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.
Dewhurst opened the door to Sir Charles’ rooms, and stiffly enquired if she had an appointment. Behind him Ed Meadows bellowed, ‘Who is it?’
Sir Charles was sitting at a small desk. There was a big fire in the grate and there were so many doors leading off the main room that for a moment Evelyne thought she had got confused, perhaps he lived at the hotel, surely he wouldn’t have all this space just for one person? He fixed his monocle into his left eye and looked at Evelyne. ‘Ah, yes, now what can I do for you?’
Evelyne’s nerve almost deserted her, but she blurted it out as fast as she could. Had they been to the
