So Julie started applying
for jobs. Hundreds of them. But each time employers
asked for a reference from her old school, they wrote
to her with the same reply, "Don't call us, we'll
call you." Goodness knows why. Perhaps the school
gave her a bad reference?
Now Julie had an older
step - brother called Fred. She hated him. A not too
successful small time gangster, he called himself Guido,
assuming a very un-convincing Italian accent. "It
make-a-dem-a think I am-a di Mafioso." He had been
offering her a life of luxury, funded by crime - or
failing that at least a dodgy job reference. After two
years and two hundred job applications, Julie had finally
decided to break her moral principles and take the dodgy
So she ended up as a
bus conductress, having given the London Omnibus Company
a reference more glowing than the Osmonds' teeth.
But it all went wrong
as early as her first day, when she decided to buy a
newspaper without telling the driver first. She jumped
off the platform of the Routemaster bus and ran into
the newsagent next to the stop. "Daily Gossip,
"Thirty pence please
"I've just started
my first job. Look at my uniform! I bet you can't guess
what it is," boasted Julie.
perhaps," replied the assistant with as much interest
as a eunuch divulging the happenings of the latest orgy.
"Don't be silly,"
replied Julie. "I work on the buses. Look, there's
my bus outside."
Turning to look at the
stop outside, Julie saw there was indeed no bus. She
ran out to the street just in time to see her bus, and
her first job, disappearing into the distance.
Several more jobs came
and went the same way. The longest she lasted anywhere
was three weeks, at the bakery. Until the bakery went
the same way as the school chemistry lab!
By now the glowing job
recommendations were looking decidedly suspect, as Julie's
reputation began to precede her. Her cover was almost
as transparent as one of Fred's bargain bikinis after
So it was in absolute
desperation that Julie eventually asked Fred for a job,
knowing that the only rackets he ran were strictly illegal.
"What sort of job
are you after," he asked, dropping his fake accent
whilst talking to his stepsister. He believed in saving
the pretence for intimidating his protection racket
"One which is legal.
And I definitely won't become one of your call girls!"