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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

And Pope Street after sundown seemed to Annie the darkest, most threatening place she had ever been. They moved away from the main factories of the quarter into long, mean side streets, poorly lit, with rough, uneven cobbles in the road and the houses like black crouching shapes in the gathering dusk. It was a cool night and a stinking fog was gathering, yellow tinged, blurring the edges of everything. At intervals, she saw the blacker, yawning mouths of alleyways, or entries as they were called here, looking like places for deeds that the eye would not want to see. There were a few people, men mostly, standing smoking or slouched against the wall as if waiting, in a way that she could only think sinister. The light was fading fast now and she was glad of Lizzie beside her.

Arm in arm, they passed along the darkening pavements, amid the people hurrying from the factories and workshops towards hearths and evening meals. Lights were on in the many pubs and Annie regarded them with as much horror as she did Catholics. She had had to get used to the idea that her uncle spent several hours each week in his favourite watering hole, the Jewellers’ Arms. Alcohol never touched the lips of her family who looked upon public houses as the cradles of evil deeds and family neglect.

She shuddered as a gust of air, loud with raucous voices and laced with beer and tobacco, burned inside her nostrils like the harsh stink of sin. The night-time streets shocked and frightened her and she held herself tightly as a defence against them.

Lizzie revived a little in the fresh air, but after a few minutes she had to stop and rest, leaning against a wall.

‘I dunno how I’m gunna get in tomorrow,’ she muttered faintly. ‘I feel that bad.’

‘Oh, Lizzie,’ Annie said. ‘You’re very poorly – you must stay in bed.’

‘Huh.’ Lizzie made a bitter sound, almost a laugh. ‘How d’yer think I can stay in bed? If I don’t work, no one’ll eat. Mom’s worse than me.’

Annie stared at her in horror. Lizzie was bent over, pressing her hands on her thighs. Standing upright made her feel sicker.

‘But Lizzie, what about your father? Doesn’t he keep the family?’

‘He’s . . . gone.’ It was costing her to speak.

Gone. Harsh, judgemental thoughts filled Annie’s mind. An abandoned family!

‘And . . . who is in your family?’

‘Our mom – and my brother and sisters . . .’