The Unsuspecting Housewife

by Olivia Charles

  “Ten years in jail per million. I need to tell Simon.” Hetty said in a faint voice.

  The officer felt a pang of compassion towards this quiet and polite prisoner and said:

  “If I let you have a phone call, you must not tell anyone. Do you agree?”

  “Yes.” Hetty said without hesitation and told the lady what number to dial.

  Simon reluctantly answered his mobile phone to a number he did not recognise.

  “Hello, who is this?”

  “This is Morton Hall Prison. I have a Henrietta Champion who would like to speak to you. Will you take her call?”

  “I will!” He was overcome with emotion as Hetty began to relay the information she had just been told.

  “No, no, no, dear girl,” he said with affection, “I have been to every meeting with you and ‘confiscation’ has never been a possibility. If there was ever a slightest chance that the Crown would confiscate you, Kevin would have told us before you agreed to make the plea.” He took a long breath as she cried on the end of the line. “Darling girl, I will ring the solicitor right now and I will come to see you on Saturday. OK?”

  The call ended and Hetty voiced her gratitude for the privilege to the officer who advised her that she must not be seen in such an emotional state by any other officer, as she may be deemed at risk of self- harming and put on hourly watch. Hetty acknowledged what she was being told, gave back the empty mug and returned to her cell and closed the door. Meanwhile the officer returned to the front desk and was obligated to make a note in the incident book which also meant that the Governor would ultimately see the entry and Henrietta could be considered a flight risk and as is often the case, may try to escape. This also meant that the Governor would not risk letting Henrietta move to the ‘open’ side of the jail to benefit from the improved conditions.

  Simon smiled to himself. Hetty’s naivety was charming but she had got worked up about nothing, poor girl and had definitely got the wrong end of a stick. He phoned the solicitor who was still outside the prison, chatting with the barrister in the car park.

  “Good morning Sarah, this is Simon Hennessy. I’ve just had a very distressing call from Henrietta who is worried sick and talking nonsense about being confiscated and ten years in prison. What on earth have you been telling her?”

  “Well actually it isn’t nonsense. The prosecution claim that her ‘benefit’ is in fact the two and a half million mortgage and have proposed that as her confiscation figure. Kevin says we just have to try to fight it when she gets out.”

  “What! What in God’s name do you mean? You’ve never mentioned this before, why now?”

  “Well, it’s awkward but we were concentrating on keeping her out of jail and getting a suspended sentence, so we focussed all our attention on that.” The solicitor was most uncomfortable and tried to excuse the blunder.

  “Do you mean to tell me that you didn’t bother to mention the ramifications of what you advised her to do? Are you insane? Put Kevin on the phone.” The solicitor handed the receiver to a reluctant Barrister who had heard Simon’s irate voice.

  “Good morning Simon.”

  “What is the matter with you man? Have you lost your mind? Now you say you were too busy keeping her out of prison for some minor bloody charge but forgot to mention that, oh by the way, when you get out of jail, the Court will take everything you have got left in the world, just for being a con-man’s stooge!” He screamed down the phone. “Besides you didn’t manage to keep your bloody client out of prison did you?” He was incandescent with rage and caused a pedestrian passing his parked Bentley to stare curiously through the driver’s side window at him. “So, all those meetings and that work and all those reports were for nothing? She would have been better taking her chances with a jury and a trial.”

  “But she said she couldn’t attend a trial in London.”

  “You should have sorted that out! You should have arranged funding for her or for her to go to a local court near home where she could have attended each day.”

  “But the trial could not have been held locally, as you know, because two of Aiden Hoare’s clients were local County Court judges. The trial would have been compromised.”

  “It would have helped her though, wouldn’t it? You blithering idiot!” He was livid but the barrister accepted his scolding.

  “We will do what we can for her once she is home. I thought you could you pay for her.”

  “Kevin, don’t be obtuse. Start planning a miracle before I see you and make sure you send a letter to the Governor to get her put into open conditions, pronto! She should not be with hardened criminals. Do you hear me man?”

  “I will get straight on it and see that Sarah writes to the Governor this week.”

  “Good. Do that!” Simon cut the call short as he could not stand the incompetence of the greasy haired, poorly dressed woman and the pompous, deluded, silver haired twit of a barrister who had evidently been shanghaied. He decided Legal Aid, or the lack of it, had a lot to answer for and wondered what he could say to Henrietta when he saw her?

  The next day Henrietta was summoned once more to the OMU building to see Mr Steel. He looked annoyed but gave her a reassuring smile as they sat in the small interview room.

  “I’ve got this form for you and I want you to take it away and fill it in carefully and then ask to bring it back to me so that we can send it to the appropriate court.”

  “What is it?” She took the pamphlet in her hand and leafed through it.

  “It is a form to apply for leave to appeal your sentence or conviction.” He said.

  “But my barrister told me that I can’t appeal.”

  “You must appeal, you should not be here. I watched those people with you yesterday and I didn’t like what I saw. What did they say that upset you?” Henrietta told him.

  “What? They drop that on you while you’re here. You should have been warned about this long ago. You must appeal. Will you trust me on this one?”

  “I don’t really understand but my barrister said he would send me his written advice.”

  “Maybe, but you take this stuff with you to your room and when you get that advise I will help you to understand it if you need me to. You just need to ask to see me at your reception desk and the officer on duty will phone me to sort out a time. OK?” He got to his feet and signed her out of his building so that she could cross over the expansive lawns and return to her block.

  When the lengthy document containing the barrister’s advice finally came in the post a few days later and was pushed under her room door, she opened it and read it twice before lunch. She obtained permission to see Mr Steel who read the letter and restrained his anger.

  “Henrietta, sack them! Write to them and sack them. You need a new team. No question. Do they actually know what they are doing?” He looked through the document a second time and tried to paraphrase his observations; ‘that because she had been advised to make a plea in January, she only had 28days in law to retract or change her plea by law, however the sentencing was not until the end of March which meant that the plea was binding at that time and not retractable’. Mr Steel tried to explain that the plea was clearly misadvised and was not in her best interest as it had been part of the larger count on the indictment which was of ‘conspiracy’. He explained that the ‘conspiracy’ was an admission to as much guilt as Mr Newman and Mr Hoare and she was damned. He explained that she would have to apply to the Criminal Appeal Court or the Supreme Court for permission to overturn her plea, out of time, which he explained only an excellent lawyer might attempt, not incompetent lawyers on meagre fees allowed by legal aid. He did his best to make Henrietta understand her legal position but also told her that he was not allowed to give her legal advice as he was not a lawyer.

  It was decided that Henrietta had no option other than to serve her short sentence and when she was free to go home she would have to find another lawyer who might work ‘pro bono’ to help her undo what had been
so badly done.

  Prison Life.

  Within a few days all of the new prisoners had been allocated jobs but Henrietta had been in Mr Steel’s office and had slipped the workforce net. She told Simon about her employment dilemma and was advised to say nothing, for he would send money in to her account via postal orders every month. Hetty discovered that she could apply for open status after six weeks incarceration and she also noticed other perks she could apply for such as a new mattress and the option to purchase her own quilt and pillows. She busied herself and became the superstar of the prisoner application forms and was rewarded with sweets and other treats as payment from the other less intelligent women who required her proficient and successful service. Henrietta also applied for an educational course in computer technology which occupied four mornings per week. The teacher was a kindly woman kept a keen eye on her students and encouraged them to learn various typing skills. She asked Henrietta why she had not bothered to learn any IT skills before her imprisonment and what she would do on the ‘out’ with her new found proficiency. She was surprised to hear that Henrietta’s crime was arranged by e-mail, which seemed implausible.

  Henrietta repeatedly applied to move to the ‘open’ part of the prison where the security and rules were said to be much easier and the rooms better equipped and cleaner. It was rumoured that the food was better and more abundant too. Hetty packed up her belongings in a plastic bag and was escorted to the other side of the twelve foot high metal fence and down a private road to the ‘open’ building and showed to her new lodgings. She was told that prisoners were allowed to go anywhere they liked within the extensive grounds but had three roll checks per day. They were allowed to do their own laundry and they did indeed have better portions of food at mealtimes which was served on pot crockery and with metal cutlery. Prison life was looking good and she could start to relax and have conversations with educated inmates.

  She frequently wrote to Oscar and her mother and a few of her friends and was delighted when she received a reply which gave her a finger hold on the real world. She also called home regularly to speak to her son who had given up college to earn a wage as a labourer and pay the household bills. It almost broke her heart that her own demise had brought about so much unnecessary suffering for the ones she loved and she was to blame for his change of plan to join the RAF as a pilot. He had put his own goals on hold to support his mother and his application to join the force had been set aside until she returned home.

  Two weeks before Henrietta’s release date, she called Oscar as usual at 10am on Sunday morning but got no reply. She called again at hourly intervals or as the communal phone box became free but Oscar did not answer. She called her mother but her phone was continually engaged. She became so frustrated that when Simon answered her call that afternoon, her first comment was ‘thank God’. She did not anticipate his explanation that Oscar had broken his back and was in hospital. He told her not to worry as he and Grandma would do everything they could for the boy in her absence. Henrietta left the phone box in a state of physical shock and returned to her room. Moments later there was a knock on the door and officer Lawton asked for permission to enter. It was obvious that Hetty had already received the news.

  “Henrietta, I know what it means to be a mother and I can only guess how you are feeling right now. If you want anything, come to me, but please do not let anyone see you upset or you will be sent back to the main prison for your safety. Do you understand? I will try to get the Governor to sanction a compassionate visit to see your son.” Miss Lawton squeezed her hand and Henrietta agreed to the pact and spent the following days in a veritable trance during the day, spoke to her mother and Simon every evening on the phone and cried herself to sleep each night under the covers.

  On the last academic day of her sentence, Henrietta’s IT teacher asked her to stay back after class to give her a certificate for her work and a private demonstration on how to send electronic mail. Henrietta was enthralled by the brilliant instant post. Her teacher said she felt it was ‘only fair’.

  July 22nd 2011.

  Miss Lawton knocked on Henrietta’s door at 7am with good news:

  “Mr Hennessy is coming at ten o’clock this morning to take you to see your son.”

  “Oh, Miss Lawton, thank you. How did you manage to convince the Governor?”

  “Don’t ask, but I was glad to help. Please don’t let me down and don’t tell anyone. Stay in your room until after everyone has gone to work. You will come back though won’t you?”

  “I would not let you down Miss Lawton, you have been very kind! I would hug you if I thought I wouldn’t get locked up for it.” They both laughed.

  At 10am Henrietta waited anxiously by the main door until Simon’s car arrived. Miss Lawton told Hetty that she had to be back by seven o’clock that evening and Simon was told that it was his responsibility to ensure her safe return. She jumped up into his Range Rover and he drove away quickly to see her boy and speak to his surgeon to establish the gravity of the spinal damage and find out what could be done. Simon asked if she would like to call home first to get changed, which she did.

  They entered the hospital and Hetty approached the huge cream contraption of a bed on which Oscar was laid out and surrounded by gadgets and devises for monitoring and administering to his pain. Hetty swooped in to kiss her son.

  “They said you were coming. Are you home now?”

  “No darling, not until Monday.”

  “But that’s daft, it’s Friday today, what difference does it make?”

  “I know, it’s mad but it’s the rules. What has the surgeon said?”

  “Some bone is wedged in my spinal cord.” Hetty felt sick. She held his hand and kissed him on the forehead again. She turned to Simon who nodded in agreement.

  “What are they going to do?”

  “The Consultant has said that he is not happy to operate and wants to speak to you.”

  “I will let them know you are here.” Simon got up to leave mother and son.

  “Don’t worry Oscar, I will take care of you, you will be up and about in no time, I’m sure”. They talked about the drugs and the physiotherapy for his immobilised legs. He was not a good patient and was bored. He asked for his phone charger and Hetty promised to bring it for him on Monday along with anything else he might like.

  The Consultant took Hetty to one side whilst Simon distracted his patient.

  “Mrs Champion, your son has fractured his third and fourth vertebra and has dislodged a disk. He has also chipped a piece of bone which has stuck in between those vertebrae and is touching the spinal cord. The automatic solution would be to remove the sliver of bone but after much deliberation I have taken the view that if I perform such a delicate procedure, the spinal cord could be damaged and Oscar may never walk again.”

  “Oh my God.”

  “I would prefer to keep cranking the arch of his back with the aid of morphine and if he can stand it, my hope is that the offending piece of bone should drop away. My advice is that we do not operate. This could come good.”

  The surgeon went over to Oscar, told him he was doing well, moved the position of his bed and called to the nurse for additional morphine and left. Henrietta looked at Simon and both bore grave expressions. After a few hours they left Oscar in the hospital and returned to Hetty’s home where she changed back into the same clothes she wore when she left prison earlier that day.

  She phoned the prison reception desk and spoke to Miss Lawton to check if she could travel back in her own car to enable her to leave on the Monday without inconveniencing Simon. Miss Lawton sounded horrified and said she didn’t want to know about anything which might contravene prison rules. Henrietta considered her position and decided to drive back and leave car at the motel she had spotted at the end of the road. She gave the manager a twenty pound note to park securely on his property for two days and left her handbag and mobile phone in the boot. She asked for the number of a taxi service but the m
anager drove her back to the prison entrance in his own car and did not ask any awkward questions. She tucked the car keys inside her bra and walked in to the unusually deserted reception where she quickly signed the attendance register on the desk and ran to her room to hide her car key. All she had to do now was pass the tedium of the weekend before her imminent release on Monday.

  She was awake and up very early on her final day and could not wait to legitimately escape. After breakfast she was sent through the security gates into the main prison for her necessary paperwork to be completed at OMU and to be reminded that G4 would call at her home address that evening to shackle her leg with an electronic tag. This process was known as Home Detention Curfew or HDC which would last for four months. Henrietta was given a printed account sheet and handed a cashiers envelope with the balance of her personal money in cash. As she finally waved goodbye to prison, Miss Lawton commented on the extraordinary turnout of fellow prisoners who wanted to wish her well. Henrietta walked briskly to her car, retrieved the key from her bra and gleefully got into her own car once more and drove home. The nightmare was over!

  When she arrived at the probation office she was seen by the same officer who had interviewed her prior to sentencing and was told that as she presented no threat to society, she would not have to attend their office for the duration of her curfew. All the lady asked was that Henrietta kept her mobile phone ‘on at all times’ in case the ‘tag’ erred and she was duty bound to call her.

  Hetty drove to her son’s bedside for the rest of the day and then drove home for her ‘tagging’ ordeal which essentially would mean that she had to be shackled like a slave and would not be able to expose her ankle for four months for fear of embarrassment. Once the man fitted the degrading appliance and plugged in the receiver to her land-line it meant she could not go out of the house during the stipulated curfew hours. She also realised that she could not attend Yvonne’s daughter’s imminent wedding, even though she had looked forward to the occasion for so long and knew every detail of the planning and had previously chosen a room for an overnight stay at the hotel venue and bought her special outfit and hat. She sat and stared at the cumbersome device, wondered what she could say to Yvonne and her other friends and started to cry.