Tuesday 14th September 1937
One of those delightful days when all is well. Took a comfortable little order at the new Vicarage building site, Eastwoodbury, then cycled to Leigh on Sea (Without the suit case, feeling a free man!) to collect a half gallon can of paint for return to the Works.
Back to Eastwoodbury; strolled down the road and just caught the noon bus. Strolled onto the LNER platform at Southend and just caught the train to Liverpool Street. Bound for the Office, an order in my pocket, and no cares! Chatted to the fellow passengers, smoked, read an interesting novel (“Jew Boy”, somewhat - blunt in parts.) The journey seemed very rapid!
Luncheon snack at an ABC – a delicious pear flan. The office: pleasant converse with Mr Reddall, Miss Ewings, Miss Bunce, Mr Pullen, Mr Baker. Remained talking to FCR long after the office had closed. Nothing of vital importance, but these discussions make the distant representative feel less isolated.
Eventually, the two of us came back to Liverpool Street together, discussing modern looks and what not. FCR’s train went first. He shook hands and dashed along the platform, turning round to wave “cheerio!” A strange sales manager.
I went into the tea room for some cheese, bread and butter, and tea. Ninepence. Gave the girl (a nice girl, too) a pound note. She gave me a hell of a lot of silver and then hesitated. “That’s alright” said I, imagining I’d received 19/-. “Oh no,” she said firmly, almost reproachfully, “let me at least give you the silver” and produced another 1/6d. Certainly, a charming girl! I was too surprised to be properly grateful. Caught the 9:45 down.
Back to Eastwoodbury; strolled down the road and just caught the noon bus. Strolled onto the LNER platform at Southend and just caught the train to Liverpool Street. Bound for the Office, an order in my pocket, and no cares! Chatted to the fellow passengers, smoked, read an interesting novel (“Jew Boy”, somewhat - blunt in parts.) The journey seemed very rapid!
Luncheon snack at an ABC – a delicious pear flan. The office: pleasant converse with Mr Reddall, Miss Ewings, Miss Bunce, Mr Pullen, Mr Baker. Remained talking to FCR long after the office had closed. Nothing of vital importance, but these discussions make the distant representative feel less isolated.
Eventually, the two of us came back to Liverpool Street together, discussing modern looks and what not. FCR’s train went first. He shook hands and dashed along the platform, turning round to wave “cheerio!” A strange sales manager.
I went into the tea room for some cheese, bread and butter, and tea. Ninepence. Gave the girl (a nice girl, too) a pound note. She gave me a hell of a lot of silver and then hesitated. “That’s alright” said I, imagining I’d received 19/-. “Oh no,” she said firmly, almost reproachfully, “let me at least give you the silver” and produced another 1/6d. Certainly, a charming girl! I was too surprised to be properly grateful. Caught the 9:45 down.
posted by Paul Wilson at 12:56 pm
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