The Mill Girls of Albion Lane Read Online Free PDF Page B

disagreed. ‘Long skirts are all the rage again, don’t you know?’
    Just like Sybil and Lily, Annie loved to talk of fashion and considered herself an expert. ‘I say the legs have it,’ she decided. ‘It’s a shame to let them go to waste, Lil.’
    They laughed as they trod the wet streets, Annie jingling her recently purchased slave bracelets and all three discussing the cost of the silver signet rings they’d seen on one of the market stalls.
    â€˜With your new wage coming in you’ll soon be able to save up for one of them,’ Sybil told Lily. ‘You can even get it engraved.’
    â€˜Why would she?’ Annie objected. ‘Lily’s got no sweetheart to give it to.’
    â€˜No, not for her sweetheart, silly,’ Sybil teased. ‘For herself. I say she’d suit a dainty ring on one of her slim fingers.’
    â€˜Will you please stop talking about my legs and my fingers?’ Lily attempted a serious protest but her wide smile spoiled the effect.
    â€˜And what about her hair?’ Sybil went on regardless. ‘Now that she’s gone up in the world, don’t you think she would suit a nice Marcel Wave?’
    â€˜I am here!’ Lily objected. It was funny – people were always talking about her in the third person, as if she were invisible. I need to make more of a mark, she told herself, be more like Annie who you just couldn’t miss in her jingle-jangle bangles and flowery dresses.
    Annie rolled on, sidestepping a muddy puddle then linking arms with Lily as they approached the grandiose Assembly Rooms built by the town council just before the Great War.
    â€˜Lily’s hair doesn’t need a permanent wave,’ she insisted. ‘It curls all by itself.’
    â€˜Worse luck,’ Lily grumbled. ‘What wouldn’t I give for nice sleek hair like our Margie’s?’
    They went on, absorbed in the pros and cons of naturally wavy hair until they joined the crowd outside the dance hall with its carved stone entrance depicting romantic women with flowing robes and luxuriant locks.
    â€˜My treat,’ Lily offered as they joined the back of the queue.
    â€˜No, you keep your pennies in your pocket,’ Annie argued.
    â€˜Yes, just this once we’ll pay,’ Sybil agreed. ‘To celebrate you moving upstairs.’
    Lily gave in as they shuffled slowly towards the box office where they had to pay their threepenny entrance fees. ‘How are you feeling about Monday, by the way?’ Sybil asked. ‘Are you having kittens?’
    â€˜A bit.’ Lily nodded. She stood aside for a large, fair-haired girl who pushed through the queue to join Billy Robertshaw at the front. It was Dorothy Brumfitt – trust her to use her elbows, Lily thought, watching her link arms with a moody-looking Billy and recalling the row Margie had told her about.
    â€˜Manners!’ Sybil grumbled.
    â€˜I don’t blame you, Lil,’ Annie went on. ‘I’d be wetting myself if I knew I had to work under Miss Valentine.’
    â€˜She’s not as bad as they say,’ Lily replied, remembering how fair and straightforward the manageress had appeared in the office earlier that day. ‘She probably comes across as strict to make up for her size. She doesn’t want people to think they can push her around.’
    â€˜Lily, wash that blue chalk off your hand. Lily Briggs, what are you thinking? Don’t you see you missed two broken ends?’ Sybil did a good job of mimicking Miss Valentine’s high, quick voice.
    â€˜Oh Lily, love, shan’t you miss us when you move up?’ Annie sang out when she’d got over her fit of giggles. They reached the box office at last and she slid payment for herself and Lily under the glass screen.
    â€˜â€™Cos we’ll miss you in the shed,’ Sybil promised. ‘Especially with sourpuss Florence White taking your