PUBLICATION SPECIAL: NEW BEGINNINGS FOR THE SURPLUS GIRLS BY POLLY HERON

I have loved every Surplus Girls book and New Beginnings is no exception. I was drawn into Jess’s story from the moment she appeared on the page. Her position as a working woman with a responsible job, but absolutely no security of tenure when a man came along, made me really think what pioneers the career girls of the 1920s were. The suffragettes may have won us the vote, but the ability of women to prove themselves at work was just as important, although of course we had to wait another fifty years for the Equal Pay Act and even now do not have true equality in every workplace.

The history behind The Surplus Girls books is expertly and meticulously researched, from the big issues like these to the slang names for particular cakes. Each and every detail sings from the page, which is why you feel you are actually there, sitting on the slightly worn sofas of Wilton Road in a suitably genteel manner, chatting to old friends and new.

This is the book that pulls all the strands of the Hesketh sisters’ stories together into a really satisfying ending. No graduate of their school is forgotten in the final chapters, and Jess’s seemingly impossible dilemma is solved as well. A fabulous read.

 

The backdrop to the whole series is the place of women in the world of work, so I asked Polly Heron what sort of research went into it in order to create a variety of different employments in such rich detail.

 

The Surplus Girls series explores the predicament faced by many young women in the aftermath of the Great War. They had grown up expected by society to marry and become housewives and mothers. Then came the war – and a generation of young men perished. Many women lost their sweethearts or fiancés while others, without knowing it, lost the men they would have married had they ever had the chance to meet. This meant that many girls now faced a future in which they would have to provide for themselves, while being regarded as ‘on the shelf’ or ‘old maids’.

The world of work offered women far fewer opportunities than came the way of men. Moreover, a woman doing the same job as a man would typically earn one third less. It was legal to refuse to employ a woman simply because she was a woman and it was considered patriotic to employ a former soldier even if a female candidate would have been more suited to the job. During an interview, an unmarried woman could expect to be grilled about her marriage prospects, because should she marry, the expectation would be that she would leave in order to be a housewife. In plenty of jobs, marriage automatically meant dismissal.

In The Surplus Girls series, I have explored various jobs that would have been open to girls and women in the early 1920s. Each book has a different heroine whom the story centres around, but one of the things that links the books together is that each heroine attends a business school to learn secretarial skills.

I loved delving into the social history of the time and seeking out suitable roles for my characters – ‘suitable’ meaning appropriate to the time, not necessarily the right job for the character personally – as Nancy finds out to her cost in Christmas with the Surplus Girls. In the newly published fourth book, New Beginnings for the Surplus Girls, Jess makes a particularly interesting heroine, as she sees herself as a career woman, not an unfortunate surplus girl. She dreams of creating a successful working life for herself but has to cope with all the disadvantages that women faced at the time.

 

 

 

The Surplus Girls by Polly Heron

I’ve been excited about The Surplus Girls ever since fellow Sister Scribe Susanna Bavin (writing for Corvus as Polly Heron) told me about the concept over a year ago. It is just such a brilliant idea to write about the lives of these neglected women, living in the aftermath of the first world war, in the form of a series of sagas.

The surplus girls were, quite simply, the women who lost fiancés and boyfriends (or even just potential partners) in the war. Whatever their class they had been brought up to expect marriage and children, but now there were not enough men to go around and they were ill prepared for any other sort of life. Most would need to find gainful employment with little or no training, and all would have to look for other ways to make their lives as fulfilling as possible.

The Surplus Girls is set in the suburbs of Manchester in the early 1920s, with a cast of characters from both working and middle classes. Belinda Layton, a mill worker, lives with her late fiancé’s family and after four years of deep mourning is beginning to feel a little smothered by their kindness and intense grief. Belinda’s own family is even further down the social scale, living hand-to-mouth as her feckless father drinks away what little they have.

When Belinda bumps into her old teacher she hears the term ‘surplus girls’ for the first time and is forced to consider her future, beginning to dream of leaving the mill and working in an office. At first this seems hopeless, but then she is introduced to spinster sisters, Prudence and Patience Hesketh, who have their own reasons for opening a business school for young ladies.

Polly Heron has a rare talent for portraying the atmosphere of a setting with a few carefully selected sentences, which never detract from the pace of the plot. And pacey plot it is, making The Surplus Girls hard to put down.  The detail of the era is there, forming a rich background tapestry, but I never once felt I was bogged down by it. While I could see, hear and breathe the world the characters inhabited, as I reader I was free to enjoy being transported there and immerse myself in their story. And it takes a great deal of skill for an author to achieve that.

SISTER SCRIBES: SUSANNA BAVIN ON A CHANGE OF NAME

In common with many women, I have gone through the process of a name change. I have twice gone through the hassle of changing my surname. Incidentally, if ever you have to send away your marriage certificate, do include in your covering letter a specific instruction that the certificate should be returned to you after the admin people have finished with it. Some years ago, I blithely sent off my marriage certificate… and it wasn’t returned. Not only that, but no one in the office could track it down. In the end, it transpired that someone had stashed it away in the safe – and all because I hadn’t given a specific instruction to return it!

Anyway, I am in the process of having another change of name, but this time it is to introduce a new pen name – Polly Heron – and it’s because I have a new publisher – Corvus, which is the commercial fiction imprint of Atlantic Books. The Corvus list includes women’s fiction, romance, historical fiction, sci-fi, crime and thrillers. As a saga writer, I’m not sure whether I come under ‘historical’ or ‘romance.’ Possibly a bit of both.

My first book for Corvus is the start of a series. Both the series and the first book are called The Surplus Girls. So who were the surplus girls, exactly?

They were the generation of young women, who, after the Great War, were left without the possibility of marriage, because of the appalling death toll exacted on the battlefields. This was at a time when marriage to a man who could support you and the children you would have, was pretty well universally regarded as the correct and desirable aim for any girl. So these young women, whose possible husbands had perished, found themselves – unexpectedly and without preparation – in the position of facing a future of providing for themselves. Not only that, but no woman could hope to earn as much as a man, even a man doing the same job (sounds familiar?).

Writing about the 1920s is something I have done before, in two of my books written as Susanna Bavin – The Deserter’s Daughter and A Respectable Woman. Although the decade was all but a century ago, to me it feels very close. My parents weren’t exactly spring chickens when they had their children and they were themselves born in the 1920s, so it is an era I grew up hearing about when family tales were told and, of course, I have family photographs as well.

It is in some ways perhaps a bit odd to write about surplus girls in the context of a saga in which, by definition, the heroine will end up with the hero and therefore no longer be a surplus girl, but I hope I have also conveyed both the universal shock and sorrow that pervaded society at the loss of such a large number of men and also the way that these losses brought the lives of individual girls and women into a new, sharper focus as they faced life on their own.