The Buffer Girls

by Margaret Dickinson

‘Stuff and nonsense. He should marry someone of his own class. Someone who will bring more to the marriage than she ever could.’

  ‘Mam, this is your own daughter you’re talking about. And we’ve just been saying how ambitious Emily is. She’d be a marvellous wife for him. In fact,’ he grinned, ‘I think she has more drive than he has.’

  ‘You think her little tin-pot business, running a team of buffer girls, is a resounding success? It’s hardly “big business”, is it?’

  ‘“Little acorns”, Mam. You know what they say about “little acorns”?’

  But her only reply was a snort of derision. And if Josh thought she was finished, then he was very much mistaken.

  Thirty-Seven

  When Emily arrived back in Sheffield on the Wednesday evening, it was to walk into a maelstrom of anger and recriminations. The quarrel between Martha and Josh had escalated but, strangely, amidst it all, Walter seemed unperturbed and able to ignore the shouting going on all around him.

  ‘You’re an ungrateful little brat, Josh Ryan,’ Martha screeched. ‘You’ll live in poverty all your life. You’ll never amount to anything.’

  ‘Then Emily will do that for you. She’ll amount to something.’

  ‘Nonsense, she’s a girl. What can a girl do? She’ll get pregnant like that little slut, Amy, and bring more shame on this family.’

  ‘There’s no need to talk about me as if I’m not here,’ Emily said, removing her hat and coat. ‘Besides, I shall be marrying Trip and, yes, I might get pregnant then, but not before. Sorry, Josh.’

  Josh shrugged. ‘Don’t apologize. I did wrong by Amy, but I mean to put it right.’

  ‘I know you do and you’ll be happy with her. But,’ she went on, turning towards her mother, ‘what are you going to do, Mam?’

  ‘Oh, somebody’s actually thinking about me, are they? That’s very kind of you, I’m sure.’

  Emily touched her mother’s arm. ‘Why don’t you take Dad back to Ashford – back home? He’d be so much better there.’

  Suddenly, Martha’s shoulders slumped as if all the fight had gone out of her. ‘So, you don’t want me to stay here with you?’

  ‘There’s no need, Mam. Dad – and you – would be better off back home. You’ll be back amongst friends and there’s your little grandson to get to know.’

  Slowly Martha lifted her head. ‘I suppose you’re right,’ she said slowly. ‘You don’t want me, do you?’

  ‘I’ll always want you, Mam, but I don’t need you here to look after me.’

  Martha glanced towards her husband. ‘He would be better off back in the countryside. You’re right about that. All right, then. Once Josh is settled, we’ll go back, that is, if we can get the tenancy of our old home back.’

  ‘I’m sure you will.’

  ‘And I’ll move in with Amy, her dad and – my son.’ The pride with which Josh spoke the final two words was not lost on his family.

  ‘If you’re sure you’re doing the right thing, Josh,’ Martha said flatly, ‘then I won’t oppose your marriage to Amy any longer. I’ll sign whatever papers you need.’

  Josh moved to put his arms around her. ‘Thank you, Mam,’ he murmured against her hair. ‘That means a lot to me.’

  ‘I’ll need to look for work of some sort. I can’t expect you to keep us all, Josh, if you’ve a wife and child.’

  ‘We’ll work it out, Mam,’ Josh said.

  Emily stared at him. The change in her brother was amazing. He was the happiest she’d seen him since before they’d left Ashford. Now he was decisive and confident.

  Emily gave a silent nod of approval and smiled. ‘Right then, I’m off to bed. I’ve an early start in the morning.’

  Alone in the bedroom they would not have to share for much longer, Emily asked, ‘What did Lizzie say? I presume you’ve told her.’

  Josh’s face clouded. ‘I told her first – before Mam. She’s not best pleased, to put it mildly.’

  ‘I bet she isn’t.’

  Josh bit his lip, wondering whether to tell his sister about the threats which Lizzie had made against her, but he decided to say nothing. He believed that the girl had said things in the heat of the moment and hadn’t really meant them.

  And so Emily was unprepared for the onslaught that faced her the next morning when she arrived at work.

  Emily opened the door to the workshop and called out her usual cheery ‘Morning, all.’ But today there was no answering chorus. Instead, the girls were standing near their machines. Although they were dressed in their workaday clothes and covered with newspaper, they were not working. The machines were silent. Emily glanced around at the solemn faces; Nell’s face was set with what looked like disappointment, Ida looked anxious and the youngest girl, Jane, whom they’d only set on the previous week as an errand girl, was actually weeping.

  ‘What’s happened? What’s the matter?’

  Lizzie stepped forward, her arms folded across her chest, her eyes glittering with anger. ‘You, Miss Emily Ryan. You’re the problem. At least your brother is.’

  Unease began to seep through Emily as she began to understand, but Lizzie’s next words left her in no doubt. ‘Josh has jilted me and humiliated me. And Yorkshire lasses don’t like that. And they stick together. They’re loyal. And you’re not one of us, so we want you out. We’re taking over this business. And tha can mog off right now.’

  Emily glanced round again at the faces. Nell was biting her lip, Ida was avoiding her gaze and Jane’s sobbing grew louder. Emily felt sick in the pit of her stomach. She had started this business and, little though it was, she had felt it was hers.

  ‘And you’ll be able to manage all the business side of it, Lizzie, will you? Getting the orders? Paying the bills and the wages?’

  ‘It can’t be that difficult,’ Lizzie sneered. ‘You’ve always made the running of things so important just to make yourself sound the big “I am”. We’ll manage.’

  Emily said no more. She knew Lizzie was quick and intelligent, but Nell could hardly read and write. But, obviously, it was no longer her problem. She shrugged. ‘So be it, then. If you come into my little office with me, Lizzie, I’ll just make up what money I’m owed and I’ll leave you to it.’

  Nell’s eyes widened. ‘You’re going? Just like that? Without a fight?’

  Emily sighed. ‘Josh has let Lizzie down in a way, but I wouldn’t go as far as to say he’s jilted her because he never meant her to think they were anything more than just friends.’

  ‘I don’t think friends kiss like he kissed me on the night of the ball,’ Lizzie said nastily.

  Emily faced her. ‘I didn’t know that, Lizzie. Then I’m sorry – sorry if he has led you on to believe he was becoming fond of you, but I did try to warn you at the start.’

  ‘Did she?’ Nell glared at Lizzie.

  ‘She’s friends with this Amy trollop that he’s going back to in Ashford. And she is a trollop,’ Lizzie added, ‘because she’s had his baby. At least, he says it’s his. But what proof has he got? That’s what I say. But if he’s daft enough to believe her, then that’s his loss.’

  ‘Oh well, if he’s going back to do the decent thing by a girl he got in the family way, then that’s a bit different,’ Nell said, seeming to soften a little, but Lizzie rounded on her.

  ‘Don’t you start to side with them, Nell Geddis, else I’ll throw you out, an’ all.’

  ‘There’s no need for that, Lizzie,’ Emily said. ‘I’ll go.’

  ‘Are you going back to Ashford too, then?’ Nell asked.

  ‘No. I’m staying in the city,’ Emily said firmly, but she told them nothing about Trip losing his job too. What they would both do, she didn’t know. She had thought that at least she had work to support them both for a start, but now that too was gone. But Emily was young and strong and a hard worker and now she had a skill literally at her fingertips. And so had Trip. There’d be plenty of work for them, even in these difficult times; they just had to find it.
r />   ‘Lizzie, are you really sure about this?’ Nell was obviously having second thoughts now. ‘I mean, if Emily warned you . . .’

  ‘Nell, if you side with her, then you’re out an’ all.’

  Nell shrugged. ‘Sorry, Emily. I can’t afford to lose my job.’

  ‘I don’t want you to, Nell. Nor any of you. I’ll just collect my things and what I’m owed and be gone.’

  ‘He’s what?’

  Arthur Trippet, arriving home on the Friday afternoon, was incensed when he heard the news that his son was at home and asleep in his own bedroom.

  ‘Thomas is here and he is staying here until he is quite well,’ Constance said calmly. ‘He’s been sleeping rough since you threw him out and has not been eating properly.’

  ‘You get him out of this house this minute. Do you hear me?’

  ‘I could hardly not hear you, Arthur. I expect half the village can hear you ranting, but I will do no such thing. He stays here until he is well enough to leave of his own accord.’

  ‘“Own accord” be damned. I have disowned him. I went to my solicitor this morning and remade my will.’

  ‘That is your prerogative,’ Constance said calmly.

  ‘I’ve disinherited him too,’ he said, trying to needle his wife. Her serenity was infuriating him. ‘From the business. He’ll have no job, no money – nothing. And I want you to change your will so that he gets nothing from you either.’

  ‘Do you now?’ Constance seemed unperturbed.

  He stepped closer, almost threateningly, but Constance stood her ground. ‘I rather think,’ she said, smiling smugly, ‘that Thomas and Emily will do rather well together. They’ll have no need of your little factory.’

  ‘Little, is it?’ Arthur bellowed. ‘That little factory keeps you in the lifestyle you enjoy.’

  ‘And it was my father’s money that enabled you to keep the factory going when it hit a bad patch,’ Constance said quietly, resisting the urge to shout back at him. ‘And, legally, I am an equal partner. Don’t forget that, Arthur.’

  Arthur turned purple in the face and, for a moment, looked as if he might explode. ‘So, you intend to let him stay here, do you? Against my express wishes?’

  ‘I do.’

  ‘Then,’ Arthur growled, ‘I shall not be living here until I hear that he has left.’

  If he had thought to rattle Constance’s resolve, it didn’t work, for she merely inclined her head and said, ‘Very well.’

  As he turned from her and flung open the door, Constance said, ‘I will send word when he has left. I presume you will be staying with Mrs Beauman. Please give her my kind regards.’

  Arthur stood very still for a moment, but he did not turn around and went out through the door without another word.

  Once Martha had realized that any further argument was futile, events moved very quickly. Josh had written to Amy to tell her what was happening and this time his letter reached her:

  I hope this will be all right with both you and your dad especially, but Mam and Dad are coming back too. If they can get the tenancy again, they want to move back into The Candle House. I would work there, of course, like I did before, but live with you, your dad and little Harry. I have to work a full week’s notice until next Friday, but on Saturday, 25 February, Amy, we’ll be back home . . .

  Martha packed up all their belongings and, the day after Josh had worked his notice, they left Sheffield to go back to what, in their hearts, they all still called home. Emily went with them to help them settle in and to see Trip again. But she was determined to return to the city.

  On hearing the news from Josh, Amy had cleaned the house next door from top to bottom. On the day the family were expected, she lit a fire in the range and cooked a hot meal that wouldn’t spoil if they were later than she expected. Just before four o’clock the removal van drew up outside the house. Josh was first out and shouting, ‘Amy, Amy, where are you? We’re here.’

  She came out of the smithy leading Harry by the hand.

  Josh swept them both into his arms and Martha, climbing stiffly down from the cab of the van, saw the touching reunion. She turned to help Walter down as Emily got out of the back of the van where she and Josh had travelled. It had been an uncomfortable ride, but they were here at last and she went at once to help her mother.

  Emily lowered Walter gently into the chair by the range where already a fire burned and an appetizing aroma came from the oven.

  He looked up at her, a tremulous smile quivering on his mouth and his eyes filled with tears.

  ‘What is it, Dad?’

  His mouth worked. He was trying valiantly to speak. Emily waited patiently, knowing this was important to him. At last – at long last – for the first time since before he’d gone away to war, Walter whispered hoarsely just one word. ‘Home!’

  Now Emily’s eyes filled with tears too and she nodded. ‘Yes, Dad,’ she said, her voice husky. ‘You’re home again.’

  He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes with a contented sigh.

  Thirty-Eight

  Two hours later, having helped unload the van, Emily was free to visit Riversdale House and as she walked up the village street her heart fluttered with excitement at the thought of seeing Trip again. She met one or two villagers and was obliged to stop to speak to them and to answer their kind enquiries.

  ‘Yes, we’ve come home. At least my parents and Josh have. I’m going back to Sheffield.’

  She must have said the words half a dozen times before she arrived at the big house at the end of the street and walked up the driveway. She went round the house to the back door where she was greeted by Polly and shown into the morning room where Constance was sitting with her embroidery.

  ‘My dear girl, come in. Polly, please lay an extra place at the dinner table—’

  ‘No, please. I’ve already eaten with the family. Amy had cooked us a meal, but please don’t let me delay you. I – I should have realized. I can come back later.’

  ‘Nonsense,’ Constance said firmly, laying aside her needlework. ‘You can sit and talk to us while we eat.’

  ‘Oh, but—’

  ‘There’s only the two of us. Mr Trippet isn’t here. He has decided to stay in the city whilst Thomas is here, so we don’t stand on ceremony when there are just the two of us.’ She turned to the maid. ‘Polly, please tell Master Thomas that Miss Emily is here. You don’t mind me calling you Emily, do you?’

  ‘No, of course not.’ But Emily felt herself blushing. To be treated as an equal by Constance Trippet was unnerving.

  After a few moments, during which time Constance made kind enquiries about their journey and her father’s health, Trip came hurrying into the room. Without any embarrassment, he put his arms around Emily and kissed her. Emily leaned back and looked up into his face, ‘You look much better.’

  ‘I feel it.’ He grinned. ‘Mother’s been wonderful about this whole sorry affair. She’s on our side, but it’s high time I went out and found work, so, I’m coming back to Sheffield with you.’

  ‘You can stay with me. My family have come home, so I’m on my own in the house we rented.’

  ‘Oh, but I couldn’t do that, Emily. It would ruin your reputation.’

  ‘Well—’

  ‘It wouldn’t if you were married,’ Constance said quietly and the two young people turned to look at her in amazement. ‘You’re both of age now, or at least almost. Your twenty-first birthday is next month, isn’t it, Emily? You won’t need anyone’s consent then. It could all be arranged quite quickly – unless, of course, you want a big, lavish wedding?’ She glanced at Emily, who shook her head swiftly. ‘No, I don’t. But Amy and Josh will be getting married very soon. Why don’t we ask them if they’d mind having a double wedding? Would you mind that, Trip?’

  ‘Of course not. It’s a lovely idea.’

  ‘And we could hold the reception for both of you here on the lawn at the side of the house, if the weather is kind. And if it is
n’t, then there’s plenty of room in the house.’

  ‘Oh, but we couldn’t . . .’ Trip and Emily spoke together, but Constance held up her hand and said decidedly, ‘I insist. Call it my wedding present to you, if you wish.’

  ‘What about Father?’ Trip asked hesitantly.

  Constance shrugged and her expression hardened. ‘Your father can do exactly what he likes. If he wishes to attend the wedding, then he can. If not . . .’ She left the words hanging in the air, but it was obvious that she didn’t care one way or the other.

  After he’d eaten dinner with his mother, whilst Emily sat beside him feeling rather awkward but soon made to feel at ease by Constance, Trip and Emily walked down to The Candle House. Emily was encouraged to see that Trip was much stronger now. Hand in hand, they walked into the house to see Walter sitting in the chair by the range. In front of him, on the hearthrug, Amy was kneeling beside her son, already dressed in his nightshirt.

  ‘This is your grandpa, darling,’ she was saying. ‘Say, “Hello, Grandpa.”’

  From the doorway Emily and Trip watched quietly as Harry regarded Walter solemnly for a few minutes. Then he smiled and said, ‘’Lo, Pap-pap.’

  Emily stifled her chuckle. Harry had straightaway found his own name for the new grandfather in his life.

  Walter’s eyes filled with tears and a ghost of a smile spread across his mouth. Suddenly, Harry ran to a toy box in the corner of the room and picked out an ABC book. Coming back, he climbed up onto Walter’s knee, settled himself and opened the book. Pointing at a picture on one of the pages, he looked up at his grandpa and said, quite clearly for one so young, ‘Cat, Pap-pap.’ And then he waited. Now, Walter’s mouth worked as he tried to make a noise. ‘C-ca . . .’

  ‘Cat.’ Harry repeated and waited again. After four attempts, Walter managed to say something that was recognizable as the word. Harry turned the page. ‘Dog.’ And the effort was repeated.

  ‘The little chap’s very advanced for his age, isn’t he?’ Trip whispered, watching the heart-warming sight of the little boy on his grandfather’s knee.