Free The Buffer Girls by Margaret Dickinson

some bread an’ milk, else my ol’ man won’t have owt for his snap tin tomorrow.’
    ‘Emily, fetch us another pan of work, luv.’
    ‘Emily, you haven’t dished the work out yet. We don’t want the wheels stoppin’. Look sharp.’ This was from the missus, whose orders Emily had the sense to obey
first.
    ‘Have you gotthe dinners on, lass? Me belly thinks me throat’s been cut.’
    ‘I’m ’aving fish an’ chips today. Emily, can you fetch them for us?’
    ‘I can’t afford them this week. Bread an’ dripping’ll have to do me.’
    ‘Emily, see what’s on at the Empire this weekend while you’re out, luv. I fancy a night out at the theatre. You up for that, Nell?’
    But Nell would always shake her head and carry onworking. It soon became clear to Emily that Nell was the hardest-working buffer girl of them all and the best at the job too. She loved to watch
her working and see the shining spoons and forks emerging under her skilful hands; hands that bore the scars of cuts and burns from hot resin, an everyday danger for a buffer girl. Apart from
walking into town at dinner time and meeting the other girlson a Sunday afternoon, Nell didn’t go out very much. But still she sang every day at her wheel along with the other buffer girls.
They sang all the latest music-hall songs: ‘Burlington Bertie from Bow’, ‘Down at the Old Bull and Bush’, ‘My Old Man Said Follow the Van’. Nell’s
favourite was always ‘Hello, Hello, Who’s Your Lady Friend?’. Emily noticed that they avoided singing any of the songslike ‘Oh! It’s a Lovely War’ and
‘It’s a Long Way to Tipperary’
–
anything that might remind them of the recent war that was still so painful for all of them. Nearly everyone in the buffing shop
had a relative or friend who had joined the Sheffield City Battalion – the local pals’ battalion – and many, mown down in the battle for the village of Serre on the Somme, had not
come back.
    Emily couldn’t remember ever having felt so weary in the whole of her young life. Working beside Josh at the candle making was nothing compared to this. By the time the hooter sounded for
the end of the day, every bone in her body seemed to ache and her eyes stung with the gritty sand flying about the workshop and with tiredness too.
    By the fourth day, Emily had all her chores under controland it earned her a smile and a nod from Ruth Nicholson.
    ‘You’re doing ever so well,’ Lizzie told her as they walked home. ‘The missus doesn’t give praise very often.’
    As if to prove Lizzie’s point, the next morning Ruth said, ‘I’ll show you how to cut out the paper aprons for the girls. We use the brown paper that’s used for wrapping
the finished cutlery in, but, failing that, we usenewspaper. The girls bring in whatever they can at the beginning of the week.’
    Emily nodded but said nothing. The Ryans could no longer afford the luxury of buying a daily newspaper to read although Emily promised herself that the very day she started to earn a decent
wage, she would take one home for her father on payday. She knew he missed sitting at the table and reading the latest news.Sometimes, it was the only thing that seemed to stop his constant
shaking. For the next two hours Ruth showed her how to lay out the paper on a table and cut out the shape of an apron. These were then stacked neatly for the girls to help themselves to whenever
they needed one.
    ‘I’ll never remember it all, Lizzie,’ Emily confided to her new-found friend one day as they walked home afterwork. ‘There’s so much to
do.’
    ‘The main thing is to keep the girls supplied with what they need. If you slow down their work, they’ll get cross. It’s money lost to them. Anything else can wait, though they
do like their dinner ready on time.’
    Emily groaned. ‘Oh don’t.’
    ‘We’ll all help you. Nell’s sort of head buffer girl; she’ll keep you on your toes. It’s not an official title–