My first weekend of freedom has turned
out to be my last, just as I guessed it might.
Dad popped his head round my bedroom door after he’d got the last train
off and told me that he’d arranged from me to start at Mrs Clay’s on Monday –
today. Felt ever so disappointed, I
thought that he might at least try to get me on the railways somehow or
other. I couldn’t see any exciting
future working for Mrs Clay and I still can’t after today. Weighing out butter and sugar is even more
boring that I imagined.
So I had a blow-out over the weekend and
took the train to Worth on Saturday to buy a new hat, then spent Sunday in the
park listening to the band with Edith Turner.
Leaving school hasn’t knocked any sense into her.
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