‘I’m studying English main with drama and social studies,’ Kate divulged.
‘Perfect, you can coach the kids in drama and organise a play for parents’ day. The work won’t be too onerous,’ he added when he saw a sceptical expression cross Kate’s face. ‘There’s a ratio of eight kids to one counsellor.’
‘There could be better paid jobs on offer next door.’
‘There could,’ Bobby allowed, ‘but not when you take the cost of food and rent into consideration.’
Penny followed Kate out of the door. Bobby grabbed her arm.
‘You’ll be working with the fifteen-to-eighteen-year-olds alongside me. So there’s absolutely no need for you, or Kate, to talk to anyone. Take it from me, you’ll love Resonance.’
She recalled Kate’s advice about the Sixties and her resolve to live the free emancipated life of a modern woman. The night had been wonderful, but apart from Bobby’s determination to entice her to work alongside him for the duration of the summer, there’d been no promises. Nor did she expect any one day into a relationship. But Bobby had already soothed the emotional bruises Rich had inflicted. And after the few hours they’d spent together, she knew that if she allowed him to get any closer he could easily break, not just bruise, her heart.
‘I hope you didn’t put yourself out. I really do want to stay in the city,’ she explained more coolly than she felt.
‘By all means look,’ Bobby said as she joined Kate in the room that had been assigned to employers, ‘but you won’t get a better offer than me and Camp Resonance.’
‘We’re experienced waitresses and barmaids,’ Kate assured the middle-aged woman manning the reception desk in the suite where prospective ‘employers’ were sitting behind tables stacked with application forms and brochures. Kate was stretching the truth. At fifteen they’d both found Saturday jobs as waitresses in one of the Italian cafés in Pontypridd. But whereas Kate had stuck it out until they’d left for college, Penny’d given up after a few months to take a Saturday job in Marks and Spencer’s. Without the tips, it was less money, but it was also easier work and shorter hours.
A middle-aged balding man with a paunch left his table and approached Kate. ‘Did you say you were an experienced waitress?’ he leered.
‘Yes.’ She gave him a look that would have frozen a curry.
‘I’m Roland Black, the assistant manager of the hotel—’
‘Assistant manager?’
Roland ignored Bobby’s sceptical interruption. ‘If you girls want to stay in the city, you should work here. You’ve seen first hand the clientele we cater for.’ He waved his hand around the room as though he were personally responsible for the decor. ‘We need a waitress and a switchboard operator.’
‘I can’t operate a switchboard. What are the hours and wages for the waitress?’ Kate enquired briskly. Early widowhood, coupled with a stunning figure and the blonde hair and grey eyes she’d passed on to her daughter, had taught Kate’s mother how to deal with lechers. It was a skill she’d taken care to teach Kate.
‘First you should think of the benefits.’ The man ran his tongue around his lips. ‘You’ll be living in the centre of New York city, all meals and accommodation paid. That alone is worth a fortune. And pretty girls like you will have the male members of staff queuing up to show you around New York in your free time. In fact, I may show you around myself when I’m off duty—’
‘The hours,’ Kate interrupted.
‘Six days on, one day off. Forty-eight hours a week.’
‘What meals will I be covering?’
‘Breakfast, lunch and dinner but you’ll have plenty of free time in between.’
‘You want me to work split shifts, starting early morning and finishing late evening,’ Kate challenged.
‘Think of the time you’ll have off,’ Roland coaxed.
‘I know exactly how much free time I’ll have. I worked split waitressing shifts last summer in a British holiday camp. By the time I left the dining hall and changed out of my uniform, I had less than an hour before I had to change back and report to the hall to lay the tables for the next meal.’
It was their experience last year in Barry Butlin’s that had made both her and Kate determined never to take a live-in job at a holiday camp, where they’d be at the beck, call and mercy of management, again.
‘The basic wage is eighty cents an hour but in a place like this you could make a couple of hundred dollars a week in tips,’ Roland smiled.
‘How much would you deduct for living costs?’ Kate asked.
‘Thirty-five dollars.’
Kate did a quick calculation in her head. ‘So, I’d be working for three dollars forty cents a week plus tips.’
‘As I said, smart girl like you could pocket a couple of hundred dollars a week. But I only have a vacancy for one waitress and one switchboard operator. You can operate a switchboard?’
Penny had no idea why Roland Black had singled her out for that job, after Kate’s assertion that they were both experienced waitresses and barmaids. But with thoughts of living in the centre of New York and Bobby’s inaugural lecture fresh in her mind, she answered confidently. ‘Of course.’
‘Ninety-five cents an hour, basic forty-eight-hour week, there could be overtime, but no tips and, like your friend, your accommodation and meals will be thirty-five dollars a week.’
Before she could point out that she’d be left with ten dollars sixty cents a week and no prospect of earning tips, Bobby stepped in.
‘If they take those jobs the girls will be worked to death. They may live in the centre of New York but they won’t be left with a spare minute to see anything.’ Bobby turned to her. ‘At least in the camp you’ll be guaranteed a day off a week and can come into the city to see the sights.’
‘And sleep in the street because they won’t be able to afford a bed.’ Roland smirked. ‘I’ll give you girls an immediate trial.’
‘I’d like to see the restaurant I’d be working in and our accommodation before I make any decision,’ Kate said.
Roland Black snapped his fingers and a girl in receptionist’s uniform came running from another table. ‘Show Miss …’
‘Burgess, Kate Burgess,’ Kate introduced herself.
‘The restaurant and staff accommodation. While I take Miss …’
‘John. Penny John.’
‘Down to reception to give her a trial on the switchboard.’
While Roland Black’s minion led Kate up the corridor towards the public rooms of the hotel, Roland Black steered Penny out of the room and hit the lift button. Before the doors closed Bobby stepped in beside them. As the assistant manager had been eyeing her the same way he’d been eyeing Kate, she was grateful for Bobby’s presence.
‘Mind if I watch?’ As Bobby was already in the tiny cupboard behind the reception area that served as the ‘telephone exchange’ his question was superfluous.
‘I do,’ Roland retorted.
‘As one of the staff responsible for orientation it would help enormously if we have positive outcomes that we can relate to the next intake of European students.’
‘Your presence will make Miss John nervous,’ Mr Black snapped.
‘She looks a confident girl to me,’ Bobby countered. ‘You don’t mind, do you, Miss John?’
She shook her head because she couldn’t trust herself not to laugh.
A sharp-featured middle-aged woman was sitting in front of a switchboard, headphones on, mechanically jamming plugs into various holes, while speaking in a high-pitched robotic voice.
‘Good morning, how may I help you? … One moment, sir … I’m connecting you … Connecting you now, madam … Room 652 on the line for you, sir … How may I help you, sir? … Connecting you to room service now, sir … Have a nice day, madam …’
Roland tapped the operator on the shoulder. ‘Miss Schumacher, would you mind giving up your seat to Miss John for ten minutes?’
‘You’re the new relief?’
Miss Schumacher looked delighted at the prospect.
‘It’s only a trial.’ She’d watched the operator for less than a minute but it had been long enough for her to determine there was no way she could man a switchboard.
‘If it means I won’t have to work another double shift, you’re welcome to my chair, my headphones and everything else that goes with the job, Miss John.’ The operator pushed one more plug home before leaving her seat.
She stood back and pretended to study the board. ‘Our European switchboards are nothing like this.’
Bobby covered his mouth with his hand. The cough he’d intended sounded like a strangulated squeal.
‘Surely they can’t be that different?’ Roland snapped.
‘I assure you they are,’ she contradicted, trying to sound authoritative, which wasn’t easy given that the switchboard was the first she’d seen.
‘Give it a try.’
She turned to Bobby. There was a mischievous glint in his eye. If she could have run out of that cubicle and the hotel, she would have. But Bobby and Roland Black were blocking her path. Cornered, she sat in the operator’s chair and picked up a plug.
Five panic-stricken plug-pushing minutes later, every telephone in the hotel was ringing, even the ones she could see the receptionists answering through the open door. The noise was deafening. But, even more nerve-racking than the ringing, was the mounting tension in the cubicle.
She knew and Roland Black knew she’d jammed the hotel switchboard.
‘You’ve never sat at a switchboard before.’ Roland Black wasn’t asking.
‘Not an American one, no,’ she hedged, in an attempt to save face. She left the chair and backed into Bobby.
‘Miss Schumacher, if you could repair the damage.’
She walked away as quickly as she could without running and headed back up the stairs.
‘Guess the advice I gave wasn’t that sound.’ Bobby caught up with her.
‘That’s the understatement of the century.’
‘Don’t be mean. I found you a job.’
‘One I don’t want.’
‘How do you know you don’t want it until you try it?’
‘It’s not in New York.’
‘It’s a couple of hours’ train ride away.’ He flattened himself against the wall to make room for a waiter who was wheeling a trolley loaded with chafing dishes down the corridor. ‘Come to the orientation welcome party with me tonight?’
‘I didn’t think I had to “go” with anyone. Isn’t it part of orientation?’
‘You have no idea what the right escort can do to open doors and enhance your social life.’
‘Any enhancement of my social life in America would be purely temporary.’
‘You’re here for four months, aren’t you?’
‘Bar a few days.’
‘With me at your side you’d move up at least three scales on the social barometer.’
‘I thought you were studying for a masters in medieval history at Oxford, not comedy.’
‘Who told you I was studying for a masters?’
Penny could have kicked herself for letting slip – a second time – that she’d been interested in him enough to question his friends. ‘A girl I was locked in a cell with in Bow Street.’
‘You met Rose Anne?’
‘We were cellmates.’
‘I was at school with Mike – her boyfriend,’ he explained. ‘I know you’re studying art, which is probably why you want to stay in the city. But art is all around and there’s masses of it in the woods in Connecticut.’
‘You’re determined to get me and Kate into this camp of yours, aren’t you?’
‘It’s not my camp but yes, I’m determined to get you there. And it might be helpful for you to have a good friend around, so you’ve someone impartial to discuss the wonders that are Bobby Brosna.’
‘There you are, Pen.’ Kate’s mouth twitched and she struggled to contain her laughter as Roland Black walked past. ‘I heard your trial didn’t work out.’
‘You should have seen her in action,’ Bobby gushed loudly for the benefit of the students who were leaving the suite. ‘I’ve never seen such courage in the face of total humiliation. Penny walked right up to that telephonist’s chair, sat in it, and …’ he paused for effect and looked around at the small crowd that had gathered around them ‘… jammed the entire communications system of the hotel.’
She wanted to be angry with Bobby for making her the butt of the joke, but she was laughing too much.
‘How did you fare?’ she asked Kate when she could speak.
‘It looked all right but I’m not staying here with Roland without you.’
‘Then I’ll get two travel passes for Camp Resonance the day after tomorrow,’ Bobby declared triumphantly.
‘Have you heard?’ Anne rushed up to them.
‘What?’ Kate asked.
‘They’re recruiting Bunny Girls for the New York Playboy Club. A dollar fifty an hour plus tips. I’m going for an interview. You coming?’
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
‘Bunny girls! You want to be bunny girls? In those costumes! With ears and fluffy, white, cotton tails old men get a thrill out of tweaking.’ Bobby shook his head in disbelief.
‘And what’s wrong with bunny girls?’ Anne demanded, hands on hips.
‘Nothing! Absolutely nothing; if that’s what you want to do with your summer in the States go ahead. I’m not sure the pioneers of the student exchange movement would approve, given that “bunny girl” can hardly be classed as an educational occupation.’
‘No, but it’ll give us the money to continue our education,’ Kate retorted.
‘There are other ways of making money.’
Kate was on a ‘burn’. ‘You mean more respectable ones?’
‘I didn’t say that,’ Bobby reminded her mildly.
‘You think we wouldn’t make good bunny girls?’ Anne, who was sensitive about her lack of height and waistline, challenged.
Bobby raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. ‘All three of you would make stunningly beautiful Playboy bunnies. And, if that’s what you want to do, go ahead.’
‘Liar,’ Anne retorted.
‘We would make beautiful Playboy bunnies,’ Kate reiterated. ‘Really?’ She raised her eyebrows. ‘I sense a “but” coming.’
She turned to Bobby. ‘Is there a “but”?’
‘I was going to say this is the era of the emancipated woman,’ he ventured. ‘Women burning bras on the altar of liberation. I didn’t think any educated modern woman would be up for life as a sex object in the Playboy world.’
‘I can be a sex object if the pay’s right,’ Kate answered swiftly. ‘Let’s go.’
‘What about the next lecture?’ Bobby asked. ‘It’s American politics. Something you should know about in an election year.’
‘As we have no right to vote in the States it’s more important we find jobs. Besides, if the next lecture is as good as yours, we won’t miss much,’ Kate added.
‘Thank you for that, Kate. I’m the forgiving sort. Give me a couple of minutes to get my car from the hotel garage and I’ll drive you to the Playboy Club,’ Bobby offered.
‘Taxi will be quicker. To the loo to repair hair and make-up?’ Kate beckoned to her and Anne.
Anne followed Kate but Bobby stepped in front of Penny.
‘You’ll love Camp Resonance once you get there.’
‘So you keep saying.’
‘If you’re back early enough to play truant this afternoon I’ll show you New York.’
‘I’d like that.’
‘And dinner tonight?’
She suppressed a smile. Sandy was right, Bobby was chasing her. ‘If I’m not playing with my new bunny friends.’
‘Mother Bunny?’ Kate stifled a giggle after the doorman in reception directed them to the lift and sent them to a top-floor office. ‘I don’t believe we’re going to be interviewed by “Mother Bunny”.’
‘Someone has to look after the bunny girls,’ Anne commented. ‘It’s just a title.’
‘I have a feeling she’s not going to be your typical Welsh mam in a hairnet and pinny,’ Kate murmured.
She noticed the lift buttons. ‘Look, there’s a little black bunny one-ear-up, one-ear-down symbol on the red lift buttons.’
‘And bunnies, ear up and down, were woven into the carpet downstairs,’ Anne said. ‘I keep pinching myself. I can’t believe I’m really in New York’s Playboy Club.’
The lift halted, the doors opened to reveal a stunning blonde bunny girl who could have posed for the centrefold in Playboy magazine. Penny and Kate stared at the heavily boned skin-tight costume.
‘How on earth do you breathe in that?’ Kate asked.
‘You don’t, honey,’ the blonde drawled in a Southern accent. She looked from Kate to Penny and Anne. ‘You English?’
‘Guilty.’ The last thing Penny wanted was to get embroiled in another conversation about Wales being part of the UK.
‘Is this a good place to work?’ Kate, never slow in asking for information, questioned.
‘You’re applying for jobs?’
‘We are.’ Anne confirmed.
She beckoned them to a corner of the corridor beside the lift. ‘I was so happy when I was invited to become a bunny. My life … well we’d need hours to go into that, so we’ll move on. But I’m the eternal optimist. As I’ve kept saying all my days, even a blind hog finds an acorn now and then. But believe me, honeys, this job’s not all it’s cracked up to be. I quit as of five minutes ago.’
‘The money’s good, isn’t it?’ Kate checked.
‘It’s fine, honey, if you only want pin money and you’ve a man on hand to pay the rent, put food on the table and cover your incidental expenses. All are downright cruel in New York – the rent and expenses I mean. Not the man. And unless your name is Rockefeller you won’t be renting around here, so that means getting a taxi when you finish your shift. They don’t come cheap in the early hours. Then there are all the bills connected with the job. You have to pay for your own tights – you can get through a dozen pairs a shift – and make-up, perfume … and whatever you do, don’t go cheap on either of those. Mother Bunny can sniff out bargain basement six blocks away.’ She looked at Kate. ‘If you’re not a natural blonde, honey, your stylist’s bill will be higher than the Empire State Building. Slightest sign of dark root and Mother Bunny comes down so hard, you’ll want to shave your head and join the GIs.’
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