Maisie Reed had just reached her eighteenth birthday. She wanted to be different from the other girls. Most of the girls she knew from the college she had attended wanted the sedate life of becoming shorthand typists. Admittedly Maisie had done the course and had been the top girl in the class having achieved an incredible speed of 110 words a minute and her shorthand had been marked up as excellent example of how one could be proficient if one applied certain techniques. In typing if one used one to four letter words, one would be capable in attaining the impossible. Her wily ways proved she was destined for the better things that life could offer.
Maisie had applied for a position with the Government, it was a position that highly trained men usually only applied. It was unheard of for females to even think about. Danger and excitement was Maisie’s by words.
There was a panel of seven persons and Maisie noted that two women were amongst their number. A daunting and intimidating atmosphere was their ploy in making all candidates feel that they should have applied for a more sedate occupation. Not so Maisie. She wore a black and grey suit, a grey skirt with slightly darker contrasting lines down to the hem and a matching jacket with the same dark lines, but they were stitched round the edges, worn over a grey blouse with a small black bow at the neck. Her stockings were slightly tinged grey with black patterns and her shoes were discreetly black and grey. She had out dressed all of them and her air of authority and confidence was of a person who knew what she wanted in life and was clearly evident.
It was the first time that the panel of seven were exposed to intimidation – the men were fingering their ties, making sure the knots were secure round their necks and the women were exploring their stockings which was difficult as the desk top was in the way. There were a few coughs and restlessness as everyone reseated themselves. The middle man rose and shook hands with Maisie and welcomed her. Maisie assumed he was the leader of the gang of seven and her mind wandered and thought about the film she had seen once many years ago and wondered if they were going to be the magnificent seven to thwart her progress.
There was not the slightest possible chance that the seven could unhinge Maisie Reed from her aim in life. She sailed through the interview. It didn’t matter what kind of question they fired at her, she knew the answer and without hesitation. She was on top of the world.
The panel asked Maisie to step out of the room while they discussed her application and her statements which were noted word for word by one of the ladies present on the panel. She was ushered from the room by someone who had appeared at the door behind her as if by magic and she was asked to follow. Maisie nodded to the panel and she couldn’t help but notice the startled looks on their faces.
She entered another room that had been comfortably furnished. Tea, biscuits and small cup cakes with icing on top had been placed on the small table in front of her. The man who had brought the tray was silent, it was if his tongue had been cut out as Maisie posed a question. He looked at her rather strangely and left the room.
Maisie thought ‘Foreigners, they were everywhere!’ but why would they employ foreigners in the British Government, perhaps it was something to do with the equal opportunities they had introduced to the people of this country and were applying it to set a good example.
Maisie knew she had passed the examining panel and she would be a bona fide spy. All the excitement and danger would be hers. The special training she would receive on top of all the knowledge she had gleaned from her studies at college were at her fingertips. She looked attentively at her nails and promised herself she wouldn’t keep biting them. A spy with jagged fingernails will not be good if she had to press a trigger on a gun that they would give her. She didn’t want her copybook blotted with ‘This agent bites her nails.’
It seemed ages and she had finished the tea, ate all the biscuits and cakes and surprisingly fell asleep.
* * *
Maisie was being shaken awake by a woman. ‘Come on sweetie, get those sleepy eyes of yours to open.’ Maisie sat bolt upright, she was in bed and wondered how she had got there.
‘Oh bloody hell, it was all a dream!’
‘Don’t swear darling, it doesn’t become you. Remember you have a very important interview to go to this morning. I’ve ironed out all the creases from the suit you bought from the Oxfam shop. The blouse has an extra hole in it at the back. Looked like a cigarette burn so I cut it out. As long as you don’t take the jacket off you’ll be okay. I thought about using your dad’s black bow tie to put under the neck collar of the blouse, but I thought it looked a bit ostentatious.’
‘It will have to do, thank you mum.’
‘I’m not sure about the pop socks you brought, they don’t go high enough and won’t be covered by the skirt which is rather short in length. I have an old pair of pre-war stockings that have never been used. They are thick grey and should match your skirt and jacket. No-one will notice. I have managed to get all the scuff marks from your shoes and one thing more my darling girl. Don’t bite your nails – shorthand typists don’t bite their nails.’
