’t, Mr Maxwell. Thank you, Mr Maxwell.’
    He turns around and is about to head through the glass doors again, when he turns back. ‘Out of interest, what took you all the way over to the King’s Road in your lunch break?’
    ‘I have a friend who owns a record shop over there. I – I needed to go and see him about something.’
    ‘Would that be George’s shop you’re talking about?’ Mr Maxwell asks.
    ‘Yes, it is, Groovy Records. Do you know George, then?’
    Mr Maxwell nods. ‘Yes, we’ve met once or twice.’
    I’m about to ask when and how, but he backs towards the doors again. ‘No more chit-chat. Back to work immediately, young lady, before I have to dock your wages.’
    That sounds more like the usual Mr Maxwell. I pull my headphones on and put all thoughts of George and his shop aside for now.
    The afternoon is a quiet one, thank goodness, and I manage to cope fairly easily with the demands of being a 1963 receptionist.
    In a way it’s actually quite nice being on this side of things for a change, without all the hassles of being the boss. I could never have imagined taking a step back down the career ladder would be so enjoyable back in 2013 – the thought of such a thing would have horrified me – but it’s really good fun to be in contact with the many interesting and diverse people that pass through the reception of EMI House on a daily basis, and I’m quite enjoying it.
    When I leave the office at the end of my second day there, at an incredibly early time of day for me to finish work, I head home with Ellie. I thought about trying to dash back over to George’s shop, but decided he’d probably be closed for the day now, and Ellie had seemed in a bit of a flap when we left the office, and I wanted to find out why.
    ‘So,’ I ask her as we travel on the bus together. ‘What are we up to tonight?’ Finishing work so early gives me much more spare time in the evenings than I’m used to; I never had this luxury back in 2013. I’m not too sure what sort of things I’m supposed to get up to in the sixties, but I’m eager to find out.
    ‘I don’t know about you, Jo-Jo, but I’m baking tonight.’
    ‘Baking? For us?’
    ‘Nooo, for the bosses – I said I was going to, didn’t I?’
    ‘You’re still going to do that?’
    ‘Yep, I’m going to bake them lots of cakes and take them in tomorrow – I bought all the stuff at lunchtime in Marylebone High Street.’ She holds up a bag stuffed full of groceries. ‘I haven’t got much time, have I, if I want to win this competition. The fancy lunch is next Monday.’
    ‘No, I suppose you haven’t.’
    ‘What are you going to do?’ Ellie asks as she pulls a cookery book from her bag. As she opens it, I notice it’s a library edition.
    ‘I don’t know, just chill out, I guess.’
    Ellie pulls a face. ‘Chill out? It’s November, aren’t you cold enough already?’
    ‘I mean relax, watch a bit of TV, that kind of thing.’
    ‘Oh, I see. What are you going to watch,
Coronation Street
or that dreadful Hancock man? Oh, hey, isn’t it a
Dr Kildare
night tonight? I might join you for a spot of Richard Chamberlain if I get my baking done in time – if he was my doctor I’d be ill all the time, I reckon!’
    ‘Perhaps I’ll just read a book, then,’ I say, thinking this doesn’t sound all that enthralling. ‘Did you go to the library to get that out at lunchtime?’ I ask, looking down at her book.
    ‘Yes, I don’t have any cookbooks, but this,’ she holds up a blue
Good Housekeeping
cookery book, ‘this will help me turn out perfect cakes. The woman in the library says she swears by it.’
    ‘Must be good then.
Good Housekeeping
is a household name, so I’m sure they’ll see you right – they’ve been going for