The Buffer Girls

Home > Other > The Buffer Girls > Page 8
The Buffer Girls Page 8

by Margaret Dickinson


  ‘What did you do there? Work, I mean?’

  ‘I had my own little business – well, I took it over from Dad when he . . . when he . . .’ Lizzie squeezed his arm comfortingly and Josh took a steadying breath and went on, ‘I was the village candle maker.’

  There was no mistaking the wistful note in his tone and Lizzie wondered if it was longing for his old way of life or the girl he’d left behind. Perhaps both.

  ‘It sounds nice,’ she said carefully, ‘but I think your mother’s right, you know. There are far more opportunities in the city for a clever young man like you.’

  Josh chuckled and glanced down at her. She really was a very pretty girl but not, he thought loyally, half as pretty as his Amy. ‘How do you know if I’m clever or not? You don’t know me.’

  ‘Ah, but I will,’ Lizzie said and there was no mistaking the determination in her voice. ‘And besides, Emily says you are.’ Mentally, Lizzie crossed her fingers at the little white lie. ‘Did she think you should come here?’

  Josh shook his head.

  ‘Not even to be nearer Trip – is that his name?’

  Josh was quiet for a moment, mulling over what Lizzie was suggesting, then he said firmly, ‘No, she didn’t think we should move. She was worried for our dad. And she was right. He’s been worse since we got here. He’s spending more time than ever in bed.’

  They had been walking for some time when Lizzie stopped and said, ‘This is our Town Hall. Isn’t it a lovely building?’

  ‘Indeed it is,’ Josh said, gazing up at the huge building and at the ornate clock tower.

  ‘They say it’s made of Derbyshire stone and it was opened by Queen Victoria about twenty-four years ago. My dad was there that day. He remembered seeing her sitting in her carriage dressed in black. She never got out, he said, but somehow a signal was sent and three men opened the doors, just as if she’d actually done it herself.’

  Josh glanced down at her as he asked gently, ‘What happened to your dad?’

  For a moment, Lizzie’s face was bleak. ‘He died when I was ten. Consumption, they said, so you see, that’s why me mam and me can sympathize with you. He was so ill and he had to go into Winter Street. It’s a hospital for infectious diseases and – and tuberculosis.’

  Josh squeezed her arm against him. ‘I’m sorry I asked, Lizzie.’

  ‘Oh, don’t be. I’m quite glad to talk about him. I never like to speak about him to Mam, and as for our Mick, well, I daren’t mention his name in front of him.’

  ‘He took his death badly, did he?’

  To Josh’s surprise, Lizzie shook her head. ‘No, he didn’t. They didn’t get on, you see. Mick’s four years older than me and he was wild as a youngster. Me dad used to leather him summat rotten.’ She paused and then asked, ‘Your dad ever whip you?’

  Josh wrinkled his forehead. ‘Not that I can remember. He was a gentle soul, poor devil.’ Then he laughed wryly. ‘It was me mam who used to chase me with the copper stick. And Em – I reckon she got it more often than I did.’

  They walked on in silence for a few moments, until Lizzie said more cheerfully, ‘Come on, let’s go and look at the parish church. It’s even more magnificent than the Town Hall. We’re very proud of it and actually it’s a cathedral now.’

  ‘Right you are, lead on and keep your eye out for Emily and Trip. She was meeting him outside the Town Hall. Maybe we’ll see them.’

  ‘I hope so. I’d like to meet this Trip.’

  Eleven

  When she saw Trip coming towards her, Emily felt a fluttering of excitement. Coal-black hair and a smile so wide and expansive that his eyes almost seemed to close.

  ‘Hey,’ he greeted her and, taking her shoulders in his hands, he kissed her forehead. ‘You look very smart. A real “townie” already.’

  Emily pulled a face. ‘I’d sooner be back in Ashford, racing you up to Monsal Head – and beating you.’

  Trip threw back his head and laughed aloud. Dressed in his Sunday best too, he didn’t look so weary as he had done on the night they’d met him outside his father’s works. He was every inch the handsome young man she remembered; the image of him she carried in her mind’s eye – and in her heart. He took her hand and put it through his arm. ‘Come,’ he said, ‘I want to show you Weston Park. It’ll remind you of the countryside back home and it’s not too far from where you’re living. I thought it would be easier for us to meet there.’

  Emily was heartened to hear him referring to Ashford as ‘home’. But then she realized that, as his parents still lived there, Trip no doubt still considered it to be home. They began to walk back the way Emily had come. ‘What about you? I don’t even know where you’re living.’

  ‘I’ve got lodgings in Carr Road, just round the corner from the factory, but I’ve got my bicycle, so it doesn’t matter to me where we meet. I was thinking of you having to walk.’

  Emily’s heart felt as if it had turned over. So, not only was he being most considerate to her, but he was also implying that they would be meeting frequently.

  Trip pointed out places of interest as they headed towards the park, then suddenly he said, ‘Oh look, over there. There’s Josh.’

  Emily followed the line of Trip’s pointing finger and saw her brother and, to her dismay, Lizzie with her arm possessively through Josh’s.

  ‘Who’s that with him?’ Trip asked, squinting against the autumn sunlight. ‘It’s not Amy, is it?’

  ‘No, it isn’t,’ Emily said, flatly. ‘It’s the girl who lives next door to us in the court. Lizzie Dugdale.’

  ‘Oh.’ For a moment, Trip looked uncertain. ‘But I thought . . . I mean, he and Amy – aren’t they . . . ?’

  ‘Yes, they are. They’re engaged and they wanted to get married next spring, but Mam had other ideas.’

  ‘Ah, yes.’ Trip sighed and added with a note of bitterness, ‘I understand, if anyone does. I know all about parental control.’

  ‘Come on, we’ll have to go across, I suppose. Josh has seen us.’

  As the two couples headed towards each other, Emily asked softly, ‘Didn’t you want to come to the city either?’

  Trip wrinkled his forehead. ‘It’s difficult. If I’m to take over my father’s business one day – and there’s no one else to do it – I realize I have to learn it from the bottom up. He’s right about that, I know, but . . .’

  ‘But what?’ Emily prompted gently.

  He sighed. ‘I get a lot of stick from the other men because I’m the boss’s son. They’re either jealous and make snide remarks about why I’m working where I am, or they take advantage and give me all the worst jobs they can find for me to do.’

  ‘That sounds a bit stupid of them. Don’t they realize that one day you will be in charge and you could so easily take revenge on them?’

  ‘I could, but they probably know I wouldn’t.’ He grinned. ‘I’m far too soft, Emily, and I’m pretty sure they all think I’m weak-willed because I didn’t stand up to my father.’

  ‘About starting at the bottom? Why would you – stand up to him, I mean – when you agree with him?’

  ‘No – no, it wasn’t about that. It – it was something else. Nothing to do with work or the business.’

  Emily was about to ask what that was, but now Josh and Lizzie were within earshot and as the distance between them closed, Emily could see the self-satisfied expression on Lizzie’s face. She looked just like the proverbial cat that had got the cream!

  After introductions had been made, Lizzie said, ‘Where are you two off to?’

  ‘Weston Park,’ Trip said. ‘Want to come?’

  Emily’s heart sank. Not only did she want to spend the afternoon with Trip on their own, but she also didn’t want to encourage Lizzie to be with Josh. The girl didn’t need any more encouragement! But Emily was forced to admit that it was a merry foursome who arrived at the park. The only trouble for Emily was that it was Lizzie with them and not Amy.

  They entered through the
ornate wrought-iron gates and sauntered along the pathways, crossing the wooden bridge over the duck pond.

  ‘The grounds are lovely. It’s vibrant with colour in spring and summer when all the flowers are out, although the autumn golds and browns are lovely too,’ Trip told them.

  ‘What’s that?’ Josh pointed to a hexagonal-shaped structure with an almost pagoda type roof.

  ‘It’s the bandstand. They’re not here today, but in summer there’s often a band playing. People bring picnics and sit on the grass to listen.’

  ‘Maybe we could do that,’ Lizzie murmured. ‘The four of us.’

  Emily sighed inwardly. It sounded as if Lizzie had long-term plans for her friendship with Josh if she was already talking about outings next summer!

  Although the last thing she wanted to do was to leave Trip, Emily said, ‘Josh, it’s time we were getting back home. I’m sorry, Trip.’

  Wordlessly, but understanding completely, Trip squeezed her hand. ‘Same time next week,’ he whispered. ‘Only next time, we’ll meet here – near the bandstand. All right?’

  Her heart thudded, ‘Oh yes, Trip. That’d be lovely.’

  He leaned a little closer. ‘And we’ll try and drop the other two, eh?’

  Emily’s expression was grim. ‘If I have my way, there’ll be no “other two” next week. I’ll be having words with Josh.’

  ‘Oh dear.’ Trip grinned. ‘Poor Josh.’

  At times, Emily could be almost as formidable as her mother, Martha. ‘“Poor Josh” nothing. He’s got a lovely girl back home.’

  Trip sighed. ‘I see you still refer to Ashford as “back home”, just like I do.’

  ‘Well, it is, isn’t it? None of us – except Mam – wanted to come here, though I must admit,’ she added, smiling up at him, ‘it has its compensations.’

  The three of them – Emily, Josh and Lizzie – walked home whilst Trip mounted his bicycle and set off in the opposite direction. Emily was determined to give the other two no more time alone together. As they paused briefly in the yard outside their homes, Emily said briskly, ‘Come on, Josh, Mam will be needing our help.’

  And indeed she was, for the moment Emily opened the door, Martha launched a tirade of reproach at her for having gone out at all.

  ‘I know you have to work in the week, but I could do with a bit of help on a Sunday. Where’ve you been until this time?’ On and on her grumbling went, almost until they went upstairs to bed. But not a word of rebuke, Emily noticed bitterly, was aimed at Josh.

  When they’d retired to the attic room they were obliged to share, Emily tackled her brother about Lizzie. A curtain had been tacked to the ceiling down the centre of the room affording each of them a little privacy, but before Josh could disappear into his half of the bedroom, Emily grasped his arm and said bluntly, ‘You know she’s after you, don’t you? Please, Josh, don’t let her get her claws into you. Think of Amy.’

  Josh turned to face her solemnly. ‘I think of Amy all the time and, yes, I do realize what Lizzie is up to, but I won’t let it go too far, I promise.’

  ‘But don’t lead her on. That’s not fair either. I’ve told her you’ve got a girl back in Ashford, but I think she needs to hear it from you.’

  ‘I don’t want to upset her, though. She’s been helpful to us – finding you a job, for one thing. And so’s her mam. We don’t want to make enemies of them. Mrs Dugdale is on hand if Mam needs help when we’re not here.’

  Emily sighed. ‘I know and I agree with you. We’ve got to be careful, but it would be good if you could somehow just let Lizzie know – tactfully – that there’s going to be no romance between you.’

  ‘I’ll try,’ was all Josh could promise her.

  As she’d been instructed, Emily arrived at work the following morning at half past seven, before all the other girls, who were due to start at eight. She mixed new sand and oil and shared it out with a shovelful to each buffer’s place on the bench – or side, as she learned the girls called it. Then she lit the stove, got the kettle boiling and set out the mugs for their first tea break of their day and then swept up the workshop. She glanced round, wondering if she’d forgotten anything. She wanted to make a good impression on the missus. She hoped Mrs Nicholson would let her train as a buffer girl very soon.

  When the girls arrived, she counted only six. ‘Where are the others?’ she asked Lizzie.

  ‘Taking a “Saint Monday”.’

  ‘Whatever’s that?’

  ‘It’s an old tradition that most of the firms turn a blind eye to. Some of the girls and a lot of the men don’t come in on a Monday and end up in the nearest pub as soon as it opens, playing cards or just drinking and chatting. You’d think it was another Saturday night.’

  ‘But what about their work – their pay?’

  ‘Oh, they make it up. They’ll work like billy-o the rest of the week.’

  Emily glanced round at the other girls, who’d arrived for work. ‘But not all of you take Mondays off, eh?’

  ‘We’re paid on the amount we do, so, some of us can’t afford to miss a whole day’s work. Besides, we now get Saturday afternoon off and all day Sunday, so who needs another day? Unless, of course,’ Lizzie added archly, ‘you’ve got a beau to meet.’

  Emily laughed. ‘I shouldn’t think Trip’d be allowed Mondays off. Even if he is the boss’s son, he’s still being treated like an apprentice.’

  ‘And where did you two get to yesterday, might I ask?’ Nell Geddis, the ringleader of the buffer girls’ Sunday afternoon window-shopping expeditions stood, hands on her hips, facing Lizzie and Emily. She’d taken off the better clothes she’d arrived in, put on an old dress under her buff-brat, and wrapped herself in brown paper. She’d fastened the short sleeves up to prevent them catching in the machinery, tied on a head rag and wound the neck rag round her throat. ‘I thought you were coming around town with us.’

  ‘Ah well, we had better things to do,’ Lizzie smirked.

  ‘Really? Thanks for that,’ Nell said sarcastically and then added, as if curiosity had got the better of her, ‘Do tell.’

  ‘We went walking in Weston Park with a couple of handsome young men.’

  So much for Lizzie being able to keep secrets, Emily thought wryly.

  Nell’s eyes widened and then she grinned. ‘In that case, you’re both forgiven, but we want to hear all about it, don’t we, girls?’

  There was a chorus of agreement as the girls hurried to dress themselves in their aprons and newspaper and brown-paper clothing.

  ‘When we have a tea-break, I promise,’ Lizzie said as the missus came in, her sharp glance raking the room to make sure everyone was ready for work.

  ‘You’d better get cracking, Emily. Be sure you’ve dished out enough sand for each of us,’ Lizzie reminded her, and Emily felt a stab of guilt at the fact that she felt obliged to warn her brother against this friendly and helpful girl. But there was no denying, she thought in her own defence, that Lizzie Dugdale was a veritable siren when it came to men. And the trouble was, Emily was forced to admit, Josh was a softie when it came to a pretty girl with provocative eyes. She’d just have to make sure that he kept his mind firmly fixed on Amy back home.

  Twelve

  ‘Thomas Trippet!’ Nell exclaimed, thrilled and shocked in equal measure. ‘You mean Emily actually knows Thomas Trippet?’

  ‘I most certainly do,’ Lizzie said, triumphant to have a juicy piece of gossip that was holding all her workmates enthralled. But now they turned with one accord towards Emily.

  ‘How do you know him?’

  ‘How long have you known him?’

  ‘Are you courting?’

  ‘Oh, you lucky thing. He’s so handsome!’

  The questions came thick and fast.

  ‘We’ve been friends since childhood. We live – lived – in the same village.’

  ‘But you’ve found him again – here in the city. How romantic. Are you seeing him next Sunday?’

  ‘I
– I hope so.’ Emily’s tone was unsure; not because of Trip, but because of her mother.

  ‘Well, if you don’t meet him, I certainly will.’ Nell grinned. She waved her hand towards the other girls. ‘You lot can go window shopping on your own.’

  They all laughed, Nell along with them. With their blackened faces and rough clothes, they all knew they had little chance of ensnaring the son of a factory owner. And yet, when they dressed up on a Sunday, they were as smart and pretty as any other city lass out for a bit of fun. Nell had a strong face that on a woman would be called handsome rather than beautiful, but, nevertheless, she was a striking-looking girl with auburn hair and green eyes. She was tall and carried herself well, but her trim figure, which she was not ashamed to parade on a Sunday afternoon, was always hidden by the buffer girls’ ‘uniform’ whilst at work and her glorious hair was tucked firmly beneath the head rag. But she was also a kindly, honest girl – if at times a little blunt – and now she touched Emily’s arm. ‘Don’t worry, luv, I’m not out to steal your boyfriend.’

  ‘You’d have a job, our Nell,’ Ida shouted as she made her way back to her machine after their break. ‘You’re a good-looking lass, Nell, but you’re not a patch on her with her blond hair and blue eyes.’

  Emily blushed and tried to protest but all the girls laughed and, good-naturedly, Nell laughed the loudest of them all.

  As they all returned to their machines, Nell prodded Lizzie. ‘And you, miss. We’ll hear all about your beau at dinner time.’

  Oh dear, Emily thought, they’re going to encourage Lizzie to make a play for Josh. As if the girl needed any prodding.

  Later, as they sat eating, Lizzie said, ‘He’s Emily’s brother, Josh. He’s ever so nice.’

  ‘Is he handsome?’

  ‘Of course,’ Lizzie said indignantly. ‘Would I look at any feller who wasn’t?’

  Laughter rippled amongst them.

  I ought to say something here and now, Emily told herself sharply, but somehow she couldn’t force the words from her lips. A vision of her poor father floated before her eyes; her family needed the help of their neighbours and if she, Emily, were to antagonize Lizzie, not only would Martha no longer have Mrs Dugdale’s support but, also, Lizzie was quite capable of turning all the other buffer girls against her. Emily’s life would be made intolerable both at home and at work and she might even be sacked, since the missus also lived in their court. She couldn’t let that happen; her family needed her weekly wage.

 

‹ Prev