‘I hope everything is okay with my work,’ she continued, anticipating anything her supervisor had to say. ‘I have been a little distracted lately with everything going on in my family.’
The woman smiled and raised a hand to stop her. ‘We’ve all been distracted, Julia. There’s a war going on. No, this has nothing to do with that.’
Julia noticed Mrs Hathaway seemed nervous. She rose and walked to the window, playing with a silver cross on a chain around her neck as she stared out, apparently trying to find the right way to put what she needed to say. Julia hoped to God she wasn’t being sacked. But the next words out of her supervisor’s mouth took her by complete surprise.
‘Julia, we have something we want you to do. The higher-ups have been on to me, and they need another girl. They asked me to send the best I’ve got.’ She swivelled on her heels and peered directly at her. ‘And that, of course, would be you. You’re the fastest in the pool by far and the most accurate. I know I can always count on you. This afternoon you need to go and meet with a Mr…’ She strode to her desk to review a note she’d placed there. ‘A Mr Woodbridge. They’re going to ask you a series of questions and have you take a typing test, and if it all works out, you’ll be doing some work for them.’
Julia began to panic. She loved the office she worked in and had a number of kind work colleagues. Though she wouldn’t call them close, they were familiar to her. She’d already felt so much emotion today, the last thing she wanted was her nice, secure, easy job to change into anything more uncertain. ‘Another office?’ she enquired meekly. ‘Will I still be in London?’ The panic was evident in her tone.
Her supervisor shook her head. ‘I can’t tell you any more than that. You need to go up and see him this afternoon at one o’clock. If it all works out, I can tell you more about the situation later. Go back to work now and try to put it out of your mind till then.’
Julia nodded, taking the piece of paper that was handed to her with the unfamiliar name scrawled on it, and felt apprehensive. Returning to her desk, and even with her supervisor’s urgings, she was unable to put anything out of her mind. She typed away absently, considering a thousand different scenarios this could mean, and none of them felt good.
At break time the girls were eager to know what was going on but Julia was none the wiser than they were. When she asked if any of them knew a Mr Woodbridge, they all shook their heads. ‘She was waiting for you for about twenty minutes, pacing up and down in front of your desk. Whatever it is, it must be important,’ surmised one of them.
At a quarter to one, she left the typing pool and climbed the stairs to the number of the room she’d been given, on a floor where many of the prime minister’s own staff worked. Finding the correct door, Julia’s heart was pounding as she knocked on it, and from beyond it a polite upper-class voice reached out to her. ‘Come in.’
Inside was a neat-looking man with a balding head sitting behind an enormous mahogany desk. He peered up at her over the top of his half-rimmed glasses. ‘Ah, Mrs Sullivan,’ he announced, as though he already knew her, but they had never met. ‘Come on in and sit down.’ She did as he asked and sat down in front of the desk, hovering on the edge of the seat, one of her fluttering hands nervously smoothing down her skirt. ‘Did Mrs Hathaway tell you anything about the position?’
Julia shook her head. ‘She just said she would tell me more once I’ve been through a test.’
The man nodded his approval. ‘All right, then we’ll get started, shall we?’
Julia nodded.
‘First of all, I have to ask you a series of questions, and I need you to answer them as honestly as possible. Then I need you to do a typing test, a shorthand test and a transcription test. All of those skills will be needed for this particular job.’ He must have sensed her apprehension because glancing over at her his businesslike expression softened and his tone mellowed. ‘Mrs Hathaway tells me