I took an evening job at the Sports Centre, just a gopher on reception, I did not even rate a seat, if a visitor asked where the squash courts were, despite the big map behind us, I would be dispatched to show them. I hunted down missing kids and lost handbags, I helped out in the canteen, I was a crash dummy for the Judo and Karate instructors when they wanted to demonstrate something. And like all the girls I learned to dodge the Manager.
He insisted we call him "Colonel" and he looked the part with a white handlebar moustache, fierce eyes and a large bald patch.
Before anyone got a job, male or female, you had to try on the uniform first and parade for him. I was interviewed with another girl, Deborah, older than me. We were handed a little bundle each and directed to a changing room by the Colonel's secretary, a vague blonde whom rumour had it spent more time on the Colonel's desk than sitting at her own.
Deborah and I found we had the uniform of the place, short pleated blue skirt, white pumps and a white polo shirt with a logo at the left breast.
"I can't wear this!" Deborah protested, holding the skirt up to herself. "It is way too short!"
I said nothing, she must have seen the other staff the same as I, the men is tiny shorts and the women in these brief skirts, it was the uniform of the house and we wore them if we wanted to work there.
I changed and after some more complaint so did Deborah, she had a black bra on which showed as a shadow through the thin shirt, my own plain white was thankfully anonymous.
The secretary waited for us and we padded after her and were ushered into the Colonel's office. The door closed firmly behind us. I noted the office windows were shuttered with blinds, apart from a couple of metal filing cabinets the only furniture was a huge wooden desk, totally clear of clutter, a big leather chair on which the Colonel sat and a small trim chair on the visitor side of the desk. On the walls was an aerial view of the sports centre and some certificates.
The colonel glowered at us and then barked for us to turn around, we did so and put our backs to him, stayed that way long enough to glance at each other and fidget a bit. "Turn back," he snapped. We faced him. "Are you fit?" He demanded.
"I was netball captain at school," I replied.
"What position?"
"Field goal."
He grunted, it was hard to tell if he approved. "You?" He glared at Deborah. "What sport?"
"I swim," Deborah sounded defensive, nervous, I was surprised, the Colonel sounded fierce but he had not threatened us at all.
He made a growling sort of cough and then relaxed back in his chair, it tilted obligingly. "Show me, jump up on the desk."
We looked at each other again, each asking silently if we had heard right. "Jump!" He roared. I did, it was a stretch but I landed solidly, Deborah less so, she clutched at me as she teetered on the edge of thee desk and nearly dragged us both back off, but I got my arm around her and helped her steady.
The colonel was looking up at us, swaying the chair slightly from side to side, I tugged at my skirt, it would not go any lower. "Again, until I say to stop."
I landed lightly, knees bent, my skirt fluttering up as I flew, turning I jumped back on, more confident this time and landing with more grace, then down and up again until I began to pant and my face was flushed. Deborah was jumping up and down too, sometimes in sync, sometimes we passed in opposite directions. The Colonel stopped us when we were both up on the desk, breathing hard, shirts clinging. He got up and walked all the way around the desk, examining us minutely.
"You'll do," he said grudgingly. "see my secretary next door."
"The dirty old bastard!" Deborah exploded when we returned to the changing rooms, clutching a folder each with forms to fill and rules to read.
"What?" I asked, surprised.
"Him, that old sod, he... " Deborah paused, looking at me, then shook her head in wonder. "Never mind!"
The Colonel was a pincher. He demanded the staff jog everywhere and as any girl dodged past him he would strike and reach up your skirt and grab a fold of knicker and flesh and deliver an eye stinging pinch, then chortle as if it were some game we played and he was the winner.
We put up with it, there was not a lot of option, any attempt to introduce a union was ruthlessly dealt with. The Colonel was a quick to fire as he was to pinch and we knew he was right in his frequent lectures, there were plenty ready to take our place.
The money was not great, but as jobs went it was pretty neat.
Deborah and I had been working there for just over two weeks when while nursing coffee in the staff lounge Danny, one of the male coaches, told us there were ways to make extra on the side.
"Doing what?" Deborah challenged at once, suspiciously. Debora was studying music at college, she was saving to buy herself a flute, but it was slow work as she tended to spend most of her weekly wage on new clothes.
"Private coaching," Danny shrugged. "That sort of thing."
"Don't suppose there is a lot of call for netball coaching," I sighed, the lure of extra money wafting back away.
"We always need assistants to demonstrate," Danny said. I rubbed my arm, it was bruised from helping demonstrate back kicks.
"Well, it is up to you," Danny finished his coffee and grimaced, it was vile stuff spewed out from a battered old dispenser. "But if you are interested there is a private Badminton class tonight after we close, we can always use extra bodies."
"I have never played Badminton," I admitted.
"Just a bit," Deborah allowed.
"Does not matter if you are good or not, all that is required is enthusiasm, lots of it!" He winked.
"And what does it pay?" Deborah asked.
"Depends," Danny tossed the plastic cup into the bin. "It is a buyers market."
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Deborah demanded.
Danny placed a finger to his lips. "Ssh, look, stick around tonight and check it out, at the very least you will get a free game of Badminton, and you never know, you might like to earn some serious money." He left then, leaving Deborah frowning after him. I waited, we had quickly established she was the brains of our friendship, she was very world wise to my eyes. She was smaller than me, I was a gangly 5ft 7inches, still skinny and awkward, she was a petite 5ft 2 inches but perfectly formed with a classic hour glass figure, all soft curves and a pouty mouth and a frizz of curly light brown hair. I still wore mine long but kept it in a pony tail while at work.
"It stinks," she decided. "How can they use the centre after it is closed?" She worried at her lower lip with her fine little white teeth. She glanced at me. "But I suppose we could check it out, I am sick of using the rusty flutes the college supply."
And that was decided, I would never have dreamed of questioning wise Deborah.
In the event it all seemed above board. At closing time some of the staff left as usual but in the staff room Danny and one of the lifeguards -- Mark - stayed with Deborah and me and four other girls, I only knew two of them, Karen and Jennifer, both supervised the toddlers pool, Karen was a laughing, slightly plump woman in her late twenties, her dyed blond hair in a tidy bob. Jennifer a dreamy eyed willowy girl with a slight Asian cast and jet black hair cut short. The other two women were not in uniform and I guessed were part of the day staff, they were both leggy brunettes wearing short white tennis skirts, spotless trainers and plain white T shirts.
