Sugar And Spice

My new job at Pencarney’s would have been sweet, if not for the fearsome Miss Acaster..

I WAITED as Miss Acaster’s gaze flicked up and down my worn winter coat, then back to my written reference.

“Mr Jepson let you go owing to his retirement?”

“Yes, he closed the chemist’s on Wilson Street. Otherwise, he’d have kept me on.”

| bit my lip as Miss Acaster, head of staff at Pencarney’s, scrutinised me once more.

“Nails,” she barked.

| held them out, shivering.

In the corridor outside, three other girls sat waiting to be interviewed for the one seasonal job at Pencarney Confectioners.

“You live at home, Miss Bryce?”

“Y-yes up Hunter’s Lane. My dad works ata bottling factory, my mam cleans for the big houses on

“No need for your life story. You’re single?”

| nodded.

“Good. You’d be surprised at the married women who come in here with their ring removed, trying to get work.

“I’m wise to that ruse, Miss Bryce!”

| swallowed my fear, recalling Mam’s words before I'd set off this morning.

“You’re a hard worker and a good girl. Sit up straight, point your chin to the stars and let the rest take care of itself.”

Now tried to do exactly that, taking the initiative to Miss Acaster.

“I never took a day off sick at Jepson’s, and only need to be shown a thing once.”

Miss Acaster treated me to a particularly piercing gaze.

Mam knew her by sight in our town by the Severn. They said Miss Acaster had survived the Spanish

flu that claimed her betrothed.

She had an aversion to “malingering”, having braved so much herself.

It’s only for the Christmas season at first,” she said finally. But should you suit the position, it may become permanent.