Read The Buffer Girls Online

Authors: Margaret Dickinson

The Buffer Girls (6 page)

‘Now, both of you, help me get your dad up them stairs. It’s not going to be easy. They’re narrower than the ones we had at home.’

It was a slip of the tongue, of course. Martha didn’t mean to refer to Ashford as home, but Emily and Josh exchanged a glance. It was most certainly what they still felt.

The following morning, Martha tried to catch Mrs Nicholson before she
left for work, but by the time she’d seen to Walter’s early morning needs, both the woman and
her son had gone and Bess and her daughter were nowhere to be seen either, though there was a steady tap-tapping and the noise of a grinding wheel coming from the tall building on the other side of
the court. They had yet to meet Bess’s son, Mick Dugdale.

‘I expect she’s at her work already,’
Martha muttered, put out because she couldn’t make a start on finding Josh a suitable job. ‘They’re early starters here
but I’d best not interrupt her, especially if she’s on piece work.’

‘I’ll go shopping, Mam. What do you need?’ Emily was eager to get out into the city streets to find her bearings and, if she could, to learn where Trippets’ factory was.
She meant to find Trip as soon
as possible. It was weeks since he’d last been home to Ashford.

‘Go careful with the money, Emily. We’ve got to make it last. Even if Josh finds a job straightaway, he won’t get any pay for a week or two. And you’d better start
looking, an’ all,’ Martha added, almost as an afterthought.

Armed with a shopping basket, Emily left the court and stepped into the street beyond. The September
sun struggled to penetrate the blanket of smoke that hung over the city but at least it was
fine. Emily straightened her shoulders and set off down the street, swinging her basket and humming a tune beneath her breath.

‘Good morning,’ she greeted one or two women, who were donkey-stoning their steps or washing their windowsills. One or two spoke and others merely smiled and nodded. They
seem
friendly enough, Emily thought. Garden Street was a mixture of houses and small businesses. There were several shops; a tripe dealer, a grocer and a coal merchant – even a second-hand clothes
shop. That might be useful, Emily thought wryly, if times get really tough. There was probably everything the family needed here in their own street and the neighbouring roads, but Emily was keen
to
see more of the city. She walked on, intrigued by the premises that she guessed were little mesters’ workshops. The men were sitting at their workbenches in front of the windows – to
make the most of the natural light, Emily supposed. She paused now and again to watch one man making a penknife and another producing a delicate medical instrument.

The largest building in the street was called
Croft Settlement Hall, some sort of men’s club, Emily guessed, and she thought how sad it was that her father was not now well enough to join.
He would miss the camaraderie of male company that he’d had in Ashford. There had always been someone calling in to see him when he’d been the village chandler and even more so after
he’d returned from the war. No one had shied away from seeing him
in his pitiful state and they all showed their true friendship by continuing to visit. Bob Clark had been a faithful visitor
almost every night after he’d finished his work. He’d sit and chat to Walter, just as if they were having a proper conversation. It didn’t bother Bob – though it saddened him
– that the poor man could no longer answer him. He’d come with all the village news and tell Walter
funny little anecdotes he’d heard or that had happened to him.

At the end of the street, Emily paused at a junction with a wider road, not sure now which way to go. An elderly woman was coming towards her, carrying two heavy shopping bags.

‘Excuse me,’ Emily ventured. ‘I’m new here. Please, can you tell me the way to the centre of town?’

The woman stopped, set her bags down on the
pavement with obvious relief and straightened her back, sighing a little as she did so. ‘Go that way,’ she said, pointing to the right,
‘and then take the second left into Rockingham Street and just keep going to the end. Turn left there and you’ll see where you want to be, but if you’re still not sure, duck, then
ask again.’

‘Thank you.’ Emily paused a moment and on impulse said, ‘Do
you live far from here? I can help you home with your bags, if you like.’

The woman looked at her for a long moment and then smiled weakly. But her smile did not reach her eyes, which were dull and lifeless. ‘That’s very thoughtful of you, lass. I live
just along here, but I’m on my way to my daughter’s in Court Eight.’

Emily laughed. ‘Why, that’s where we’ve come to live. Come on, I’ll
go back with you. You carry my empty basket and I’ll take both your bags. My,’ she added
as she picked them up, ‘they are heavy. You shouldn’t be carrying these.’

‘I’ve got to help our Rosa as best I can. She’s been left with two little kiddies.’

‘Oh, I think I saw her yesterday when we moved in.’ Emily hesitated before asking tentatively, ‘The war, was it?’

‘Aye.’ There was a wealth
of sadness in the woman’s tone. ‘Rosa’s me daughter-in-law really. It was – it was my son we lost. My only child. Ronald.’

‘I’m so sorry,’ Emily said. She bit her lip to stop herself from blurting out about her father. At least he had come back to them even though he was a broken shell of a man.
But no doubt this poor woman would think the Ryans were lucky in comparison.

‘He went in
’sixteen just after Violet – that’s the eldest – was born. He was on the Somme and lucky not to have been killed then. He was wounded and sent home and
we all thought that was it – he was home for good. But no, he got better and back he went. And then –’ she paused and drew in a shuddering breath – ‘he didn’t
come back.’ Surprisingly, her tone was a little bitter as she added, ‘But he was home
long enough to leave his wife pregnant again.’ Then she smiled and her voice lightened.
‘Mind you, our Becky’s a little darlin’. We wouldn’t be without her now, but having an extra mouth to feed doesn’t make life any easier.’

They reached the court again and went straight to the house where Emily had seen the young woman with two children. The woman paused with her hand on the doorknob.
‘I’d better
introduce myself, since you’re going to be Rosa’s neighbours. I’m Clara Jacklin.’

‘I’m pleased to meet you, Mrs Jacklin, and I’m Emily Ryan. We’ve moved here for my brother to find work.’

Clara Jacklin nodded and opened the door, not, at the moment, curious to know any more about the Ryan family. ‘Rosa,’ she called, ‘you there, luv?’

Rosa turned from the sink, drying
her hands on a ragged piece of towelling. ‘Aw, Mam, you shouldn’t have struggled with all that. I could have gone later, if you’d’ve
minded the kids. Oh . . .’ She looked startled as Emily stepped through the door and set the two heavy bags on the table. Rosa was only young. She doesn’t look much older than me, Emily
thought, yet already she was a widow with two youngsters, who were playing on
the floor around her feet.

‘This is Emily. Her family have come to live across the yard.’

‘Yes, I saw you arrive yesterday. Thank you for helping Mam. It’s good of you.’

Emily shrugged off her thanks. ‘We’ve come from a small village where neighbours helped each other. I thought it might be different in the city –’ her smile widened
– ‘but I see it isn’t. Mrs Dugdale made us so welcome
yesterday. This –’ she gestured towards the bags of shopping – ‘was the least I could do. Anyway,
I’d best be going. Bye for now.’

She reached the door but then turned back. ‘Oh, do you know where the Trippets’ factory is?’

Rosa gave a little cry. Her hand flew to cover her mouth and tears sprang into her eyes.

Startled by the young woman’s reactions, Emily said, ‘Oh, my goodness.
I’m so sorry.’ She turned towards the older woman. ‘What have I said?’

Clara Jacklin smiled sorrowfully. ‘It was where my son – her husband – worked. That’s all. His loss is still so raw with us. Any sudden reminder . . .’

‘Of course. I’m so sorry. I’ll ask someone else.’

‘No, no, it’s all right,’ Rosa said recovering quickly. ‘It’s a big square building in Creswick Street
.
It’s a
fair way from here, though. Ron used
to cycle to work. Sometimes he went up to Solly Street and through all the little side streets, but your best way would be to go down ’street, turn left into Broad Lane and then . . .’
Rosa reeled off a number of street names that Emily couldn’t remember. She didn’t like to press the young woman any more, so she thanked them and left, glad to escape from the
gloom of
the small house. She’d felt suffocated in there. Obviously, Rosa wasn’t coping very well, but then she was young and only had the help of her elderly mother-in-law. Emily sighed. The
war had an awful lot to answer for.

Seven

The city centre was buzzing with people and Emily felt excitement rising within her. It was dinner time now and workers of all sorts had spilled into the streets for a quick
half-hour’s break. Three girls were walking arm in arm down the pavement. They were wearing calico aprons, once white but now covered with black smuts. Even their faces were smudged with
black, but they were
laughing and singing together and calling out to people they knew. As Emily stepped to the side to let them pass, she heard her name called.

‘Emily!’ One of the girls stopped, pulling the two others with her to a halt too. ‘It’s Emily from near me.’

‘Oh Lizzie,’ Emily smiled, ‘hello.’ She hadn’t recognized the girl dressed in her working clothes, with her hair covered with a scarf and
her face blackened.

‘She’s just moved into our court,’ Lizzie explained to her workmates. ‘She only arrived yesterday.’ She turned back to Emily. ‘I asked Mrs Nicholson about
work for you and she said to come and see her tomorrow morning. One girl’s just left to have a babby, so she’s short-handed.’

‘Phyllis’ll likely come back once she’s over her confinement,’ one of the other girls
said, but the third girl added, ‘No, she won’t, Nell. Her
husband’s said she’s to stay at home and look after the kiddie and have his tea on the table every night when he gets home.’

‘Lucky her!’

The three girls fell into gales of laughter and the one called Nell pulled a comical face. ‘Well, I wouldn’t let any man tell me what to do and that’s a fact.’

‘Mebbe that’s why you can’t
find a feller, our Nell. Still –’ Lizzie turned back to Emily. ‘You want to give it a go, Emily?’

‘Of course, and thanks for asking.’

‘Don’t mention it. And I’m going to see the foreman about a job for that handsome brother of yours. I’ll let you know tonight.’

‘Ooo, has she got a brother?’

‘Trust you to get in there first, Lizzie Dugdale,’ the third girl said. ‘Why don’t you give
the rest of us a chance?’

It was on the tip of Emily’s tongue to say that Josh already had a girlfriend waiting for him back in Ashford, but she bit back the remark. She needed Lizzie to help them find work and if
she were to let slip that Josh was already courting, the girl might lose interest and not be so helpful.

‘Come on, Ida,’ Nell said. ‘Time we were getting back.’

As the
girls hurried away with cheery shouts of ‘Ta-ra, luv’ and ‘See you tomorrow’, Emily turned away, thinking, I’ll have to watch myself; I’m getting as
devious as my mother! It was not a feeling she liked.

She delivered the shopping back home, helped Martha with household chores for a couple of hours and then said, ‘I’m going out for a walk. You coming, Josh?’

Her brother nodded eagerly.
Once outside and walking side by side up the street, he confided, ‘She’s been going on at me all morning to get out and find work, but I don’t know
where to start. And when you came in and said you’d got some sort of interview tomorrow with Mrs Nicholson, well, I thought she was going to burst a blood vessel that you’d found summat
before me.’

Emily grinned. ‘I’m not the important one,
Josh. That’s all it is. Come on,’ she added, linking her arm through his. ‘Let’s go and see if we can find
Trip.’

‘Trip? Do you know where to start?’

‘Oh yes,’ Emily said firmly, her eyes sparkling. ‘Creswick Street. That’s where his dad’s factory is, so that’s where Trip will be. Right, I know we set off
down our street and turn left but then I got a bit lost. Rosa said all the street
names so quickly, I couldn’t remember them all.’

After asking for directions twice, they found the big, square building and stood looking up at it in awe. ‘It’s huge!’ Josh said. ‘I’d no idea Mr Trippet was so
– so . . .’ He was lost for words.

‘Neither had I,’ Emily said in a small voice. ‘Makes you wonder why Trip was friendly with the likes of us when you see this, doesn’t it?’

‘Why he was
allowed
to be, you mean. Trip’s got no side to him, no hoity-toity ways but . . .’ He, too, fell silent for a moment before saying quietly, ‘Maybe
that’s why his dad sent him away to the city. To live, I mean, not just to work.’

‘Perhaps we ought not to—’

‘Oh yes, we ought,’ Josh said swiftly. ‘Now we’re here, we’re going to see him.’ He laughed wryly as the factory hooter
sounded and the workers came flooding
out, hurrying homewards. ‘If we can find him in that lot!’

Trip was one of the last to leave, as befitted the owner’s son. Emily’s heart lifted and she felt a flutter of excitement as she recognized the familiar figure wheeling a bicycle
through the gates.

‘Trip! Trip, over here.’

The young man in rough working clothes – dark trousers, worn
jacket and cloth cap – looked up in surprise. ‘Good Lord! Josh and – and oh, Emily.’ He hurried across
the road, leaned his bicycle against a lamp post and flung his arms wide as if to embrace them both. ‘How good it is to see you.’ He hugged Emily to him and then picked her up and swung
her round. When he set her down, he glanced at each of them in turn. ‘But whatever are you doing here?’

‘My mother’s brought the whole family to Sheffield. She wants Josh to find work in the cutlery business.’

‘And,’ Josh took up the story, ‘she spoke to your dad, who said he hadn’t any vacancies at the moment but that he’d put a good word in with some of the other
owners.’

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