The Buffer Girls (22 page)

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Authors: Margaret Dickinson

BOOK: The Buffer Girls
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‘I’m Mick’s sister, Lizzie, and this is my friend, Emily. He’s been to see you on our behalf, I understand.’

‘Indeed, he has.’ There was an edge to the man’s tone that Emily couldn’t fail to notice, but even if Lizzie detected it, she said nothing but carried on blithely.
‘So, you have a workshop you’re
willing to rent to us?’

‘I have.’ His words were short, clipped almost. His welcome was not exactly warm or encouraging. ‘I’ll show you. I have two to rent.’ He jerked his thumb up towards
the ceiling. ‘A small one above here and one a bit larger in Rockingham Street. That one’s above a grinders’ workshop. Phil Latham rents that off me and I’ve no intention of
turning him out. He’s a good
tenant and has been there years. The property belonged to my brother, but he died two years ago and, as he’d no other family, it came to me.’

‘We’ll look at the larger one,’ Lizzie said promptly, but Emily put a warning hand on her arm. ‘Shouldn’t we know what the rents will be first? We might not be able
to afford the bigger one, Lizzie.’

Nathan glanced from one to the other, but his
scrutiny rested on Emily. ‘I’ve – er – agreed to let you have a month’s rent free. Just until you get on your
feet.’

Emily gave him a dazzling smile. ‘That’s very generous of you, Mr Hawke.’

He nodded, his eyes still holding her gaze. ‘Her brother was very – persuasive.’

Emily frowned and glanced at Lizzie, as if seeking an explanation, but the other girl refused to meet her eyes.
Lizzie cleared her throat and said, ‘Then if we may see the premises, Mr
Hawke?’

He gave a brief nod and turned back to his workbench. ‘Now, where did I put my glasses?’

The two girls were obliged to wait whilst he hunted around for his spectacles. When he was about to give up his search, he reached for his jacket from behind the door, put it on and then
discovered his glasses in one
of the pockets.

‘Right. I’ll just lock the door and we’ll be off.’

They walked the short distance along the street and round the corner where Nathan ushered them through a door into a grinders’ workshop. Three men were still working, their machines
filling the air with noise and dust. Nathan pointed to a wooden staircase set at the side. ‘Up there,’ he mouthed.

The three of them
climbed the rickety stairs and stepped into a large, first-floor room. There were some bits of old machinery, cobwebs of neglect strung between them, littering the room, though
there were no buffing machines that would be useful. The walls were blackened with the dust of years but Emily’s sharp eyes could see possibilities.

‘When my brother was still alive,’ Nathan said, ‘we ran both places
and the small workshop above my place was occupied by a little missus with a couple of workers, but she
retired three months ago and it’s been empty since then.’ He glanced at them. ‘You’re very courageous to be setting up your own business in these hard times.’

‘Needs must,’ Lizzie said. ‘Three of us have been given notice at Waterfall’s. We can but give it a try and Emily here has run
a little business in Ashford before she and
her family moved here at the end of last year.’

Nathan’s eyebrows rose a fraction as he turned to Emily. ‘Oh, so you haven’t been in Sheffield long, then?’

Emily shook her head.

‘Ah, I see,’ he said softly. Then, after a pause, asked, almost tentatively, Emily thought, ‘And how do you like the big, bad city?’

Emily blinked and met his
gaze. She’d thought he was joking, but his eyes were serious. ‘It’s – very different,’ she said carefully and then she answered honestly:
‘In some ways, it’s very exciting, but in others it can be rather – frightening.’

Nathan nodded slowly and then, for the first time, he smiled, but his smile was directed only at Emily.

‘We’ll take it,’ Lizzie said.

‘Hey, wait a minute, Lizzie,’
Emily laughed, ‘I know you’re keen, but we need to know what the overheads are likely to be.’

Lizzie blinked and stared at her. ‘What on earth are those?’

Emily heard Nathan stifle a chuckle, which he quickly changed into a cough as she said, ‘All the running costs of the business. Rent and things like that, before you even start paying
wages.’ She turned back to Nathan. ‘What rent will
you charge eventually?’

With a quick, sideways glance at Lizzie, he said, ‘Not much. I’ll be pleased to have the building fully occupied and used.’

‘And other outgoings?’

‘I can’t remember off the top of my head, but I’ll write you a list before you give me a final answer.’

‘There’s no need for that, we’ll take it,’ Lizzie said adamantly.

‘What about the smaller one, Lizzie?
Perhaps it would be better to start with that.’ Emily tried to be the voice of reason, of common sense, but Lizzie was carried away on a tide of
enthusiasm.

‘No, this one will do very well. Don’t be such a worrier, Emily. Mick will help us sort everything out.’

In a low voice that only Emily heard, Nathan murmured, ‘I’m sure he will.’

The three girls spent the following weekend cleaning
the dusty workshop that had been unused for at least two years and Mick commandeered two of his mates and Josh to deliver
three newish buffing machine and one of each of five different types of wheel needed for different processes. ‘Let me know if you want any more of anything, Lizzie.’

‘How much do we owe you, Mick?’ Emily asked.

Mick shrugged. ‘Call them a little present from me to
set you on your way.’

‘Oh, we couldn’t do that,’ Emily began and Nell agreed. ‘Let us pay you for them, Mick.’

But the young man was adamant. ‘Not this time, but if I bring you any more, then, yes, all right, I’ll charge you. Right, lads, we’re done here. You coming, Josh?’

It was an order rather than an invitation and Josh glanced at Emily sheepishly before meekly following Mick.

‘Our Mick’s a good friend to your Josh,’ Lizzie remarked, as the door banged behind the four young men.

‘Just so long as he doesn’t get him drunk again and let him lose all his money.’

‘I’ve told him not to let that happen again, and if there’s anyone Mick listens to, then it’s me. Now, come on, let’s see if these machines work.’

‘Where are we going to get work from?’ Nell asked.

Lizzie waved her hand dismissively. ‘Just wait and see. Mick’s got it all in hand.’

Emily and Nell exchanged a glance and Emily was sure Nell looked decidedly uncomfortable, but she shrugged and they turned their attention to the machines.

‘They’re wonderful,’ Nell declared after a few moments. ‘I just wish . . .’

‘What?’ Emily asked.

‘Oh nothing.’

‘Right,’ Lizzie said firmly
as they stopped the buffing machines, which had been connected up to a line shaft with pulleys and belts to run from the engine that operated the
grinders’ machines on the ground floor. ‘Now, we’ll go and see Mr Hawke again. Maybe he’ll have some news for us.’

‘What sort of news?’ Nell’s tone was sharp.

‘He’s going to give us some work to start us off and then he’s going to put the word
around for us. Oh you’ll see, we’ll soon be in business. Mr Hawke promised
Mick.’

‘Did he now?’ Nell murmured.

As they walked along the street, Emily touched Nell’s arm and they fell a little way behind Lizzie, who was striding ahead, eager to visit Nathan Hawke.

‘What is it, Nell, because I know there’s something troubling you? You can tell me. I won’t say anything.’

Nell sighed
deeply. ‘It’s nothing – I’m just being silly, I suppose. But – but I don’t want to get too deeply in Mick Dugdale’s debt.’

Emily frowned. ‘You mean he’s suddenly going to demand payment for the machines?’

‘No – no, not that.’

‘Then what?’

‘Oh, I can’t explain and I suppose it’ll be all right. After all, he’s probably doing it more for his sister than for us.’

Emily laughed
softly. ‘I’m sure you’re right about that. Let’s just be thankful she’s our friend and we’re benefiting too.’

Nell smiled weakly. ‘Yes, all right.’

‘Now, come on. Let’s go and see if Mr Hawke has some work for us.’

Moments later the three girls were standing in Nathan Hawke’s small workshop.

‘Actually, since Ruby retired –’ Nathan jerked his head to indicate the empty workshop
upstairs – ‘I’ve been farming my buffing work out all over the place
and, I have to say, it’s not been satisfactory. It’ll be good to have it done in the same place.’ He sounded surprised at himself for saying it. He gave a short laugh and then
added, ‘I like consistency and I’d like the same person always to do my work. Not too much to ask, is it – considering?’

‘Of course not,’ the three
girls chorused.

He glanced at each of them in turn. ‘Now, no false modesty, if you please, ladies. Who’s the best buffer?’

The girls laughed and both Lizzie and Emily pointed to Nell. ‘She is.’

‘Right, then.’ He nodded towards a wooden box on the bench. ‘There’s your first order. Can you do knives?’

Nell nodded. ‘I learned at my last place – before Waterfall’s.’

Lizzie beamed.
‘There’s nowt that Nell can’t do, Mr Hawke.’

For the first week, the three girls were busy with Nathan’s backlog of work. ‘These are a rather special order,’ he explained, ‘and I want them to look
like a set.’

When Emily carried the box of shining knives, forks and spoons back to him at the end of the week, Nathan exclaimed in delight, holding up each item and examining it carefully.
‘These are
perfect. Who did them? Was it Nell?’

‘Yes,’ Emily said.

‘Then I want Nell always to do my work. No disrespect to you and Lizzie, but—’

Emily laughed. ‘None taken. We told you ourselves that she was the best.’

‘And you were right,’ he murmured. ‘I shan’t mind recommending you to my friends and colleagues in the trade now.’ His voice dropped as he muttered, ‘Even
without
Mick Dugdale’s – er – encouragement.’

Delighted by the man’s obvious pleasure in their work, Emily failed to pick up on his words or the resentment in his tone. It wasn’t until a long time afterwards that she remembered
what he had said – and she understood.

Twenty-Four

‘So,’ Martha said, ‘you’re a businesswoman now, are you?’

‘Not exactly, Mam,’ Emily said, trying to ignore the sarcasm in her mother’s tone. ‘It’s just that three of us have set up a workshop to do buffing work. It’s
what a lot of women do in the city.’

‘Huh! And where’s the work coming from when they’re already laying folks off in the big firms?’

‘Mr Hawke gives
us all his and one or two other little mesters he knows are now sending their work to us. We’ve got more than enough to keep us going at the moment. And he says we
might pick up some work from the bigger firms too, if they get a time when the girls they employ can’t cope.’

‘Then why lay some off, might I ask?’

‘Because,’ Emily tried to explain patiently, ‘they haven’t got enough to keep
them going full-time, all the time, but there might be occasions when they could do with
extra help on a casual basis. A lot of the firms employ outworkers.’

Martha sniffed and turned away, but not before Emily had heard her say, ‘Just so long as Josh doesn’t get finished.’

The three girls had fallen into a routine of working. All three worked at the machines during the week, but on
Saturday mornings, whilst Nell and Lizzie delivered the finished cutlery and
collected new orders, Emily tackled the paperwork. It wasn’t so very different from what she’d done for their little chandler’s business in Ashford and soon she had everything
entered into a ledger and all the purchases and sales invoices neatly filed.

Nell was awestruck. ‘I don’t know how you do it, Emily,’ she
said one Friday evening, as they were about to finish work.

‘We all have different skills, Nell. You’re brilliant at your work. I’ll never be as good as you at buffing, if I live to be a hundred.’

Nell glanced over her shoulder, but Lizzie was still busy at her whirring machine and out of earshot. ‘You’re better than Lizzie and she’s been doing it a lot longer than
you.’

‘Nice of
you to say so.’

Nell was still hovering instead of hurrying off home as she usually did. Emily glanced up at her. ‘What’s up, Nell?’

‘I ran into Ida last night on my way home. She – she’s being laid off at the end of the week.’ Nell bit her lip. ‘I was just wondering . . .’

‘If we could take her on?’ Emily finished her sentence for her.

Nell nodded.

Emily was thoughtful for
a moment. ‘I think there’s enough work for another pair of hands, but we might need another buffing machine. She’s an “insider”,
isn’t she?’ An insider polished the insides of the bowls of spoons. ‘But I don’t like to keep taking advantage of Mick’s goodness.’

Nell laughed wryly. ‘His goodness, you say?’

‘Well, he has helped us, hasn’t he? I know he’s probably only done it for Lizzie
but – even so . . .’

Nell stared at her for a minute before glancing away. ‘Maybe Mr Hawke would let us have one of his old machines done up. That’d be cheaper than buying another. Then we wouldn’t
have to ask any more – er – favours of Mick.’

‘Why don’t you go and see Mr Hawke?’ Emily murmured, bending her head over her ledger as she totted up a column of figures.

‘Ah, Lizzie’s
stopping,’ Nell said, as they heard the other girl’s machine slowing down. ‘I’ll go and ask her what she thinks.’

Emily looked up. ‘I wouldn’t; perhaps you might ask Mr Hawke about a machine first, ’cos you know what she’ll say.’

Nell nodded, grimly. ‘Yes, I do. “Our Mick’ll get you one”.’

‘Exactly. Let’s make some discreet enquiries first and then, if we draw a blank, then – well,
maybe we’ll have to go cap in hand to Mick again.’

Nell stared at her for a moment before turning away and muttering something under her breath, but Emily, adding up the column for the second time, wasn’t listening. ‘You don’t
understand, do you?’ Nell murmured as she moved away. ‘You really don’t know what’s going on.’

Nell walked along the road and round the end of the street towards
Mr Hawke’s workshop. Her head was held high, her shoulders straight, but her trim figure was hidden
beneath the buff-brats she hadn’t bothered to take off. She carried a box of polished spoons she’d finished that morning. As she opened the door into his place of work, her heart sank
as she saw Mick Dugdale standing over Nathan as he sat at his work. At the sound of the door opening, they both
looked up.

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