That's when I wondered how his cold, uneven fingers would feel on my skin."I'm Charles Owen, and I'm a union man. I'm a worker, just like you are, and...I've known tough. I've been beaten and jailed by the coppers and I am still fighting." A union? We don't hold with your bolshie lot hereabouts!" said Harry, my gangmate."Says who?" I asked. "Doesn't look to me like the pay is fair. We've been slaving for weeks and what do we get? The same shit wage while the bosses send their pretty daughters to. Lose the skirt,” I directed. Her quick movement at her waist loosed the button; I heard the friendly sound of the zipper going down. A few wiggles at her hips and the skirt hit the floor. She used the tip of her shoe to discard it near the blouse. Then she placed her fingers on the gold chain which still ringed her waist. Her eyes were asking my preference—stays or goes? “It will be in my way,” I said. She added it to her clothing pile.A wee bit broad in the shoulder, but that matched her. More

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