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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

‘I’m afraid he’ll have to be identified all the same,’ the policeman continued. Margaret thought, what a terrible job. Was he sorry, she wondered, this burly young man? He did sound it, a little. And how had Wilfred Poole ended up in the canal? Was it some terrible accident?

‘You’ll need to come to Steelhouse Lane – that’s where they’ve got ’im. Not now – in the morning will do.’

‘No! Now – I want to go now. I don’t believe you!’ Mary Poole was screaming, beside herself. ‘If it’s ’im, there must’ve been some dirty business. Someone must’ve pushed ’im in! My Wilf would never’ve taken his own life – he was a God-fearing man!’

Out of the corner of her eye, Margaret saw Den appear silently from the shadows. In that reflex of his, the way he had disappeared, she could see how he had evaded the wag man from the school for so long.

‘Listen, Mrs Poole,’ Aunt Hatt was saying and Margaret could hear the emotion in her voice. ‘I’ll come with you. Margaret, Annie – you stay here with the children, get them fed. But save some for their mother. She’s going to need it.’

And with that, to the astonishment of the sisters, their Aunt Hatt helped Mary Poole into her coat and the two of them stepped out into the rainy night with the two police constables.

Thirty-Nine

Thirty-Nine

When Aunt Hatt walked into twenty-six Chain Street, much later that night, she sank down at the table in her wet coat, laid her head down on her arms and quietly began to weep. Margaret and Annie were soon crying as well, having held back their tears until they reached home, but needing release after the awful sadness of the evening that had just passed. Aunt Hatt had come back to Pope Street from the police station with Mary Poole, and then the three of them had walked home in a heavy silence.

Uncle Eb, who had in the first instant been highly indignant, wondering where on earth they had all got to, melted at the sight of his wife’s grief.

‘Eh, my little pet – whatever’s the matter?’ He hurried to her and stroked her back. ‘Where’ve you all been? You’re wet through, Hatt – you must get out of these clothes or you’ll catch your death!’

But Aunt Hatt was not ready to be budged so quickly. Margaret, with tears on her own cheeks, managed to explain. Annie had her hands over her face.

‘They got the right feller then?’ Uncle Eb asked.