The Buffer Girls (27 page)

Walter gave a sob, but nodded.

‘What about ours to her, because we’ve both written to her and left them on the table for Mam to post
for us?’

He put a shaking hand to his head as he nodded again.

‘And – and has there been one for me recently from Trip?’

Another ‘yes’.

Emily was horrified and yet there was a little comfort in the thought that Trip had written to her since he’d gone missing.

Now, Walter’s eyes were frightened as he pulled one hand away from her and put his finger to his lips.

‘I must tell
Josh,’ she said urgently. ‘He must know, but I promise we won’t say a word to Mam.’

At once Walter relaxed and, as they heard Martha’s footsteps coming down the stairs, he fell back in his chair and closed his eyes, exhausted by the supreme exertion of communicating with
Emily. She stood up as Martha came in. ‘Is his bed ready, Mam?’ With a great effort Emily managed to make her voice sound
normal. ‘He seems very tired.’

‘I’m not surprised. He’s been on edge all day. I don’t know what the matter is.’

I do, Emily wanted to shout. Maybe he watched you burn yet another letter, probably one for me from Trip, and he just couldn’t bear the deceit any longer. But instead she pressed her lips
together and said nothing. ‘I’ll help you,’ she said, with surprising calmness. ‘Have
you got a brick heating in the oven?’

Martha nodded. ‘I’ll take it up and we’ll get him into bed.’

Tenderly, she touched her father’s hand. ‘Come on, Dad. Let’s get you upstairs and you can sleep.’ As her mother left the room again, she whispered, ‘Don’t
you worry about a thing.’

But what would Josh say and do when she told him?

After her father was safely in bed and, to Emily’s relief, asleep, she left the house and went in search of Josh.

‘Hello, luv,’ Bess Dugdale said as she answered Emily’s knock. ‘You lookin’ for Lizzie?’

‘No, actually, it’s Josh I was looking for. Is he here?’

‘Sorry, luv, no. He hasn’t been round here of an evening for several days now.’ She stepped close. ‘Have they
quarrelled, d’you know?’

‘I . . . don’t know, Mrs Dugdale.’

Bess was thoughtful for a moment, then she shrugged. ‘Lizzie seems OK. If there’d been a row, she’d have been in a right teking, I can tell you.’

Emily tried to smile. The news she had to impart to Josh would change everything. ‘If you do see Josh, please tell him to come home.’

‘Is it your dad, luv?’

‘No, no, he’s
fine, but – Josh is needed at home.’

‘Well, he’s gone out with Mick and his mates. I do know that, though our Lizzie’s fuming about it. She wanted Josh to take her out, it being Saturday night.’ Noticing
Emily’s worried frown, Bess said, ‘But don’t you worry about your Josh. Mick’s a good lad. He’ll look after him.’

If Emily had known exactly where Josh was at that moment, she would
have been truly alarmed.

As Josh arrived home from work at lunchtime, Mick had been hovering in the courtyard. ‘Orreight, Josh?’

Josh forced a grin. ‘I will be, when I’ve had a good wash and called it the weekend.’

‘Be ready at six tonight. Pete’s picking up a car and taking us out of the city for a little drive.’

Josh felt a wave of relief; there couldn’t be any harm in a drive
in the countryside. It’d be good to get out of the smoke and dust of the narrow streets. Now Josh smiled genuinely.
‘I might have to help Mam with me dad before—’

‘Can’t Emily help? Or they can call on my mam for help. Tha’s gotta be ready at six, mate. Pete can’t have the car for long. He’s – er – borrowing
it.’

‘All right, I’ll be ready.’

As soon as he got in, he said, ‘Is Emily
home?’

‘Not yet. Working late – again. I think she makes a lot more of this little business of hers than it really is. Anyone would think she’s angling to be Master Cutler one
day.’

‘Mick’s asked me to go out with him tonight. We’re going for a ride in the countryside. Is that all right, Mam? I mean, Emily will be home soon to help you with Dad.’

‘Of course, it is. You go out and
enjoy yourself. You’ve worked hard all week and you’ve been so good giving me extra money. You deserve a bit of fun. Your dad’s a bit on
edge today, but he’s all right. We’ll manage him.’

And so Josh, believing that all the evening held was a merry drive out into the countryside in Pete’s borrowed car, had gone happily to meet up with Mick.

Pete arrived in an open-topped Model T Ford.
Gary was already sitting beside him as Mick and Josh paused to admire the motorcar.

‘By heck, Pete, you’ve got a good ’un tonight. Shame to—’

‘Look quick,’ Pete shouted above the noisy engine. ‘I don’t want to hang about.’

When Mick and Josh had climbed into the back, they were off with a jerk as more and more folks on Garden Street came out of their houses to see what the commotion
was. Mick waved grandly, just
as if he were visiting royalty as the car reached the edge of the city and began to chug up the hill towards Baslow. Soon, they were out in the countryside and the cold wind was biting their faces
and chilling them through. This wasn’t quite the nice drive Josh’d thought it would be; his teeth were chattering.

‘Is it much further, Pete?’ Mick shouted. ‘We’re
perished back here.’

‘Not far. Just down this narrow lane . . .’ He swung the car to the left and it bounced and jolted over rough ground. About half a mile down the lane, he turned left again into a
grass field and drove across it towards a huge barn.

Josh was now beginning to feel apprehensive; this was no ordinary drive out into the country. Now he could see the moving shadows of
several men – in fact, a lot more than several, there
must be at least a hundred, he thought – all moving towards the barn. Pete drew the car to a halt alongside one or two other vehicles on the far side of the building, out of sight from the
lane.

‘Come on,’ Mick said, climbing out. ‘Josh, I want a word before we go in.’ There was excitement in his tone. Pete and Gary moved away, following
the other men into the
barn.

‘I want you to be me runner tonight, Josh.’

‘What is this, Mick? Another pitch and toss game?’

‘Nah! It’s bare-knuckle boxing. A lot more money to be made here, mate. Now, you go around the crowd taking bets, orreight? And you write out a slip for each one, ’cos
we’ll never remember all this lot. Pete and Gary’ll be doin’ it an’ all, so you don’t have
to get round everybody.’

Josh sighed inwardly. Why had he been so naïve? A ride into the countryside on a winter’s evening? He must have been mad to have believed such an unlikely story. But, sadly, he only
realized it now. And now was too late!

They stepped inside the barn, which was surprisingly warm. In the centre was a makeshift boxing ring, with bales of straw placed to form an
empty square.

‘The lads like to see the boxers before they place their bets,’ Mick said, ‘just to see who they like the look of. Now, here’re some bits of paper and a couple of
pencils. Don’t forget to write ’names down of who places what, ’cos you can’t trust no one in this game.’

That, Josh could well believe!

Two men, dressed only in their vests and long johns, climbed over the
bales. They took up their positions in opposite corners, their backs to the ring as they held out their hands to their
seconds, two more men at each corner who appeared to be binding their boxer’s knuckles with straw. Josh shuddered as he imagined what was going to happen and for the first time he was
grateful he had a job to do and could avoid watching the bloodbath.

He weaved in and
out of the crowd as bets began to be taken. Soon he had run out of all the pieces of paper that Mick had given him and broken the tip of one of the pencils, but his pockets were
bulging with money. As the first bout of the evening began, he threaded his way through the crowd to Mick.

‘You’ve done well, Josh. Lizzie would be right proud of you – if she knew, which she mustn’t. You know that,
don’t you, Josh?’ His tone was deadly serious
now. Gone in an instant was any joviality. ‘No one must know. Orreight?’

Josh nodded, but avoided meeting Mick’s penetrating gaze. ‘What do you want me to do now, Mick?’

‘You can watch the match with the rest of ’em, if you want, or you can help us count the money and take our dibs. When it finishes, we’ll have to pay out to those that have
won.’

‘I’ll help you,’ Josh said quickly.

Mick had set himself up in a corner of the barn with an upturned box as a table. Pete and Gary arrived with their takings and the four of them began to count the money. Josh had never seen so
much money in one place. He noticed that Gary tried to secrete a pound note up his sleeve, but Mick’s sharp eyes saw him. He gripped his friend’s arm
and hissed, ‘Don’t you
try that on me, mate, else I’ll break your knuckles for yer.’

‘Sorry, Mick.’ Gary was immediately contrite. ‘It’s just that I ain’t ever seen so much money.’

‘You’ll get your share. I’m always fair with you, ain’t I?’

Subdued, Gary nodded. ‘Sorry, Mick. It won’t happen again.’

‘It better hadn’t,’ Mick said warningly but then he was all smiles again.

There were three bouts and to Josh each one seemed bloodier than the previous one. He was glad to run around with the winnings and then busy himself taking the next lot of bets. He didn’t
want to see two men trying to knock each other senseless. It was a gruesome sight and Josh felt sick every time he caught a glimpse of the fighters. The very last bout seemed worse than the
previous two. They
battered each other, until straw bits from their bound hands were sticking to each other’s facial wounds. Josh was glad – yet sorry at the same time for the chap on
the floor – when it finally ended with a knockout.

When it was all over and the winners paid out, Mick gave Pete, Gary and Josh their earnings for the evening. As the crowd began to disperse, Mick said, ‘Right, we’ve earned a
few
beers now, lads. There’s a crate hidden under those bales over there. I brought ’em when I did a recce yesterday.’

Gary grinned and headed to the corner whilst Pete said, ‘Mick always checks out a place first, just to make sure it’s as safe as it can be. And we never go to the same place twice
running. Mind you,’ he added, glancing round. ‘We’ve been here before. ’Bout six months ago,
I reckon, but it were light nights then and a bit more risky. Folks don’t
come out so much when it’s dark and cold. Not even coppers.’

They drank the beer sitting on the bales that had formed the ring, talking over the events of the evening.

‘I fancied that big feller, the fair-haired one, in the first fight, to win, but he didn’t last long. I thought it were a poor show, that fight,’
Pete said. ‘A lot of my
punters weren’t happy, Mick.’

But Mick only shrugged.

‘The other two were good, though,’ Gary put in. ‘Everyone went away happy enough in the end.’

‘Right,’ Mick said standing up. ‘We’d better get moving. Put the bales back where they belong, Gary, and take the crate and the bottles out to the car. It’ll fit on
the back seat between me an’ Josh.’

As
they were leaving, Mick paused at the doorway to take a last look around, then he extinguished all the lamps and set them near the door. Seeming satisfied that no trace of what had taken
place that night remained, Mick gave a nod and led the way out of the barn. Outside, the wind seemed even more bitter and stung their cheeks.

‘Are we doin’ the usual with the car, Mick?’ Pete asked.

‘Yeah, but not here. We’ll . . .’

Whatever he had been going to say stuck in his throat as half a dozen bulky shadows appeared out of the darkness.

‘Evening, Micky lad.’

‘Steve,’ Mick said and Josh was certain his voice didn’t sound so cocksure now. ‘What you doin’ here?’

‘Keeping an eye on my territory, that’s what.’

‘
Your
territory?’ Mick laughed, but it was obviously forced.
‘I didn’t know this was your patch.’

‘Really?’ Steve didn’t sound as if he believed him.

‘Yes, really, mate. I wouldn’t tread on your toes. You should know that. We’re mates, aren’t we? You and me against the world, eh, Steve? Isn’t that what we used to
say?’

Steve gave a grunt, which could have been interpreted either way – yes or no. Then he stepped closer to Mick until their noses
were almost touching and, in the moonlight, Josh was sure he
saw the flash of a razor blade as Steve’s hand moved up towards Mick’s face.

‘I ain’t about to swing for you, Mick Dugdale. You aren’t worth that, but I’ll slash you, if you’re trying to take over my patch. See?’

Mick couldn’t even nod acquiescence; the sharp blade was so close to his cheek. ‘I’m not, Steve. I swear I’m not.’

Steve dropped his hand, stepped back and nodded. ‘Glad to hear it. I don’t mind you using Sky Edge as long as it doesn’t clash with my nights, but this place is mine.
See?’

‘Orreight, Steve. We won’t use it again.’

Steve’s hand came up again swiftly and Mick flinched, but this time there was no knife as Steve patted Mick’s cheek. ‘That’s a good boy.’ He turned away and spoke
to
the other men ranged behind him. ‘Orreight, lads, we’re done here.’

‘Aw, ain’t we havin’ a fisticuffs, Steve?’ one of his henchmen said, sounding disappointed.

‘Not now. It’ll start to get light soon and farmers’ll be about. I don’t want to attract unwelcome attention.’ As he walked away, he glanced at the car and called
back over his shoulder, ‘And I wouldn’t go back into town in that.
Word’s already out. But don’t do owt near here.’

‘Right,’ Mick said. ‘Thanks.’

As they walked away, Mick muttered, ‘Let’s get going before he changes his mind. We’ll get well away from here, as near home as is safe and then walk the rest.’

They drove a few miles from the field, back towards the city, but at the top of the last hill Pete halted the vehicle at the side of the road. ‘This
do, Mick?’

‘Yes, fine. We’ll leave you to it, Pete. Come on, you two.’ The other three climbed out of the car and headed off down the road. The city lay below them, a few lights still
twinkling through the darkness, though most law-abiding citizens would still be in bed. Josh had no idea of the time, but he guessed it was well into the early hours.