BooksBarbecue
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

Many of the girls were young and they talked to each other and to Lizzie, but never to her. One or two would give her a nod, but they were not welcoming or polite. They just ignored her, eyeing her from a distance as she went in to work. After a while she could see that they were not really hostile but just shy. They sensed that she was different and did not know what to say to her. The only one she had anything to do with was Lizzie, who would give her a hollow-eyed smile as they arrived at their presses and a ‘see yer tomorrow’ sometimes as they left.

But it knocked Annie’s confidence. For the first time in her life she felt inadequate. How was she supposed to preach the love of God among these rushing, harried women when she could barely even manage a conversation? Once I prove I can do the work, it will be different, Annie thought, turning the handle of her press with all her energy, trying to get the blanks stamped out faster and faster. Sometimes, with a great feeling of triumph, she knew she had done enough – more than enough – in the hour. The problem was trying to keep this up for every hour of the day. Often, as they stood in the long room, light falling through the windows, her back, feet and head all aching and longing for a drink of water, she wanted to walk out, for it all just to stop.

But she had to keep going, she told herself. Somehow, she had to do God’s work. That was what she had come here for, wasn’t it?

The blanks poured from the machines into piles like metal chaff. Her fingers were raw but she ignored the pain in them. Each week, she was getting faster. She worked on, like a little dynamo, in the certainty of being an instrument of God’s glory.

At the end of her third week, Miss Hinks approached her.

‘Well,’ she said stiffly. ‘You’ve come on a bit since you started, I’ll say that for yer. You’re a good worker and you’ve reached your quota. You can go on piecework from next week.’

Annie nodded, lowering her eyes. She did not show it, but she was thrilled. She had proved she could do the job like the others!

‘Thank you, Miss Hinks,’ she said carefully, getting up from her stool to leave.

‘Don’t forget you’ve got to come in tomorrow,’ Miss Hinks said, in her grim way. ‘You’ve got your machine to clean – remember?’

‘Yes, Miss Hinks,’ Annie said humbly.