It was a very exclusive, very opulent, very intimidating block of flats. The bus deposited her about five minutes' walk from Onslow Mansions, and at seven minutes to ten precisely she was outside her destination. She could not afford the fare, but she could still less afford to lose a possible situation by being late. Miss Pettigrew went to the bus-stop to await a bus. But there was no personal friend or relation in the whole world who knew or cared whether Miss Pettigrew was alive or dead. Miss Pettigrew joined the throng, a middle-aged, rather angular lady, of medium height, thin through lack of good food, with a timid, defeated expression and terror quite discernible in her eyes, if any one cared to look. Pedestrians hastened to reach their destinations and get out of the depressing atmosphere as quickly as possible. Her coat, of a nondescript, ugly brown, was not very thick It was five years old London traffic roared about her. It was a cold, grey, foggy November day with a drizzle of rain in the air. Outside on the pavement Miss Pettigrew shivered slightly. 'Not many,' agreed Miss Holt, and, as the door closed behind Miss Pettigrew, 'I hope that's the last I see of her,' thought Miss Holt.
She clutched the card of particulars firmly in her hand. 'Oh thank you,' Miss Pettigrew said weakly, nearly fainting with relief. The appointment is for ten sharp this morning.
But there! I expect she's an aunt with an adopted orphan niece, or something.' Hmn! You'd have thought it was the other way round. I think we have something for you to-day. She had, as usual, very little hope, but to-day the Principal greeted her with a more cheerful smile. MISS PETTIGREW pushed open the door of the employment agency and went in as the clock struck a quarter past nine. has provided the first few pages of the novel to see why no one could put Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day down. The current publisher Persephone Books Ltd. Popular when it came out and then again some sixty years later, the novel had become a timeless comic fable. Only after much wrangling and compromises did Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day see the light of a book store window. But when she brought her publishers her third novel, about a governess and wild-living singer/socialite, they were taken aback and refused to publish it.
Her two previous works - Fell Top and Old Shoes - were greeted with some critical and commercial success. Winifred Watson was 29 when she finished her third novel, Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day.
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