SHORT STORIESQWERTYUIOPVivien AlcockJobs don't grow on trees, the principal of the BelmontSecretarial College was fond of saying."Be positive," Mrs Price told her departing students,as she shook them by the hand in turn. "Go out intothe world andwinl I have every confidence in you.

"When she came to the last student, however, herconfidence suddenly evaporated. She looked at LucyBeck, and sighed."Good luck, my dear," she said kindly, but rather inthe tone of voice of someone wishing a snowman ahappy summer.Lucy Beck was young and small and mousecoloured,easily overlooked. She had a lonely 'O' level and atyping speed that would make a tortoise laugh.

"Whoever will want to employ me?" she had askedMrs Price once, and Mrs Price had been at a loss toanswer.Lucy wanted a job. More than anyone, more thananything, she wanted a job. She was tired of beingpoor. She was fed up with macaroni cheese andbaked beans. She was sick of second-hand clothes."We are jumble sailors on the rough sea of life," hermother would say.

Lucy loved her mother, but could not help wishingshe would sometimes lose her temper. Shout.Scream. Throw saucepans at the spinning, grinninghead of Uncle BertSHORT STORIESQWERTYUIOPVivien AlcockJobs don't grow on trees, the principal of the BelmontSecretarial College was fond of saying."Be positive," Mrs Price told her departing students,as she shook.