The Buffer Girls

by Margaret Dickinson

  ‘And I would have liked to have had brothers and sisters. Still,’ he added, smiling, ‘I have you and Josh and – and Emily, if – if . . .’

  ‘Oh there’s no “if” about it. You wait and see, once Josh has told Emily he’s found you and all about what happened, she’ll be on this doorstep within hours. You mark my words.’

  Thirty-Five

  During the afternoon, there was a knock at the Clarks’ back door. Amy opened it to find Constance Trippet standing there.

  ‘I hope this is not an intrusion, but I would like to see Thomas.’ She smiled apologetically. ‘I couldn’t keep away.’

  ‘Of course, Mrs Trippet, please come in. He’s in the parlour.’ As she closed the door and led her visitor through to the best room, Amy said, ‘He had quite a good breakfast and he’s eaten a little dinner. His colour’s better, but he’s still very tired. Here we are.’ She opened the door quietly and tiptoed in. Trip was lying on the sofa, his head on two cushions. He was sound asleep.

  ‘Don’t wake him, Amy. I’ll just sit here with him, if you don’t mind.’

  ‘Of course. I’ll bring you some tea.’

  ‘Oh, I wouldn’t want to trouble you. You must be busy. And your little boy . . .’

  ‘Harry’s fine. He’s in his playpen in the kitchen. So no, it’s no trouble. I could do with a cuppa myself.’

  ‘Then, if you’re sure, a cup of tea would be most welcome.’

  They had been talking in whispers, but Trip stirred and, as Amy left the room, he rubbed his eyes and sat up.

  ‘Mother! Whatever are you doing here?’

  ‘I’ve come to see you, my dear, and to take you home.’

  ‘I . . . can’t go home. He—’

  ‘I know all about what’s happened and you’re coming home with me. I will deal with your father.’ There was more determination and spirit in her tone than Trip could ever remember hearing before.

  ‘I don’t want to cause trouble between you and Father.’

  ‘You won’t,’ Constance said shortly.

  ‘You mean – you mean, you agree with him.’

  ‘I most certainly do not. I want you to marry for love and for no other reason, Thomas. If it is Emily Ryan you love – and you’re really sure about that – then so be it.’

  Trip sat up straight, startled by what his mother had said. ‘You really mean it?’

  Constance nodded. ‘My sole purpose in life is your happiness. Now, my dear, will you please come home?’

  Trip hesitated a moment longer before nodding and murmuring, ‘I really shouldn’t encroach on the Clarks’ kindness any longer, but—’

  At that moment there was a commotion outside the door of Amy’s parlour and a loud voice saying, ‘But I must see him, Amy.’

  ‘That’s Emily,’ Trip said, making as if to rise, but his legs were still weak and he fell back against the cushions.

  Instead, Constance went to the door and opened it. ‘Emily, my dear, do come in.’ And Emily rushed into the room and flung herself down on the sofa next to him.

  ‘Oh, Trip, Trip, are you all right?’

  He smiled and opened his arms to her. She leaned against him and wept.

  ‘There, there,’ he comforted. ‘It’s going to be all right. Mother’s on our side.’

  Emily raised her head and stared at him. ‘She is?’ Then she twisted round to look at Constance, who had resumed her seat. ‘You are?’

  ‘I just want Thomas to be happy, and if you’re the one to make him happy, then—’

  ‘Oh I will, I will. I promise I will. But his father has disowned him. I can’t allow Trip – I mean, Thomas – to lose his inheritance. He might come to hate me for it.’

  ‘Never,’ Trip said, with more strength in his voice than any of them in the room had thought possible.

  ‘I’ll bring that tea I promised. And an extra cup.’ Amy, who had followed Emily into the room, turned and left. She was no longer involved in the decisions to be made.

  ‘Oh Trip,’ Emily said. ‘I love you so much. I couldn’t let you give up everything for me.’

  ‘And I love you enough to do just that. Besides,’ he added, with a spark of his old humour, ‘I’m expecting my clever wife, with her growing business empire, to keep me.’

  Emily pulled a face. ‘It’s a long way from being an empire. My mother calls it a tin-pot business.’

  Trip touched her face tenderly. ‘Then she hasn’t got the faith in you that I have.’

  Constance cleared her throat, reminding them that she was still there. She was about to speak, but Amy came in carrying a tray with three cups of tea on it, ‘You’ll excuse me not joining you,’ she said tactfully as she handed them out, ‘but I must see to Harry.’

  ‘I can’t wait to meet my nephew, Amy,’ Emily said, letting the girl know that she understood and accepted the situation.

  Amy was about to leave the room, but she turned back briefly to ask hesitantly, ‘Has – has Josh spoken to his mother yet?’

  ‘I left early, so I don’t know. It won’t be easy, but he’s determined to come back here, Amy. Don’t worry. I’m on his side. I never thought we should have gone to the city in the first place; though,’ she turned and gazed at Trip once more, ‘if we hadn’t, I might not have found Trip again.’

  After Amy had left the room once more and the three had drunk their tea, Constance said, ‘So, Thomas, you will come home, won’t you?’

  Trip sighed. ‘Father will never allow it.’

  ‘I’ve thrown him out.’

  At the same time as Constance was sitting in Amy’s comfortable parlour, Arthur was visiting Belle. For several weeks, Arthur had kept the news from her. He had fully expected his son to come crawling back, begging forgiveness and promising never to see Emily Ryan again. But it had not happened. Arthur was angry that he had misjudged Thomas and yet somewhere deep inside him – though he would never acknowledge it – there was a sliver of pride that his son was made of sterner stuff than Arthur had supposed. Having always dictated the progress of his son’s life – boarding school, starting work in the lowest position in the factory – Arthur had not realized that his son had become a man; a man who was prepared to fight for what he wanted – for the woman he wanted.

  At his words, Belle paled. ‘What – what do you mean?’

  ‘I’ve disowned him. No son of mine is going to ally himself with a common slut like Emily Ryan – the daughter, I may say, of my former cleaning woman.’

  ‘He refused to stop seeing her?’ For the woman who had been brought up in the back streets of the city and who had lived on her wits and her looks, the thought that anyone could turn their back on a comfortable lifestyle and their future handed to them on a plate, was absurd.

  ‘He did – so out he went.’

  ‘You don’t really mean it?’

  ‘I most certainly do.’

  ‘But he’s your son and heir. What does your wife say?’

  ‘She doesn’t know yet. But there’s nothing she can do about it. She’ll do whatever I say.’

  Belle was thoughtful. Arthur was so sure of his wife’s compliance, but Belle wondered if his confidence was misplaced. Every mother will fight for her son, she thought. But for now, she said no more. Now, she must entertain her wealthy protector and sooth his anger, especially as perhaps now . . .

  But she would think about that later.

  ‘Lizzie, I must talk to you.’

  Josh had decided that, of the two women, he preferred to face Lizzie first. So, on the Tuesday evening after work, he knocked on the door of the Dugdales’ home.

  ‘Then I’ll leave you two lovebirds to it,’ Bess Dugdale said, heaving herself out of her chair.

  Oh dear, Josh thought. This is getting harder by the minute.

  When the door had closed behind her, Josh took Lizzie’s hands in his and looked her straight in the face. ‘You’ve been a good friend to all of us since we got here. No one has helped us more than you and your mother –
and Mick, if it comes to that – and I’m very fond of you, but I’ve never led you on, never let you think it was ever going to be more than that.’

  Lizzie stared back at him, a faint blush appearing in her cheeks, her eyes bright with anger already as she realized what was coming.

  ‘Oh yes, you have. You’ve kissed me, Josh Ryan. On the night of the ball. And you wanted more, if I’d let you. Don’t deny it.’

  Josh sighed. He couldn’t deny it, not any of it. He was a virile young man and she was an attractive girl, who’d made no secret of the fact that she wanted there to be more between them. And there had been a point – a very dangerous point on the night of the most recent ball, when over a year had passed and he still hadn’t heard anything from Amy – that he’d been tempted to let things take their course with Lizzie. But something had held him back. And now he knew why. Deep down, he’d always loved Amy.

  There was no easy way to tell her, so he said bluntly, ‘I’m going back to Ashford. I don’t belong in the city. I only came because it was what my mother wanted.’

  ‘Are you indeed? And what if I kick up a right stink? Your mother likes me. And Emily’s my friend.’

  ‘Emily tried to warn you from the start that I was promised to Amy, didn’t she?’ When Lizzie made no reply and avoided meeting his steady gaze, he insisted, ‘Didn’t she?’

  ‘I didn’t believe her. I thought it was because this slut, Amy, was her friend and she was being loyal to her.’ Now her head snapped up again. ‘But I’ve been her friend and she’s not being loyal to me now, is she?’

  ‘This has nothing to do with Emily. Nothing at all.’

  Lizzie’s eyes narrowed. ‘I could ruin her, you know. Her and her precious business. The girls would all follow me – do what I said.’

  ‘And you think that would win me over? That I’d give in to your threats? My sister is made of sterner stuff than that, Lizzie.’ He forbore to tell her that Emily had gone to Ashford today for her own reasons. He was seeing Lizzie in her true colours now and he didn’t like what he saw. He’d had a very lucky escape, because, if the truth were known, when he’d heard nothing from Amy for so long, he’d started to become dangerously fond of Lizzie. But thank goodness he’d paid a visit to Ashford when he did.

  ‘Where is Emily, by the way? She hasn’t been in work today.’

  ‘She’s gone to Ashford.’

  ‘Oh, to see her best friend, has she?’ Lizzie said bitterly.

  Josh ran his hand distractedly through his hair, wondering whether or not to tell Lizzie exactly why Emily had rushed back to Ashford. He decided to say nothing; Lizzie was in a bad enough mood already.

  Then, as if suddenly realizing she was alienating Josh rather than winning him over, Lizzie smiled coquettishly up at him and wound her arms around his neck. ‘Oh Josh, don’t you know I love you? I didn’t mean what I said about Emily. I was angry and hurt. I thought – I thought you liked me.’

  ‘I did – I do, Lizzie. I like you very much and if – if things were different, then perhaps . . .’ He broke off.

  ‘Then why? Why are you going back to Amy?’

  ‘Because – because I love her. I’ve never stopped. And besides, she’s had my baby.’

  ‘What?’ Lizzie gasped, her arms fell from his neck and she stepped back. Then her eyes narrowed as she asked nastily, ‘How can you be sure it’s yours? You left there over a year ago.’

  ‘Because the little chap’s almost a year old,’ Josh said quietly. ‘I know he’s mine.’

  ‘Huh! I wouldn’t be too sure, if I was you. But that’s your pigeon.’

  Lizzie knew she was beaten. There was no way she was going to prise Josh away from Amy and her child, who, he believed rightly or wrongly, was his.

  And now her devious mind turned back to how she could reap her revenge, if not on Josh, then on his sister. But she decided she would think about the matter carefully. She would plan her tactics and she would say nothing to Josh. Once he was back in the countryside with his precious Amy, then Miss Emily Ryan had better watch out. Didn’t they say that ‘Revenge is a dish best served cold’? Then that was how it would be: cold and calculating.

  Now she played the heartbroken, jilted girl. She allowed the tears to flow until Josh was moved to put his arms around her and say, brokenly, ‘Lizzie, I am sorry. Truly I am. I wouldn’t have hurt you for the world.’

  She sobbed all the harder against his shoulder, but they were crocodile tears. Inside, she was seething with anger. No one, but no one, humiliated Lizzie Dugdale and got away with it. If she couldn’t hurt Josh directly, then she would do so by ruining his beloved sister.

  And she knew just the person to help her do it.

  Thirty-Six

  Josh had been unable to talk to his mother that morning before he’d been obliged to go to work. After he’d seen Lizzie, as his mother stood at the sink washing up after their meal, he put his arms about her waist and said, ‘Mam, I have something I need to tell you. Please – leave that for now. Dry your hands and come and sit down.’

  Martha had not missed Emily yet and knew nothing about her journey to Ashford. Emily was often as late as this coming home from work and so her mother had thought nothing of her daughter’s absence from the tea table.

  ‘Don’t tell me you’ve lost your job again, Josh Ryan, because if you have—’

  ‘Come and sit down with Dad and I’ll tell you both.’

  Martha snorted. ‘Huh! He’ll not know what’s going on. All right.’ She dried her hands on a rough towel and sat down on the opposite side of the range to where her husband spent his days.

  ‘I think he understands a lot more than you think, Mam,’ Josh murmured, thinking back to what Emily had told him about the letters and how Walter had managed to communicate the facts to her.

  ‘Mebbe, mebbe not. Anyway, never mind about that now. Out with it. What have you been up to?’

  Josh moved a chair closer and sat between them. ‘I’ve been back to Ashford to see Amy and I’ve decided to give my notice in here and go back there permanently.’

  ‘You’ll do no such thing, Josh. You’re getting on nicely here and—’

  ‘Mam, just listen, please. Amy has a baby – a little boy – and it’s mine.’

  ‘Well, if you think that, you’re more stupid than I thought you were.’

  ‘He’s nearly a year old, Mam. I know he’s mine.’

  There was a noise beside him and he turned to see his father holding out a shaking hand, his mouth working as if he were trying to ask a question, but no sound would come out.

  Josh took his father’s hand between his own. ‘Yes, Dad, you have a grandson. A wonderful little boy called Harry.’

  Walter nodded, and it might only have been his shaking that made it seem so, but Josh was sure that, for a brief moment, his father gripped his hand. He took it as a sign that Walter was pleased with the news and that he agreed with what Josh intended to do. Which was more than could be said for Martha. ‘I’ll not let you. You’re still under age. You will do as you’re told, Josh Ryan, and—’

  ‘No, Mam, I’m sorry but I will not. My duty is back in Ashford. Our old house is still empty . . .’ He paused and decided not to tell her about Trip at present. ‘I’m sure you could get the tenancy back, if you asked.’

  ‘I have no intention of asking anyone for anything. We’re not going back. You’re not going back.’

  ‘Yes, I am. I’m going to marry Amy.’

  ‘Over my dead body.’

  ‘Don’t say things like that, Mam, please, because it’s what I’m going to do.’

  ‘You’re not old enough to get married. I won’t give my consent.’

  ‘Then I shall wait until I am. The villagers have been very good towards Amy and I think they will be with me, once they know I’m back for good. And I’ll make sure they know that it’s you standing in the way of me doing the honourable thing.’ He didn’t like threatening his mother, but it was all he could think of to
do.

  ‘You can’t get the tenancy of The Candle House.’

  ‘No,’ he said quietly, ‘but Mr Clark can.’

  Mother and son stared at each other in a battle of wills.

  Walter made a noise in his throat and waved his hands.

  ‘I think,’ Josh said quietly, ‘Dad agrees with me, don’t you?’

  This time Walter nodded vigorously; there was no mistaking his meaning.

  ‘Where’s Emily? Why isn’t she home? She’ll side with me,’ Martha said. ‘She’ll not want to go back, not now she’s got a nice little business going. Why you couldn’t be more like your sister, I don’t know.’

  Josh laughed, but without any bitterness. ‘Yes, you’re right, Mam. Emily should have been the boy. She came first and got all the ambition and drive. I just want a quiet life with Amy and my son.’ As he said the last words, there was the light of love in his eyes and a glow of pride. And Martha knew that, this time, she had a real battle on her hands. But she was not ready to capitulate yet.

  She sighed and asked again, ‘Where is Emily?’

  ‘She’s gone to Ashford.’

  Martha stared at him for a few moments. ‘Whatever for? This has nothing to do with her.’

  ‘Well, no, not exactly, but you see, when I went back, I found poor old Trip sleeping rough in our old home. He was in a dreadful state.’

  Now, Martha’s mouth dropped open and she gaped at her son. ‘Thomas Trippet? Why?’

  ‘He’d had a huge row with his father and Mr Trippet threw him out of his work and his home too, by the sounds of it.’

  ‘But – but he’s Arthur Trippet’s heir to his company. His only heir. Why on earth would he do a thing like that?’

  ‘He found out that Trip had been meeting Emily every Sunday and when he forbade Trip to see her any more, he refused.’

  ‘And he disowned him because of that?’

  ‘Apparently.’

  ‘Then Trip’s the fool and Emily must tell him so. He can’t lose his whole future because of her.’

  ‘He’s in love with her and she with him.’