The Sugar Girls: Tales of Hardship, Love and Happiness in Tate & Lyle’s East End. Duncan Barrett

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СКАЧАТЬ attempted to sit back down on the bed and felt a sharp pain around the tops of her legs as the material pinched her skin. She ate her breakfast standing up, before hobbling painfully down the stairs.

      At work, Maisie regarded her pityingly. ‘Oh dear,’ she said. ‘You didn’t take the dungarees in before you put them in the laundry, did you? They always shrink the first time you wash them.’

      Gladys spent the morning standing rigidly at her machine, trying not to breathe in too deeply and dreading the inevitable moment when Miss Smith would come by on her daily round. When she saw the matronly form entering the room, she rolled her eyes. ‘Here we go,’ she muttered to herself.

      ‘Gladys Taylor,’ said Miss Smith, with undisguised pleasure, ‘I know you’re intent on making an impression here, but how on earth do you expect to bend over in those?’

      By Friday, Gladys was almost beginning to feel at home in the Blue Room. She might not have been as glamorous as the other girls there, but they seemed to have accepted her as the department’s token tomboy. She had even proved useful by piercing a few of the girls’ ears in the toilets, and at break times she had begun to join the reel boys in a game of football in the yard rather than spending all her time chatting in the café.

      After a week of trials and tribulations, she felt she had been well and truly initiated into life at the factory. But the reel boys had other ideas.

      Among Tate & Lyle’s male workforce, the tradition of initiation rituals was strongly embedded, and usually involved sugar or syrup being poured down the new recruit’s trousers. Girls weren’t generally subjected to this sort of thing, but Gladys had unwittingly set herself up as fair game. So what was the appropriate initiation for a boyish girl?

      Barry, Joey, Johnny and Robbie put their heads together. It couldn’t be anything too mean, they reasoned, or they’d look like bullies. But Gladys didn’t seem like the kind who’d burst into tears at a bit of good old-fashioned fun, either.

      ‘I’ve got it,’ said Joey, with a sparkle in his eye. ‘The telpher.’

      The telpher was a large wooden crate which went around the outside of the building on a cable, carrying items from one department to another. It made its journeys a good twenty feet in the air and was most certainly not designed for human cargo.

      The others looked at him apprehensively. ‘What if she breaks it and falls out?’ asked Barry.

      ‘Nah, she won’t,’ insisted Joey. ‘She’ll be safe as houses.’

      The boys bided their time until after breakfast, when they saw Julie McTaggart go into the office to talk to Peggy Burrows. A quick wink between them signalled the moment, and once again Joey was dispatched to distract the unsuspecting Gladys.

      ‘I think your ink duct needs refilling,’ said Joey, struggling to keep a straight face.

      ‘Oh yeah,’ said Gladys, raising her eyebrows. ‘What are you buggers up to this time?’

      She turned and caught sight of Barry and Johnny attempting to sneak up behind her. ‘Oh no you don’t!’ she called, setting off at a sprint across the room. ‘You’ll have to catch me first!’

      The boys gave chase after Gladys, whose years spent playing football in Beckton Road Park had made her a lithe and speedy runner. As she zigzagged in and out of the machines she elicited cheers of ‘Go, Gladys!’ from the other girls. But with four boys to contend with she eventually found herself cornered.

      ‘You won’t find nothing in my turban but my brothers’ old socks,’ Gladys told them.

      ‘Oh no, we’ve got other ideas for you,’ Barry replied, as they scooped her up and carried her to the opening for the telpher.

      ‘You’re going on a little trip,’ said Joey as they deposited her into the crate.

      ‘Oh am I?’ said Gladys. ‘Fair enough then. I quite fancied some air!’

      She waved as the telpher set off on its jaunty journey and the boys waved back, clutching their sides with laughter. Gladys sat back in the crate, taking in the view of the sky while it made its way along the cable. It wasn’t a bad way to get out of work for a while, she thought to herself, although it was probably best not to look down.

      Eventually the telpher arrived back where it had started. Gladys scrambled to her feet to alight from the crate. ‘Anyone else fancy a ride?’ she called cheerily. Then her heart sank.

      Waiting for her by the opening was Miss Smith. ‘My office,’ she commanded. ‘Now.’

      4

      Ethel

      Up in the Hesser Floor office, Ethel was settling in well. She was thrilled to have taken her first step up the company ladder, and keen as ever to live up to her mother’s high expectations. The office work was dull, but much easier than the physical labour of manning the machines. Her duties included calculating the overall tonnage of sugar packed by the department, checking the time-keeping records for the girls on the factory floor and liaising with the delivery department about how much sugar was ready to be sent out.

      There were no typewriters in the office, so all the writing was done by hand. Ethel’s friend Joanie Warren, along with two other girls – Iris Lawrence and Beryl Craven – would sit hunched over their desks, scribbling away under the watchful eye of the forelady, Ivy Batchelor. Ethel found she clicked much more naturally with the girls in the office than the rough-and-ready types on the factory floor, and soon started going out with her new friends to the Imperial cinema in Canning Town or to the roller-skating rink at Forest Gate.

      But while her social life was improving, Ethel’s love life had hit a new obstacle. One by one the boys in her old gang had begun to volunteer for the forces. First Johnny went into the Air Force, then Alf and Lenny signed up with the Army. Ethel knew the inevitable was coming, and sure enough, her beloved Archie soon followed in their footsteps, becoming a private in the Royal West Kent regiment. He was sent to Germany, and from then on the two young lovers only got to see each other every six months, although they wrote to one another devotedly every day.

      One evening, Ethel was surprised by a visit from a neighbour – the only resident of Oriental Road who owned a telephone – announcing that there was a young man on the line for her. She rushed next door and grabbed the receiver, thrilled at the prospect of hearing Archie’s voice, but terrified that something might be wrong. What was so urgent that it couldn’t wait for a letter?

      ‘Arch?’ she shouted down the line. ‘Is everything all right?’

      There was a pause, and then she heard a voice she hadn’t expected.

      ‘Um, hello, Et. It’s Len here.’

      ‘Oh, Len …’ Ethel hadn’t seen Lenny Bridges since the boys had all signed up together. ‘What are you doing ringing me?’

      ‘I wanted to ask you something,’ Lenny replied, hesitantly.

      ‘Yes?’

      ‘Well, СКАЧАТЬ