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Back Sisters of Gold Save as PDF
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

Margaret was sitting on the bed, still in her nightgown, hair in a thick plait over her shoulder. She bent her legs up towards her, wrapping her arms round them. She felt defensive and flustered as Annie’s gaze burned into her.

‘It’s just for once,’ she said. ‘Daisy asked me. Said they wanted me to go. It’s the only time they really get some leisure together.’

‘But why not this afternoon?’ Annie said.

‘I don’t know,’ Margaret replied, beginning to feel snappish with her sister. After all, it was on her conscience, not Annie’s, wasn’t it? And she did feel guilty, she couldn’t deny it. ‘They always go on Sunday mornings, that’s all.’

‘Well, I’m going to church,’ Annie said, yanking the comb through her hair. Her chin seemed to look even more pointed in the mirror this morning. ‘I never thought you’d be the one to break away!’

‘I’m not breaking away!’ Margaret argued. ‘It’s just this once.’ Annie had an uncomfortable habit of being able to prod at her most uneasy feelings.

‘Well,’ Annie said sniffily, pulling her boots on with a clatter, ‘please yourself. Run after every male who comes your way. I’m going to have some porridge.’

Margaret stayed on the bed, shaken. She was torn between fury with Annie and utter panic. Was Annie right? Was she weak and easily swayed? Was this some path to perdition that she was setting out on? Annie had witnessed what happened with Charles Barber. At the thought of him, Margaret’s doubts mounted even more. How could she trust anyone ever again – or trust herself? Especially if what it meant was giving up her life’s habits and commitments . . .

I didn’t go to church very often when I was ill, she thought. And the sky didn’t fall in.

‘Heavenly Father,’ she whispered. ‘It’s really just this once . . . To please a lonely man and a child . . . Not because I am abandoning You.’ But her conscience nagged: Will this man be the cause of you slipping away? . . . He does not hold fast to the faith. He is not one of us. ‘One of us.’ A phrase of her father’s. He will lure you away, to a place where you don’t recognize yourself.

She thought about dressing quickly and following Annie to Carrs Lane after all. But another thought came. Charles had seemed the ideal, the pattern of faith, of all that she might hope for of love and marriage . . . For a second, despite everything, the memory of him seemed like a safe, familiar haven. Charles, the real Charles, not the ferocious brute she had encountered that night. Should she write back to him, reply to that letter in which he begged her forgiveness? She felt a moment of longing for all the old certainties.