53

Sydney
1939

Dixon placed her bunch of keys beside the copy of Middlemarch on her rosewood desk. Her office was behind Reception – through the glass panels she could keep her eye on activities in the foyer. Some guests were signing in, some leaving. She knew them all by name. Two more pairs of handmade shoes on account were being delivered to her. The head chef’s weekly projections were ready for her assessment. Five young girls were sitting outside her door waiting to be interviewed for the waitress vacancy.

She walked from her office to the reception desk to look over the register. Guests and staff passing greeted her with deference, and those to whom she spoke the extra word felt honoured by being singled out. Now that she was past her prime, respect acted as a satisfactory substitute for admiration. If her fiancé had lived, she would be a lady of the manor by now, the story went. Just look at the size of those diamonds. She’d stayed true to his memory all those years, you have to give her credit for that – heroic and romantic at the same time. Worked hard. A good listener, a keeper of secrets. A real battler, and you can’t give higher praise than that.

She was expecting a promotion she knew she deserved that would make her the first non-family female to become the manager of any hotel in NSW. As she completed one task after another she rehearsed the speech she would make after the promotion was announced.

There was a visitor for Dixon at Reception. It was a journalist from the Woman’s Monthly who wanted to write an article about her. About how she had transformed the Waratah from a basic watering hole into a comfortable hotel and become a legend herself in the meantime, rumoured to be about to make history. The dead aristocratic fiancé and the pieces of fine jewellery he had given her before he left for the front would add glamour and pathos to the story.

Dixon agreed to give an interview and be photographed provided they didn’t mention the promotion as it hadn’t been made official yet.

If only the Matron from the orphanage and Manus, Miss East and Teresa Kelly could see me now, she thought as she posed, making sure her best features were facing the camera.