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enough.’
    â€˜No need to worry, I’ll be wearing my own clothes now,’ Jess said loftily. ‘I know what’ll look right.’
    And on Monday week, Jess spent no time agonizing over what to wear, but appeared at the Princes on that first morning looking coolly attractive in a pale green blouse and patterned skirt. The day was hot and dry, and Sally Dollar, when she greeted Jess in the vestibule, was already feeling the heat, dabbing at her brow with cologne and saying she must go on a diet, she was far too plump for weather like this.
    â€˜Awful weather, anyway, eh?’
    â€˜Awful?’
    â€˜For going to the pictures, Jess! Folk don’t want to be inside when it’s nice!’
    â€˜But it’s Jezebel this week – with Bette Davis and Henry Fonda.’
    â€˜Aye, might attract a few in for them, but we’ve no’ got the air conditioning, you see.’ Sally shook her bleached head. ‘But we’ll just see how things go. I’ll let you off at five today, anyway, seeing as it’s your first day and you’ll be tired.’
    â€˜Tired? I’m sure I won’t be.’
    â€˜Well, there’s a lot to take in all at once. There’s no need for you to stay – as I say, I shouldn’t think it’ll be busy. Probably won’t even need Fred to control the queues, as there won’t be any queues.’
    â€˜Fred?’
    â€˜Fred Boyle, our man-of-all-work, dear. I’ll introduce you. Does handyman jobs around the place by day, doubles as commissionaire for opening time.’
    â€˜When he controls the queues?’ Jess laughed a little. ‘Do they need controlling?’
    Sally shrugged. ‘Depends who’s in ’em. This being what you might call a superior cinema, we don’t often get the roughs, but sometimes folk start complaining if they can’t get in when they want to, and then there’s trouble.
    â€˜Think I’ll be glad we have Fred, then.’
    â€˜Aye, it’s amazing how people will take notice of a man when they’ll just ignore a woman. Gets me, that does.’
    â€˜Men are stronger, that’s all.’
    â€˜Women should still have some authority. But we’d best get on, Jess. I’ll show you how to do the tickets first. Oops, here comes Mr Hawthorne – looks like he’s off somewhere.’
    The manager, wearing a dark suit that looked too heavy for the day, was carrying his hat and a briefcase and obviously feeling the heat as much as Sally.
    â€˜Morning, ladies,’ he said, puffing a little. ‘I’m just off to Glasgow – got a meeting with the owners. Thought I’d just wish you well, Jess. You’ll be in good hands with Sally here.’
    As Jess murmured her thanks, Sally said she’d be fine and walked with Mr Hawthorne to the entrance doors.
    â€˜Don’t you go running for your train,’ she told him. ‘There’ll be plenty of others, remember.’
    â€˜I guess you’ve been talking to my wife,’ he muttered, putting on his hat. ‘But in this business, you don’t keep the owners waiting. ‘Bye, then. I won’t be back till late.’
    â€˜The Princes will still be here.’
    â€˜Who are the owners?’ Jess asked, when the manager had hurried on his way and Sally had returned to the box office.
    â€˜A Glasgow firm – John Syme’s – owns half a dozen cinemas at least. But George needn’t worry about upsetting ’em. They know this one’s the best.’
    â€˜Never thought about cinemas having owners before,’ Jess said with interest.
    â€˜Thought they just “growed”?’ Sally smiled, dabbing again at her brow. ‘No, obviously, owners are very important people, but Syme’s will never let the Princes go under. It’s too grand for that.’
    With Sally a good teacher and Jess an apt pupil, the work of going through the box