Read Online Victoria Line, Central Line by Maeve Binchy - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Maeve Binchy
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?’
‘Certainly, Miss Gray, can you wait five minutes while I tell these gentlemen I shall be back in two hours to see how they are getting on?’
Eve managed to make three large men look as if they knew she was going to have them fired unless the partition was perfect. Then she went to the shop with Sara.
There was a brief objective discussion about what clothes Sara already possessed. Eve explained that she had only seen two tweed skirts and one black sweater in the three days she had been working there. Shamefacedly, Sara said she thought there were a couple of other sweaters and perhaps two more workable tweed skirts.
Eve seemed neither pleased nor put out; she was merely asking for information. In the store she suggested three outfits which could interchange and swap and make about a dozen between them. They cost so much that Sara had to sit down on the fitting-room chair.
‘I took the liberty of getting you a credit card for your expenses, Miss Gray,’ said Eve. ‘I rushed it through, and what you are going to spend now is totally justifiable. You have to meet the public, you have to represent the company in places where the company may well be judged by the personal appearance of its representatives. What you are spending on these garments is half what Mr Edwards has spent in the last six months, and you have been entitled to expenses of this kind for over a year and never called on them.’
By Monday Sara could hardly recognise either herself or her new surroundings. On Eve’s advice she had had an expensive hair-do; she wore the pink and grey wool outfit, put the pink cyclamens on her window sill, near the lovely old table with its matching half-dozen chairs which they had eventually found for half nothing since it was too big for most homes, and nobody except Eve would have thought of it as office furniture
Eve was living in her purpose-built annexe surrounded with files and ledgers. She had just begun to compile a folio of Sara’s work so far with thecompany, a kind of illustrated
curriculum vitae
which would show her worth and catalogue her achievements. Nobody was more surprised than Sara by all she seemed to have done during her years in the company.
‘I’m really quite good, you know,’ she said happily.
‘Miss Gray, you are very good indeed, otherwise I wouldn’t work with you,’ said Eve solemnly, and Sara could detect no hint of humour or self-mockery in the tone.
Towards the end of the second week, Eve pronounced herself pleased with the office. She had bought an old coat-stand which ideally matched the table and chairs, and on this she urged Sara to hang her smart coat so that the whole place just looked as if it were an extension of her own creative personality. If anyone gasped with amazement at the changes in the room, Sara was to say that there was all this silly money up in requisitions for her to decorate the place, and she did hate modern ugly cubes of furniture so she had just chosen things she liked – which had in fact been cheaper. People were stunned, and jealous, and wondered why they hadn’t thought of this too.
Remarks about her appearance Eve suggested should be parried slightly. No need to tell people that she now had regular twice weekly sessions with a beautician. Eve had booked her a course of twenty.
So on the second Friday of her employment Eve came into Sara’s part of the office and said she thought that they were ready to begin.
‘Begin?’ cried Sara. ‘I thought we’d finished.’
Eve gave one of her rare smiles. ‘I meant begin your work, Miss Gray. I’ve been taking up a lot of your time with what I am sure you must have considered inessentials. Now I feel that you should concentrate totally on your work for promotions and let me look after everything else. I shall keep detailed records of all the routine work that I am doing. Each evening I’ll leave you a progress report, too, of how I think we have been getting on in our various projects.
‘Certainly, Miss Gray, can you wait five minutes while I tell these gentlemen I shall be back in two hours to see how they are getting on?’
Eve managed to make three large men look as if they knew she was going to have them fired unless the partition was perfect. Then she went to the shop with Sara.
There was a brief objective discussion about what clothes Sara already possessed. Eve explained that she had only seen two tweed skirts and one black sweater in the three days she had been working there. Shamefacedly, Sara said she thought there were a couple of other sweaters and perhaps two more workable tweed skirts.
Eve seemed neither pleased nor put out; she was merely asking for information. In the store she suggested three outfits which could interchange and swap and make about a dozen between them. They cost so much that Sara had to sit down on the fitting-room chair.
‘I took the liberty of getting you a credit card for your expenses, Miss Gray,’ said Eve. ‘I rushed it through, and what you are going to spend now is totally justifiable. You have to meet the public, you have to represent the company in places where the company may well be judged by the personal appearance of its representatives. What you are spending on these garments is half what Mr Edwards has spent in the last six months, and you have been entitled to expenses of this kind for over a year and never called on them.’
By Monday Sara could hardly recognise either herself or her new surroundings. On Eve’s advice she had had an expensive hair-do; she wore the pink and grey wool outfit, put the pink cyclamens on her window sill, near the lovely old table with its matching half-dozen chairs which they had eventually found for half nothing since it was too big for most homes, and nobody except Eve would have thought of it as office furniture
Eve was living in her purpose-built annexe surrounded with files and ledgers. She had just begun to compile a folio of Sara’s work so far with thecompany, a kind of illustrated
curriculum vitae
which would show her worth and catalogue her achievements. Nobody was more surprised than Sara by all she seemed to have done during her years in the company.
‘I’m really quite good, you know,’ she said happily.
‘Miss Gray, you are very good indeed, otherwise I wouldn’t work with you,’ said Eve solemnly, and Sara could detect no hint of humour or self-mockery in the tone.
Towards the end of the second week, Eve pronounced herself pleased with the office. She had bought an old coat-stand which ideally matched the table and chairs, and on this she urged Sara to hang her smart coat so that the whole place just looked as if it were an extension of her own creative personality. If anyone gasped with amazement at the changes in the room, Sara was to say that there was all this silly money up in requisitions for her to decorate the place, and she did hate modern ugly cubes of furniture so she had just chosen things she liked – which had in fact been cheaper. People were stunned, and jealous, and wondered why they hadn’t thought of this too.
Remarks about her appearance Eve suggested should be parried slightly. No need to tell people that she now had regular twice weekly sessions with a beautician. Eve had booked her a course of twenty.
So on the second Friday of her employment Eve came into Sara’s part of the office and said she thought that they were ready to begin.
‘Begin?’ cried Sara. ‘I thought we’d finished.’
Eve gave one of her rare smiles. ‘I meant begin your work, Miss Gray. I’ve been taking up a lot of your time with what I am sure you must have considered inessentials. Now I feel that you should concentrate totally on your work for promotions and let me look after everything else. I shall keep detailed records of all the routine work that I am doing. Each evening I’ll leave you a progress report, too, of how I think we have been getting on in our various projects.
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