The Buffer Girls (30 page)

‘No, Josh,’ Trip said with more vigour in his voice. ‘It’s Sunday, isn’t it?’ He looked up at the others, as if he’d lost count of the days.
‘He’s always home at a weekend.’

‘I must go back tomorrow. I can’t risk not going into work on Tuesday morning. I don’t want
to get the sack for a second time.’ Josh smiled wryly as he added,
‘Though I suppose it wouldn’t matter so much as I’m leaving anyway.’

‘Leaving? Why?’

Now Josh’s smile broadened into genuine pleasure. ‘Because I’m coming back here to marry Amy.’ He turned and beckoned to the little boy, who had been hiding behind his
mother’s skirts and whom Trip had not noticed. ‘This little chap
is my son.’

Trip stared at Harry, then rose unsteadily to his feet and held out his hand to Josh. His voice was husky as he said, ‘You’re a lucky fellow, Josh. And you, Amy, I’m delighted
for you both.’ He held out his arms to her and kissed her on both cheeks. ‘I just wish . . .’

He said no more, but they all knew that he was longing to find the same happiness with Emily.

‘I’ll
make up a bed for you, Trip, on the sofa in the parlour, if that’d be all right?’

‘Oh Amy, I can’t—’

‘Yes, you can,’ she said firmly. ‘You’ll stay with us until we get all this mess sorted out. And tomorrow, when your father’s gone to the city, I’ll go and
see your mother, but you must tell me what you want me to say to her, though don’t worry about that now. You look as if you could
do with something else to eat in a little while and then
bed.’

‘What about Josh? Where’s he to sleep?’

Josh looked embarrassed and Amy blushed, but it was Bob who came to the rescue. ‘I’ll see Grace Partridge. She’ll find you a bed for the night, though she might give you a bit
of a telling off for having deserted Amy. And be warned now, lad –’ he wagged his finger in Josh’s face,
half in jest, half in seriousness – ‘if you stay away again,
I’ll come and find you, armed with a shotgun.’

They all laughed a little awkwardly, but then Amy said, ‘Josh, can you make a bed up on the sofa for Trip in the front room? Dad, will you look after Harry whilst I get Trip something else
to eat? It’s time you stopped working anyway. You don’t reckon to work on a Sunday. It’s disgraceful.
What will the vicar think?’

‘It was a rush job for a farmer. He needed a sturdy gate sharpish.’

‘One more day won’t hurt,’ Amy said firmly. All three men gaped at her and then glanced at each other.

‘My little Amy, all grown up,’ Bob murmured. Then he added teasingly, ‘Are you sure you still want to marry this bossy woman, Josh?’

Josh’s answer was very serious as he said softly,
‘I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life.’ Though silently, he thought, How I’m to face my mother and
Lizzie too, I don’t know.

But if Amy has grown up, then so must he. He must become a man.

It was too late to talk to anyone when Josh finally got back to the city on the Monday night. He crept upstairs and into the attic, undressed quietly and got into bed. But
sleep eluded him. He had so much to think about. First, he had to face tomorrow and all its difficulties but, at the end of the week, he would be hurrying back to Amy and his son. At the thought of
the
little boy, Josh smiled in the darkness and all his misgivings about telling his mother and explaining to Lizzie faded into insignificance. And there was an added bonus to all this; he would be
escaping from Mick Dugdale’s clutches.

Amy didn’t sleep well either that Monday night. She was torn by an overwhelming happiness that Josh had come back to her and that he had never intended to hurt
her. It
had all been a dreadful misunderstanding because their letters hadn’t reached each other. But disturbing Amy’s sleep, too, was the thought of facing Mrs Trippet. Now, she regretted
offering to see Trip’s mother, of whom she’d always been in awe. Despite the childhood friendship of the four youngsters, invitations to Riversdale House had never been forthcoming. Amy
had only seen Trip’s
parents at a distance. Even when they wanted work done at the smithy, or candles from Josh, the orders were always brought by one of their servants. However, she took
heart in Mrs Trippet’s kind gestures over news of Amy’s pregnancy. Aunty Grace had told her that Constance Trippet had been the leading force behind the villagers’ acceptance of
the news.

‘But for her,’ Grace had said, ‘it
might have been very different.’

But at last, in the early hours, Amy fell asleep with a smile on her mouth as she remembered the date. Today was St Valentine’s Day.

‘I’ve found Trip,’ were Josh’s first whispered words to Emily early on Tuesday morning.

‘Where? How is he? What happened?’

‘Hey, hang on a minute,’ Josh laughed, but then his expression sobered. ‘He’ll be all right,
but he was in a bad way when I found him.’

Emily gasped and her eyes widened with terror. Now, there was no doubt in Josh’s mind that the two people he loved dearly were meant to be together. Swiftly, he explained everything that
had happened and reassured her that Trip was truly all right, ending, ‘And Emily, I have a son. A dear little boy called Joshua Henry after me, but known as Harry.’

Emily stared open-mouthed at him for a moment before questions poured from her lips. ‘Oh Josh, how wonderful. How old is he? Is he like you? My goodness – I’m an aunty!’
She clasped her hands together in excitement and then, calming a little, asked seriously, ‘What are you going to do?’

She could see that already there was a new-found determination in her brother. Gone was the indecision
and the kowtowing to their mother and even his weakness over Lizzie. He was going to stand
up to both of them.

‘I’m going to give a week’s notice and then I’m going back to Ashford. I shall start up the candle-making business again and – if I can get the tenancy –
we’ll live in The Candle House. We’ll be married as soon as we can – when I’m of age, if Mam still withholds her consent before
then.’

Emily was thoughtful for a moment before saying quietly, ‘What if Mam decides to go back to Ashford? There’s nothing for her here if you leave.’

‘She’ll stay with you, won’t she? You’re making a real success of your business now.’

Emily smiled ruefully and said quietly, ‘No, Josh, she won’t stay here for me and besides, I wouldn’t want her to. Dad would be better back in the
countryside.’

‘Mm, well, they could come back home. Amy and me – and Harry –’ there was such pride in his tone as he said his son’s name – ‘could live with Mr Clark.
I’m sure he wouldn’t mind that. In fact, I think he’d be pleased as punch. When we were talking about living next door, I saw his face. I don’t think he wants them to leave
his house, even to live next door!’

‘That’s all
right, then. If Mam does want to go back, I’m sure she’d get the tenancy back if the house has been empty all this time. And now, I’d better get myself
ready to go to Ashford.’

‘What about your work?’

‘Hang work! This is Trip we’re talking about. Besides, the three of them can cope for a couple of days.’ She grinned as she added, ‘I’ll take a “Saint
Tuesday” and Wednesday, if I have
to.’

At the reference to Lizzie, Josh’s face sobered. He’d been so wrapped up in his plans for returning to Ashford and marrying Amy and – he could still hardly believe it –
becoming a proper father, that he’d almost forgotten that he had a very unpleasant task to do first, to say nothing of telling his mother.

He was not sure which woman he dreaded facing the most.

When he woke,
Trip seemed much better, but after breakfast, Amy – already up and busy dressing Harry – insisted that Trip should go back to the sofa.

‘You need a lot of rest and some good food inside you. Then we’ll see about you getting out in the fresh air. And let me have any washing you want doing. Washday should have been
yesterday, but with so much going on, I’ve put it off until tomorrow now. With
all the excitement, I was late up this morning to get the copper going.’ She smiled, the happiness shining
out of her. ‘But no matter. One day’s as good as the next, isn’t it? Now, Dad’s gone to his work and if you could keep an eye on Harry for me, I’ll go and see your
mother. What do you want me to tell her?’

‘Whatever you like, Amy. I trust you.’

‘What about your father’s – er –
mistress?’

Trip was thoughtful. ‘I just don’t know if she has any inkling.’

‘I’ll be tactful, I promise.’

Trip smiled weakly. ‘I know you will. Good luck – and thank you.’

As she neared the big house at the end of the street, Amy’s stomach was churning with nerves. She went round to the back of the house, to the tradesmen’s entrance, and knocked. A
housemaid in a black dress,
with a pristine white apron and lace cap, opened the door.

‘Hello, Amy,’ Polly greeted her. ‘Whatever brings you here?’

‘I’ve come to see Mrs Trippet.’

The maid frowned. ‘She doesn’t normally see anyone without an appointment being made first.’

‘This is important. It’s about Trip – I mean Thomas.’

‘He’s in the city. He lives and works there now. He doesn’t come home very often.
Oh dear!’ The girl clapped her hand to her mouth as a thought struck her. ‘Is he
all right? Has something happened to him?’

‘Yes and no,’ Amy said. ‘He’s all right, but something has happened. I really need to see your mistress, Polly.’

‘Come in, then, and I’ll see what I can do.’

Amy waited in the kitchen, chatting to the cook, Mrs Froggatt, but her mind was hardly on the words
the woman was saying, so anxious was she about seeing Mrs Trippet.

It seemed an age before Polly returned. ‘The mistress will see you, but she’s puzzled as to why you wish to see her.’

Amy’s stomach felt as if it turned over. This was going to be far more difficult than she’d imagined; and she’d imagined plenty through the long night!

She was shown into the morning room where Mrs Trippet
was seated on the window seat. She was holding a book, but she laid it aside as Amy entered the room and, smiling, patted the seat beside
her.

‘Come, we can talk here and Polly will bring us some tea or coffee. Which do you prefer, Amy? You don’t mind if I call you “Amy”, do you?’

‘Of course not, ma’am. And tea would be lovely, thank you, and I must thank you for all the kind gifts you’ve
sent me over the past year.’ She blushed. ‘It meant a
great deal to me to have your understanding and support.’

‘No need for the “ma’am”, my dear. “Mrs Trippet” will do nicely. And it’s been my pleasure to help you. Now, what can I do for you this morning? Is
there something you need for your little boy?’

They were sitting on either end of the curved window seat so that they were facing
each other.

‘It’s about Trip, ma’am – Mrs Trippet. I mean, Thomas.’

‘Call him Trip if it’s easier for you. I know that’s his nickname amongst his friends.’

‘He’s here in the village and he’s staying with us.’

Constance frowned. ‘But – but why? Why doesn’t he come home?’

This was harder than Amy had imagined. She’d believed the woman would know that her husband had dismissed
Trip from his work and had disowned him. She had expected to see a distraught
woman, anxious for any news of her son. Now Amy was obliged to tell her the whole sorry story. She took a deep breath and plunged in.

‘Your husband and Trip had a big row just after Christmas and Mr Trippet dismissed him from his work and – and –’ she ran her tongue around her lips that were suddenly
dry – ‘he
told him not – not to come home any more. He’s disowned him.’

‘Disowned him?’ Constance gave a disbelieving laugh. ‘He can’t do that.’ But as she stared at Amy’s solemn face, she realized that was exactly what her
husband had done. Her amusement died instantly. ‘Why?’ she whispered.

‘Trip was keeping company with Emily Ryan in the city. They used to meet every Sunday afternoon in the
park. Mr Trippet found out about this and ordered him to stop seeing her. When Trip
refused—’

‘He threw him out,’ Constance murmured, ‘from home and his inheritance too.’

Amy nodded and for a long pause neither of them spoke. Whilst Constance was trying to take all this in and formulate some questions, Polly brought in the tray, set out cups and saucers and
poured tea. When the maid
had left the room, Constance asked, ‘Is he in love with Emily?’

‘Yes, he says so.’

‘And does she love him?’

‘Josh says so.’ She smiled now at the memory of Josh’s words. ‘He says she’s loved Trip since she was twelve.’

‘Josh Ryan? You’ve seen him?’

‘He came back on Saturday. He – we’re going to be married.’ Now the girl blushed a little as she added, ‘He’s the father of my
baby, but he didn’t know
anything about him. But now he does.’

‘And he’s going to do the honourable thing,’ Constance murmured again.

‘It was Josh who found Trip. He’d been living rough – squatting, I suppose you’d call it – in The Candle House. It’s been empty since the Ryans left.
He’s in rather a bad state, Mrs Trippet.’

Constance gasped and her hand fluttered to her mouth.
‘Oh, is he ill?’

‘Not exactly, but he soon might have been, if Josh hadn’t found him. He was half starved and his clothes – well, they need a good wash. But I’ll see to that.’

Constance now reached out a trembling hand towards Amy and tears started in her eyes. ‘Oh please, tell him to come home. Today. Now!’

‘I’ll tell him, Mrs Trippet, but I don’t know if he will. I don’t think he
would dare. He just wanted me to tell you what had happened and to let you know that he’s
all right. He thought you would have heard and be worried about him.’

‘Oh, I most certainly would have been, had I known. But my dear husband,’ she went on with bitter resentment in her tone, ‘said not a word to me about any of this.’ She
was thoughtful for a moment before saying, ‘How did he find
out about Thomas and Emily?’

‘I . . . perhaps Trip had better tell you that himself.’

Constance eyed the girl shrewdly. ‘But you know, don’t you?’