The Buffer Girls Read Free Page A

the petals into the clay to make a picture. What shall we do this year?
A picture of the church, d’you think? We could use seeds to make the wallsand cones for the trees. We can use anything we like, Amy, as long as it grows naturally.’
    Sadly, since the Great War, the custom had ceased.
    ‘I reckon folks don’t feel like merrymaking just now,’ Grace had said wisely. ‘But I expect they’ll revive the tradition one day. I do hope so.’
    And with the end of the dreadful war that had left so many grieving, those idyllic childhood dayswere gone and now, since leaving boarding school, Trip had left the village to work in his
father’s factory in Sheffield. Arthur Trippet was a strict disciplinarian and had made his son start at the very bottom and work his way up in the business. There were no privileges of
position for young Thomas Trippet. He even had to stay in lodgings in the city rather than travel home each night in hisfather’s grand car.
    Trippets’ made penknives and pocketknives. Trip was first put to work as a grinder. It was a dirty job, sitting astride a seat as if he were riding a horse, with the wheel rotating away
from him in a trough of water. The cutlery industry had originally developed in Sheffield because of the waterpower available from the city’s fast-flowing rivers for the forges and grindingwheels. The tradition of the ‘little mester’, often working alone with treadle-operated machines, but sometimes employing one or two men and apprentices, has always been an important
part of the city’s famous trade. With the coming of steam power, which could operate a line-shaft system to drive several machines at once, large factories were built, although these were
still made up ofindividual workshops rented out. Trippets’ factory, built for one owner by Arthur’s grandfather in the nineteenth century, was a rare phenomenon at that time.
    ‘I’ll not have you treated any differently from my other employees,’ Arthur had told his son. ‘You’ll work your way up in the firm just like anyone else and, if you
prove yourself, one day you’ll take over, but only if you’ve earnedit, mind.’
    Now, hearing his name mentioned, Emily’s heart skipped a beat. She’d been in love with Trip from the age of twelve. It had been then that she’d realized he meant more to her
than the other village lads. As she’d grown up, they’d become even closer. Emily believed they were soulmates and would never be separated. But they had been, for Trip had been sent
away, first to boardingschool and then to Sheffield. Hearing her mother’s plans now, Emily felt torn. She didn’t want to leave Ashford and she dreaded the thought of what such a move
would do to her poor father – and to Josh. But if there was a chance of being nearer to Trip . . .
    Her wandering thoughts were brought back to what her mother was saying. ‘Never mind about Thomas just now. This is about you. Aboutyour future.’
    With a supreme effort, Josh kept a puzzled look on his face. ‘My future, Mam? What has Mr Trippet got to do with my future?’ Then his face brightened and Emily stifled her laughter.
Oh, this was better than going to the theatre in Buxton. What a star performer Josh was!
    ‘You mean,’ her brother was saying with feigned innocence, ‘he’s placed a huge order for candles forRiversdale House?’
    ‘No, I do
not
mean that, Josh,’ Martha snapped, her patience wearing thin. ‘Will you just listen to me? I’ve been asking Mr Trippet’s advice and he says
that although he has no vacancies in his factory at the moment, he has business colleagues in the city and he’s willing to put in a good word for you.’ As Josh opened his mouth to
speak, Martha rushed on. ‘He was theMaster Cutler of The Company of Cutlers in Hallamshire for a year, you know, a while back. I expect his name is listed on a brass plaque somewhere in
Cutlers’ Hall in the city. Now, wouldn’t that be something if one day