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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

Why ever didn’t he bring the coats in to dry by the fire? she thought, irritated at his lack of practicality. Feeling her way about, she could make out that he had just thrown them in a pile on a chair near the window. She tutted, feeling the soggy wool. The damp had just seeped between one and the other and they were no drier at all.

She was gathering them up into her arms when she heard the door close, very softly. As she walked towards it, there came the sound of a key turning in the lock.

In the first seconds, her mind did not take this in. She heard the sound but could not connect it with the present. Going to the door, she turned the handle. There was no movement. She pulled, yanked the handle, dropping the coats on the floor, then banged her hands on the wood.

‘Charles! Charles – I seem to be shut in here! Come and let me out!’

Trying to make sense of it, her heart pounding, she was full of confusion. The old lady had talked about locking herself in. Was she more crazed than she looked? Had she come and turned the key for some deranged reason of her own?

‘Charles!’ her voice rose to a wail. They had to go – they must go and catch the train! ‘Come and let me out – I’m locked in.’

But the house was strangely silent. And no one came.

Forty-Nine

Forty-Nine

She stood by the door in the darkening room. Disbelief and confusion swiftly turned to panic and rage. Locked in – a prisoner! Who had crept to the door like that and turned the key? Was it the old lady, or had it been Charles? What was going on? Why did no one answer and come and let her out?

Raising her hands, she hammered and hammered on the door until the palms of her hands and her fists were sore.

‘Let me out!’ she called. ‘How dare you lock me in here!’ Her emotions swelled and boiled over. She began to shout and scream more than ever in her life before. ‘I want to go home – let me out of here!’ She was full of desperate longing to be away from here, to be back with her aunt and uncle. Why in heaven’s name had she agreed to come with Charles, and what was going on in the other room? Did the old lady have some hold on him? Was she as mad as she had looked when she spoke to Margaret? Or was it he who had brought her here, scheming all the while?