Harry was a lucky boy. Six weeks he had been in this job — his first job. Times generally were hard and it was difficult for school-leavers to find employment, but on an impulse he had walked through the gates of the factory yard and straight up to a prefabricated cabin that served as an office. Inside was a dusty smelling foyer a few feet square. The decor was fly-specked off-yellow. To his right a narrow window ledge sported a rusty washer and two screws, while to his left was a battered door and a frosted glass window bearing a faded notice fastened on with crackling sticky tape and announcing ‘Enquiries’.
Harry knocked on the window. The noise of typing emanating from behind the door continued unchecked, so he knocked again, louder. The typing stopped, a chair scuffed back and a blurr
