As the girls turned off their machines that evening and were about to leave for home, they heard the sound of a child’s voice echoing up the stairs from the grinders’ workshop below. Nell’s eyes widened with fear as she glanced at Emily.
‘That’s Lucy,’ she whispered and, galvanized into action, she rushed towards the stairs. ‘Lucy! What’s the matter? What’s happened? What are you doing here?’
Emily and the others followed her swiftly in time to see Nell reach the foot of the stairs and her young daughter rush towards her. She buried her face against her mother’s skirt, not caring that she would be covered in the grime from Nell’s working day.
‘What is it? What’s happened, luv? Is it Granny?’
‘It’s the girls at school. They locked me in the toilet at playtime and at dinner time and they wouldn’t let me out.’
Nell squatted down in front of her and grasped the girl’s shoulders. ‘Have you been home to Granny? Does she know you’ve come here?’
With tears running down her face, Lucy shook her head. ‘I came to find you, Mam.’
‘You should have gone home first, Lucy, luv.’ Nell’s voice was firm but kind. She could see her daughter was already distressed, but she had to instil obedience in her. ‘Granny will be so worried that you’re this late home from school.’ She stood up and held out her hand. ‘Come along, we must go straight home and then we’ll sort those girls out.’ Now a note of anger crept into her tone. No one, but no one, laid a finger on her girl.
‘Is there anything we can do to help?’ Emily asked.
Nell gave them all a quick smile. ‘No, thanks, Emily. I’ll sort it out.’ She winked at her friends and added softly, ‘Or her dad will.’
‘Oo-er,’ Flo said, making light of the matter, now that they could all see that Lucy was safe. ‘I wouldn’t be in their shoes when Steve Henderson goes knocking on a few doors.’
‘I shan’t involve him unless I have to,’ Nell said. ‘I think a quiet word from me will be enough.’
More than enough, I would think, Emily thought with amusement. Nell was a staunch friend, but even Emily admitted that she wouldn’t like to get on Nell’s ‘wrong side’.
Outside their place of work in Rockingham Street, the girls separated and went their different ways home. Ida and Flo set off together, leaving Lizzie to walk to the court off Garden Street, while Emily, Nell and Lucy, who lived a distance away but only a few streets apart from each other, hurried to catch a tram or a bus that would take them nearer home.
Emily now lived in Carr Road. The house was in the centre of a terrace near the top of the road, two doors away from the pub on the corner. It had a living kitchen, a front parlour, three bedrooms and a small backyard. Having picked up some pork chops from the butcher on South Road, as soon as she arrived home, Emily removed her dirty working clothes and had a good wash, then began preparing the evening meal.
‘I have to tell you something, Trip,’ were Emily’s first words to her husband, Thomas, when he arrived home, ‘but before I do, I want you to promise that you won’t do anything.’
Emily Ryan and Thomas Trippet – nicknamed Trip – had been friends from childhood and Emily had been in love with him forever. They had grown up together, roaming the hills and dales around Ashford-in-the-Water in Derbyshire where they’d lived. There’d been the four of them: Emily, her brother Josh, Trip, and Josh’s childhood sweetheart, Amy Clark. Arthur Trippet had done his best to separate his son from what he considered ‘unsuitable company’ for his only child, who would one day inherit not only the biggest house in Ashford, but also his cutlery manufacturing business in Sheffield. Sending Trip to boarding school hadn’t made any difference; the foursome still met in the school holidays. So then Arthur had decreed that Trip should ‘learn the business from the bottom up’ and had sent him to live and work in the city. But when the Ryan family moved there, Trip and Emily began walking out together. Incensed by the news, Arthur had uttered an ultimatum: give Emily up or be disowned. Trip had stood up to his father and, with his mother’s help, had married Emily. It could have meant the loss of his inheritance, but never for one moment did Trip regret his decision. Emily was everything to him. However, following his father’s serious stroke, Trip was back working at the factory alongside his half-brother, Richard, Arthur’s illegitimate son by his mistress Belle Beauman. It was an arrangement that suited them all, even though it was somewhat unusual.
Now, Trip put his hands on his wife’s shoulders and kissed her forehead. ‘Ah, so you’ve heard too, have you? Mick’s back.’
Emily looked up at him. ‘How did you know?’
Trip laughed. ‘The cutlers’ grapevine has been hard at work. But I do have some good news.’
‘Thank goodness for that,’ Emily murmured.
‘George Bayes is coming back to work.’
‘Is he? That is good news.’
‘He came to see me this morning. Since his wife died last year, he hasn’t known what to do with himself. I thought he was going down on his knees at one point, but there was no need. I’m only too pleased to have him back. And so’s Richard.’
George Bayes had worked at Trippets’ factory for a long time and had been foreman there for several years, but about two years earlier he had given up his work to nurse his terminally ill wife.
‘How old is Mr Bayes now?’
‘A sprightly forty-nine, so he tells me.’ A puzzled frown crossed Trip’s forehead.
‘What is it?’ Emily, attune to his every look, asked softly. ‘Are you worried about Mick and – and what he might do?’
Trip pulled a face. ‘I suppose so. We’d better all be on our guard, but it was something George said that set me wondering.’
Emily waited patiently as they sat down to their evening meal together. Trip picked up his knife and fork, but then hesitated, staring into the distance as if he was seeing not the food in front of him, but something quite different.
‘He asked how my father was and I told him there was no change, but it was when he enquired after my mother that there was this look that came into his face. In fact, his whole demeanour changed.’
‘How d’you mean?’ When he didn’t answer at once, Emily said, ‘Don’t let your meal go cold, Trip.’
Trip began to eat slowly, his mind obviously still elsewhere. Between mouthfuls, he said, ‘His enquiry about Father was – well, just the sort of thing you’d expect him to ask. He’s worked for the family firm for a long time and whilst I suspect he had disagreements with my father from time to time, I think he respected him. But it was when he asked about Mother that his genuine concern showed.’
‘Your mother’s a lovely woman. Everyone who meets her likes her, loves her even.’
Slowly, Trip turned to face her. ‘That’s it, Emily. You’ve hit the nail on the head.’
‘I don’t understand.’
‘When George Bayes asked about her he didn’t say “How’s your mother?” or even “How’s Mrs Trippet?”’
Emily frowned. ‘I still don’t see—’
‘His words were “How’s Constance?” He used her Christian name.’
Emily gasped in surprise and stared at Trip, her own meal forgotten too now. ‘You mean – you think he’s in love with your mother?’
‘I don’t know,’ Trip said slowly, but then he grinned. ‘Though I intend to find out. This calls for an excursion to Ashford on Sunday and when I casually bring into the conversation that George is coming back to work, I’ll just watch Mother’s face.’
Emily chuckled. ‘Your mother won’t give anything away, I can tell you that now.’
‘We’ll see, we’ll see,’ he murmured as, suddenly realizing he was quite hungry, he attacked his food with a great deal more interest. ‘And besides,’ he added, ‘we really should warn Josh about Mick.’