A Lesson in Secrets Read Online Free PDF

grieving.” Maisie thought quickly. She knew Sandra was in a difficult position. The loft accommodation came with Eric’s job, and Sandra had not worked—except for helping Reg with his bookkeeping—since her marriage; there were few opportunities for a married woman to find work.
    “What can I do, Sandra? How can I help you?”
    Sandra sniffed, and took a final sip of her sherry. “I need a job, Miss, and I wondered if you knew of anyone who needed an office worker.” She paused. “Well, anything really—cleaning, housekeeping. I’ll do anything, but I don’t want to waste the hours I put in at night school. I can do all sorts of secretarial work, you know, but I’ll turn my hand to anything, because—” She paused again to take breath, as if the weight of her problems was pressing the air from her body. “Because I can’t stay in the loft, not anymore. Reg wants another mechanic soon. That, and, well, as he says, it’s not right, a widow living on her own above a garage. He’s a good man, but, you know, I can see his point. He’s said I can stay for another week, and I just . . . I just don’t know what to do. I’ve been to most of the shops up and down Oxford Street and Regent Street, looking for work, and I’ve been applying for jobs, and—”
    “Shhhh, it’s all going to be all right, Sandra. Come on, let’s get some hot soup into you, and I’ll tell you what I have in mind.”
    Over supper, Maisie asked Sandra if she would like to come to work for her, on a part-time basis to begin with. She explained that over the past few months, the task of keeping good records and filing away reports and invoices had fallen by the wayside. She did not share details of her own change in circumstance, though she was sure that Sandra would soon grasp the situation. She explained that she needed a private secretary, someone who could be trusted with confidential matters concerning the business, and who would also support Billy in the day-to-day running of the office. In addition, Maisie said that she would speak to her friend’s husband; Douglas Partridge was a busy writer who was currently working on a new book and, due to the fact that he had lost an arm in the war—a loss that hampered his progress—according to his wife, he could do with a secretary. Perhaps they could work out a plan where Sandra worked for Maisie in the mornings, and then went on to assist Mr. Partridge in the afternoons. With two jobs, Sandra would have a reasonable income.
    Maisie also extended an invitation for Sandra to live at her flat, moving her belongings back into the small bedroom that Maisie referred to as the “box room,” which had been Sandra’s room for some weeks before she was married.
    Sandra began weeping again. “I hope you don’t think I came here for you to do this for me, Miss Dobbs. I just thought, well, you know so many people, and you might hear of something.”
    “Don’t worry, Sandra, it’s all right, really it is. I am so very sad that your terrible misfortune brought you to me; however, I think I can help. I need some assistance in the office, and though I am sure you will get us sorted out very quickly, I also want to render our filing system easier to use. The files and notes go back many years, with a wealth of information that I draw upon to this day, so it is no small task. And fortunately, we have had more work coming in of late—just as Mr. Beale is about to leave for Kent and the hop-picking.”
    “I’m sure I’ll do my best, Miss Dobbs.”
    Maisie refilled Sandra’s soup bowl, and when she returned from the kitchen, she looked at Sandra directly. “And there’s one more thing, Sandra. Your confidence extends to my visitors here at the flat, and to any aspect of my life to which you are privy.” She paused. “Though, having said that, I will be away for some weeks, starting at the end of the month. I’ll be back on occasion, and I’ll keep in touch. You will have a means to