Twisted Strands (18 page)

Bridie wrinkled her forehead. ‘I had wondered why there seemed to be less work coming to the inspection room, though at the moment there seems to be enough to keep most of us
busy.’

‘If things don’t pick up soon I shall have to lay workers off.’ Eveleen gave a humourless laugh. ‘Mind you, Bob Porter will no doubt be pleased if we find we don’t
need women workers after all.’

‘You’ll need them for a while,’ Bridie said in a small voice. ‘There are six more men leaving on Friday.’

Eveleen looked up sharply. ‘How did you know that? I didn’t know.’

‘Mrs Hyde told us today. Her sixteen-year-old son is one of them. He only started in the machine shop a fortnight ago, yet now he’s going.’

‘Sixteen! They can’t go at sixteen, can they?’

Bridie shrugged. ‘Mrs Hyde said them recruiting people aren’t asking too closely what their age is. They just tek ’em anyway.’

Eveleen looked sorrowful for a moment at the thought of the brave young man volunteering. ‘Sixteen,’ she murmured again and shook her head at the sheer waste of it all.

‘Could I have a word with you, Mrs Stokes?’

As Eveleen walked out of the machine shop towards her office at the end of another shift, Jane Morgan, the trainee with Luke Manning, caught up with her.

Eveleen closed her eyes for a moment and groaned inwardly. Surely not another problem? She was so desperately tired. All she wanted to do was to go home and sleep the clock round. But she
couldn’t. She had vowed to prove that women could be as good as the male twisthands, but no-one else had all the administrative work of running the factory to attend to out of shift
hours.

‘Of course,’ she replied to Jane. ‘Come into the office.’

Once the door was shut, Jane, smiling broadly, said, ‘Mr Manning reckons I’m ready to work with another twisthand as his assistant while he trains another lass.’

‘Oh, Jane, that’s really good news.’ She smiled back at the girl. ‘You’ve just beaten me to it. Jake said only today that there’s not a lot more he can teach
me.’

The girl put her head on one side and regarded Eveleen steadily. ‘Will you be carrying on work, missis?’

Eveleen laughed and shook her head. ‘No, Jane. I’ve plenty of other work I need to catch up on. I only did it to prove a point, but it seems you have done it for me. Mind you, I
shall stay the course, just for the satisfaction of showing Bob Porter that not one, but two women have done it. However, we’ll be putting you with someone else very soon. There are several
of the young fellers gone and it’s left some of the skilled twisthands very short-handed. I’ll sort out the details with Mr Porter.’ Her heart sank a little at the prospect, but
then her resolve hardened. She was still the boss and he would have to do as she instructed.

‘Will I get more pay, missis?’

Eveleen wrinkled her brow. ‘I haven’t had time to give it much thought, Jane, to be honest. But I don’t see why not.’

‘But it’ll be less than a man’d get doing the same job, won’t it?’ There was resentment in her tone.

Slowly Eveleen said, ‘You have got a point there.’ Then, a little too impulsively, she said, ‘Yes, I agree. If you can cope on your own and do all the work that’s
expected of you, then, yes, you should be on the same wage as a man in the same position would be.’

Jane beamed. ‘Thank you, missis. I knew you’d be fair.’

‘You can’t do that. Put a woman on the same wage as a man?’ Bob Porter, when he heard of Eveleen’s latest promise, was incensed. ‘We’ll have
a riot, let alone ’em downing tools.’

‘Whyever not? If she does exactly the same work as a man.’

Bob’s lip curled. ‘Oh aye. And what happens when there’s something heavy to lift?’ Once more he mimicked a weak female. ‘Oh, can you help me? I can’t lift
that.’

‘I said,’ Eveleen repeated slowly, ‘if she does the same work as a man would do. And that’s
exactly
what I mean.’

Bob shook his head. ‘It won’t work. I tell you, it won’t work.’

He turned on his heel and left the office. Eveleen stared after him with the uncomfortable feeling that Bob Porter intended to see that her proposal had no chance of working.

‘Well, missis, I don’t reckon there’s much more I can teach yer. You could work alongside any twisthand now, like Miss Morgan.’ Jake nodded across the
aisle to where Jane was winding bobbins. The girl did not see them watching her, her gaze was intent upon her work.

Eveleen laughed and held out her hand. ‘Thank you for everything, Jake. You’ve been an excellent teacher.’

The young man grinned. ‘As good as Luke Manning?’

‘Oh, every bit as good,’ Eveleen said, her eyes twinkling mischievously. She had done it, her heart was singing. She had proved herself capable and, better still, so had Jane
Morgan.

What argument could Bob Porter possibly have now?

Eveleen found out the following morning. When she arrived at the factory, a little later than usual now that she was no longer to work a shift at the machine, she found the factory strangely
silent. Jane was the only one working, loading huge reels of yarn onto a barrow.

‘What’s happened?’ Eveleen asked her. ‘Where is everyone?’

Jane pointed. ‘Out the back. In the yard. Mr Allen’s called a union meeting.’

‘Has he indeed?’

Tight-lipped, Eveleen marched out of the back entrance to the factory and paused to take in the scene.

But it was Bob Porter who was standing on a box addressing the men thronging around him.

‘He’s gone off to war without a thought for his employees leaving an old man and a woman in charge. And you all know where
she
came from,’ he sneered. ‘She was
nowt but a worker in the inspection room.’ His voice changed, became placating. Eveleen grudgingly admired his clever oratory. ‘I’ve done me best for you all, but the place is
falling apart. We aren’t getting the orders in now. There’ll be no work for anybody soon, if it carries on.’

Unobserved, Eveleen crept closer.

‘And then she brings women in. I tell you, she’ll be trying to train ’em as twisthands next. Trying to work our machines.’

‘Well, the missis could do it, an’ all . . .’ To Eveleen’s surprise, it was Jake who raised his voice in protest. ‘If she was strong enough.’ He laughed and
those around him joined in. ‘And it’s not like me to admit that, but I’ve gotta be fair. Mrs Stokes is a worker.’

When the noise died down, Luke Manning, too, spoke up. ‘Jane Morgan’s done well an’ all. She’s a good lass.’

‘But don’t you realize?’ Bob leant towards them to emphasize his point. ‘They’re tekin’ men’s jobs, men’s livelihoods.’

There was whispering amongst his listeners until Luke asked, ‘How come? No-one’s been laid off, even though the amount of work has slackened off a bit. They’ve only taken on
women to replace the young fellers who’ve volunteered.’

‘I tell you, you – ’ Bob jabbed his finger towards Luke and glanced at Jake too – ‘are training women to take men’s jobs.’ He nodded sagely.
‘Women are cheap labour. They don’t get a man’s wages.’

‘That’s not right.’ Luke shook his head. ‘Miss Morgan said that she’s to be paid the same rate as a lad doing the same work.’

The grumbling grew louder.

‘And is that fair?’ Bob countered at once. ‘To give a
woman
equal pay to a man?’ He jabbed his finger towards them all now. ‘It’s taking away a
man’s pride. The man’s a breadwinner for his family. Always has been. Always will be.’ Bob dropped his voice and the crowd fell silent. ‘And another thing. Do you really
think that these women are going to give up their places, earning their own money, when the war’s over and all the men come home?’

The muttering rose once more in belligerent anger and, as Eveleen pushed her way to the front, fists were shaken at her and voices raised.

‘Listen. Listen to me, please.’

‘Let her speak,’ Luke shouted above the rest. ‘Let’s at least hear what she’s got to say.’

When the noise had abated, Bob Porter stepped off the box and, with a sarcastic gesture, invited her to step onto it. Eveleen found her knees were trembling. As she faced the hostile crowd, for
a moment she could not speak. Then, taking a deep breath, she said, ‘Mr Porter is quite right.’ She paused as a murmur of surprise rippled amongst the men. ‘Orders are falling off
and, yes, if it continues there won’t be enough work for everyone.’

Now they faced her silently with stony expressions.

Eveleen spoke quietly now, knowing she held their attention. ‘But there are six more men leaving us on Friday and –’ She glanced around at them all, at the faces before her she
knew so well. Working amongst them over the past weeks, she knew each and every one of them personally. And, best of all, they knew her. Perhaps these workers knew more about her now than Bob
Porter did.

She had worked with them, eaten with them, laughed with them. And she had mourned with them when the news from the Front was bad and a former workmate was reported killed. Gradually, without
realizing it themselves, they had begun to treat her as one of their own.

Eveleen had proved herself one of them.

‘– there will be more going each week until we are left with those too old to go and young boys, barely trained.’ She paused again and, now, no-one spoke.

‘You all heard what Mr Richard said before he left. When you come back, after it’s all over, your jobs will be here waiting for you. And if – if Mr Richard does not come back,
I swear to you now that I will honour his promise.’ She lowered her voice and said quietly, but with sincerity. ‘A woman will never, ever, take a man’s job. Not in this factory.
The women themselves know that. They have been employed on that basis. And, yes, I have agreed the same rate of pay for women as long as they do exactly the same work as you men.’

She paused for a few moments whilst the men talked amongst themselves, then she raised her voice. ‘Now, it’s up to you. If you decide to strike in protest,’ she shrugged her
shoulders, ‘then I can’t stop you, but I must warn you that there is less and less work coming in. Because of the war many of our overseas outlets are closed to us now. And if we cease
to operate, what work there is will go to other factories in the city.’ She paused significantly and then added, ‘I’ll leave it to you to decide.’

Further explanation was unnecessary. The men knew full well that if Reckitt and Stokes’s trade went elsewhere, even for a short time, in these difficult circumstances the factory would
never recover. They would never win back lost trade.

Eveleen stepped down from the box and without another glance at anyone she marched back into the building and went at once to her office, intending to work on orders and invoices. But she could
not concentrate and paced the floor restlessly until, after half an hour, the door was thrown open and Bob Porter stood there.

For a moment they stared at each other, he, red in the face with anger, she, her eyes wide with the unspoken question.

‘Well, missis, I hope you’re satisfied.’ His voice was tight with resentment. ‘You’ve won. You’ve beaten me in front of me own workers and made a right fool
out of me. They’ve believed you, the silly buggers.’ He shook his head in wonderment. ‘By heck, but I’ve got to hand it to you, missis. You’re clever. But one day
you’ll come unstuck, and don’t expect me to be there to pick up the pieces ’cos I’m giving you me notice here and now and—’

Eveleen shook her head. ‘Oh no, you’re not, Bob Porter. This factory needs you. The men need you. I need you. I might have proved a point over training to be a twisthand and I might
have won, as you put it, today. But I can’t run the factory. You know that very well.’

His face twisted into a sneer. ‘Well, get your precious Josh Carpenter back then.’

Eveleen shook her head. ‘No, Bob.’ She drew in a deep breath and knew she had to lie deliberately. ‘I don’t want Josh back.’

What she wouldn’t have given at this moment to have Josh walk through the door with his cheery, ‘Eh up, mi duck,’ and to know that the factory was once more in his safe
hands.

Bob shook his head. ‘Nobody makes a fool out of me, missis. I’m going and I’m going this minute. There’s plenty of other jobs in this city and, even if there
aren’t, the army’ll take me.’

He turned and pulled the door to behind him with a slam of finality.

With trembling fingers, Eveleen reached for the chair and sat down as her legs gave way beneath her, the full weight of responsibility pressing down upon her.

Bridie held out a letter to Eveleen.

‘Andrew’s still asking if we’ve been to Flawford. He’s very worried about them. You promised we could go just after Christmas and I’ve kept asking you and asking
you. And now it’s April already and we still haven’t been.’

‘Does he really think I’ve time to go traipsing over there when I’ve everything to look after here, now that Mr Stokes isn’t well and Bob Porter’s walked out on me
too?’

‘It is your grandmother and your uncle.’

‘I don’t need reminding,’ Eveleen snapped. ‘But why should I concern myself with people who turned us out when we desperately needed help? A man who turned his back on
his own daughter and has made no effort in over thirteen years to meet his granddaughter?’

Bridie looked down at the letter in her hand, at Andrew’s sprawling writing. She folded it carefully to put it away in her treasure box, yet knowing it would be brought out time and again
to be read and reread just like the others she had received from him. His letters kept him close to her, told her he was still alive, still surviving.

She looked up at her aunt. ‘If you haven’t time to go –’ the accusation in her voice was ill-concealed – ‘then I’ll go.’

Eveleen stared at her for a moment and then gave a wry, humourless laugh. ‘Good luck to you then. You’ll certainly need it.’ She relented a little to say, ‘I’ll get
Fred to take you.’

Then she sighed. ‘The people we really ought to visit are your gran and Josh. We haven’t been for ages. I tell you what,’ her face was suddenly brighter, ‘we’ll go
on Sunday and we’ll talk to your gran about Flawford.’