Free Crooked Pieces by Sarah Grazebrook Page B

Mrs Grant, too, and everyone here, we shall be living off them till Christmas.’ Even Ma laughed.
    I cannot mind when I have seen so many people all in one place, jam-packed together, munching on those buns like their lives depended on it. At last someone rang a bell and everyone made their way into the grand hall.
    I sat with Ma and Mrs Grant near the back. Ma looked so tired I could tell she would rather not be there. I wondered who was minding Evelyn and Will. Not Lucy, I hoped, or they would both end up drowned or worse.
    After a few minutes Miss Billington and Mrs Montefiore and some other ladies I did not know came on to the stage and everyone fell silent. Miss Billington thanked the women for coming so far and at such trouble to themselves. She then called upon Miss Annie to address the meeting. As she stood up there was a great roar from all the women she had talked into coming, as though she was one of their own.
    She told how we must await the end of the King’s Speech in Parliament. On that depended our next action. I was not sure what this meant, but everyone clapped and cheered, so I did too, and Miss Annie went on to say how more than half thepeople of Britain were women and it was monstrous that they should have no say in how they were ruled. More cheers. She told how where she came from in the north, women would work a ten-hour day, six days a week, for half what the men alongside them were earning. And was this right? Was this just? Was this Christian?
    ‘No,’ we all cried, even Ma, who looked much sparkier than before.
    Was it right that married women should depend on their men to vote for them, and unmarried girls have no one at all to champion their cause?
    ‘No.
No. NO.’
    Were women too stupid to know what they wanted? Were they too lazy to walk to the polling station? Did they not care what happened to their children? Was not this great nation founded on the toil of men
and
women?
    ‘Yes.
Yes. YES.’
    I think if the old grey man from the Albert Hall had stepped on to the stage at that moment, he would have been torn to pieces before our eyes.
    Miss Annie made to continue when, suddenly, came a sound from the side of the stage and Miss Christabel fair leapt on to the platform. Those who knew her raised a mighty cheer, but she held up a hand to silence them. ‘Ladies, we all know why we are here today. It is to see if the Government has at last come to its senses. Today is the opening of Parliament.’ She paused, dipped her head, then solemnly raised it again. ‘It is with great regret I must inform you that no mention whatsoever was made in the King’s Speech today regarding a bill for women’s suffrage.’
    There was a silence. More than a silence. A sort of damp despair curling over us. Then, quick as a flash, Mrs Drummond jumped up on her seat and cried, ‘For shame! Shame on this government of weaklings and bullies.’ The cry was taken up like a great chorus and rang round the hall till, had it been trumpets, the walls would surely have fallen. And into all this wildness stepped Mrs Pankhurst. Still, tiny, but like a flame in the darkness.
    ‘My dear friends, this is a disappointment indeed. More than a disappointment. A blow to the heart of our frail bodies. But let us remember that it is but a blow. One blow. A harsh one. But not a murdering blow. It has hurt us. It has wounded us. It has not killed us. Nor will it
ever.
For while there are women such as you – true, loyal, honourable, brave, deserving – prepared to fight for what should be theirs by right, we shall
never
be beaten. We shall fight on. Till we win the glorious day.’
    Such cheers as rose would have lifted the roof and carried all the way to the King himself if there was any justice in the world.
    Mrs Pankhurst then proposed that all those willing should make their way to the House of Commons and demand to speak with the Members of Parliament. The hall emptied. When we got outside a wicked cold drizzle was