I hear nothing from Fitzrovia for a couple of days so go to the newsagent to buy a copy of “The Times Educational Supplement” to scour the “Teacher Vacancies” section. ‘There’s nothing. I’ll have to wait till next year now.’
‘Why don’t you try ICI?’ asks mum. ‘There’s bound to be something there. Clerical work for instance?’
Glumly I throw the paper down. ‘I suppose.’
‘You never know,’ mum continues. ‘You might hear from them yet.’
Ha! No. Bugger them. I don’t want the job anyway. Do I? Stuck up bastards.
And then there’s a letter.