Opal Plumstead:Opal_Plumstead

Transcription

Opal Plumstead:Opal_Plumstead
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BURIED ALIVE!
MIDNIGHT
CANDYFLOSS
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MY SECRET DIARY
CLEAN BREAK
MY SISTER JODIE
CLIFFHANGER
OPAL PLUMSTEAD
COOKIE
PAWS AND WHISKERS
THE DARE GAME
QUEENIE
DIAMOND
SAPPHIRE BATTERSEA
THE DIAMOND GIRLS
SECRETS
DOUBLE ACT
STARRING TRACY BEAKER
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EMERALD STAR
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OPAL PLUMSTEAD
A DOUBLEDAY BOOK 978 0 857 53109 4
TRADE PAPERBACK 978 0 857 53110 0
Published in Great Britain by Doubleday,
an imprint of Random House Children’s Publishers UK
A Random House Group Company
This edition published 2014
1 3 5 7 9 10 8 6 4 2
Text copyright © Jacqueline Wilson, 2014
Illustrations copyright © Nick Sharratt, 2014
The right of Jacqueline Wilson to be identified as the author
of this work has been asserted in accordance with the
Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
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Opal Plumstead is fiercely intelligent:
a proud scholarship girl, with plans to
go to university. Yet her dreams are
shattered when her father is sent to
prison, and fourteen-year-old Opal
must abandon school and start work
at the Fairy Glen sweet factory.
Opal struggles to get along with the
other workers, who think her snobby
and stuck-up. But Opal idolises
Mrs Roberts, the factory’s beautiful,
dignified owner, who introduces Opal
to the legendary Emmeline Pankhurst
and her fellow Suffragettes. And when
Opal meets Morgan - Mrs Roberts’
handsome son, and the heir to Fairy
Glen – she believes she has found her
soulmate.
But the First World War is looming
on the horizon, and will change Opal’s
life for ever.
The brilliant new story from
the nation’s best-loved storyteller,
starring her most outspoken, fiery and
unforgettable heroine yet.
5
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16:35
Page 292
were thinking of him all the time and would visit him
as soon as we’d saved the rail fare.
I was totally dashed when Father responded as
follows:
Dearest Lou, Cassie and Opal,
Please do not put yourselves to the trouble and
expense of visiting me. I don’t think I could bear to let
you see me in my current situation. It would only be
distressing, most of all to me. Far better that you put
me out of your minds altogether, until I can return
home and be
Your loving husband and father,
Ernest
‘Perhaps he doesn’t really mean it,’ I faltered.
‘He’s made it plain enough, Opal,’ said Mother.
‘I think we should go anyway,’ I said.
‘It would be foolish to go all that way and spend so
much money if your father refuses to see us. We must
respect his feelings. He’s ashamed.’
‘But he shouldn’t feel ashamed. Mrs Roberts has
been in prison and she acts as if she’s proud of it.’
‘What? The Mrs Roberts who owns Fairy Glen?
She’s been in prison?’
‘She’s a suffragette and she’s been arrested at
demonstrations,’ I said.
‘Then she’s a total fool,’ said Mother. ‘I don’t hold
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16:35
Page 293
with these hysterical women throwing bricks at
windows and behaving like hoydens. They’ve no
business interfering in politics. They should leave it
to the men who know best.’
‘I think women should be educated until they know
just as much as men,’ I said. ‘Mrs Roberts is utterly
splendid. I think I shall become a suffragette when
I’m older.’
‘Then you’ll end up in prison too, and God help us,’
said Mother. ‘I don’t want to hear any more of this
nonsense. And anyway, it’s different when you go to
prison for a political cause. I’ll bet she had an easy
time of it because she’s a high-born lady. She won’t be
doing hard labour like your father.’
‘It’s so wicked that he’s been given such a hard
sentence. We know he didn’t embezzle all that other
money,’ I said passionately.
‘We can’t positively know, Opal,’ said Mother. ‘And
we do know he wrote out a cheque to himself. That’s
a crime in anyone’s book. When I was a girl, I knew
an old man who was so hungry he dug up some
potatoes in a farmer’s field – just four or five potatoes.
He was caught and sentenced to five years’ hard
labour.’
‘But that doesn’t make Father’s case any less
unfair,’ I said.
‘Opal, you’re making my head spin. You can be so
aggravating at times. Why can’t you be more like your
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sister?’ Mother nodded at Cassie. She was sitting
demurely in her chair, making herself a new
petticoat, embroidering daisies all around the hem.
Yes, and I dare say she’ll be showing off those
daisies to her darling Mr Evandale, I shouted – but
only inside my head.
I stomped up to my room and read The Blue Fairy
Book. When was my fairy godmother going to appear
and wave her magic wand?
When I trudged into the factory the next morning, Mr
Beeston beckoned to me.
‘Hold your horses, Opal Plumstead. Mrs Roberts
wants to see you this morning,’ he said.
My throat went dry. What had I done now? I hadn’t
been in any more fights. I had moulded obediently,
hour after hour. I completed more boxes than any of
the other girls because I had a steady hand and I
didn’t waste time gossiping.
‘Don’t look so stricken,’ said Mr Beeston. He
reached out and snatched at my nose with his fingers.
Then he made a fist of his hand with the thumb
poking through, like a little nose. ‘Dear, oh dear, what
am I doing, stealing your funny little button nose.
Shall I give it you back?’ He dabbed at my forehead.
‘There! Back in place. No – whoops! Doesn’t it go
under your eyes?’
‘Mr Beeston, I’m not a child.’
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