by June Tate
‘What about you and Tony? Do you still go out with him?’
With a mischievous look she said, ‘Oh yes, we’re getting along very well, thank you.’
‘How well? Or shouldn’t I ask?’
‘You can ask, love, but I’m saying nothing! Now you best sort out your veg or you won’t do no business today.’ She walked away chuckling softly.
While she was sorting her stall, several of the other stallholders came over to talk to her. All were very sympathetic for the ordeal she’d suffered, but remembering James Hardy’s advice, she answered them briefly, thanking them for their concern, saying she wanted to put it behind her and just get on with her life. She carried on sorting the vegetables to be thrown away, and some that she could give to the children who came searching for handouts, but there was enough to stock her stall for a couple of days until she refilled it.
During play time at school, Tim was surrounded by boys who knew about the trial and Tim’s sister being a witness, but this time he wasn’t upset because the boys, being children, were thrilled with it all. After all, a murder was exciting and his sister was a bit of a heroine in their eyes.
On the way home, Phoebe had to shop for food as her larder was empty. As she did so, she was aware of several women staring at her and whispering. She overheard one.
‘I’m sure it’s her. I saw her picture in the paper.’
She left the shop as quickly as she could, realising that this was going to happen for a while, as James had predicted. In the market during the following days it was even worse. Folk would gather in groups a few feet away, looking at her and whispering. She ignored them.
One day Marj had reached the end of her tether with such folk. She walked round the front of her stall and glared at the gathering. ‘You lot shopping or are you just gawping? If you don’t want to buy – move on and make way for those who do!’
Marj in a temper was not to be messed with and they all hurried away. Hearing the sound of laughter behind her, Marj turned round, to see Phoebe doubled up trying to stop laughing and failing miserably.
‘Oh, you are a caution! You scared the living daylights out of those women.’
‘Well, they make me sick! They are like a lot of vultures looking at a dead carcass!’
‘Oh, thanks, Marj! Is that how you see me? Not very flattering, I must say.’
The two of them started giggling. ‘I hope Ben doesn’t see me like that!’
‘If ’e did, it would have been my stall ’e’d ’ave come to, not yours! I’d have given ’im ’is money’s worth and no mistake!’
Wiping her tears of laughter away, Phoebe said, ‘You really are a naughty woman!’
‘Not me, love, I’m as pure as the driven snow!’
‘Oh my, I’m going to miss you. You’ll have to come and visit me often when I’m a married lady.’
‘You have my word on that, young lady. Now I best get back to work.’
Phoebe stood leaning against her stall viewing the market, remembering when she first came here as a child when her father worked the stall, and the years that followed when he went to war and she took over. This place had been her life for so long, she knew that leaving it behind wouldn’t be easy. There was a great camaraderie between the people who worked here. It was like an extended family, apart from the brothers. She couldn’t help feeling sorry for Arthur. He wasn’t a bad man like his brother, just a weak one who, through his brother’s greed and temper, had paid with his life. How sad that was just as he’d begun to enjoy himself, left on his own. He’d even had a girlfriend. Phoebe gave a wry smile. At least he’d had a few months of freedom and she was pleased for him.
She picked up an apple and bit into it. It reminded her of the time when she’d dropped a box of fruit in her lock-up and Percy had picked some up and walked into return them and taken her by surprise. She clearly recalled the terror she felt as he looked at her. She closed her eyes as she tried to shut out the image. Well, he’d spend the rest of his life with time to think of what he’d lost. She hoped he would go through hell.
Chapter Thirty-One
Percy Stanley waited in his cell for the door to be unlocked for the day. He’d been placed in a block used to house the most dangerous prisoners. Those who’d committed murder or manslaughter. Others were serving time for grievous bodily harm and some were awaiting trial for some heinous crime.
It became clear to him almost immediately that there was a decided pecking order among the inmates. The leader, Harry Matthews, an older man who’d been inside for many years, serving a life sentence for killing a family after breaking into their house. He was thickset and balding with hooded eyes and bushy eyebrows. There was a certain aura about him as he walked about, and it was obvious to newcomers that he was held in respect and with a certain amount of fear from his fellow prisoners. This did not sit well with Percy.
On the third day, at breakfast, he nudged the prisoner sitting next to him. ‘What’s so special about him?’ he asked, nodding over to where Harry was sitting surrounded by his closest followers.
The man looked at him in surprise. ‘You must be new here. That’s Harry Matthews. You mess with him and you are in trouble.’
‘What right has he to be the big I am?’
‘How long are you in for, mate?’
Percy glared at him. ‘Too long!’
‘Then let me give you a bit of advice. Keep clear of him. Don’t upset him, and remember: what he says, goes. If he tells you to step aside, do it! If he tells you to get his food, do it!’
‘I’m not waiting on anybody. I’m not a bloody servant!’
‘Then, my friend, you are in for a very hard time in here. These are hard men, mostly in for a long time, some for life. They haven’t anything to lose. You’d best remember that.’
Percy watched the other table as he ate his porridge. Matthews sat at the end of the long table with its bench seating. Percy watched as he drained the tea in his cup and just handed the empty to the person sitting beside him, who without hesitation, picked it up and went to get a refill. He returned and placed it on the table, without a word being spoken.
As Matthews picked it up to drink, he glanced around the room and saw that Percy was watching him. He didn’t look away, but seemed to study this newcomer. Percy just stared back at him. The old lag’s eyes narrowed as he recognised the hostility there. The corners of his mouth twitched in a half-smile, but it was far from friendly.
At that moment the bell went and the men stood in lines ready to return their empty dishes, apart from Matthews, who got up and walked out, leaving one of the others to take his.
Percy couldn’t help feeling a certain admiration for the power that he had, but he realised that sooner or later, the two of them would clash.
As Percy walked back towards his cell, he was called to by a warder and told to go and get a mop and bucket of hot water as he’d been assigned to scrub and mop one of the corridors.
‘I’m not a bloody housewife,’ he snapped.
‘Don’t come it, Stanley! You’ve been inside before, you know the drill. You all have a job to do to help keep the prison running smoothly and that’s yours!’
Percy duly filled the bucket, took a scrubbing brush, mop and soap and, following the warder, walked to his work area – a large square with cells either side. It was in the centre of the block, therefore busy with prisoners and warders walking through. The prisoners returning to their cells after completing their daily tasks and the warders on watch, walking to and fro. Not ideal for the person trying to wash the floor.
‘Get off there, you stupid idiot! Can’t you see it’s wet?’ Percy yelled at one of the prisoners who just walked over a newly washed area. The man ignored him.
Muttering angrily, Percy carried on. Just as he’d finished and stood back looking at his work and feeling pleased, someone walked behind him and in passing, kicked the bucket of dirty water over. The water swirled around Percy’s feet and all over his newly clean
ed floor. He spun round and looked straight into the eyes of Harry Matthews, who just glared at him and walked on, followed by three other men who were laughing.
Percy’s hands gripped the handle of the mop so tightly his knuckles were white. How he longed to use it on bloody Harry Matthews. ‘Bastard!’ he muttered quietly, but he knew there was nothing he could do and that really made him angry. He mopped up the water, swearing quietly to himself until he’d finished and returned to his cell. He kicked his chair over and sat on his bed, still fuming. He could wait, he thought. What was it that detective said? In time, everybody makes a mistake.
It was now early November and there was much excitement in the market and the Collins household as the wedding of Phoebe and Ben was to take place in three weeks’ time. Marj and Phoebe had gone to London for the day, hunting for a wedding dress. They’d been to several big stores and small shops but without success. Nothing had quite fitted the bill until Marj whisked her friend off to a back street, then up a rickety staircase and into a room that was stacked with rails of clothing. Materials of different types, from satin, velvet, different coloured nets, spilt out of boxes. It took Phoebe’s breath away.
‘Oh, Marj! This is like Aladdin’s cave. It’s wonderful!’
‘Marj!’ A woman emerged from behind a railing full of dresses. ‘Well, you old tart! How the devil are you after so long?’
The two women embraced. ‘Dolly, I want you to meet my dearest friend, Phoebe. She’s looking for a wedding dress. Phoebe, this is Dolly, an old mate of mine.’
‘Hello, love! Now, when’s the wedding?’
‘In three weeks’ time. It’s a quiet affair, just friends and family. I’d like something that I can wear again and I’m aware it will be on a cold day, although we don’t have far to walk to the hotel.’
‘For God’s sake, Phoebe, this is your wedding day, not a birthday party. Don’t you want to be frivolous?’ Marj looked at her in despair.
Dolly held up her hand and, turning to Marj, she said, ‘Now just leave the girl alone. Of course she feels frivolous, but she’s being sensible too. I wore my wedding dress only once and now it’s in a box. What bloody good is that?’ And to Phoebe, ‘Come here, love, take off your coat and let me measure you. Marj, you sit down and shut up!’
Phoebe was in her element as Dolly produced one dress after another while asking Phoebe about her fiancé. ‘Oh, a detective! You’ll be going to a police ball every year, so we’ll choose a dress that is fitting for that too. Now let me see …’
She took down a pale, coffee-coloured gown made of lace, with a round neck, long sleeves, dropped waist and a handkerchief skirt just below the knees. To this she added a rich brown velvet coat. The ensemble looked classy and expensive. Dolly looked at the girl in front of her, then disappeared, only to return with a cloche hat the same colour as the coat.
‘Here. Put this on.’
Phoebe did so and stood back looking at her refection in the mirror. ‘Oh, my goodness! Is that really me?’
‘Oh, Phoebe, love, you look just like a model. Ben will fall in love with you all over again when ’e sees you in that outfit!’
‘She’s right, love,’ Dolly agreed. ‘You couldn’t do no better than that.’
‘I love it, Dolly, but how much is it?’
‘You never mind about that,’ said Marj. ‘This is my wedding present to you.’ Tears filled her eyes. ‘I’ve waited so long to see you settled with a good man, one who will be kind to young Tim as well. Now I can relax and stop worrying about you.’
Phoebe hugged her friend, close to tears herself. ‘Oh, Marj, thank you so much.’
Dolly packed the outfit into a box with a handle for easy carrying. ‘Good luck, girl! Have a great wedding and a good life.’
On the train home, Phoebe was trying to sort out her plans for before the wedding. ‘Next week, we move into the new flat that Ben has rented. I’ve been packing everything away in boxes. Tim and Ben have helped too, otherwise I wouldn’t have been ready in time. Ben is staying at a friend’s house until the wedding. It’ll give me time to sort out the place for him to come home to.’ She sat back against the seat. ‘I can’t remember living anywhere else. It’ll be strange to leave. The house is full of memories of my parents. Tim being born, Dad going off to war, Mum filling the kitchen with her washing. It’s sad to go in one way, leaving all that behind.’
Marj reached for her hand. ‘But just think, love. You’ll be building new memories, your life with Ben, not your parents, God rest their souls. It’s the start of a new life, it’s exciting.’ She looked a little sad. ‘I wouldn’t mind starting another one meself.’
Phoebe looked at her. ‘You could, you know. Tony idolises you. You’re good together. You bounce off one another. You’d make a great team.’
‘I’m just not sure about living with a man again after so long, having to consider another person. I’ve become used to pleasing meself.’
Phoebe looked at her. ‘Do you want to be alone for the rest of your life, Marj? That can be very lonely. Coming home after a long day, no one to talk to. I know you’re used to that but as you get older, you need someone to come home to, to sit by the fire with, talk to. You should think seriously about it.’
Marj didn’t answer but she sat back, deep in thought.
Chapter Thirty-Two
It was the day of the wedding. It was a crisp November day, the sun was shining, albeit without much warmth to it. Marj was with Phoebe, helping her to dress and seeing that young Tim was all suited and booted as was fitting for his sister’s wedding. He had a new navy suit, a white shirt and navy patterned tie. He stood in front of the mirror, looking at his reflection, feeling very grown up. He was to give his sister away and was filled with pride at the privilege, especially as at the rehearsal, the vicar had praised him for doing a good job. Ben’s parents were coming from Gloucester and were staying at The Star hotel, where the wedding reception was to take place after the ceremony at St Michael’s Church. Ben had a fellow policeman as his best man.
The ceremony was at noon and Marj had arrived early and insisted that Phoebe and Tim sat down to tea and toast to sustain them until the wedding breakfast. She was resplendent in a dress, coat and an amazing hat with a broad brim and a feather that draped across the brim. She looked stunning and was delighted when both Tim and Phoebe poured praise upon her as she gave them a twirl on her arrival.
Eventually the car arrived to take them to the church. Tim and Phoebe sat in the back and Marj in front with the chauffeur. The car was bedecked in white ribbons, as was fitting.
When they arrived, Marj waited for the bride to get out and gave her a hug. ‘I’m off to my seat now, darling. Next time I speak to you, you’ll be Mrs Masters!’ Her words caught in her throat. ‘I’m away now or I’ll make a fool of meself. Enjoy this moment, Phoebe. It’s so special.’ She kissed her on the cheek and hurried into the church.
The curate was waiting by the door. ‘Are you ready, Miss Collins?’
Phoebe just nodded.
He gave a nod to the organist and the air was filled with the opening chords of ‘The Wedding March’. Phoebe took Tim’s arm. ‘Ready?’
He beamed at her. ‘Ready!’ They started to walk slowly down the aisle of this splendid church. As they did so, Phoebe glanced at members of the congregation, some of whom were the stallholders, a few friends of her mother, and Ben’s guests, whom she’d yet to meet. At the far end stood Ben and his best man. He turned and smiled at her as she neared him and when she arrived at his side, he took her hand.
‘You look lovely,’ he whispered and gave her hand a squeeze.
Phoebe smiled back, feeling her body relax as the vicar began the ceremony.
‘Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today …’
Eventually, after signing the register, the bride and groom walked back down the aisle and stood on the steps of the church as the congregation spilt out of the building and the photographer began to take his photo
graphs. Ben’s parents quickly gave Phoebe a hug and kiss, then stood in line as the photographer did his job, and at last the couple walked down the path to be showered with confetti before they escaped across the road to the hotel. As they reached the entrance, Ben drew Phoebe into his arms and kissed her.
‘Hello, Mrs Masters!’
She chuckled softly. ‘I do like the sound of that; in fact, I think I could get used to it very quickly.’
The doorman interrupted them. ‘They’re ready for you, sir, in the dining room.’
The two of them followed and then waited inside to greet their guests.
The meal was served. The mushroom soup was welcome, as it had been a chilly walk to the hotel, and the chicken that followed was succulent, served with mixed vegetables, followed by lemon tart and fresh cream. Bottles of white wine were placed on the tables and champagne served as the best man stood to give his speech. He regaled the guests of stories of Ben when he first joined the force. Many that were hilarious and then a couple that told of Ben’s bravery in given situations of which Phoebe had no knowledge but only proved to her what a brave man she’d married. Then he asked the guests to stand and toast the bride and groom, Phoebe and Ben. Which they did. Then Ben rose to his feet.
He began by thanking his guests for being there and sharing what was the happiest day of his life. ‘Sadly my wife’s father is no longer with us as he died fighting for his country, but if he was he would have been bursting with pride. His daughter Phoebe took over his place by looking after her family, her brother Tim and her mother, who sadly passed away not that long ago. She became the head of the house at a very early age and I’m the lucky person with whom she decided to share the rest of her life. But not only have I gained a wife today, but a son also, so I am doubly blessed. I hope to be as good a man to him as was his father. I am now in the position of being the man of the house instead of Phoebe and at last the responsibility for this family is mine. I could not be more proud and happy to do this. I ask you to drink to my new family, Phoebe and Tim!’