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Back Sisters of Gold
Chapters (64)
  1. Cover
  2. Title page
  3. Dedication page
  4. A Week’s Work in Birmingham
  5. I
  6. One
  7. Two
  8. Three
  9. Four
  10. Five
  11. Six
  12. Seven
  13. Eight
  14. Nine
  15. Ten
  16. Eleven
  17. Twelve
  18. Thirteen
  19. Fourteen
  20. Fifteen
  21. Sixteen
  22. Seventeen
  23. Eighteen
  24. Nineteen
  25. Twenty
  26. Twenty-One
  27. Twenty-Two
  28. Twenty-Three
  29. Twenty-Four
  30. II
  31. Twenty-Five
  32. Twenty-Six
  33. Twenty-Seven
  34. Twenty-Eight
  35. Twenty-Nine
  36. Thirty
  37. Thirty-One
  38. Thirty-Two
  39. Thirty-Three
  40. Thirty-Four
  41. Thirty-Five
  42. Thirty-Six
  43. Thirty-Seven
  44. Thirty-Eight
  45. Thirty-Nine
  46. III
  47. Forty
  48. Forty-One
  49. Forty-Two
  50. Forty-Three
  51. Forty-Four
  52. Forty-Five
  53. Forty-Six
  54. Forty-Seven
  55. Forty-Eight
  56. Forty-Nine
  57. Fifty
  58. Fifty-One
  59. Fifty-Two
  60. Fifty-Three
  61. Acknowledgements
  62. Further Reading
  63. About the Author
  64. By the Same Author

‘Oh, it was a pleasure,’ Margaret said. Somehow in Philip Tallis’s presence she felt light, wispy almost, and disconcertingly female. ‘She’s a lovely girl and very talented. You’re welcome to come again, Daisy.’

‘Thank you, Miss Hanson,’ the girl said formally.

Margaret said goodbye to them both and Philip Tallis saw her to the door.

‘Goodnight,’ he said.

And his voice, like his smile, affected her. Was it he who had made that thing of utter beauty that she had seen before? Outside, she stood for a moment in the chill evening, remembering. Am I so susceptible? she thought. Only yesterday she had been curious about Mr Carson. They were both men who seemed to exude character. They each had a power to them.

But for heaven’s sake! she thought. What was she thinking – after all that had happened, after him? The pain of it all filled her again; the way Charles Barber had taken and trounced her hungry young heart.

I must guard myself well, she thought, stepping back into number twenty-six. Men are not to be trusted – we are better off remaining spinsters and finding useful things to do.

Twenty-Three

Twenty-Three

As the months passed, Charles’s attention had become increasingly fixed on Margaret – and hers on him. By the summer, they had shared many walks and conversations. Her health rapidly improved and she started helping in the village school again and teaching in the Sunday classes at the Zion chapel.

She sat through services in the chapel on bright summer Sundays struggling to discipline her thoughts to prayer. But Charles, sitting sideways at the front of the church, was all that filled her mind and her besotted heart. She spent whole hours trying to conceal the fact that her gaze was fixed on his profile, the pale skin, dark hair and solemn expression of one who has deep knowledge of the spiritual. Charles had a way of rolling his eyes heavenwards as if possessed of unearthly visions.

‘Well, that’s a good trick,’ Annie said once, irreverent as ever. ‘I’m surprised Father doesn’t have a go at that. It makes him look awfully holy.’

‘Annie, you’re so . . .’ Margaret swallowed her rage. Annie was so cynical! She believed Charles was holy. He was the most astonishing person she had ever met. And her father was also deeply involved with Charles Barber. Charles, passionately devout, was to be the son he had lost; was to fulfil the visions of service that her father had hoped for himself.

‘Just because you’re mad about him,’ Annie retorted. ‘It doesn’t mean he’s perfect. I wouldn’t have him bossing me about the way he does you.’