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Authors: Margaret Dickinson

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Still Josh was reluctant. ‘What will Mam say?’

‘Oh plenty, I’ve no doubt, but we’ll have to face it sooner or later, so best get it over with.’

‘Wait a minute,’ Lizzie said. ‘Let’s go back in and have a word with the missus. She’s not left yet and she might be able
to help.’

Josh and Emily turned towards her.

‘How?’

‘What can she do?’

In the light from the street lamp, they saw Lizzie tap the side of her nose and smile smugly. ‘There’re things I know that not many others do. Oh, I can keep my mouth shut when it
suits me.’ She giggled. ‘Though you wouldn’t think so.’ She leaned a little closer and lowered her voice. ‘Bess Dugdale and Mr
Crossland are – well, you know
– friendly, shall we say.’

Mr Crossland was the foreman at Waterfall’s.


Are
they?’

Lizzie nodded confidently. ‘Oh yes. Haven’t you noticed him visiting every Saturday night when Billy goes out with his friends?’

‘You mean – Billy doesn’t know?’

‘Oh, I think he knows all right, but I expect his mam and Mr Crossland want a bit of time to themselves.’
She winked and chuckled, then, all seriousness again, she linked her arms
through both Josh’s and Emily’s and said determinedly, ‘Come on. No time like the present.’

By the time the three of them walked home, Josh was feeling a little more hopeful. He hadn’t exactly got himself another job – or rather, Lizzie hadn’t quite
managed to secure it for him yet – but they were all optimistic.
Mrs Nicholson had promised to talk to Mr Crossland on their behalf. ‘Though he’ll want to know how you came to
lose the job at Trippets’,’ Ruth had said. ‘But he knows George Bayes. Maybe he’ll have a word with him and then we’ll see, eh?’ She’d looked Josh up and
down as if assessing him for herself. Then she’d smiled. ‘I’ll see what I can do. If you’re anywhere as willing and able as your sister,
then you’d do for me.’
She’d leaned closer to Josh and in a loud whisper had said, ‘But don’t tell her I said so.’ Then she’d patted the young man on the shoulder and said, ‘You run
along home and leave it with me.’

Outside their home, Josh had hesitated. ‘Emily – you tell Mam. I – I just daren’t.’

Emily took his hand and Lizzie gave him a gentle push. ‘I’ll come in as well. Maybe
she won’t fly off the handle if I’m there too.’

But Martha Ryan’s anger was not tempered by their neighbour’s presence. When the three of them entered, closed the door quickly against the cold night air but still stood ranged in
front of it, Martha looked up sharply from the hearth, sensing at once that something was amiss. She straightened up slowly and glanced from one to the other, her
gaze coming at last to rest on
Josh. ‘What is it? What’s happened?’

Behind her, in his chair, Emily noticed that Walter began to shake as if fearing trouble. Still, Josh made no move to enlighten his mother. With a slight sigh, Emily said, ‘Mam, Josh has
– has been sacked. It was—’


What?
’ Martha shrieked. She moved with a suddenness that startled them all and slapped Josh soundly
across the face. At once Emily grasped her mother’s arm and pulled
her away and Lizzie stepped protectively in front of Josh.

‘You stupid fool! What have you done? Haven’t we uprooted ourselves, dragged your poor father here, all for your sake, just so that you can better yourself? And now you’ve
thrown it back in our faces! Oh, I see it all,’ Martha sneered. ‘You thought if you got yourself
sacked, we’d go back to Ashford – back to that little trollop, Amy Clark.
Well, you can think again, m’lad. We’re here and we’re staying here, so you’d best get yourself out first thing in the morning and find another job.’

Josh stood with his shoulders hunched, his eyes downcast, but still he said nothing.

‘It wasn’t his fault, Mam,’ Emily began. ‘Mr Trippet visited the factory today
and when he saw Josh, he went straight to him and told him he was sacked.’

For a brief moment, Martha was unable to hide the expression on her face, but it was a look that mystified Emily and it was gone in an instant. Had she imagined it or, with the mention of Arthur
Trippet’s name, did her mother now understand why Josh had been dismissed?

‘We’ve already spoken to Mrs Nicholson, Mrs
Ryan,’ Lizzie said calmly, ‘to see if there are any jobs going at our place. She’s going to speak to Mr Crossland on
Josh’s behalf.’

‘That’s good of you, Lizzie,’ Martha said stiffly. ‘We’ll have to wait and see, but – thank you.’

She turned away and went back to the hob where a stew bubbled. ‘You’d better sit down and get your tea – the pair of you.’

Lizzie smiled up at Josh, patted
his arm and whispered, ‘Good luck.’

Little was said as they ate. Emily, as usual, sat with her father and tried to feed him but the stew trickled down his chin.

‘Don’t waste it. If he can’t eat it, let him be.’

‘But he ought to eat something, Mam. He’s thin enough as it is.’ Emily smiled encouragement at her father, but his whole body only shook even more.

Martha glanced at her
husband and then looked away again. Little conversation passed between the family that evening and soon after they had eaten, Josh helped his father up the stairs to the
bedroom.

‘Emily,’ he said, as he went back downstairs, ‘that bedroom is freezing. Can’t we light a fire up there for him?’

‘I don’t think there’s much coal left. Mam says it must be kept for the range and the copper
and I suppose she’s right. If we run out completely, there’ll be
nothing left to cook or wash with.’

Josh sighed heavily and made a futile gesture with his hand.

‘You go to bed,’ Emily said, trying to sound soothing and reassuring at the same time. ‘You’re best out of Mam’s way tonight.’

‘You’re right. I’ll go up whilst she’s still busy with Dad.’

Emily shook her head sadly as
Josh crept quietly up to the attic.

‘Where is he?’ was Martha’s first question when she came down.

‘Gone to bed. He’s upset.’

‘Upset? I should think he is. After all I’ve done . . .’ She glared at Emily. ‘This is all your fault, you know.’

Emily looked up swiftly. ‘Mine? How come?’

‘You’ve taken up with Thomas Trippet again, haven’t you?’

‘I – I don’t understand. What’s
that got to do with Josh?’

Martha moved closer and almost spat in her face. ‘Everything.’

‘But – but it was Trip who got him the job in the first place. Sort of.’

‘Exactly!’

Her mother was talking in riddles. Emily frowned. ‘I don’t understand.’

Martha took a deep breath. ‘When I told you that Mr Arthur Trippet had promised to help find Josh a job – that he hadn’t any positions
in his own factory, but that he’d
recommend Josh to his colleagues, well –’ she hesitated briefly before saying in a rush – ‘that wasn’t the truth.’

Emily gasped and her eyes widened. She was shocked. She’d never known her mother to lie deliberately. They’d always been in such trouble as children if they’d told even the
tiniest fib.

‘When I asked him to help,’ Martha went on, ‘he sent
me off with a flea in my ear. Said that we’d be better staying in the village. That it’d be better for your
father and that Josh had a nice little cottage industry going.’

Boldly – perhaps rashly – Emily murmured, ‘I’d agree with him there.’

Martha flashed a resentful look at her. ‘Oh yes, you’d see him trapped in a
little
job, wouldn’t you, and tied to that little trollop who lived
next door to
us?’

‘He could do worse,’ Emily muttered, her mind flitting to Lizzie. It seemed Martha was also thinking of Lizzie, but in a very different vein as she said, ‘He’d do better
to marry Lizzie. I can see she likes him. And she’d be a better helpmate to him than ever Amy Clark would be.’

For once, Emily found it impossible to disagree. Lizzie had already been so helpful and
they were depending on her yet again to help Josh secure other employment. Now, Emily’s thoughts
turned back to her mother’s accusation. ‘I still don’t understand why I’m to blame.’

‘Because I have the shrewd suspicion that old man Trippet doesn’t want his precious son consorting with the likes of you. The Ryans aren’t good enough for the son of a wealthy
cutlery manufacturer. But just
you wait and see. This is just a little set-back, that’s all. One day, Josh will be someone in this city and then the fellers will be queuing at the door to
marry his sister.’

Emily’s eyes blazed. ‘Well, if you think I’m going to hang around
that
long, Mam, you’ve another think coming. I’ll be an old maid by then. Besides,
I’ll choose my own husband, thank you very much.’

Martha raised
her hand as if to strike her daughter, but Emily faced her squarely and said softly, ‘Don’t you dare, Mam, or I’m leaving.’

Martha’s hand fell and she turned away. Emily was a different kettle of fish to deal with compared to Josh. Josh would always do what his mother told him even, she believed, after he was
of age, but Martha knew that she could no longer control her daughter; if she ever
had been able to, she reminded herself ruefully.

No more was said that night and the following morning there was a strained silence in the household. As usual, a light tap came at their door when it was time for Emily to set out for work;
Lizzie was calling for her.

Once safely out of the court, Lizzie asked, ‘How’re things?’

‘How d’you think?’ Emily said bitterly and then added
hastily, ‘Oh sorry, that sounded so rude.’

Lizzie laughed. ‘No matter. You’re right – I can guess. Let’s just hope the missus can work her magic.’

Ruth Nicholson said nothing as the girls hurried to start the day’s work and although Emily longed to ask the woman, she bit her tongue. It wouldn’t do to harry her.

At dinner time the machines stopped, the girls ate their food and then
set off into town.

‘I don’t feel like coming today,’ Emily said. ‘I’ll – I’ll just wait here and . . .’

‘Then I’ll stay too,’ Lizzie said promptly. She shuddered dramatically. ‘I don’t fancy a walk into town in this weather. It’s too cold. Besides,’ she
added, leaning towards Emily to whisper, ‘I’m as anxious as you are to hear what the missus has to say. I hope she’s spoken to Mr Crossland.
The suspense is killing me.’

It was almost the end of their dinner break and the other girls were due back at any moment when Ruth came into the workshop. Two pairs of eyes turned expectantly in her direction and the woman
smiled. ‘Tell your brother to come and see Mr Crossland in the morning. He has a job for him, but he wants to speak to George Bayes first to get the truth behind his dismissal.
It’s not
that we don’t believe you, mind,’ she added hurriedly. Ruth Nicholson had taken a liking to the newcomers in the court and especially to Emily, who was a good worker. The girl never
shied away from, or complained about, the lowliest of tasks and Ruth had been more than happy to start her on the buffing when she knew there was a little lass ready to take Emily’s place as
their
errand girl.

‘Oh missus, thank you – thank you.’ Emily clasped her hands together and there were tears in her eyes. ‘He won’t disappoint you, I promise.’

Ruth flapped her hand, dismissing the effusive thanks, but she was smiling.

When they returned home that evening, the two girls had some better news to impart.

‘I’ll come in with you,’ Lizzie said. ‘Poor Josh. I bet he’s had a
rough day.’

Emily could hardly refuse, but she sighed inwardly. They were getting deeper and deeper into Lizzie’s debt and it worried her. Even though they were miles apart now in another county, she
still considered Amy her best friend. She knew the young girl would be yearning for news of the family and especially of Josh. She hoped her brother had written to her regularly and she promised
herself she would write to their friend as soon as she could.

As they entered, they saw Walter sitting in his chair and Martha bending to take a meat pie out of the oven in the range. It looked, at first sight, like any close-knit family, but then Emily
saw that Josh was sitting at the table, his head in his hands. He looked up and her heart twisted to see the defeated, hopeless look in
his eyes.

‘Good news,’ Emily said at once. ‘Well, hopeful, anyway.’

‘The missus has spoken to Mr Crossland,’ Lizzie said, unable to keep quiet and let Emily explain. She was anxious to look good in Josh’s eyes. And in Martha’s. She sensed
she had an ally in the young man’s mother. ‘You’re to go to see him in the morning.’

‘But he’s going to speak to Mr Bayes first. He wants to know
what happened at Trippets’.’

‘Oh, I see,’ Martha said flatly and then added bitterly, ‘then I don’t hold out much hope. They’re not going to say anything against their lord and master, now, are
they?’

‘Mr Bayes seems a good bloke. And Trip might put in a good word for me . . .’ Josh began, but stopped, biting his lip.

Martha shot an accusing glance at Emily, but said nothing.

‘I’ll be going, then,’ Lizzie said. ‘See you tomorrow.’

The door opened once again. Beside the fire, Walter shivered.

‘I wish folks’d stop running in and out,’ Martha muttered. ‘It’s hard enough to keep this place warm as it is without someone opening the door every five
minutes.’

Before she could hold back the words, Emily said, ‘Then we shouldn’t have come here.’ And even though
her heart ached at the thought of not being able to see Trip every Sunday,
as she was able to do now, she added heatedly, ‘We’d all have been far better off staying back home in Ashford.’

She felt torn; she wanted the best for her father and she was sure that Josh would be happier making his candles and planning his future with Amy, yet she counted the hours to the following
Sunday when
she could meet Trip. On fine days they walked in the park or around the city centre. If it rained, they found shelter in the city, reminiscing and tentatively planning what the future
might hold. They held hands as they walked and he put his arm around her waist when they crossed a road, but still he did not tell her he loved her.

BOOK: The Buffer Girls
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