The Buffer Girls

by Margaret Dickinson

  ‘That’s only if I can get back the work that Lizzie has lost.’

  ‘You will and more besides. I’m sure of it.’

  Emily laughed. ‘You’ve more confidence in me than I have in myself. But let me think about it and talk to Mr Hawke and Trip.’

  ‘May I come back tomorrow?’

  ‘Of course.’

  Nell hugged her and, as she hurried away, Emily warned, ‘Not a word to the other girls yet. Not before I’ve had time to . . .’

  But Nell had gone and Emily was very doubtful that she would be able to keep the news and the glimmer of hope it represented to herself.

  ‘I’m sorry for them, of course, I am,’ Nathan said later that day when they’d finished work and Emily had told him and Trip about Nell’s visit. ‘But you can’t take on more workers when you haven’t got the work for them, Emily.’

  ‘I know,’ Emily said worriedly, ‘and I haven’t time to go out looking for more customers.’

  ‘There you are, then,’ Trip said triumphantly. ‘Just take on one person – let’s say Nell, if she’s the best worker – whilst you go out and find the work.’

  Emily glanced at Nathan, who was thoughtful. ‘What do you think, Mr Hawke?’

  Suddenly, he smiled, ‘Since both premises are mine and I’m going to lose one of the rents anyway, let’s keep both. Take Nell on to work upstairs here – to take your place – and set the other girls back on round there.’ He nodded towards the adjacent street. ‘We can give it a try. How many girls are there?’

  ‘I think only Nell, Ida and the young girl, Flo, now Lizzie’s gone. Nell said they’d all agreed they don’t want Lizzie involved this time and besides, I don’t expect she’d want to come back.’

  ‘You’re better off without her,’ Trip said. ‘She’d only cause you more trouble out of spite.’

  ‘One note of caution, though,’ Nathan said. ‘Make sure all the girls know that this is a month’s trial to see how it goes and that they’ll maybe need to start on a reduced wage until you’ve more work.’

  So when Nell returned early the following morning, she was overwhelmed to hear what had been proposed.

  She flung her arms around Emily and hugged her. ‘I don’t know how to thank you.’

  ‘It’s Mr Hawke you have to thank. He’s the one taking the risk, really.’

  ‘Oh, the girls will be thrilled.’

  ‘There’s just one thing. We all agree with you about Lizzie, so it’s only you, Ida and Flo.’

  ‘You’re right not to have her back – even if she’d come. She’s a vindictive little madam and you want to watch out when her brother gets to hear about us setting up again. There’s no knowing what he might do.’

  Emily frowned. She was beginning to hear several hints about Mick Dugdale. Even Nathan had made a remark about him. She opened her mouth to ask Nell what she meant but the excited girl couldn’t wait to tell the other two. ‘We’ll work really hard for you, Emily, I promise.’

  ‘Oh Nell, I know you will. I want you to work here on your own – you were always the best worker – and Ida and Flo can work at the old place.’

  ‘When can we start?’

  Emily smiled. ‘Tomorrow morning.’

  And then Nell was off and running and it wasn’t until she was halfway down the street that Emily realized she still hadn’t asked her what she meant about Mick Dugdale.

  The following morning the three girls, already dressed in their buff-brats – white caps now, since Emily thought they looked much nicer, even if it meant more washing, and red neck-rags – arrived and were introduced to their benefactor, Nathan Hawke. They shook his hand and thanked him prettily.

  ‘Dear me, such lovely girls. Now, where did I put my spectacles? I must have a proper look at you. Ah, here they are.’

  He perched the steel-rimmed spectacles on his nose and looked the newcomers up and down. Then he smiled and nodded. ‘You’ll do.’

  ‘We’ll all work really hard for you and Emily,’ Nell said, as the acknowledged leader of the three of them.

  ‘Right,’ Emily said to Ida and Flo, ‘you two go back to the Rockingham Street workshop. Nell’s going to work upstairs. I shall take my turn at a wheel as much as I can, alongside Nell here, but I need to concentrate on finding more work for us. Ida, I shall call round often, but you’re in charge of locking up the premises in Rockingham Street.’

  ‘What about an errand lass?’

  ‘Can’t afford one at the moment, not for either place, but if work increases, then we’ll see.’

  ‘I’ll do it for both workshops, if you like,’ Flo said, readily. She was a small, thin girl, and rather pale faced, Emily thought, but Nell had told her that whilst Flo wasn’t very good at buffing yet, she was always willing and eager to learn. And her offer showed that she was not afraid of hard work. ‘I don’t mind getting up early. Me mam’s got a new babby and ’ee wakes the whole family up at six in the morning for his first feed. We only live a bit further down Rockingham Street. I can nearly fall out of my bed straight into work. And then I can do a bit of roughing when I can.’

  ‘We need you to learn more now than just removing the dents and marks from spoons and forks,’ Emily said.

  ‘She’ll be orreight, Emily,’ Ida said. ‘She just needs a bit of encouragement, that’s all. Lizzie was supposed to be teaching her, but she was very impatient.’ She put her arm around the younger girl. ‘I’ll see you learn all the different processes, luv. And mebbe you can come round to Nell here sometimes and watch her.’ She bent her head close to the girl’s ear, but they all heard her deliberately loud whisper as she added, ‘She’s the best buffer I’ve ever seen, but don’t tell her I said so.’

  With the other three girls set to work, Emily went home and dressed in her best clothes and went out to seek more orders.

  When the girls had gone, Trip, who had already begun working alongside Nathan, paused and said, ‘I think they’ll be all right, Mr Hawke.’

  The older man chuckled. ‘With your lovely wife in charge of them, my boy, they can’t be anything else.’

  Forty-Two

  Lizzie knocked on the door of the apartment where she and Josh had taken Belle. She was a little nervous, not knowing what her reception would be. She was even more flustered when she saw the man sitting in Belle’s front room, whom she recognized as Arthur Trippet, even though Belle made no attempt to introduce them to each other. She, too, seemed ill at ease now.

  But then Lizzie smiled inwardly. Actually, she thought, this was perhaps working out better than she’d hoped. She knew all about Arthur disowning his son. And, of course, living in the same court – how had they dared to come back? – she knew, too, that Trip and Emily were now married and that Emily was trying to establish another business in the workshop above Mr Hawke. And, if the latest rumours were true, to reopen the business that Lizzie – and her brother Mick – had helped her to start in Rockingham Street.

  ‘You want to go and see Mr Trippet,’ Mick had suggested. ‘They’re all taking no notice of me just now. That bugger Hawke has taken a stand against me and the other little mesters are following his lead. But he’ll regret it, you mark my words. They all will. I’m working on it, Sis, I promise, but you go and see old man Trippet. Word has it he’s disowned his son. For a start, you can get back at the little bitch through her beloved husband.’

  ‘I can’t go to his factory. He’d send me off with a flea in my ear.’

  Mick had frowned, his devious mind working quickly. ‘What about that woman you met in the park when you were with Josh? Belle Beauman?’

  At the mention of Josh’s name, Lizzie’s face hardened as she nodded. Now Mick grinned, ‘’Cos I’ve got a bit of news for you about her, that’s if you don’t already know. She’s old man Trippet’s whore.’

  Lizzie’s eyes widened. ‘Really? Now that is interesting.’

  ‘Why don’t you go and see her?’

  And so, on her brother’s suggestion, Lizzie had
come to see Belle. She was disconcerted for a moment, finding Mr Trippet there, but perhaps it was all meant to be, for it was really his help she wanted and to talk directly to him was far better than asking his mistress to intercede for her.

  She took a deep breath. ‘Mr Trippet . . .’

  For a moment, the man looked startled and cast an angry glance at Belle for having invited the girl in. He didn’t want all and sundry knowing his business, but as the girl began to speak, he realized that perhaps, after all, she could be useful to him.

  ‘I have a very juicy bone to pick with your new daughter-in-law.’

  ‘She’s no daughter-in-law of mine,’ Arthur snapped.

  Lizzie now smiled openly and put her head on one side with a coquettish gesture. ‘Then,’ she said softly, ‘you will have no objection to me trying to – er – throw a spanner in her works.’

  Arthur’s face brightened. ‘None at all. But how do you intend to do that?’

  ‘She’s started up a little buffing business again and got all Nathan Hawke’s buffing work back and Trip – I mean, Thomas – is working for him. Nell and the other two girls, who were my employees, have gone to work for Emily. They are traitors, that’s what they are, and I want to ruin the lot of ’em.’

  ‘What happened between you and the Ryan girl?’ he asked bluntly, still refusing to call her by her given name.

  Lizzie glanced at Belle. ‘I was walking out with her brother, Josh, but he jilted me to go back and marry the little slut he’d got pregnant in Ashford and I blame Emily for encouraging him. She knew how I felt about him. Besides,’ she ran her tongue around dry lips. She could be pushing matters a little too far, but she plunged in, hoping that she recognized a ruthlessness in the man sitting in front of her that was in her own nature. ‘Besides, if I hurt his precious sister, I hurt Josh too.’

  Arthur smiled grimly and nodded slowly. ‘I see. It’s all about revenge, is it?’

  ‘Absolutely.’

  He was thoughtful for several moments, whilst both Lizzie, and Belle, too, grew increasingly anxious. They were both unsure exactly what his reaction was going to be. And then Arthur gave a low, rumbling chuckle. ‘Then, I think, my dear girl, that we could be useful to each other. I can certainly speak to all my fellow cutlers to prevent them putting their business her way. That should stop the little madam.’

  And now Belle relaxed too. Although she had never thought of herself as a vindictive woman – she had lived in the shadow of Arthur’s marriage for so many years without a word of complaint – she now saw a way to bring about a plan of her own.

  ‘There’s not much I can do to prevent Thomas working for Hawke, but I can certainly do something about her.’

  ‘That’ll do me. I have nothing specific against your son, to be honest.’

  ‘Well, I certainly have and, like you say about her brother, if I hurt her, then I hurt my son too.’ He balled his right hand into a fist. ‘Not physical harm, you understand. I don’t want that, but I’ll ruin them both, if I can. If I have my way, they’ll never work in this city again.’

  As Lizzie took her leave, Arthur stood up and shook her hand. ‘Keep in touch. You’d better not come to my factory, though.’ He nodded towards Belle. ‘You can always leave a message with Mrs Beauman.’

  As the girl left, Belle wondered what the next day would bring, for she had a surprise of her own for Arthur Trippet.

  The following morning was Sunday, and Arthur announced that he thought the coast would now be clear for him to return home to Ashford. ‘If Thomas and his new wife –’ he spat out the words – ‘are back in the city, then it means that Constance is alone and my wife,’ he said bitterly, ‘has a lot of explaining to do.’

  ‘Do stay for luncheon, Arthur, please.’

  ‘Very well,’ he agreed, not knowing that he was about to get a shock that would have repercussions for years to come.

  Just before the meal was due to be served by Belle’s one and only maid, whose services were paid for by Arthur, there was a knock at the front door. The maid glanced at Belle with wide eyes and a fearful glance towards Arthur, who was sitting, quite unperturbed, reading the previous day’s Times newspaper. Calmly – although she was quaking inside – Belle nodded to her maid to open the door and admit the person, who came every week at this time, although he had been unable to visit whilst Arthur had been staying with her. After a few moments, the door to the sitting room opened and the maid ushered in a tall young man of about sixteen with dark hair and brown eyes. He hesitated for a moment and glanced at Belle, but at a nod from her he came slowly into the room.

  Arthur looked up at him and then stared fixedly at him for a long moment. The young man met his scrutiny steadily as Belle rose slowly to her feet and went to stand beside the newcomer. She tucked her arm through his and hugged it to her. In a voice that was unsteady, she said, ‘Arthur, this is my son, Richard.’

  Arthur struggled to his feet, his face thunderous. ‘Is it indeed? You kept that very quiet. I suppose my money has been keeping him too, has it?’

  ‘Arthur,’ Belle said quietly and now her voice was strangely calm, ‘he is your son too.’

  For a moment, Arthur stood very still and then he fell back into the chair with a groan. His hands shook and his face worked.

  ‘Quick,’ Belle said, rushing to his side, ‘get a glass of water and send for a doctor. I think the shock has caused him to have a stroke.’

  But Arthur was waving his hands frantically and shaking his head. ‘No, no,’ he gasped. ‘No doctor.’

  If the moment had not been so serious, Belle might have laughed as she realized the reason behind Arthur’s refusal to send for medical aid; he didn’t want to be caught at her house.

  After a few moments, Arthur had recovered enough to glare at Belle and then at Richard. ‘So, you didn’t think fit to carry out my orders all those years ago. What is it? Fifteen, sixteen years? So why have you not told me of his existence before?’ And then, before Belle could speak, he answered his own question. ‘I expect you thought your meal ticket would disappear.’

  He continued to stare at Richard, who met his gaze fearlessly, yet without belligerence or insolence. It never occurred to Arthur to question whether the boy was actually his; Richard’s resemblance to his half-brother, Thomas, was unmistakeable. There was no doubt in Arthur’s mind that the young man standing so calmly before him was indeed his son.

  Quietly, Belle said, ‘If you wish to end our friendship, then I shall quite understand.’

  Arthur grunted. ‘Oh, sit down, the pair of you. You make the place look untidy.’

  Belle and her son glanced at each other and then did as he asked.

  ‘So, I still have a son after all, have I?’ Arthur mused, his gaze never leaving Richard’s face.

  ‘You have two,’ Belle dared to say.

  Arthur shook his head. ‘No, not now. Thomas is lost to me. I won’t have deliberate disobedience.’

  Belle bit her lip. She wanted to defend Trip, to say that all the young man had done was to fall in love. Didn’t that count for anything with Arthur? Evidently, she thought, it did not.

  ‘So, how old are you? What school do you attend?’

  ‘I’m sixteen, sir, and I’m at the King Edward the Seventh School.’ The boy’s voice was low and cultured.

  Arthur’s mouth was tight. ‘And I presume I have been supporting you all this time. Why have I not seen you before? Where do you live?’

  ‘Richard was placed with foster parents just after his birth. He still lives with them, but comes to see me every Sunday. Normally, you are not here on that day.’

  ‘And when did he learn about me?’

  ‘He’s always known that I am his mother. I told him about you when he was twelve and all about my – my past.’ She glanced at her son with fond eyes. ‘He is a mature young man for his age and he understood. I’m sorry that I have deceived you over Richard’s existence. When I fell pregnant and told you, I was shocked to th
e core that you told me to get rid of the baby. I couldn’t do it. And then when you stayed away for so long – I thought at that time you were never coming back – I decided to keep him.’ It was as if they were talking about a puppy or a kitten, not a living, breathing human being. Richard was infuriated, but he had the sense to keep his face expressionless and to say nothing except to answer his father’s questions politely. Although he’d known exactly who his father was for the past four years and had learned about – and understood – his mother’s way of life, he had never expected to meet Arthur Trippet. At school he kept quiet about the relationship; his friends thought his foster parents were his natural parents. No one knew – or guessed – that his real mother was the mistress of the wealthy factory owner, who was well known in the city and who wielded power over the lives of all his employees, including his legitimate son, Thomas.

  ‘Well, well, well,’ Arthur murmured, stroking his moustache thoughtfully for some minutes, whilst Richard sat, outwardly placid, awaiting whatever decision Arthur Trippet was going to make. ‘You know, Belle,’ Arthur said at last, ‘I could be very angry with you that you disobeyed me and have deceived me all these years, but in the circumstances I now find myself, I am very pleased that he – exists.’

  ‘He’s doing very well at school,’ Belle said proudly. ‘He’s very good at maths and his schoolmasters think he could go to university if—’

  Arthur shook his head. ‘No, he will leave school at the end of this term and take up a place in the offices at my factory. If he’s as clever as you say, he can learn the administrative side of the business.’ He was thoughtful for a moment and then his eyes narrowed as he said slowly, speaking directly to the boy, ‘If you do well, I am prepared to acknowledge you as my son and perhaps, one day . . .’

  He left the sentence unfinished, but there was no mistaking the meaning behind his words. If Richard did well, he would one day inherit the works.