Essay About Lucy Beck And Mrs Price

Short Stories
Short Stories
SHORT STORIES
QWERTYUIOP
Vivien Alcock
Jobs dont grow on trees, the principal of the Belmont
Secretarial College was fond of saying.
“Be positive,” Mrs Price told her departing students,
as she shook them by the hand in turn. “Go out into
the world andwinl I have every confidence in you.”
When she came to the last student, however, her
confidence suddenly evaporated. She looked at Lucy
Beck, and sighed.
“Good luck, my dear,” she said kindly, but rather in
the tone of voice of someone wishing a snowman a
happy summer.
Lucy Beck was young and small and mousecoloured,
easily overlooked. She had a lonely O level and a
typing speed that would make a tortoise laugh.
“Whoever will want to employ me?” she had asked
Mrs Price once, and Mrs Price had been at a loss to
answer.
Lucy wanted a job. More than anyone, more than
anything, she wanted a job. She was tired of being
poor. She was fed up with macaroni cheese and
baked beans. She was sick of second-hand clothes.
“We are jumble sailors on the rough sea of life,” her
mother would say.
Lucy loved her mother, but could not help wishing
she would sometimes lose her temper. Shout.
Scream. Throw saucepans at the spinning, grinning
head of Uncle Bert
SHORT STORIES
QWERTYUIOP
Vivien Alcock
Jobs dont grow on trees, the principal of the Belmont
Secretarial College was fond of saying.
“Be positive,” Mrs Price told her departing students,
as she shook