The Quality Street Girls

‘I can’t let you run a study on my line,’ Diana said boldly. She was aware that Mary was doing the work of her sister and she had to make sure that they were not discovered at any cost. ‘You need the Union’s approval, and you can’t have it this time.’

‘But really,’ the Major was affable as always, ‘this is just a simple one, just something to show the new lad how we run a study. What if we agree not to record our findings? It will be a dummy run. Nothing will come of it.’ It wasn’t an unreasonable request; the Time and Motion men didn’t expect the girls to do anything out of the ordinary, they just watched them at their work while recording their speed with a stopwatch and making notes of their movements on a clipboard. Their purpose was to see if they could find a way to make the work more efficient, perhaps by giving the girls a higher chair, or speeding up the conveyor if it was slowing them down and keeping them waiting. The problem came when the girls thought that the Time and Motion managers were expecting them to work faster than they thought was possible; that was why the Union insisted on approving any study on the line.

‘Major,’ Diana hesitated, as though about to broach a delicate matter, ‘if I could perhaps speak to you about it alone?’

‘No, she can’t!’ Frances burst out, ‘She is being consulted as though she’s an overlooker! I want to lodge a formal complaint.’

The Major forced a tolerant smile and said, ‘Of course, Mrs Roth, of course. Although perhaps we might wait until all your other outstanding complaints against Diana have been dealt with? For the sake of an orderly office.’

Diana tried a different tack and turned on the charm for her arch nemesis, ‘I only wanted to protect your reputation, Mrs Roth.’ She simpered and spoke conspiratorially to the woman. ‘I’ve met this new lad, and I’m afraid to say that some of the girls on our line are very distracted by him. I’m concerned that if he conducts a study on one of your lines, the girls will perform worse than usual because he’s there, and it will reflect badly on you, Mrs Roth. You don’t deserve that; you work so hard to run an orderly line. Perhaps we could run the study without the new Time and Motion lad?’

‘But I’m afraid the whole point of the study is to show Peter how they are run; without him, it would be futile.’ The Major knew that Diana realised this and was deliberately trying to avoid a study. He doubted that it was out of dishonesty, but he still wanted to know why.

‘What about the four new girls?’ Diana asked, ‘They haven’t been trained yet so it wouldn’t matter if you took them to work on one of the dummy lines, or even if you took them to one of the new mechanised lines that you’re starting up so that they can learn the new machines?’ Diana gave the Major a look that told him there was more to this situation, and so he acquiesced.

‘An excellent idea.’ He said, ‘Oh, but Mrs Roth, can you spare them? I would be so very grateful to you if you could do me this personal favour.’ The old military man, with his Savile Row suits and his Sandhurst manners, knew that the battle with Frances Roth was usually won with flattery.

‘Well, I don’t know Major Fergusson. I haven’t had a chance to vet these girls myself—’

‘And it’s a credit to you that you take the time to do it. I know very few overlookers that take the time that you do over your girls.’ The Major wondered if he’d taken it too far, but Diana – the expert in these matters – chipped in with:

‘She’s very good, Major. The other overlookers try to copy her where they can. I expect they’ll all be wanting to send their new girls to you to work on dummy lines now; it will bring them up to speed faster. It’s really a very good idea.’

Brought around to the notion that it had been her idea from the start, Frances Roth agreed and told Diana to take the four new girls and walk them to the dummy line with the Major, and to come straight back.

‘What was all that about?’ the Major whispered to Diana as they made their way down the corridor to the dummy line, well out of earshot of Frances Roth.

‘There’s a problem on my line.’ Diana had dropped the simpering charm. ‘Nothing I can’t handle, but I’d be grateful if you’d hold off any studies.’

‘For how long?’

‘I’m not sure yet.’

‘Anything I can do to help?’

‘Possibly. I’ll let you know.’

‘I heard that you didn’t take the overlookers position; you’re clearly up to the mark, so I don’t understand why you don’t take it.’

‘It’s the hours. It’s the time away from home.’

‘I’m Reenie Calder.’ Reenie caught up with the Time and Motion lad as they walked down the corridor behind Diana and the Major. Reenie put out her hand to shake his, ‘You won’t remember me, but we met the other night. I went to fetch m’father from the pub, and you were very kind and hoisted him onto m’horse.’ Peter shook her hand with a friendly nod, but when he didn’t say anything, Reenie carried on. ‘He’s not always like that, it was just the once.’ Reenie found herself embarrassed; she’d plucked up the courage to talk to the lad that all the girls had been making eyes at, presuming on their earlier acquaintance, thinking that they had made a connection and that she would pick up where they left off, but there was silence. She didn’t know whether she was more embarrassed or crestfallen. She’d really hoped that she could talk to him again.

‘I, um …’ Peter hesitated, looking for the right words. ‘I’ve never seen a girl ride bareback up to a public-house before.’ He seemed to think it was amusing. ‘In fact, that was the first time I’ve seen a girl ride bareback at all. I hope you managed to get his saddle fixed.’ Reenie pleasantly surprised by his accent, he pronounced ‘was’ as ‘wuz’ and to her it sounded cultured and refined.

‘Oh, he doesn’t have a saddle. He’s never had one.’ Reenie seemed to be working something out and then asked, ‘Have you lived in Halifax long?’

‘No, I’m from Norwich.’

‘Ah,’ She said, as though that explained everything.

‘It’s my first week in Halifax.’

‘Well, that explains why you’ve never seen a girl ride bareback. Nearly all the farmer’s daughters round here ride bareback if they can get the loan of a horse.’ Reenie thought about what it would be like to be from Peter’s world. ‘I expect girls in Norwich have to stay at home and embroider the Coleman’s mustard cow onto prayer cushions, while reciting all the kings and queens of England in Latin.’

Peter tried not to smirk and said coolly, ‘Actually it’s an ox, not a cow. But you’re spot on about the kings and queens.’ He seemed quietly pleased with himself for cracking a joke, even though he’d had to be helped into it. ‘Have you been here long? At the factory, I mean?’

‘It’s my first week.’ They shared a comradely smile. They would have to be friends now.

Peter realised it was his turn to speak, and with great effort came up with, ‘Do you think you’ll like it?’

‘I love it. I love it so much. I want to be the quickest girl on the line.’

‘Well, we’ve got something in common. I want to help you to be the quickest girl on the line.’

The dummy line was a foil wrapping machine. It wrapped squares of soft pastel green around triangles of hazelnut praline at a breathtaking speed. The machine didn’t interest Diana – very little did – but what did catch her attention was a girl who had picked up two cartons in one hand and was about to demonstrate to the Time and Motion lad how she thought she could make the line faster. She’d obviously seen Mary Norcliffe use that same trick when she thought no one was looking and was picking up the slack for her sister. These young ones were exasperating.

Diana dived in before Reenie could utter a word to the new lad and steered her over to a quiet corner away from the others. ‘Were you about to tell those gents that you’d had a bright idea?’

Reenie was startled, she hadn’t expected the older girl to notice her and was glad of a chance to share her idea with this girl too. ‘How did you know? It wasn’t really my idea, I got the idea from something I saw, and I thought—’

‘Well don’t. Don’t try any fancy footwork, don’t try to share any bright ideas or do anything differently. Just work slowly and carefully. Don’t talk about what you’ve seen or heard, just stick to a simple job.’ Diana softened her tone when she saw that she’d been too short with Reenie. ‘Look, I want you to do well and be happy, but round here you can get in trouble for thinking. Just don’t rock the boat. And if you’ve got any ideas you tell me and not the overlookers. I’ll tell you when you’re allowed to have a bright idea and you’ll do alright.’ Diana received no response from the startled girl. ‘Do you understand?’

‘Yes, I think so. Although I think that the lad who I was going to show my idea to is different from the others because—’

‘No.’ Diana stopped Reenie short. ‘Don’t go getting ideas about the management lads. That one is no different from the others. I’ve heard all about him; he’s from some fancy family in Norwich and he’s a friend of one of Lord Mackintosh’s sons, or nephews or summat. He’ll be here five minutes and then they’ll give him a job running one of the factories abroad. Mark my words, he’s no different. If he asks you to walk out with him say a polite no, because his type is not for the likes of you; you can do better. He’ll show you a good time and then he’ll be gone. You deserve better; look to the engineers, or one of the factory fitters, but don’t make eyes at the management lads even if they make eyes at you. In fact, especially if they make eyes at you.’

Reenie nodded and looked crestfallen; she seemed to take the advice on board.

‘Just remember,’ Diana told her as kindly as she could, ‘all these management types are friends of the Mackintosh family; they might seem down-to-earth, but on Sunday afternoons they’re eating cucumber sandwiches in Lady Mackintosh’s drawing room, so don’t go thinking you can make friends with them. It’s them and us.’

Reenie nodded again. She’d had the wind knocked out of her sails, but it was what she needed. Some of these new girls were so green.

For a split second, Diana didn’t recognise the two men walking towards her with their hands in their pockets. Perhaps it was seeing them in an unexpected environment, or the worn blue overalls that she’d never seen them in before, but for a moment she took them for normal factory craftsmen, on their way to a repair job. And when one of them looked her full in the face and gave her a nasty grin she felt a jolt of discomfort and walked past them for several paces before her mind caught up with itself. It was her stepbrother and his friend – her former beau, Stewart, though it pained her to remember it. They were clearly up to no good.

Diana froze for a second in confusion, then spun around and caught up with the trespassers. ‘What are you two doing here,’ she hissed to her stepbrother, ‘and who gave you those overalls?’

‘What’s wrong with our overalls? I think they’re very fetching.’ Tommo mimed a pantomime twirl like Fred Astaire in a song and dance picture on the polished floor of the deserted factory corridor. He was smirking; he obviously wasn’t worried in the slightest about being caught by his stepsister.

‘You know bloody well.’ Diana looked around to make sure they were alone. It wasn’t unusual to see craftsmen like electricians, or fitters, or joiners, walking through the corridors on their way to or from a job mid-shift. There were so many thousands of employees at Mackintosh’s that no one could be expected to know every employee. If anyone else had seen them, they’d have assumed they were on their way to a line needing a repair, but Diana knew better.

‘Maybe we felt like getting jobs at Mac’s.’ Stewart ran his hand through his soft, floppy hair in a habit that had been honed over the years by his innate vanity. The same vanity that had prevented him from holding down any regular job for more than a week. He provided a stark contrast with his friend Tommo. Tommo was scrawny for a grown man; he had thinning black hair that was combed back with thick Brylcreem. His wide, frog-like mouth made Diana feel sick to look at it, and his beady, rat-like eyes always made her think that he was up to something. He usually was up to something. Stewart on the other hand was tall, muscular, sandy-haired, and with a complexion that was like rich Devon cream. His long, light brown eyelashes framed azure blue eyes that looked uncomplicated and innocent to anyone who didn’t know him; and vacant to the few who did. Today Stewart’s summer suntan was all but faded, along with any feelings Diana once had for him. She’d liked him when they were kids because he’d been the best-looking boy around and she enjoyed lording it over the other girls, but she was a different person now. The trouble was that Stewart was ignorant, and stupid enough to follow Tommo around. One day Tommo would get them both into trouble, and Diana thought it would serve them right.

Stewart huffed in a petulant pretence at being hurt by what Diana had said. ‘You’re always banging on about how important it is to get a job, and now that I’ve got one you’re rude to me.’

Diana wasn’t fooled by Stewart or his overalls. ‘I know full well you haven’t got a job here. These are craftsmen’s overalls; you haven’t passed an apprenticeship overnight, so these aren’t yours. I’ll ask you one last time before I call for the Watchman: what are you doing here?’

Tommo rolled on his heels with his hands in his pockets. His smug expression had not left his frog-like mouth. ‘And what are you doing here, sis?’ He lowered his voice and moved closer to her, even though they were completely alone in the echoey factory corridor. ‘Haven’t they found out your little secret yet?’