by Anne Douglas
Hands shot up all over the room. Could Mr Muirhead outline some of the procedures?
Certainly he could. Keeping checks on stock and supplies, keeping records, particularly of expenditure, paying and checking bills, carrying out simple accounting, liaising with staff and customers, writing reports for senior management – and that was just the start.
At the looks on their faces, Mr Muirhead laughed.
‘Obviously, newcomers will not be running offices from the beginning and will receive training anyway, but this course will make sure you know what will be expected of you. If you can show that, you’ll be better placed for getting a job.’
‘That’s all we want,’ someone muttered, and there were murmurs of agreement.
Another hand went up from a young man with a shock of red hair at the front of the room.
‘You talk about simple accounting – how good have we got to be at arithmetic?’
‘To do well in this field, I’d say it’s essential to be quite good,’ Mr Muirhead told him. ‘The job really calls for a logical mind as well as practical skills.’
‘Lets out the lassies, eh?’ the red-headed man said with a laugh, at which the girls cried, ‘Shame!’ and the young woman next to Elinor flushed scarlet.
‘Please apologize for that remark!’ she shouted across the classroom. ‘My best subject at school was arithmetic, I’ll have you know.’
With a glance at his list of names, Mr Muirhead said curtly, ‘Mr MacLean, please do as Miss Cordiner says and apologize for a quite uncalled-for remark.’
‘Only bit of fun, Mr Muirhead.’
‘I’m waiting, Mr MacLean.’
The red-haired young man stood up, gravely bowed towards Miss Cordiner and said, ‘So sorry, no offence meant.’
‘I won’t say “None taken” as I am offended,’ she snapped back. ‘But I accept your apology on behalf of the women in this class.’
‘May I make it quite clear from the start that no kind of joking offences will be tolerated here,’ Mr Muirhead declared. ‘Anyone guilty of them will be shown the door. Understood?’
‘Understood!’ the girls cried, while the men nodded and made a few muttering noises that could be taken as assent.
‘Get this all the time at work, eh?’ Miss Cordiner whispered to Elinor, her colour gradually fading. ‘Men thinking women can’t do as well as they can?’
Is that really what I have to look forward to? Elinor wondered. Working only with women, she’d no experience of the sort of prejudice Miss Cordiner was talking about, except, of course, where votes for women were concerned. Yes, there was prejudice for you. She would have liked to ask her desk companion where she worked, except that Mr Muirhead was looking impatient and clearing his throat.
‘Could we all settle down now, please, and forget this diversion? For the rest of the time this evening, I’d like to tell you about some of the methods used to keep records and to bring up information when required. It might be helpful if you take down what I put on the board here and we’ll go into the detail at the next class.’
Silence fell, except for the squeak of the tutor’s chalk on the blackboard and the laboured breathing of some of the men poring over their notebooks. There seemed a good deal to write, a good deal to learn, but as she worked on, Elinor felt she was getting somewhere. Maybe not in the academic field she’d first planned, but on the path to a more rewarding job than being in service. For these were concrete things she was learning, facts that should stand her in good stead, and if it was perhaps too early to be sure of an end – this was, after all, early days – when the bell rang for the end of the evening class, she still put down her pen with a contented sigh.
Fourteen
‘Thank you, everyone,’ Mr Muirhead called, shaking chalk from his hands after cleaning the board. ‘We’ve made a good start and I look forward to seeing you all next week.’
Miss Cordiner and Elinor, exchanging further smiles, stood up and stretched with the rest of the class.
‘Pretty tight fit, these desks,’ Miss Cordiner murmured. ‘By the way, my name’s Brenda.’
‘I’m Elinor Rae. Mind if I ask, do you work in an office at the moment?’
Brenda made a face. ‘Oh, yes, for my sins, I work in the office of a boys’ school. No picnic, I can tell you. The whole place needs sorting out, but my boss is a man who won’t let me do anything. I’m desperate to get into some big firm where I can really organize things. How about you?’
‘I’m in service at the Primrose Club,’ Elinor told her. ‘Like you, I’m keen to move on.’
‘Don’t blame you!’
As they moved to collect their hats and jackets, other girls came up to congratulate Brenda for standing up to ‘that’ Mr MacLean. ‘Cheeky devil,’ one was remarking, when the cheeky devil himself joined them, pulling on his coat and grinning.
‘No hard feelings?’ he asked.
‘As long as you behave yourself,’ Brenda replied coldly.
‘Oh, he will,’ called Mr Muirhead, standing in the doorway, rattling his keys. ‘That right, Mr MacLean?’
‘Scout’s honour, Mr Muirhead.’
‘On your way, then.’
As the students moved into the corridor and began to depart, Brenda glanced at a little watch she took from her bag. ‘Listen,’ she said to Elinor, ‘there’s a café stays open late round here, we could go and have a cup of tea.’
‘Oh, I’m sorry, I’d have liked to, but I think I should get back.’
‘Maybe next week, eh?’
‘Yes, I’ll try.’
They were at the outer door to the school when Mr Muirhead caught up with them.
‘Enjoy your first class?’ he asked cheerfully. ‘Apart from Mr MacLean’s intervention?’
‘I thought you handled that very well,’ Brenda replied. ‘And, thanks, I did enjoy the class.’
‘I did, too,’ Elinor told him.
‘I’m glad.’ He gave her a quick glance. ‘Weren’t any problems for you, were there? I mean, getting away from the club?’
‘Oh, you mean, because I was late?’ She blushed. ‘No, no problems, it was just my father called to see me unexpectedly.’
He was not to know that saying those words, ‘my father called to see me’, was a really quite extraordinary experience for her, and only nodded with a smile.
‘That’s good. Well, I see the caretaker is waiting to boot us out – may I walk with you ladies to the tram?’
‘That’s all right,’ Brenda replied. ‘I don’t take a tram; I only live up the road.’
They stood in the street in the dusk of the evening, hesitating a moment, until Brenda walked away, calling goodnight over her shoulder, to which the others called, ‘See you next week!’ Then Mr Muirhead looked down at Elinor.
‘If you’re on your way back to the Primrose, I believe we’ll be taking the same tram. I live in the West End myself, or at least my mother does, and I share her flat.’
‘Nice,’ she commented.
‘Yes, though I’ll probably find a place of my own eventually. Just haven’t got round to it.’
They walked in companionable silence to the tram stop, where they stood only a moment or two before their tram arrived and they climbed on, Mr Muirhead insisting on paying for Elinor’s ticket.
‘What’s a penny between friends?’ he asked lightly over her protests. ‘I don’t think it’ll break the bank.’
As they were shaken along on their short journey, she was aware of his grey eyes often on her face and racked her brains for something interesting to say, only nothing came to mind. Finally, she asked where in the West End his mother lived.
‘Shandwick Place. We live over a dress shop.’
‘My folks live over a shop, too. Dad’s a cobbler; we live over the shop he rents.’
‘And where’s that?’
She hesitated, looking for his reaction.
‘Friar’s Wynd,’ she said at last, and found no real reaction at all, apart fr
om a polite nod.
‘Here we are!’ she cried, gladly rising for their stop. ‘This is us.’
When they’d left the tram, he said he would see her to the club, looking surprised when she immediately said that that wouldn’t be necessary.
‘Thanks all the same, Mr Muirhead, but it won’t take me a minute to get to the club. I’ll be quite all right.’
As though she could possibly risk being seen with him outside the Primrose! There might well be someone looking out, and she could just imagine the questions that would be thrown at her when she got in, after they’d seen her with her handsome escort.
‘As you wish, then,’ he answered, touching his hat. ‘Goodnight, Miss Rae. We’ll meet again next week, I hope.’
‘Oh, yes, next week – I’ll be there! Goodnight, Mr Muirhead.’
Wonderfully relieved, she darted away through the traffic, knowing he was watching until she’d turned at Maule’s Corner and was out of his sight. By the time she’d reached the Primrose, she knew he would be home in Shandwick Place, probably telling his mother about his class, probably not mentioning her, just as she would eventually be talking about the class, too, and not mentioning him. Thinking about him, though.
‘How did it go?’ asked Mattie and Gerda in their attic room, when she was back, taking off her jacket, unpinning her hat. ‘Did you enjoy it?’
‘Went very well. Yes, I enjoyed it. Met some interesting people.’
‘Any men?’ asked Mattie.
‘The class is nearly all men, as it happens.’
‘Aha!’ cried Gerda. ‘Told you, I might be signing up for night school next year.’
‘Me, too,’ said Mattie, as Elinor turned aside, smiling a secret smile.
Fifteen
Saturday afternoon found Elinor back at Friar’s Wynd, walking with a light step through the children playing the old games she remembered playing herself – peevers, which was a sort of hopscotch, giant steps and baby steps, tig, cock a roosty – how the old days came back! Some of the boys were playing kick the can again. Hadn’t that been the game Barry Howat had joined in? Said he played football, and he looked fit enough. But her thoughts were only with what she’d find at home, and how relieved her mother would be to see her.
Her father was still at work in his little shop when she looked in – with a customer, too, so that was promising. Not that Mrs Angus from one of the tenements, wearing a shabby shawl, looked as if she’d be paying out much. Elinor could hear her asking her dad if he could do anything with the ancient boots he was studying. ‘All I’ve got,’ she was saying. ‘I’ve had to come out in just ma slippers, look. Now, see what you can do, Mr Rae, and I’ll come in Monday. They’ll no’ be too dear, eh?’
‘I’ll do what I can,’ Walter replied, looking over a pair of half-moon spectacles at Elinor and, to her relief, appearing pleased to see her. ‘Off you go, then, Mrs Angus, and I’ll see you Monday. Here’s my daughter coming home.’
‘Wee Ellie?’ Mrs Angus exclaimed, turning to look at Elinor with a smile on her worn face. ‘Seems no time at all since you were playing peevers wi’ Jeanie. Now you’re both grown and Jeanie’s married. A babbie on the way, and all.’
‘Hadn’t heard that!’ Elinor cried. ‘Will you remember me to her, Mrs Angus? Tell her I hope all goes well.’
‘I surely will.’ Mrs Angus, letting herself out, waved goodbye as Elinor approached her father.
‘Here I am, then, Dad. I said I’d come.’
‘Aye, and I’m glad to see you. You go on up and see your ma – I’ll be up when I shut up shop.’
For a moment, they exchanged long, steady looks, then Elinor hurried up the stairs.
She was, of course, greeted with rapture as Hessie hugged her, then held her at arm’s length to look at her, then hugged her again, and burst into tears.
‘Now, didn’t I tell you your dad was missing you?’ she cried. ‘Didn’t I say he’d come round?’
‘Come round in more ways than one,’ Elinor answered, laughing, as she released herself and took off her hat. ‘Did he tell you he came to the Primrose? Just when I was setting off for evening class, too.’
‘Told me when he came back, said everything was fine. You could’ve knocked me over with a feather. I mean, I knew he wanted to make things up, but I never dreamed he’d go round to your club. That took some doing, for him.’
‘So, how’s he been?’ asked Elinor, filling the kettle. ‘The way he was when I saw him on Thursday, you’d never think he could be in a bad mood.’
‘Aye, that’s the way he is.’ Hessie shrugged. ‘Blew up a bit this morning, to be honest. Found a hole in his sock and you’d have thought it was the end of the world. Then he settled down and was all right again. But tell me about this class you’ve joined. I want to hear all about it.’
And of course, Hessie wasn’t the only one who wanted that. When Elinor had finished giving her the details over a cup of tea, she had to repeat them all over again when Corrie came in, and then yet again when Walter came up, by which time tea was on the table and the atmosphere was the happiest she’d known at home for a long time.
‘Seems funny to me, lassies going out to that sort of work,’ her father remarked. ‘But I suppose it’s as good as being in service, as long as you take care and don’t get mixed up with any fellas, eh?’
‘Why, Walt, Elinor might meet some nice young man with a good job!’ Hessie cried. ‘She’s never likely to meet any at the Primrose Club. They’re all women there.’
‘Any men on this new course?’ Walter asked, and Elinor had to admit that there were.
‘But girls as well, Dad, and I sit next to a nice young woman who could be a friend.’
‘Elinor can look after herself, anyway,’ Corrie put in. ‘I think it’s grand that she’s thought of going to night school. I’m planning to go to a class myself next year.’
‘What next?’ asked his father, but not too sharply. ‘Everybody seems set on going back to school, Hessie. Looks like you and me will have to join something.’
‘Dad, you could,’ Elinor said seriously. ‘The WEA runs all sorts of classes – history, painting – everything. And they don’t cost a lot.’
But Hessie shook her head and said she’d never have the time, and Walter said he’d other things to do when he finished work. Everyone knew what those things were, but no one mentioned the Dragon or the Castle. This was a pleasant time they were all enjoying, and no one wanted to spoil it.
‘The chap who takes our course actually works for the WEA,’ Elinor volunteered, as they cleared the table. ‘He’s quite important, really, has to organize all the courses.’
‘And is he nice?’ asked Hessie. ‘No’ too strict, I mean?’
‘No, no, he keeps us all in order but you couldn’t call him strict. A very good teacher, as well.’
‘That’s grand. I’m glad you’re meeting all these new people and enjoying yourself.’
‘Gives you something to look forward to,’ remarked Corrie.
‘True,’ Elinor agreed, but said no more. What she looked forward to was her own affair.
Sixteen
For the following week’s class, Elinor tried so hard to make up for her previous lateness that she arrived too early. At least, that was what she thought, but when she got to the classroom, looking this time as composed as possible, it was to find Mr Muirhead already at his table, surrounded by young women. Even Brenda was there, admiring photographs of various pieces of equipment he was passing round and listening closely with the others to his descriptions – which left Elinor feeling rather taken aback. How foolish! Why shouldn’t the other girls be early? She knew it was only the way they were all looking up at the tutor that annoyed her. And that was foolish, too.
Standing in the doorway, she cleared her throat, at which Mr Muirhead looked up and smiled and laid down his photographs.
‘Miss Rae! Come in. I’ve just been showing some pictures of a mechanical calculating machine – tha
t’s the Hollerith – and other aids you might find in a large office, but I’ll keep them for later, as it’s time for class.’
‘At least I’m no’ late this time,’ Elinor murmured, moving to be near Brenda again, who said that the fellows were just arriving.
‘Sound like a herd of elephants, eh?’
True enough, the heavy footfalls of the young men all coming in together were thunderous, but at the sight of their tutor they hastily quietened down, with even Tam MacLean taking his seat and sending a grin to Brenda, which she, of course, ignored. Everyone seemed keen to listen to Mr Muirhead, who was expanding on some of the items he’d discussed the previous week, relieved perhaps that this time there were no interruptions and no need for threats.
How different evening classes were from classes at school, Elinor realized. Unlike many young pupils, adult students were keen to learn, not only because they’d paid good money for their course, but also because their learning could lead to better things. They were proof, it seemed to her, that she’d been right: education of one sort or another was the key to a better life, and the more she dwelled on it, the more passionate she felt that everyone was entitled to that better life.
When the bell rang for the end of another class, Mr Muirhead looked obviously pleased that it had gone so well. There had been plenty of questions, plenty of interest, from the girls as well as the men, for it was clear enough that they had already determined they weren’t going to lag behind, and as Brenda murmured to Elinor, ‘Snibs to Tam MacLean, eh?’
‘I don’t think we’ll have any more trouble from him,’ Elinor said. ‘Though he’ll never admit it, even if we do prove him wrong.’
‘How about that cup of tea we said we’d have? Can you make it this week?’