The Legacy (30 page)

‘You will feel more confident, and I can do it very cheaply, what do you say?’

Smiling sweetly as Evelyne agreed, Freda took out a tape measure, saying that she never went anywhere without it. She departed with two pounds ten shillings of Evelyne’s money, assuring her she could do wonders with it.

When she had left, Evelyne counted her remaining money. She had been ‘paid’ with two five-pound notes last time she had been in Cardiff, and now she was putting them to good use. As Freda had taken most of her few clothes to alter she couldn’t go out, so she lingered in yet another soapy bath, her thoughts on David. She wondered if he knew what was so obviously going on between his wife and his best friend Freddy.

The following morning Evelyne was astonished at how fast Freda had worked. Her hemlines were up, and the new buttons on her old coat made it look quite nice.

‘I will have a dress ready soon, your skirt and blouse will do for now, and perhaps if you can give me a few more shillings you can have a nice new hat.’

The desk sergeant remembered Evelyne, but refused her permission to see Freedom. Miss Freda launched into a furious speech about citizens’ rights, and said that if he didn’t allow Miss Jones to visit the prisoner, she would write to all the newspapers. After that they were kept waiting for half an hour, but permission was granted. They were sent to another building, where again they were kept waiting, until a tall prison warder with a set of big keys on a waistchain approached them. ‘Miss Evelyne Jones, please?’

He led her to a bare room where Freedom was sitting at a wooden table, handcuffed, an officer standing beside the door. Another officer stood outside, where he could see into the room through a small window set in the door for that purpose. Freedom had no idea why he had been brought out of his cell and sat, head bowed, staring at his hands. His hair was unruly, uncombed, and his face already dark with stubble.

As the officer left he locked the door behind him, after informing Evelyne coldly that she had ten minutes. Freedom was stunned and made to rise, but was immediately pushed back into his chair by the officer. Evelyne sat in an identical chair opposite Freedom. Now that she was here she didn’t know what to say to him and could see that he was dumbstruck by her appearance. She could smell him, his heavy body odour, for the man had not been allowed to bathe since his arrest.

His shoulder-length hair was greasy and hung limp, and when he lifted his hands to move it back from his face she could see his handcuffs.

The presence of the police officer loomed over them both, and for a good two minutes neither said a word. Evelyne placed her hands, with the neat, square, shining nails, on to the table. ‘I have come to say you were with me the night Willie was in the picture house. They say in the papers that you’ll be standing trial for all the killings and that you’ll hang.’

Freedom looked into her eyes, and then turned to look at the prison officer. His voice was so quiet, she had to lean forward to hear. ‘So be it, and I thank thee for coming, God bless you.’

Evelyne leant even further across to him, trying to make him look into her face, but his head remained bowed. ‘You can’t just accept it, you can’t, because I know you didn’t …’

Freedom looked up, his face was hard, and now his voice was firm, though still not loud. ‘You know nothing, go back to your village, manushi, go back, this is not your business. Forget what you know - she must never be mentioned, understand me?’

She knew he meant Rawnie, and she leant back against the wooden chair. He was prepared to say nothing, prepared to hang … she couldn’t believe it.

‘Will you do nothing? Freedom…’ His name sounded hollow and foolish, and he turned to the officer and jerked his head for the door to be opened. The officer banged on the door with his wooden baton and it was unlocked from outside. With a hesitant look at the officer, Freedom waited to be allowed to stand.

‘Do you have proof that you were not in Cardiff for the other killings? Freedom? Where were you? Freedom?’

Standing, Freedom dwarfed the prison officer who only came up to his shoulders. He didn’t look back but walked straight to the door, and it was not until he bent his head to avoid the doorframe that he turned to look back at her.

His dark eyes were expressionless, black, his powerful arms bound by the handcuffs. He was like a magnificent wild beast trapped by man, unbowed and undaunted. He gave Evelyne a quick, unfathomable smile, then he was gone.

Miss Freda linked arms with Evelyne as they walked away from the prison. The girl was silent, her body stiff, her hands cold to Freda’s touch. One of the prison officers had walked through the waiting room and mentioned to another that the gyppo killer had not said a word during his time in the jail.

‘That his woman in there with him, is it? She’ll do no good, he’s for the rope and he knows it.’

Miss Freda still did not know the truth behind Evelyne’s visit, surely it could not just be because she believed the lad innocent, there must be more than that.

In the middle of the street Evelyne suddenly stopped, her face angry, eyes blazing.

‘They’ll not hang him, Freda, I won’t let them, he’s like a child in there, a foolish, stubborn child.’

Together they returned to Freda’s small lodgings. The room was cluttered with hatboxes, and in pride of position in the centre of the room was Freda’s sewing machine. From the garret window Evelyne could see a long line of men waiting for the dole, and there were children begging in the street.

‘I won’t let them hang him, he’s innocent, I’m going back, and I’ll keep going back until they take me seriously and do something about it.’

Freda patted her arm soothingly and at the same time tried to measure her for a sleeve.

‘I don’t want a new dress, Freda, I’m sorry, I’m not going to walk away from him, I’m going to make him see sense, I have to.’

Frightened that Evelyne would ask for her money back, Freda wanted to weep. She was so short of cash that she’d already spent the two pounds ten on back rent. ‘You seem so sure he is innocent - I know, don’t get angry … I know you say you were with him, he could not have killed that boy in your village, but Evie, what of the others?’

Evelyne still stared down at the growing line of poverty-stricken, unemployed men. ‘He’s killed no one, I know it, there are things I can’t speak of… but I will, I’ll make him let me.’

Back at the prison, at first the warder was most unhelpful. Evelyne refused to budge, she had to see Freedom Stubbs, and it was her right. The prisoner was entitled to a lawyer. She opened her purse and took out a shilling. ‘And you’ll have another after I’ve seen him.’

She was taken to the visiting room and told to wait. At long last, after two hours, she heard the footsteps of the warder returning.

‘You got two minutes and then he has to go back, I’ll lose me job, ma’am, I’m trusting you to behave yourself.’

Evelyne clenched her fists, nodded her head. Another fifteen minutes passed before she heard the sound of keys turning, iron doors opening and closing, and then heavy footfalls. Freedom was ushered in, head bowed, lips tight.

‘He didn’t want to see you, ma’am, so much for all your trouble … now, you, sit down, I’ll be right outside the door.’

They were alone, and she sat opposite him. ‘We’ve got two minutes, so let’s not waste it. Will you listen to me, Mr Stubbs? If you won’t help yourself then I am going to do it, whether you like it or not.’

His teeth were so tightly clenched she could see a muscle twitching at the side of his mouth. He refused to look up.

‘Now then, I have the time of the murder at the picture house, and I know for certain I was with you. Now where were you on the other occasions? I’ll check out your whereabouts and try to prove you were not in Cardiff when the other lads were killed. Are you listening to me? Will you not stand up and fight? Fight for your own life?’

Still he was silent and she could feel his anger. She leaned forward, whispered, ‘I’ll give you my word I’ll not mention Rawnie, or Jesse, I’ll not ever say their names, and that’s God’s truth.’

Her face was close to his, her hands on the table, and he moved so fast it shocked her. His shackled hands reached over and grabbed her wrists hard, hurting her, and she was frightened.

‘Woman, go away, you’ve no business here.’ For the first time he looked into her frightened face, and then he moaned, rubbed her wrist softly.

‘I didn’t mean to frighten you, girl, I’ll not hurt you.’

She swallowed, he was still holding her wrists, she could see where the handcuffs had cut into his skin. She eased her hands away.

‘Do you not understand? They’ll say you’re a gyppo lover, just like I heard them screaming at you when I was inside the wagon. You’ll be treated like dirt - you’ll get no respect, they’ll drag your name in the muck alongside mine.’

She slapped the table between them. ‘I don’t care, I want to help you, can’t you understand that, I need to help you?’

He cocked his head to one side and looked at her, repeating the word ‘need’ as a question. Evelyne bit her lip and felt the tears welling up. She sniffed. ‘Oh, you won’t understand, but I never see things through, you know? I’ve not even taken my examinations, I’m not a qualified schoolteacher, and then, well, last time I was here … I’ve never had the fight in me, not for myself. I’ll fight for you, I want to see you released, I want to give you your name, Freedom.’

A tear trickled down each of her cheeks, and he lifted his hands to wipe them away, but she recoiled. ‘I don’t know what I’m crying for. It’s you that should be weeping, will you not stand up for yourself, man? I’ll stand alongside you, I give you my word, and I’ve got a bit of money for a lawyer.’

The key turned in the lock, and Freedom stood up. He was walking to the door of his own free will. At the door he stopped, his back to her, and his voice was so soft she could only just hear it.

‘Take your fight, manushi, take it for yourself, there’s naught ye can do fer me. Don’t come back, I don’t want to see you again, I won’t see you … walk away if you know what’s best, and get your teaching qualifications.’

He was gone, the visiting-room door stood open and the warder was looking at her. ‘All the same, ungrateful animals, you wasted your time. Go on, love, go home.’

She handed him his shilling, and he looked at it, then looked her up and down. He shook his head. ‘Keep your money, lovey, you look as if you could do with a good meal inside you, now go on, go home.’

Freda watched as the coppers, the shillings and a half-crown tumbled out on to the sewing-machine table. ‘You love this man, Evelyne, is that what it is?’

Evelyne was stunned, her mouth dropped open. She had never thought of that. ‘Good heavens no, he’s a gypsy, Freda, but that doesn’t mean he has no right to a fair trial… Oh, I feel so good, elated, you know. I’m doing something really worthwhile, and what’s more I’m going to see it through … I’ll be at the hotel, I’ll leave the dresses and things to you, just make sure you make me look like a real lady.’

Freda was rendered speechless. She wondered if Evelyne was one of those suffragettes she’d read about, they were always going on about people’s rights.

‘Remember, Freda, if I look good in court then people’ll want to know where I got the clothes from, you’ll be back in business, what do you say?’

Freda picked up the money and was already delving into her pattern book as Evelyne ran down the wooden staircase.

Ping! went the desk bell, and Mr Jeffrey whipped round, picked up the key to suite twenty-seven and banged it on the desk.

‘Will you want a table reserved for dinner, Miss Jones?’

Evelyne turned to him, and for the first time she wasn’t in any way ashamed or embarrassed. ‘Not at those prices I won’t, thank you.’

She was off to the lift before Mr Jeffrey could close his open jaw. Good God, she’s got herself a suite and now she was acting up like she was a duchess.

The lift-boy was about to clang the lift shut on Evelyne’s coat when she turned and gave him a look. ‘Just you try it, lad, an’ you’ll get the back of my hand. Time you learnt some manners.’

Ed Meadows was tapping on Sir Charles Wheeler’s door when he overheard Evelyne’s remark. He turned to her and grinned.

‘Good on yer, gel, cheeky little blighter, ain’t ‘e?’

Evelyne smiled, picked up her evening newspaper and put her key in the door.

‘You from round these parts, are you?’

Evelyne had already opened her door and gave him a rather frosty look. Being friendly was one thing, but he was a little too chatty. ‘I’m from the valleys, good evening to you.’

Getting no reply from knocking on His Lordship’s door, Ed waddled towards Evelyne.

‘I’m from London, suppose you can tell by me accent I’m not Welsh, I’m up ‘ere wiv me guv’nor, name’s Meadows, Ed Meadows.’

He brandished a rather dog-eared card at Evelyne.

‘Boxing promotor and trainer, ‘Ackney, London.’

Evelyne took the card and gave a curt nod, then realized she was behaving a little rudely.

‘Evelyne Jones.’

As they shook hands, Sir Charles appeared at the door of his suite. He was dressed in a plum-velvet smoking jacket. Ed Meadows turned, then stepped back and introduced Sir Charles to Evelyne. Very debonair, Sir Charles strode up to Evelyne and kissed her hand. ‘Charmed to meet you, are you staying long?’

He wasn’t frightfully interested whether she was or not, and was already heading back towards his open door. Ed beamed at Evelyne and followed the guv’nor, telling him before Evelyne could open her mouth that she was from the valleys. About to enter his suite, Sir Charles smiled. ‘What a coincidence, we were there only the other night. Well, nice to meet you, good evening.’

The door closed behind them and Evelyne entered her own suite. She bumped the door closed with her behind and tossed the keys on to the bed. Typical Londoners, think there’s only one valley … and then she pulled up, and Sir Charles’ words click-click-clicked in her brain. Surely that titled gent couldn’t have been to her valley … but it would make sense, that man … Evelyne fished in her pocket for Ed’s crumpled card, bit her lip, and then before she could change her mind she strode out of the suite and along the corridor.