Factory Girl

My mother had named me Florence at my birth although we never used it in our family of three and tended to shorten it to Flo instead. I’ve never seen the likes of my father, and my mother daren’t utter a word about him in fear that we might ask questions about him. I have no need to find out about my father though for he is not here to find out about and I look too much like for mother to have a simple idea of how he looked although I always imagined him to tower over my mum, sister and I and he would be a mysterious being too. I’m sure I would be disappointed if I ever was to meet him.

My eyes are like the blue sky on a stormy day and my skin, when not covered in grime, is as pale as someone who’s never seen the light of day. My hair is that of honey and comes down in ringlets to frame my childish face when I leave it naturally and do not style it in the fashion of the day. I remember it always being tightly pinned to your skull and so uncomfortable that you felt as if you could not move the tiniest bit. I tended to leave my hair down and would only style it loosely as not to pull out the roots from my head.

My sister however has hair as black as coal and always styled, eyes as green as the sea and skin as tanned as a carpenter who’s spent all day working at his wood in the sun. She was very like my mother in that she relished the attention of males. These men however were more attracted to me, they shadowed me around in swarms, buzzing like flies which when swatted away would come back to annoy you more.

I couldn’t take my distracted mind off my home with a warming fire as I looked around the cold factory with many other ladies doing the same jobs day after day. I’d take newly sewed cotton tops from my left and start to sew on the smallest, coloured beads in the most intricate designs, place it in the basket to my right for the next lady who would iron and fold them neatly, ready to be sold, and then I’d have to pick up another newly sewed cotton top from my left. It was body numbing work and by that I mean that firstly it would numb your mind, stopping you from thinking anything else apart from what you were doing, then it would numb your fingers from handling the small beads and the thin needles and then it would finally numb your feet for standing on them instead of opting for the chairs that were unstable when you sat upon them.

I heard the loud booming voice of the gentleman that owned the workhouse, who supplied my sister and I with shelter, food and some money to send back to our mother, I looked up to see him standing high on the steps ready to call us to dinner. Most would call him handsome in his extravagant clothing but I only saw his arrogance.

Behind the handsome gentleman was a younger handsome gentleman who I’ve never seen before. He was of similar age as myself but instead of wearing the drab, dark clothes I and everyone else wore, he had a neat, unruffled suit upon his elegantly held body. He reminded me somewhat of a deer, his stature was composed and graceful but his eyes were wider than I’d ever seen anyone’s eyes before; big brown eyes that looked over us all with a questioning look, then a disapproving look and finally a saddened look so I couldn’t even imagine how all those emotions were connected as he looked over us.

“This is my son, my son who shall be running this company when I am aged. My son will be observing how you work and you must answer any questions my son inquires of you. Any objections?” no one objected out of the hundreds of women in the room. “Good, now get back to work.” His deafening voice still rang out in my ears after he’d left but then the sound of shoes of the younger gentleman clicking down the metal staircase. I daren’t look up and no one in the room dared to speak as he walked around the room with his supple hands clasped behind his back.

“Do you not talk as you work? I’m sure I heard many voices before my father and I entered the room…” we all heard his soft voice although none replied, some looked about themselves to see what others thought of his words whereas others kept their heads down. I didn’t raise my head as his shoes began clicking on the cold stone floor around us but instead watched the needle pierce the fabric of the top I was holding over and over again and watched the beads being pulled tightly against the fabric of the top I was holding.

It wasn’t long before the clicking of the shoes stopped at my work table. The clicking had stopped at other tables before it had stopped at mine and I wonder now whether those girl’s hearts raced as much as mine did at the precise moment.
“And what might your name be?” his voice was so smooth and relaxing but it didn’t smooth out my jumbled thoughts or relax my beating heart but instead made my own voice sound insecure.

“Flo Sir,” stuttered I.
“Flo by birth?”
“No, Florence by birth Sir.”
“Do you like it here Miss Florence?”
“Yes Sir.”
“Why’s that?”
I hesitated for an answer but finally settled on the truth. “… it makes my mother proud Sir.”

“Wouldn’t you rather to be at home with your mother? At such a young age shouldn’t you be at school?” He lent against the hard wooden table as he said the words and tried to look into my eyes although I couldn’t and wouldn’t look at him for I was shyer than a rabbit in the gorse bushes.

“Well sir, if I’m allowed to say so, schooling isn’t free no more and my ma can’t pay for me to have any more education so I work here to help her put food on the table and clothes on our backs.”
“I see… would you like an education miss?” I pondered on this, who does not want for an education that can get you somewhere better, an education that can make you a more respected person or an education that takes up your free time in which you ponder why you are not somewhere better or why you are not a respected person.

“No Sir, education is pointless for me now as I’m much too far behind.”
“What about if I introduced education for you and the other girls here? You could all learn together… would you not like that?”
“I would like that sir and I would be tremendously grateful sir, but if I may say so, we would get much too far behind on our work here and for someone like myself who needs the money to help out their family it is not going to be much of a benefit.” Only then did I realise my mistake and did I drop my eyes to inspect the detailed groves of the wooden table I worked at. “Sorry Sir, I did not mean to be so rude and out-spoken.”

“No Miss Florence. I quite enjoy your honesty as I’m sure not many of the girls in this room would be as brave as you. I’m very humble to your opinion and I shall remember you when I begin the running of my father’s business for you made some very valid points. You are an intriguing girl Florence and I would very much like it if we could speak some more but I believe it is time for your dinner.” He righted himself from his slanted position across my work desk and hollered to the room. “Thank you tremendously for letting me observe how you work and for answering my questions which I’m sure you answered with the most truth but probably with more loyalty to my father’s business. I very much enjoyed meeting you all, however briefly and I hope perhaps one day I’ll be able to convince my father to let me visit you all again. Your dinner is ready so you may finish your garment and proceed to the eating hall in an orderly and quiet fashion.” He then turned his big brown eyes back to me and with a courteous smile he nodded and said, “until next time Miss Florence.” I smiled shyly back with all the nerves of the world in the pit of my stomach all fluttering around like butterflies and making me feel terribly ill. I was sure I would not be able to eat the dinner that would be served to us and I knew that I would not be going up for seconds.
I followed the other women through the doors and long passageway to the eating hall to join the boys and men who had spent their day working at the machinery.

We had but an hour to eat our mutton and beef-suet puddings seeing as it was a Thursday. It was a good day as we also got a serving of vegetables to savour. Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday had already tediously passed in a dismal and depressing way. Tomorrow was the absolute best day of the week as I’d get to see my mother, give her my proud earnings and receive an apple in thanks for that was all she could afford but never the less I’d always look forward to those Fridays mainly because they were so few. I sat down in my hard chair with my plate of mutton and beef-suet puddings opposite my sister who only grinned widely at me.
“How many garments did you manage to prepare today?” I asked nonchalantly trying to avoid the subject I knew she would want to speak of.

“Enough to make a few shillings, but tell me Flo, what did he talk to you about?”
“You made quite a lot then?” She only looked at me with her eyebrows raised to her hairline so high that I feared she would lose them. I exhaled slowly to show that I did not wish to discuss the same subject as she wished to discuss.

“Very well then Jo. The young gentleman only asked me whether or not I believed an education would be good for us here.”

“An education, but what need would you have of that when we’re just sewing and stitching?” she replied in a most unimpressed and disappointed tone.

“I don’t know Jo, but I don’t know a lot of things, Jo. I don’t know whether we’ll be cramped behind these walls for the rest of our living lives. I don’t know why neither of us know our father or why our Ma never speaks of him. And I certainly don’t know why the young gentleman would want to ask me of all people about education. Which are probably good reasons with which to pursue such an education because we might find the answers to all those things we don’t know; although I admit, it seems pointless now.”

“What do you think of him Flo? I’m thinking he’s quite handsome.” I thought for a second, what did I think of the young gentleman? Yes, he was handsome and he definitely made my nerves jump to life when he came near but I doubted that was to do with how I felt about him and more to do with who his father was. But, there was something about him which made him different to every other male in this room apart from who his father was. Perhaps it was just because he talked to me. If he did not talk to me I would most probably just see him as a handsome young gentleman who would speak to me only if he necessarily had to. But he had spoken to me and I saw no force behind it which showed me he did not want to speak to me and so that led me to believe he actually wanted to speak to me. Of course, being so young and naïve I did not take into account that he spoke to other girls too and made their hearts leap and their stomachs feel all light and funny and I did not take into account that he would also be speaking to the men and boys and probably do the same to them.
“Yes Jo, he is quite handsome, but I do not think he is that special,” I lied as my stomach finally and slowly began to settle down.