‘I thought I’d come and hand you the keys personally. And look, I have a little surprise for you.’ He moved to the side and Emily saw the large, newly painted white lettering RYAN’S on the doors.
‘Oh Mr Hawke, how kind of you. But we’re only on a month’s trial. What if it doesn’t work out?’
Nathan chuckled and waved his hand dismissively. ‘I’ll believe that when I see it happen, Emily Trippet. I have every faith in you, my dear.’
It was the beginning of December before the citizens began to feel safe once more. Word was spreading that there was now a special squad of police being trained to deal with the thugs, but still women and children were fearful of going out after dark. There was no news of Mick Dugdale and now, even Steve Henderson seemed to have disappeared too, though his gang still operated the pitch and toss games and the bare-knuckle fights, though they had found a different venue to the farmer’s barn.
‘Is Steve all right? Have you heard from him?’ Emily whispered so that Lizzie would not overhear. Emily had organized her two workshops so that Nell, Ida, Lizzie and Flo stayed in Rockingham Street. They worked so well together that it would have been foolish to break up their team. She employed the three new girls in the small workshop in Broad Street with Winifred running between the two to act as errand girl. Far from feeling as if she was being put on, the young girl thrived on the hard work. ‘It’s nice,’ she said shyly, when Emily asked her if she was coping. ‘I work with me sisters in t’other place and then I get to see what Nell and the others are doing.’
Now Nell gazed at Emily for a moment before saying hesitantly, ‘Can I trust you?’
‘Of course you can.’
Nell glanced over her shoulder to make sure the other three girls could not hear. ‘There’s something you ought to know, but please don’t tell the others, especially not Lizzie.’
‘What is it, Nell?’
Nell ran her tongue over her lips. ‘Steve’s staying with me at the moment. Just until the heat’s off. You won’t say anything to anyone, will you?’
‘Of course not, but do be careful, Nell.’
‘I just wish I knew if the police are actually looking for him. I know there’s a warrant out for Mick’s arrest, but I don’t know about Steve.’
‘Would you like me to try to find out?’
‘If – if you could without stirring up more trouble. I just need to know.’
‘I’ll ask Trip to talk to Joe Crossland. They meet in the pub at the top of our street sometimes. He goes there with his uncle. You remember Eddie Crossland, don’t you, from Waterfall’s?’ Nell nodded. ‘Joe’d be off duty, so it’d be unofficial.’ Emily stopped short of telling Nell how Trip had gone to see Eddie at the time of Lucy’s disappearance. The less she knew about that, the better.
As it turned out, though, Trip didn’t need to ask the policeman directly. On the Saturday night following Emily’s discussion with Nell, the three men happened to meet up in the pub.
‘Good to see you, Joe. Getting your time off again now, are you?’ Trip greeted the police sergeant, keeping the conversation light.
‘Aye, thank God. Been a tough time, but t’chief reckons he’s getting top side of it, though I’m not so sure. There’s still a lot of bother from the gangs.’
‘Anyone in custody?’
Joe shook his head. ‘Only one or two we could catch. And of course Mick Dugdale’s slipped the net again. Let’s hope he stays away this time.’
Joe glanced at Trip, who was studying his glass of beer intently. Lowering his voice he leaned towards Trip and murmured, ‘We’re not looking for anyone else now. There are one or two – no names, no pack drill –’ he tapped the side of his nose – ‘who we know were gangsters, but we’ve insufficient evidence against them and those we have got in custody are keeping quiet.’ He gave a wry laugh. ‘Very quiet. Evidently, they know what’s good for them. They’re taking the fall for one or two of their associates, if you get my meaning.’
Trip nodded. He asked no further questions; there was no need. He believed that Joe had deliberately passed on this information so that word could be passed to Steve. It was more than likely – particularly since Lucy’s abduction – that more people than they realized now knew about Steve Henderson’s connection to the little girl and her mother.
‘How about a game of darts, Joe? You up for that?’ Trip said, as the two men smiled at each other and exchanged an unspoken pact.
‘Aye, let’s have a team competition. Uncle Eddie loves his darts and if I know owd John in the corner over there, he never passes up the chance to play.’
It was late when Trip staggered home, but luckily he only had a few yards to go to reach his own front door and he knew there would be no trouble from his wife when he told her the news.
The next day, as they finished work, Emily said, ‘Nell, could you stay behind for a few moments? I won’t keep you long.’
It was not unusual for Emily to consult Nell on matters of business so the other girls thought nothing of it. They left calling out a cheery ‘goodnight’. Only Lizzie was still subdued after the recent trouble. She and her mother Bess still had no idea where Mick had gone and they both realized that if he was caught, it would mean a long jail sentence for him.
As the three girls clattered down the stairs and paused for a few moments to flirt with the grinders in the workshop below, Emily said in a low voice, ‘I think it’s going to be all right, Nell.’ And she recounted what Trip had told her the previous night, ending, ‘They’re not looking for Steve.’
Nell bit her lip. ‘How can you be sure? Maybe this copper you’re so friendly with was just telling Trip that to flush Steve out.’
‘Maybe, but I don’t think so.’
Nell was thoughtful before murmuring, ‘Thanks anyway, Emily. And please thank Trip too, won’t you? I’ll tell Steve what you’ve said.’
‘If there’s any way we can help you, Nell, you let us know, won’t you?’
Nell touched Emily’s hand in a gesture of gratitude and nodded, but she could not speak for the lump in her throat. Nell was usually so strong, so feisty, but her daughter’s abduction and her fears for the man she loved had shaken her badly.
Three days later, Trip had a surprise visitor at Trippets’ factory. As the man walked through the workshops, several heads turned and the news was spread by mouthing the words and being lip-read by fellow workers. Before the visitor even reached the offices, Trip knew of his arrival and so he was waiting with his office door open when the man arrived in the corridor.
Trip held out his hand. ‘Steve Henderson, I believe. We haven’t met officially, but it was you who rescued us the night my sidecar decided to take a detour off the road. Do come in. Patricia –’ he called to one of the women typists in the next office – ‘can you rustle up some tea for us, please?’ Ushering Steve into his office and indicating a chair for him to sit, Trip added, ‘How can I help you?’
His unexpected visitor came at once to the point. ‘If I were to decide to go straight, Trip,’ Steve’s mouth twisted with wry humour, ‘would you help me find a job?’
Trip stared at him solemnly for a few moments. ‘If you were to give me your word that you really meant it and that it’s not a way into my factory to carry on your betting scams and so on, then, yes, I’d be willing to give you a trial, though it would depend on how good your work is, like anyone else.’
‘When I first left school, I was an apprentice grinder. I didn’t finish my training.’ He laughed shortly. ‘I found other ways to make money – a lot more money – but I didn’t dislike the work then and I think I was quite good at it. Anyway, you ask George Bayes. He’ll remember me.’
‘You mean, you worked at Trippets’?’
Steve nodded. ‘For two years.’
‘Well, I’ll be damned.’
‘No, Trip,’ Steve said seriously. ‘It’ll be me who’s damned if I don’t change my ways. It’s high time I looked after my family properly and th
ere’s only one way Nell will let me do that.’
‘And that’s the only reason you want to give up a life of crime?’
‘If I’m honest,’ Steve added and Trip managed to keep a straight face, ‘there is another reason. The police are gearing up to rid the city of the gangs and I reckon they’ll do it, an’ all. But if they catch up with me, Trip, it’d be prison for a long time. Nell would never marry me then and I wouldn’t see my girl grow up. So, you see, I really am serious. Please believe me.’
Trip looked deep into the man’s eyes. After a moment’s deliberate pause he held out his hand. ‘I do believe you, Steve, and I’ll do what I can to help you. And the sooner the better, I take it?’
‘Oh yes.’ Steve’s words were heartfelt as they shook hands.
‘Now,’ Trip said, ‘let’s have that tea and then we’ll go and find George Bayes.’
Twenty minutes later, they were talking to George.
‘You were always a good worker, Steve, I’ll give you that, but we’d have to start you at the bottom again. It’s a while since you worked here, though I reckon you’d move up pretty quickly. It’d soon come back to you. Aye, Master Thomas –’ the two half-brothers, who both had the surname Trippet now, were always referred to as Master Thomas or Master Richard to save confusion – ‘I’d be willing to take him on a month’s trial, if you’re agreeable.’
‘I am and there’s something else you could help me with too, Steve, if you’d be willing. Emily’s taken on Mr Hawke’s rebuilt workshop again, so she will be needing to get further afield to fetch and carry work. After our accident with the sidecar, I bought her a car. Obviously, Mr Kirkland, who’s been giving us both driving lessons, can’t be here all the time, so until she’s safe to go out on her own, I wonder if we might call on you to help out when necessary?’
Steve nodded. ‘I’d be glad to.’
‘Then organize your work schedule with Mr Bayes and Master Richard.’ Trip put his hand on Steve’s shoulder and dropped his voice so that only he and George Bayes could hear. ‘And what about you and Nell?’
‘I’ve got to prove myself to her first – to you all, really, haven’t I? But I’m hopeful that she’ll agree to marry me one day.’
When Steve left the factory half an hour later, he felt as if he were walking on air. For the first time in several years – more than he cared to think about now – he felt he could walk freely and without fear through the streets. He’d been a bad lad – he knew that – and he’d been a fool too. Nell would have married him years earlier if only he’d not led a life of crime. He’d been extraordinarily lucky never to have been arrested and he knew he owed a debt of gratitude to those who had been caught and had kept their mouths shut. He promised himself that he would see that their wives and families were all right whilst they served their sentences, but that would be as far as it went. He no longer wanted to live ‘on the wrong side of the law’.
He couldn’t wait to get home and tell Nell the good news. He’d soon have her singing at her buffing machine once more. And, if she agreed, they’d have the best Christmas ever as a real family for the first time.
Sixteen
In the second week of December, Emily said, ‘Trip – I have some news.’
‘Good or bad?’ Trip was wary. There had been so much troubling news recently, he was beginning to think there wasn’t any other kind.
Emily chuckled. ‘I’m hoping you’ll think it’s good news.’ She paused, and then added impishly, ‘You’re going to be a dad.’
He stared at her for a moment then crossed the space between them and folded her into his arms. ‘My darling, it’s wonderful news.’ And then, as if he couldn’t quite believe it, added hesitantly, ‘Are you sure?’
‘I saw the doctor this morning and he confirmed it.’
They leaned back from each other, though Trip still held her tenderly in his embrace. She reached up and touched his cheek. ‘I can’t promise, of course, but I hope it’s a boy for you.’
Trip shook his head. ‘Oh no,’ he said firmly, ‘I hope it’s a girl as beautiful as you.’
‘Don’t you want a son to carry on the family business?’
He didn’t answer her but instead said, ‘When are you due?’
‘Early June, the doctor thinks.’
‘June! That’s only six months away. Why didn’t you tell me before now?’
Emily chuckled. ‘To be honest, Trip, I didn’t know. I’ve been feeling so well. None of this morning sickness everyone talks about – nothing. It wasn’t until about a week ago when the waistband on one of my favourite skirts suddenly seemed too tight that I realized I’d put on weight. And, there are other signs too – women’s, um, problems. You know?’
Trip blinked, nodded and hastily changed the subject. ‘We’ll have to start thinking of names. And we must go to Ashford on Sunday and tell the parents. Thank goodness we’ve got a car now. It certainly wouldn’t have been good for you to travel in the sidecar.’
‘Darling, I’m not ill, just pregnant. Please don’t start treating me like porcelain.’
‘You’re more precious to me than any porcelain.’ For a moment, his face was bleak. ‘And I don’t want you to go through what my poor mother endured.’
They were both silent for a moment, thinking of Constance Trippet. It had been a great sadness to her that she’d been advised to have no more children after Trip’s birth.
Softly, Emily said, ‘We’ll give her a barrow-load of grandchildren and I expect – if it is a boy – you’ll want to call him after your father.’
‘Not likely,’ Trip said with asperity.
Emily leaned back again to look up at him. ‘Really? After you, then?’
Trip shook his head again. ‘No, the little chap should have his own name. Besides –’ he grinned suddenly – ‘you can’t call a girl “Thomas”.’
Emily blinked. ‘Oh! Oh, all right.’ She chuckled. ‘Then you’d better get your thinking cap on.’
Early on the Sunday morning, they set off to Ashford-in-the-Water.
‘I wonder how we’ll find Father,’ Trip said as he drove. He was now a very competent driver.
‘About the same, I should think,’ Emily said.
‘We’ll see your parents first,’ Trip said, ‘and then go to Riversdale for luncheon.’
Emily smiled softly to herself. Her kindly, ever-thoughtful husband was making the suggestion so that feeding two extra mouths would not put a strain on the Ryans’ resources. They were acutely aware that Josh’s candle-making business was in decline with modern inventions taking the place of candles. Bob Clark was still a fit and healthy forty-four-year-old, but he could not do the volume of blacksmithing work that he had done as a much younger man.
When they pulled up outside the smithy, Josh opened the front door. ‘I thought I heard a car. I hoped it was you two. Come in, come in. We’re just about to eat. Mam and Dad are here too, so I’m sure Amy can stretch—’
‘That’d be lovely, but we’re expected at Riversdale House for lunch,’ Trip said blandly.
‘Well, you must come one Sunday and eat with us. I insist,’ Josh added firmly. ‘Just let us know when you’re coming, that’s all.’
‘We will,’ Emily said, kissing her brother fondly on the cheek. ‘How’s everyone?’
‘Fine. Blooming, in fact.’ Josh’s grin spread across his face. ‘Amy’s expecting again and it seems to suit her.’
Emily glanced at Trip and they both burst out laughing. Josh blushed, not guessing at the real reason for their amusement. ‘I expect you think it’s a bit quick after Sarah, but—’
Emily leaned against Josh, ‘No, no, it’s not that. We’ve come to tell you the same thing.’
‘What?’ Josh glanced from one to the other. ‘You mean, you’re . . . ?’
‘Yes, I am.’
‘Now, this does call for a celebration.’ Josh held open the door and ushered them through to the kitchen, calling, ‘Look who’s here and they’v
e got something to tell us.’
The Ryan family and Bob Clark always had Sunday dinner together in one of their houses. Today, it was Amy’s turn to cook for all of them. Emily found herself blushing as she stepped into Amy’s hot kitchen. All eyes were turned towards her.
‘Is something wrong?’ Martha said at once. ‘We’ve been reading in the papers about the trouble you’ve been having in the city with these wretched gangs. Are your businesses affected?’
Trip put his arm around Emily’s shoulders. ‘That all seems to be settling down now, thank goodness. No, our news is much better than that.’ He glanced at Amy. ‘It seems there are to be two new additions to the family around the same time.’
There was a stunned silence and then everyone started speaking at once.
‘Oh Emily, how lovely. When are you due?’
‘And about time too, I say,’ Josh said.
In a chair near the range, with Harry on his knee, Walter smiled and nodded his delight.
‘What about your business, Emily? Who’ll run that?’ Since the early days when Emily had never figured in Martha’s ambitions – all her hopes and dreams had been centred on Josh – her ever-growing interest in Emily’s success never ceased to amaze her daughter.
But today, the talk was of babies, of names and of what the sex might be. ‘Yours must be a boy, Emily,’ Martha declared firmly, ‘to carry on the Trippet name. Your mother will be delighted, Thomas. Have you told her yet?’
‘No, we called here first, but we’re on our way there to have lunch with her.’
‘I should warn you, Thomas,’ Martha said, ‘that your father has had another little stroke this week – on Friday it was. He’s rallied again, but it’s left its mark.’ Martha cleaned at Riversdale House on two days a week and often knew the news from there before anyone else, although she was careful never to spread it around the village. Her place in the community since their return from the city was better than it had ever been and she didn’t want to jeopardize that by gossiping about the Trippet family.
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