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

The boy picked up a bucket of ordure with a clank and disappeared outside. Annie saw with another shock that he had nothing on his feet. She stood rocking from side to side, trying to pacify the child in her arms. The smell of her was overpowering and at first Annie tried to hold her away from her body, but the little one squirmed and buried her face in Annie’s chest. Poor little mite, she thought, giving up and holding her close. I bet she’s sore underneath and famished as well.

‘Mom – you feeling any better?’

Lizzie knelt by the hearth and as she did so Annie saw to her horror that there was someone lying there on the floor, on some sort of rough bedding, a dark garment bundled under her head.

‘Lizzie?’ She spoke in the slurred voice of someone feeling very unwell. ‘That you? Oh, thank goodness. Help me sit up, will yer?’

As Lizzie pulled on her arm, Annie saw a gaunt-faced woman rise groggily from the floor and wrap her arms round her knees. Her long, pale hair was as tousled a mess as that of the little girls. She did not seem to have noticed Annie was there.

‘Why dain’t you go upstairs, Mom?’ Lizzie said. Kneeling, she curled forward and as if drained of all strength, rested her head on her mother’s feet.

‘It’s warmer ’ere,’ the woman said. ‘Denny’s put a bit of his wood on the fire. And the babby . . . Pass her to me, Den . . .’ She reached out an arm, not seeming to realize the boy had gone outside.

Annie took the infant, who was now grizzling again, over to her mother and laid her in her arms from behind. Mrs Poole did not turn round to look at her and Annie saw her reach into her clothing and latch the child to her breast. For a few moments it was quiet.

‘You feeling bad, Lizzie?’ she said, weakly.

Lizzie couldn’t help it; bent over, still resting her head on her mother’s body, she broke into sobs.

‘I feel so bad,’ she said. ‘I could hardly keep going all day – I ’ad to ask Miss Hinks if I could go out to the . . . to relief meself . . .’ She sobbed even harder. ‘And I kept wanting to be sick, even though there was nothing in me.’

‘Poor babby,’ the mother said. Her voice was thin but she reached out and stroked Lizzie’s hair. ‘You’re a good wench. The babby’s been sick all day again, and I can’t . . .’ She seemed to run out of strength to speak, and the baby began to wriggle and cry.