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Authors: Margaret Dickinson

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BOOK: The Buffer Girls
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Emily felt her heart race as the vehicle passed them.

‘By heck,’ Lizzie laughed shakily, ‘don’t go getting yourself run over. You’re
not in the country now, y’know. You’d better hang on to me.’

Gratefully, Emily linked her arm through Lizzie’s and stayed close to her side.

They wandered through Walsh’s department store, admiring the latest fashions in women’s clothes, trying on hats when the eagle-eyed assistants weren’t watching. On through
perfumery, breathing in the expensive scents they’d never be able to afford.
In the household department, the furniture only merited a cursory glance from the two young women, who were not
even thinking of their ‘bottom drawer’ yet, but they did admire the delicate china tea sets and dinner services, the sparkling glassware and then Lizzie pointed to the display of
cutlery. ‘Look, they even sell some of ours. Don’t they look grand set out in boxes?’ She bent closer.
‘They’ve got a lovely finish on them. I bet Nell did those.
She’s the best buffer we’ve got, you know.’

As they walked home arm in arm, Lizzie said, ‘We’ll go out again tomorrow afternoon and meet up with the other girls from work. We go most weeks – only window shopping, mind,
when the shops are shut.’ She laughed. ‘It’s the only way we can be sure we don’t spend money. And, of course,
we get dressed up in our Sunday best and show the lads what
they’re missing. Come with us, do,’ she urged. ‘It’ll help you get to know the others. There’s not much chance when there’s noisy machinery going all the time at
work. You haven’t mastered the art of lip-reading yet, have you?’

Emily had been amused to see how the girls still talked to one another even though proper conversation
was impossible; they were all expert lip-readers.

‘Oh, I’d love to,’ she said, trying to be sure her tone sounded regretful. ‘Maybe another time.’

‘Is it your dad? Will you have to stay home tomorrow and help your mam?’

‘Well, yes and no.’ Emily hesitated, unsure whether to confide in Lizzie. Their friendship was very new and she wasn’t yet sure how trustworthy the girl was. She decided
to be
straightforward. ‘Are you good at keeping secrets?’

‘Ooh, Emily, do tell.’

‘Only if you promise.’

‘Cross my heart,’ Lizzie said, her eyes dancing.

‘I’m meeting someone on Sunday afternoon.’

Lizzie’s mouth rounded. ‘Who?’

‘Trip. I mean, Thomas Trippet.’

Now Lizzie gasped and her mouth dropped open. ‘Not him from Trippets’? The son?’

Emily nodded. ‘I knew
him back home. In Ashford. That’s where his family have a big country house.’

‘Oh.’ There was disappointment in Lizzie’s tone. ‘So you’re just old friends, are you? No big romance? Because I’ve heard he’s ever so handsome. Half
the girls in Sheffield are after him.’

Emily laughed aloud, visualizing the many hundreds of girls who must live in the city, queuing up to meet Trip. Mind you,
she thought, I don’t blame them.

‘He is lovely and yes, we’re just very good friends.’

There was a pause before Lizzie added softly, ‘But you’d like it to be more, wouldn’t you?’

Emily sighed. ‘Oh yes, I would like it to be a lot more.’

Lizzie hugged Emily’s arm to her side. ‘Then you go to meet him on Sunday, but you must tell me
all
about it afterwards.’

‘Josh knows, but
not a word in front of my mother, please.’

‘Of course not. I love secrets.’ Trying to sound casual, Lizzie added, ‘Is Josh the sort to go for a walk on a Sunday afternoon?’

Emily sighed and decided it had to be done. ‘I really don’t know about here in the city. Back home—’

Lizzie shook Emily’s arm a little impatiently. ‘You keep on about “back home”. This is your home now. Yours and
Josh’s too.’

‘Yes, I know, but . . .’

‘But what?’

Emily took a deep breath. ‘There were four of us who spent a lot of time together when we were younger. Josh, me, Trip and –’ she bit her lip before blurting out –
‘Amy.’

Lizzie’s tone was tight as she asked, ‘And who, might I ask, is Amy?’

‘She lived next door with her father. He was – is – the village blacksmith.’

‘And?’

‘Well, she and Josh – she and Josh –’ Emily ran her tongue around her dry lips – ‘started courting properly about three months ago.’

Lizzie was silent for a moment before saying quietly, ‘And are they still courting?’

‘He’s promised to go back when he’s twenty-one and Mam can’t rule him any more.’

Lizzie laughed wryly. ‘If I really loved someone, I wouldn’t let my mam stop me, I
can tell you.’

‘No, I can believe that. But Josh is a little different.’

‘He’s weak, you mean?’

‘No, I don’t,’ Emily flashed back. ‘Far from it. He wanted to marry Amy and stay in Ashford. He didn’t want to come here any more than I did, but Mam said she
wouldn’t give her consent to his marriage and he needs that. He’s only eighteen.’

Lizzie was thoughtful. ‘So, is he still seeing
this Amy? Does he plan to go back to visit her?’

Emily shrugged. ‘I know he’d like to, but it’s costly to travel back there. It must be all of twenty miles. He’s written to her, though. I know that.’

At that moment, they arrived at the court and went into their own homes, but not before Emily had noticed the smug expression on Lizzie’s face.

Ten

Amy sat at the kitchen table in the living quarters behind her father’s blacksmith’s shop with Josh’s letter in her hand. He was a good writer; the letter was
full of a description of their journey, their arrival in the city and his good fortune in finding a job so quickly.

. . . though it was all thanks to Trip, I have to admit. So, I’m working at Trippets’ and Emily
has a job too. A lot of folk who work in the cutlery industry
live in this area of the city and in the court where we’re living – it’s a courtyard behind a street, with houses and small workshops on all four sides – there’s a
nice girl living next door who’s got friendly with Emily. She took her to meet the missus she works for – that’s the woman in charge of the buffer girls – and
she gave
our Em a job. So, we’re all fixed up, Amy, and the sooner I can get some money saved up, the sooner I can come back and marry you . . .

‘What’s he got to say for himself, then?’ Bob Clark asked a little brusquely. He was more disappointed than he cared to admit that Josh had left the village. He had liked the
lad – still did. He couldn’t just switch off his fondness
for Josh, even though the young man hadn’t been strong enough to defy his mother. He couldn’t do it any more than
Amy could. But he couldn’t bear to see the sadness on her face and the anxiety in her eyes.

‘Not much really,’ Amy said softly, her gaze still on Josh’s scrawling writing. ‘The place where they’re living sounds a bit cramped but he says the folk there seem
friendly enough.’
She paused briefly, wondering just how friendly this pretty girl-next-door already was with Josh. She took a deep breath and went on, ‘He’s got a job at Mr
Trippet’s works. He says he met up with Trip and he got him the job.’

Bob looked up sharply. ‘Did he now? Mm. I wonder what old man Trippet will say about that when he finds out?’

‘Why? What d’you mean, Dad?’

‘Oh nothing, love.
What else does he say?’

‘Nothing much – really. Except that he still intends to come back here when—’ Suddenly Amy gulped and tears flooded down her cheeks.

‘Oh Amy, me lass, don’t take on so.’ Bob pushed back his chair and came around the table to kneel at her side. He put his arms about her and she buried her face in his
neck.

‘It’s all right, me little lass. Don’t fret. I’ll look
after you – and the bairn.’

Amy gasped and pulled back a little from him to stare into his face with wide, frightened eyes. ‘You – you know?’

‘Aye, love, I do. I recognize the signs. I’ve seen you rushing out to the privy every morning and hardly able to stand at the stove to cook bacon and eggs for my breakfast.’ He
smiled sorrowfully. ‘Just like your poor mam was when she was carrying
you.’

‘Oh Dad. I’m so sorry. I wouldn’t have – but he said he loved me – said we were to be married in the spring.’

‘I know, I know. And you loved him.’

‘What would Mam have said? She’d have been so ashamed of me.’

Bob’s arms tightened round her as he gave a soft chuckle. ‘No, she wouldn’t, because we had what they call a shotgun wedding. Your mam was three months gone with you
by the
time we got married.’

‘And then – and then you lost her when she had me.’

‘Aye, I did, but she gave me you and she’d’ve wanted me to stand by you and take care of you just as she would have done if she’d still been here.’

‘Oh Dad!’ Amy hugged her father and they clung together, gaining strength from each other.

‘It’ll be all right, Amy love, I promise. We’ll tell Josh
and—’

Amy pulled back a little and looked up into her father’s face. Her tears tore at his heart. ‘Please, Dad, I don’t want Josh to know.’

‘Why ever not? He’s a good lad. I’m sure he’d come back at once if he knew, ne’er mind what his mother said.’

‘But that’s just what I
don’t
want. If he comes back, it’s got to be because he wants to and not out of a sense of duty.’

For a moment,
Bob struggled to agree but then he understood. For Amy, a ‘shotgun wedding’ was not the best way to start married life. She would never know, deep down, if Josh had
really wanted to marry her or whether it had been because he’d felt obliged to do so.

Bob’s voice was unsteady as he said, ‘I think you’re wrong, love, but I do see why you’re saying it.’ He kissed her forehead and murmured,
‘You’re a
brave lass and, if Josh doesn’t come back, we’ll look after the little one together.’

Touched by her gentle father’s understanding, Amy’s tears flowed even faster.

Sunday afternoon was cold, but fine and bright. After attending the nearest church that morning with her mother and brother and then helping Martha with the household chores,
Emily slipped out of the house and
found her way to the Town Hall where she stood on the corner beneath the clock to wait for Trip. Back in the court, from her bedroom window, Lizzie had watched
her go. She was supposed to be meeting her workmates, but she’d hung back, hoping to catch sight of Josh. After half an hour of watching for him, Lizzie put on her best coat and hat and left
her home, walking the few paces to their neighbour’s
door. She knocked quietly, just in case the old man was asleep. Josh’s father wasn’t really that old, she supposed – no
older than her own mother – but because of his dreadful injuries, he certainly looked it.

After a few moments, the door opened slowly and Josh stood there. ‘Oh hello, Lizzie. Emily’s not here – she’s gone out for . . . for a walk.’

‘I know.’ Lizzie winked conspiratorially.
‘And I know where she’s gone.’

Josh glanced nervously over his shoulder, then turned back towards her, grinned and put his finger to his lips.

Lizzie giggled. ‘I know that, an’ all. Not a word, I promise.’ Lizzie paused and then, with her head on one side, she said, ‘I’ve been thinking. It’s a long
walk to Trippets’ and you won’t want to waste money on tram fares, so I think you’ll need
a bicycle to get to Creswick Street. I’ll ask our Mick, if you like.’

‘It’s good of you Lizzie, but I don’t think I could afford—’

Lizzie waved her hand. ‘Don’t worry about that. You can pay Mick over several weeks. He won’t mind – if
I
ask him.’

‘What’s he do, then?’

‘Oh, this and that,’ Lizzie said airily. ‘Me and Mam don’t rightly know. Some sort of wheeling and dealing, we
reckon. Mick’ll never tell us, but he’s a good
bloke to know if you want owt. He seems to know a lot of people and they all must like him, ’cos he can get them to do anything he wants. That’s settled, then, I’ll ask him. Now,
I just wondered, if you’ve nothing to do, whether you’d like a walk out. I could show you a bit of the city.’

For a brief moment, Josh hesitated and Lizzie guessed
he was thinking about this girl he had back in Ashford, but then, as if making up his mind, he smiled and said, ‘Aye, why not?
Dad’s lying on his bed and Mam’s having a nap in front of the fire, so I’ve nowt to do.’

Lizzie threw back her head as she laughed, an infectious, tinkling sound. Then in a broad Sheffield accent she said, ‘Eeh, tha’s even beginnin’ to talk like us.’

Josh stepped
back a little and pulled his cap from the hook on the back of the door. ‘Right, I’m ready.’

As they crossed the courtyard they saw Billy Nicholson coming towards them.

‘Oh no,’ Lizzie breathed. ‘I hope he’s not going to tag along with us. He’s forever chasing after me.’

But Josh smiled and held out his hand. ‘Hello. I’m Josh. We haven’t met before, but you know my sister, Emily.’

Billy nodded curtly, but did not take the proffered hand. Instead, his gaze went to Lizzie’s face and then his glance dropped to where she had tucked her hand, with a possessive gesture,
through Josh’s arm. ‘You going out, Lizzie?’

‘I’m just going to show Josh the sights. He’s new here. He doesn’t know the city.’ She giggled. ‘I don’t want him to get lost.’

For a brief moment, a bleak
look crossed Billy’s face, but then he forced a laugh and said, ‘I’d’ve thought your Mick would have been the best person to show him the
city. He certainly knows it.’

Lizzie frowned. ‘I wouldn’t cross our Mick, if I was you, Billy –’ she paused and added softly – ‘or me.’

‘Ooo, I’m quaking in me boots.’ He nodded towards Josh. ‘Well, good luck, mate. You’re gonner need it, getting yourself
involved with that family.’

Then he turned away back towards his own home, but Josh noticed the stoop of his shoulders and knew instinctively that he wished him anything but ‘good luck’ where Lizzie was
concerned.

As they walked out into the street, Josh said, ‘Is there anything between you and Billy?’

‘Heavens, no! The very idea. Now, come on, let me show you this wonderful city
of ours. Where would you like to go?’

BOOK: The Buffer Girls
2.89Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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