Cliffehaven 19.A Place Called Home by Ellie Dean

Author:Ellie Dean [Ellie Dean]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781804942567
Publisher: Cornerstone
Published: 2023-03-16T00:00:00+00:00

12

The smaller of Solly Goldman’s two factories had been set up towards the end of the war in a fair-sized unit that had once been used to make parachutes. There were good facilities as Solly was a great believer in keeping his workers happy so they didn’t disrupt his profit margins – but also because he hated conflict, and had realised that contented workers were less likely to go on strike.

There was a cloakroom with lavatories and wash basins as well as lockers and pegs for clothes, and a small recreation room with tables and chairs for those who didn’t want to go to the large communal canteen during their breaks.

The main body of the factory was a vast room with a vaulted tin roof which contained lines of work stations for the machinists beneath the bright hanging lights. There were heaters set up for when winter came, and a loud-speaker system had been put in place so the women could listen to the BBC Light Programme as they worked.

The cutting table was placed at the back of the room and behind that was a door leading to a warehouse filled with bolts of cloth, and a smaller room for checking the quality of the garments before they left the building. This, in turn, led to a wide metal door that could be rolled up to reveal a ramp and loading bay where the lorries came to load the stock for sale, and unload the bolts of fabric.

Peggy’s office was a self-contained area partitioned off with hardboard to one side of the main room. She had a door she could lock, and there was a broad window looking out over the factory floor so she could keep an eye on what was happening, and a smaller one which gave her a view of the bomb site that had once been a council estate. It wasn’t the best view in the world, but at least she could open the window when it got too warm.

The small room wasn’t sound-proofed, so she worked to the constant background noise of whirring machines, wireless programmes and the loud chatter of the machinists. However, she barely noticed it any more and felt quite at home with her desk, comfortable chair, filing cabinets and telephone. There was a spider plant thriving in a pot on the windowsill, and a large calendar and clock on the wall along with a huge board showing all the workers’ names and the times of their shifts.

Peggy had had very little opportunity to think about anything other than her work this morning, for it had taken the first half-hour to sort out a minor accident in the washroom, another to follow up accusations of pilfering from the cloakroom which turned out to be a case of forgetfulness on the part of the complainant, and the rest to sorting through the sales and purchase invoices with the accountant – of which there were many.

The factory was doing very well now they were

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