Jack considered going across to talk to Gerda, but he knew that the women were hot allowed to talk while on duty, other than to take orders and he did not want to get Gerda, or himself, into trouble.

Jack looked around at the four rows of faces; however, there was no one who he was particularly friendly with.   Gerda, old Rossi, and Jack had been what Gerda called the “Three mouseketeers of the old timers, up until Rossi’s recent retirement.

As far as Jack could see, there was not even a vacant seat that he could move to.   “A full house,” as old Rossi would have said.   So, after listening to Gladys and Frank for a few moments longer, Jack walked across to the soft drink vending machine, at the front of the canteen, near the counter.

Jack stood near the machine for a few moments, pretending to be making a selection.   After three different people had nudged him aside so that they could make their selections, Jack gave up the pretence and returned to his seat beside Frank.

Jack wished that he could return to his lathe.   They were only supposed to have fifteen minutes for morning tea, however, it sometimes seemed more like fifteen hours to Jack.

“Of course we tell him to keep his chin up and all the other clichés,” said Frank, stirring the sugar around the bottom of his empty cup with a plastic spoon; “but it’s getting harder all the time.   You feel as though you’re lying to the boy if you tell him something is bound to turn up sooner or later, because maybe it won’t.   Maybe he’ll never find a job.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” agreed Gladys.   “There’re virtually no jobs to even go out after these days.”

“None at all,” said Frank.   “Only the usual run of bar courses and typing courses disguised as jobs, and, of course, the usual run of door-to-door jobs.”

Gladys snorted her contempt, and then said, “He’d be much better off on the dole, looking round for real work, than wasting his time going door-to-door.”

“What’s the matter?” demanded Jack, having listened to as much as he could stand.   “Is the boy afraid of some fresh air?” Gladys and Frank looked shocked at Jack’s interruption, they exchanged glances, and then Frank said, “It’s not that.   It’s just that there’s no future in the door-to-door racket.”