Lover by Laura Wilson Page B

the train this morning— Blinds must be kept down after dark —only someone had crossed out the word ‘Blinds’ and written ‘Knickers’ instead. She was terrifically worked up about it. I agreed that people shouldn’t write on notices, but secretly wanted to laugh. Thought afterwards that this is clearly what happens to spinsters who spend their lives toiling in offices and never do anything else—to be avoided at all costs. That started me thinking about Frank again, what it would be like if I were to marry him. I got as far as imagining what the children would look like before I realised that the whole business was absurd, embarrassing, and horribly typical of the sort of female turn of mind I thoroughly despise. In any case, the man hasn’t proposed to me yet! I wondered how I shall feel if he doesn’t , and realised with horror that I shall be rather put out… Heavens! Vanity, thy name is Lucy Armitage.
    Great excitement when Mr Bridges came in to see Miss H, and on the way out stopped at my desk. He said he’d seen me in the shelter yesterday, and admired my frock. I managed to stammer out a thank-you, and he said, ‘I should thank you , Miss Armitage. Gazing at you was a delightful way of passing the time.’
    In for a penny, I thought, and I said, ‘I saw you looking.’
    â€˜Oh, you noticed. And I thought I was being so discreet. Ever thought of becoming a spy?’
    I said I didn’t think I’d be terribly good at it, and he said, ‘Well, aren’t you at least curious about my knowing your name?’ Because we don’t have them on the desks—well, Miss Henderson does, but she’s in charge. The rest of us don’t. I said I was curious, and he said, ‘I asked La Belle Henderson.’ He leaned forward. ‘She’s a bit of a dragon, isn’t she? But she didn’t scare me, because I asked her something else, too—how’d you like to be borrowed for the day, tomorrow? We need a capable pair of hands upstairs, and it’s much easier to bring Mohammet to the Mountain than t’other way round. Not that you’re a mountain, of course…far from it. More of a reed, if I may say so. The old girl puts your price above rubies, you know—it took all my powers of persuasion. I had to bribe her with torch batteries.’
    â€˜You didn’t, did you?’
    â€˜No, but I would have done, in order to secure your services. And I promised faithfully that we’d return you in one piece. What do you say?’
    â€˜Well…yes.’ As if I had any choice in the matter—but it was nice to be asked for a change, instead of ordered about.
    â€˜Good. I knew you wouldn’t let me down in my hour of need. See you tomorrow, then.’
    I was flabbergasted! Afterwards, all the girls crowded round, wanting to know what he’d said to me. Vi and Phyllis are crazy over him, but Miss Henderson overheard and pulled us all up short by saying, ‘That’s enough nonsense; he’s a married man.’ She sounded disappointed. Lord knows why—she must be forty-five if she’s a day! But I felt a tiny prick of disappointment, too, and Vi and Phyll looked most downcast. Still, Mr Bridges chose me , and not them, which certainly says something, although I’m not quite sure what. Probably better not to speculate. Perhaps he’s just a flirt. Some men are, and that’s harmless enough. I heard Mums’s voice in my head, telling me I’m sailing in dangerous waters, and some men go all out to spoil a girl. This expression irritates me no end because it seems to put the entire female species on a par with a fancy tablecloth. Mums managed, with no effort on her part, to needle me all afternoon, no matter how much I tried to ignore her.
    Frank met me on the corner after work, and we had a cup of tea and some very forlorn-looking currant buns. At least, the waitress