When the Lights Come on Again Read Online Free PDF Page A

fellow Orangemen familiarly addressed as King Billy, got his own name in full. It was always William. There was a formality about him - a coldness - which prevented anyone from shortening it.
    Liz felt a fresh wave of despair sweep over her. Was there no way she could persuade him to let her do what she wanted? Maybe, if she was polite and obedient and kept her nose clean....
    Her father lifted his head at last, looked at her coolly and dashed that faint hope to smithereens.
    ‘You’ll reply to that letter as soon as you come home tonight, Elizabeth, telling the Infirmary you will not be attending for interview - that you no longer wish to be considered for a probationer’s position. Then you will give your reply to me and I shall post it.’
    The full bitterness of her disappointment threatened to engulf her completely. She did want to be considered for a probationer’s position. It was all she had ever wanted.
    ‘Do you hear me, Elizabeth?’
    She heard him all right. There was to be no shouting this morning, but the message was as clear as though it had been delivered by foghorn. She was to do as she was told. What he wanted her to do.
    ‘Do you hear me?’ he said again. ‘I’ll have no dumb insolence from you, miss, I’m warning you.’ He hadn’t raised his voice, but her mother jumped all the same. Only for her sake then, thought Liz, only for her sake. Her voice dull, her eyes downcast, she answered him. She had to force down the lump in her throat to get the words out ‘I hear you, Father,’ she said.

Three
    Rising to her feet after extracting a file from the bottom drawer of the filing cabinet, Liz kicked it deftly shut with her foot, turned - and let out a small shriek of alarm. Eric Mitchell, chief clerk of Murray Marine Agents, was standing right behind her.
    ‘Oh, Mr Mitchell, what a fright you gave me!’
    Eric Mitchell laughed. He didn’t, however, stand aside to let her past.
    ‘Excuse me, please,’ said Liz, looking pointedly over his shoulder towards her own small desk in the middle of the room the two of them shared with Miss Gilchrist, Mr Murray’s secretary. Realizing that they were practically nose to nose - Eric Mitchell wasn’t much taller than her - she also took a step backwards. At least, she tried to, but there wasn’t really anywhere to go.
    The solid green filing cabinets which ran nearly the entire length of the back wall of the office left only a narrow space in the corner formed by the other wall. Somehow Liz managed to sidle into the gap. Only after she’d done it did she realize what a mistake she’d made.
    Instead of moving away, he took a step towards her. He had her cornered - and they were alone in the sunny room. Her mouth dry, Liz had to moisten her lips before she could speak. The man standing far too close to her smiled when he saw the nervous gesture. The gleam in his pale eyes made her skin crawl.
    ‘Excuse me, please, Mr Mitchell,’ she said again. She hoped her voice wasn’t rising nervously. She had learned to be careful in the office, cautious about how and when she moved about the place, but she wasn’t thinking straight today.
    She’d been day-dreaming for weeks of how she was going to hand in her notice and leave Murray’s. She’d gone so far as to imagine herself telling Eric Mitchell exactly what she thought of him. Some hopes.
    ‘I have to get on with my work.’ She clutched the buff folder she’d taken from the filing cabinet closer to her chest. He smiled his creepy smile again and put a hand up on the wall beside Liz’s head.
    ‘Mr Mitchell? Haven’t I told you before to call me Eric?’ He glanced towards the door which separated their office from the boss’s room. ‘Not when Mr Murray or Miss Gilchrist are about, naturally. But when we’re on our own.’
    Her eyes followed his. The door into the inner office was half-glazed, but with frosted glass. In any case, they were standing at the wrong angle for anybody in the boss’s