Imogen by Jilly Cooper Read Free Book Online

your job.’
    ‘Can’t say I know any,’ muttered Gloria, whisking up in yellow shorts and a tight chocolate brown sweater and dumping a pile of books on the trolley. ‘The old bag’s on the warpath this morning,’ she whispered to Imogen. ‘No one can do a thing right. Old Cornelius should have been back from his holiday, but he sent her a cable saying: “Stranded in Gib.” I expect he’s fallen for one of the monkeys. Did you get a letter?’
    Imogen shook her head.
    ‘That’s a shame,’ said Gloria, with all the enthusiasm of the secretly relieved. ‘Don’t fret, all men are lousy letter writers. I went to a terrific party on Saturday night. Tony Lightband was there; he really fancies you. He wants me to fix up a foursome.’
    ‘That’s nice,’ said Imogen, failing to sound enthusiastic. Tony Lightband was five foot three, wore spectacles thick as the bottom of beer bottles, and was inflated with his own importance.
    ‘Clough’s back from his hols, looks lovely and brown,’ said Gloria.
    ‘Will you girls stop gossiping?’ snapped Miss Nugent, bustling out of the inside office. ‘And turn off the lights, Imogen, or Mr Brighouse will be over in a flash complaining about his rates.’
    The day got progressively worse. Imogen didn’t seem to be able to do a thing right. Even the sky began to cloud over.
    It was early afternoon. Imogen was on the request desk, answering queries, finding books for people. Miss Nugent had also given her the least favourite task in the library of chasing up unreturned books.
    ‘Lady Jacintha’s had the new Dick Francis six weeks,’ she said, handing Imogen the list, ‘and Brigadier Simmonds has still got the Slim biography, and you must get on to Mrs Heseltine at once. She’s got twelve books out, including The Wombles in Danger and Andy Pandy . I want the whole lot dealt with today. Tick them off as you telephone.’
    ‘Yes, Miss Nugent,’ said Imogen listlessly.
    Miss Nugent relented a little. The last thing she wanted was to bully Imogen into giving in her notice.
    ‘I only keep on at you because I think you’re worth taking trouble with,’ she said, offering Imogen a Polo. ‘There’s no point bothering with Gloria. She’ll just go off and get married. But you’ve got the makings of a good librarian. Have you thought any more about taking the library diploma? You’ll miss it this year if you don’t sign on soon. It’s always a good idea to have a training if you can’t bank on finding a hubby.’
    Imogen knew Miss Nugent meant it kindly, but it only made her feel more depressed.
    ‘How’s it going?’ said Gloria half an hour later.
    ‘Awful,’ said Imogen. ‘Brigadier Simmonds would like to court-martial me; Mrs Heseltine keeps pretending to be the Spanish au pair and not understanding, and Lady Jacintha’s butler obviously has no intention of passing on the message.’
    ‘Nugent always gives you the lousy jobs. Look, why don’t we go to the pictures tomorrow night?’
    This was a great concession, Imogen realised. Gloria didn’t believe in wasting evenings on girlfriends.
    ‘I can’t. I’ve got to go to my first aid class,’ she said gloomily.
    ‘Don’t say Nugent’s pressganged you into that.’
    Imogen nodded. ‘We’re doing the kiss of life tomorrow. I do hope Mr Blount doesn’t use me as the model. Finish me off altogether.’
    ‘I say,’ said Gloria, lowering her voice, ‘Judy Brighouse’s just been in and taken out Understanding Cystitis . She only came back from her honeymoon last night. Bet they’ve been at it all the time. Oo, look, he’s back.’
    A good-looking man in a green velvet jacket came through the swing doors and up to the desk. ‘I think I left Richard Strauss behind,’ he said.
    ‘You did,’ said Gloria, giving him the book and the benefit of one of her hot stripping glances, which sent him crashing back against the doors, nearly falling over the fire bucket on the way.
    ‘It says pull, not push,’