The Quality Street Girls. Penny Thorpe

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at the factory when she was sixteen. Diana had been a bit of a bully and a troublemaker those first few years, and the Major kept a close eye on her. She ruled the roost, but she had been a different person then. When her father had left the factory, Diana had become more troublesome than ever, and for a moment it had looked as though she would have to be dismissed. But then her father had died suddenly, and just as suddenly she changed beyond recognition. Diana had gone away for nearly a year claiming she needed to care for a sick relative in the country, but the Major suspected that she was caring for her halfsister who was born about that time. Her father hadn’t married her stepmother, but there had been a baby, little Grace. Diana’s father had died before he’d seen the child, but Diana and Ethel had stuck together all the same.

      Diana had gone from living in a comfortable flat above a rented shop in a shabbily respectable part of town, to living in the attic room of a woman that she called her stepmother. The transformation had been as unexpected as it had been remarkable; Diana was still the ‘it girl’ of Mackintosh’s factory and she still commanded a following among the girls, but these days she used her influence sparingly to secure herself a quiet life. Six years before she had a nasty habit of using her power to torment and tease. The old Diana liked power and adulation; the new Diana was a woman wise to injustice.

      Now Frances sensed her chance for revenge and took every opportunity to use her power over Diana. The pair were usually kept apart, but Quality Street production was ramping up faster than planned and their unique skills were needed on the same line.

      ‘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,

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