What I was going to say was that at the moment it looks lovely. Just make sure to keep it that way.’
‘And from what Lottie says, I must remember to smile,’ Gracie said giving her mother a big grin. Mildred laughed.
‘When do you not smile? Now go. And good luck.’
‘Punctuality. That is what counts at all times, my dear,’ was the first thing Annie Walker said, glancing up at the clock in the bar. Gracie’s heart sank. As far as she understood they hadn’t set a specific time for the interview but Annie had the bit between her teeth. ‘Always remember that our clients expect us to open the doors on time and we have, by law, to close up on time. Fortunately, the bar is not officially open yet so we do have some time to talk before the rush begins.’
‘Yes, Mrs Walker,’ Gracie finally got an opportunity to say. ‘I agree. I’m quite a stickler for timekeeping myself.’ She didn’t want to explain that she might have come sooner if she hadn’t been dithering about what to wear. Annie smiled at her but there was no warmth in it and Gracie wondered for a moment if she had made a mistake in coming. Maybe this job was not for her after all. But she took a deep breath and calmed herself down. Then she lifted her chin and began to answer Annie’s questions.
‘And tell me, my dear, do you have a sweetheart away in the forces?’ Annie said finally.
‘No, I don’t,’ Gracie admitted. She was surprised by the question and wondered if that was going to make any difference to the outcome. But Annie merely looked directly at her and this time gave her a warm smile.
‘I married mine,’ she said unexpectedly. ‘And now he’s gone away, fighting abroad.’ She looked so wistful Gracie couldn’t help feeling a little sorry for her, but Annie quickly became businesslike again as she handed Gracie a pen and a piece of paper.
‘Now, if you wouldn’t mind writing your details on here and then working out the answers to the little sums that I’ve written out on the back …’
Gracie hadn’t expected a test, though she supposed it was the best way to make sure she could read and write, and make the correct change if she had to handle customers’ money. So she did her best approximation of the neat copperplate-style handwriting they had been taught in school, and wrote down in figures, as quickly and as accurately as she could, the solutions to the arithmetic questions. She took a deep breath while Annie was scrutinizing her answers and nervously tucked away the stray tendrils of hair that she could feel had escaped from her ponytail. Annie was reading carefully and didn’t speak for several moments. When she looked up, Gracie stopped breathing for a second or two.
‘When would you be free to start if I were to offer you the job?’ Annie asked.
‘Tomorrow,’ Gracie said without hesitation. ‘Does that mean I’ve got it?’
Annie’s face finally creased with pleasure and the warmth of her expression at last reached her eyes. ‘I would like to offer you a week’s trial,’ Annie said. ‘At the end of that time we’ll both be at liberty to call time on the offer, if you’ll pardon the pun, if things haven’t worked out. But I feel sure they will.’ She put out her hand. ‘I look forward to working with you, Gracie,’ she said. ‘I presume I may call you Gracie?’
‘Yes, of course, and thank you very much.’ Gracie grinned. She was surprised to find Annie’s handshake was warmer than she had expected.
‘And I’m Annie,’ the landlady said. But the softness in her voice suddenly sharpened as she added, ‘Although I prefer to be referred to as Mrs Walker in front of the customers.’
Annie was pleased she had managed the interview so soon after coming downstairs from her sickbed. It would certainly make her life easier to have a permanent barmaid in place. But then, she had always prided herself that she had learned how to gather good people around her, and it was an essential attribute at a time like this when she was running the pub and bringing up the children single-handed.
The only person she had been unsure of hiring was Ned Narkin, who had turned up as a potential potman, in answer to her ad, shortly after Jack had joined up. It was not an easy job to fill as all the young able-bodied men were abroad, fighting for the cause. Even those who weren’t fit enough to join the forces, like Albert Tatlock, had taken on civic duties and become firefighters, ARP wardens or joined the Home Guard, jobs which occupied them full time. She had been forced to take on the only man who had shown up in response to the card she’d placed in the window. From the moment she first saw him she wasn’t sure she trusted Ned Narkin, for she thought he had a shifty look about his eyes. He was too old for the army and he came with no references but she had no choice but to take him on. She needed a man about the place and she was pleased when he set to work in the cellar almost immediately, heaving the crates and barrels that were too heavy for her to lift.
Then one day, in a crisis, she had seen a different side to Ned. He surprised her when he’d fearlessly challenged two youngsters who were hanging around by the back door. They looked as though they were up to no good and he’d actually been injured when they took on his challenge and picked a fight with him. Annie warmed to him after that and she had to admit she felt safer during working hours having him about the place.
But hiring Gracie, of course, was a different matter. She seemed like a nice class of girl, very much in the Lottie mould, and she sounded to come from a decent family so Annie had a good feeling about her right from the start. Annie was sure she would be staying long beyond the week’s trial she had offered her. When Sally and Lottie left, it would be a great comfort to have a bright young person like Gracie about the place.
Gracie forgot to walk with any kind of poise as she made her way back to Mallard Street and every few steps she did a little skip, followed by a hop, a step and a jump. She would have to mind her Ps and Qs with Annie, she could see that, but the idea of working behind the bar was so much better than being on the workbench in the factory. Wait till she told them at home. They might not be pleased about the cut in wages she’d had to agree to, but her mother, at least, would certainly understand that she would be much happier. She hoped Lottie would be pleased too. It would be hard work, she would be on her feet most of the day, but she wasn’t afraid of that. And she’d have a chance to get some time off if they weren’t busy. She had always been conscientious and having decided she really did want the job she would do her best to make a good impression from the start.
The only problem she could anticipate was the little tearaway she had seen several times being shooed out of the public area. He didn’t look to be more than three, but the cleaning lady, Rose, had to chase him out of the bar several times even in the short time Gracie’d been there. When Annie proudly introduced her son, she seemed very relaxed about his behaviour but all Gracie could think was that Rose was a saint for putting up with his antics. Gracie’s younger brothers had taught her all there was to know about mischief-making and she would hate to have to work with a little terror like that running round her feet. All she could hope was she wouldn’t have anything to do with him while she was working, for a public bar was certainly no place for such a little boy.
By the end of the week Annie was surprised how tired she was, given that she had spent much of her time perched on a bar stool by the till while her new barmaid, Gracie, ran around after the customers. But the constant buzz of conversation and the fog of smoke that permanently filled the atmosphere had given her a headache. Tobacco was supposed to be in short supply but there was no shortage of cigarettes among the American soldiers who were distributing packages of tens and twenties generously.
One afternoon Annie felt in desperate need of a rest and longed for a chance to go back upstairs for a brief break. As they weren’t very busy, she signalled her intentions to Gracie and got down from the bar stool. She was about to slip away behind the curtain that separated the vestibule to her living quarters from the public bar when she saw a young girl, with long blonde hair straggling over her shoulders, push her way through the double doors of the street entrance. Her greasy-looking fringe almost covered her eyebrows and her eyes were virtually invisible as she tried to peer out from underneath. Her clothes were even shabbier than most of the young women who came into the Rovers