Knowing Joseph could see me come out of the front door, I went out the back door, through the side gate and round on to the main road the long way. Just in case he was watching out for me.
Then I crossed the road to the park and found him by the duck pond.
‘Esther,’ he said with genuine pleasure when I approached. ‘I found myself with nothing to do this morning so I decided to see if I could find you.’
‘Then I found you,’ I said, unable to keep the smile from my face. My efforts to keep Joseph away from my other life may have seemed ridiculous to the outside eye – not that there were any outside eyes – but I honestly felt they were worth it. The way my heart lifted when I saw him proved to me that I was right to do what I was doing.
‘As I got to Kennington, I realised I didn’t know where you live,’ he said, rolling his eyes at his own stupidity.
Deliberately misunderstanding his leading question, I looped my arm through his. ‘I’m here now,’ I said. ‘Shall we go for a walk? What an absolutely glorious day.’
We strolled round the duck pond, hand in hand, chatting about everything and nothing.
‘I’ve no duties this morning,’ I told him. ‘The girls are dancing and John is being terribly grown up and reading the newspaper with his father.’
‘What are you doing for the rest of the day?’ he asked.
‘Working.’ It wasn’t a complete lie, I thought. It was sort of work. ‘I have some jobs to do for Agnes.’
He made a face. ‘Me too. This evening, at least. I’m working overnight.’
‘Are there lots more crimes during the night?’
He thought about it. ‘Not always more crimes, but definitely different crimes.’
‘Daring night-time bank raids, and grave robbing?’ I joked.
He frowned. ‘More like murders.’
I winced. I didn’t remember the Whitechapel murders of course, but I knew the shadow they cast across that part of London was long.
‘What about daytime crimes?’ I asked hurriedly and then regretted it immediately as he frowned again.
‘Theft,’ he said. ‘Lots of thefts.’
I nodded. I’d heard about the hardship of life in the East End from Mrs Pankhurst’s daughter, Sylvia.
‘Desperate people stealing to survive.’
He snorted. ‘Sometimes, not always.’
Sensing we were on dangerous ground, I pointed out a mother duck with a trail of ducklings following after. ‘Sweet.’
He smiled down at me and I sighed inwardly in relief.
‘Joseph?’
A call from behind us made us turn round. Coming along the path was a constable in full uniform, beaming with pleasure at us.
‘Joseph Fairbanks!’ he shouted as he got closer.
‘Alf Simpson!’
He and Joseph slapped each other on the back in a noisy, vigorous fashion.
‘How have you been?’ Joseph said. ‘It’s been ages.’ He turned to me. ‘Alf and I trained together,’ he explained. ‘But he was sent over to west London – Acton was it?’
Alf nodded. ‘But I’ve been promoted,’ he said, puffing his chest up with pride. ‘Sergeant Simpson from Kennington Police Station at your service.’
‘So, you’ll be taking care of my girl,’ Joseph said proudly. ‘This is Esther Whitehouse.’
I wished I’d brought my hat so I could hide my face under it, but it was too late now. Keeping my eyes lowered, I shook Alf’s outstretched hand. This was getting rather complicated and I didn’t want to come across Alf at a march or a rally and have him recognise me. Imagine how awkward that would be for poor Joseph?
‘Pleased to meet you,’ I said.
‘You’re local, are you?’
I waved my hand vaguely in the direction of the main road. ‘Close to Royal Road,’ I said. I actually lived on Kennington Terrace, a few streets along, but I didn’t want to give too much away.
‘Joseph,’ I said, tugging his hand. ‘I have to be going. Agnes will need me to help with the children.’
‘Really?’ he said, disappointed.
‘I’m afraid so.’ I stood on tiptoes and kissed him gently on the cheek.
‘Maybe we could meet tomorrow?’
He nodded. ‘Late afternoon? At the tearoom on Camberwell New Road?’
I shook my head. ‘No, don’t come here, you’ll be tired if you’ve worked all night. I’ll come to Whitechapel. Same tearoom as before.’
He looked at Alf, pride in his eyes. ‘See how she cares for me?’
Alf nodded. ‘You’re a lucky man.’
I blew Joseph a kiss as I scurried away, hoping my path wouldn’t cross with Alf’s again. I did not want to become friendly with local police sergeants, no matter how much they flattered me.
‘In trouble?’
As I emerged from the park, I saw Minnie, leaning against a tree, watching me through narrowed eyes.
I stopped and looked round me, guiltily. ‘What?’
‘Saw you talking to a copper,’ she said. ‘You and another fella. Was that your Joseph? I’d have come over but then that bobby appeared and I thought I was best over here, out of your way.’
I wasn’t sure what to say. I knew I’d been rumbled. Minnie’s eyes were sharp and her mind was quick and I didn’t think I could concoct a convincing lie fast enough.
‘So what did he want? The copper?’
‘He was an old friend of Joseph’s,’ I said. ‘They knew each other a long time ago. But Alf – that’s the copper’s name – moved to Acton and they’d not caught up for a while.’
Minnie nodded. ‘Did he recognise you?’
‘No,’ I said, prickly at the thought. ‘They don’t have photographs of us pinned up in every police station, you know.’
‘They might,’ Minnie said.
‘There are too many of us, for a start.’
‘Whatever you say.’
‘We should go,’ I said, hurrying along the pavement and hoping she’d follow. ‘Agnes needs us to take the leaflets down to Camberwell.’
‘Your Joseph going to help?’
‘NO,’ I said vehemently, and then caught myself. ‘He’s working tonight.’
‘Overnight?’
I realised my mistake but I couldn’t go back now.
‘He works shifts.’
Minnie looked at me, thoughtfully. ‘What did you say he does? Your Joseph?’
What had I said? ‘Railways,’ I muttered. ‘Something on the railway.’
‘Hmm.’
She took my hand and pulled me round so I was facing her.
‘Esther, is your Joseph in the police?’
I wanted to lie, but I crumbled in the face of her piercing stare. ‘Yes,’ I admitted. ‘He’s a constable in Whitechapel.’
‘Bloody hell, Esther.’
‘I know,’ I wailed. ‘It’s impossible. But I like him so much.’
Minnie steered me to a bench and pushed me down to sitting.
‘This is lunacy,’ she said. ‘What on earth are you thinking?’
‘I’m not thinking anything.’
‘Obviously.’
‘He’s such a lovely bloke,’ I said. ‘I’m sure if I just told him, explained …’
Minnie groaned. ‘Told him what exactly? That you’ve been inside? That you spend your weekends smashing windows and causing trouble?’
‘It’s over,’ I protested weakly. ‘We’re finished with militant action. The bill will be passed in the autumn.’
‘I’ll believe it when I see it.’
‘I thought if I could wait it out, keep quiet until then, it would all be all right,’ I said. ‘He’s a good man, a clever man; he’ll understand why we do what we do. I just don’t want to make life difficult for him.’
Minnie shook her head. ‘This is a war,’ she said. ‘You’re an enemy sympathiser.’
‘Oh for heaven’s sake, Min, don’t be so dramatic.’
But her face was stony. ‘Remember the mee
ting the other day?’ she said. ‘With the rats?’
I shuddered. How could I forget?
‘You heard the talk that it was coppers that released the rats into the room.’
‘No,’ I said. ‘That’s not true.’ But as I said it, I remembered seeing the two policemen laughing at the women fleeing from the meeting, skirts hitched high. Was it true?
‘They hate us,’ Minnie said. ‘And we hate them. There is no middle ground.’
‘Well not now, but in a few months, perhaps?’
She shrugged. ‘You really believe that?’
I slumped against the cold metal back of the bench, suddenly feeling utterly despairing. ‘Yes,’ I said. ‘No. I just know that I like him, Minnie. He’s funny and kind, and he makes me laugh and God knows I could do with a laugh every now and then. And he makes my chest swell, and my heart sing, and my head spin. I want to be with him – even though he’s a copper – and he wants to be with me.’
‘He don’t know, though, that you’re a suffragette?’
‘No,’ I admitted.
‘Going to tell him?’
‘No.’
‘Going to tell Agnes and the others that your fella is a copper?’
‘No.’ I looked at her. ‘Are you?’
Her steely glare softened. ‘No,’ she said. ‘No, that’s down to you, Esther.’
I nodded. ‘I’ll work out a way,’ I said. ‘It’s going to be all right, I know it is.’
Minnie looked at a spot over my head and gave the tiniest of nods. ‘If you say so,’ she said. ‘I just hope you’re right.’
Chapter 23
Esther
I didn’t get a chance to talk to Minnie about Joseph again, because we were kept busy gathering our leaflets and heading down to Camberwell. Agnes was coming with us, so we couldn’t chat about anything other than WSPU business.
‘You know the drill, girls,’ she said, as shared out the bundles of leaflets. ‘We’re heading to the market at the bottom of Camberwell New Road. Stay together, hand out leaflets, we shouldn’t have any trouble.’
She stood up, but staggered a little as she did so and sat down again quickly, hand to her forehead.
I rushed to her side, concerned. ‘Agnes? Are you ill?’
She had a greenish tinge to her skin as she looked at me. ‘I have just come over a little queasy,’ she said.
‘Minnie, could you fetch Agnes a glass of water?’
Minnie scurried off to the kitchen and I sat down on the arm of the settee where Agnes was and looked at her, sternly.
‘Have you eaten properly today?’
She nodded. ‘I’m fine, honestly. Maybe just tired.’
I frowned and she sighed. ‘I think I’m pregnant,’ she said. ‘Again.’
‘That’s lovely news.’
She scowled at me. ‘It will be lovely eventually. I suppose it will be lovely. But it always knocks me off at first.’
I patted her hand. ‘Go upstairs and rest. Minnie and I can do the leaflets.’
‘Really?’
‘Of course.’
She looked as though she was going to argue, then changed her mind.
‘You’ll be all right?’
‘You said yourself that there was nothing difficult about it. It’s only leaflets.’
She nodded. ‘Go on then.’ She stood up, steadying herself with a hand on my shoulder and made for the door, taking the glass of water from Minnie who’d brought it as asked. ‘Please don’t mention anything to John yet.’
‘My lips are sealed.’
She plodded off upstairs and I felt sorry for her. She obviously didn’t think another baby was the blessing I thought it was. Still, she had me to help, and Meg was of an age now where she’d be more than happy to lend a hand. It would be fine.
‘Come on then, if we’re going.’ Minnie gave me a shove and I wobbled off the arm of the settee, laughing.
‘Let’s go.’
We picked up our leaflets, and hoisted on our sandwich boards with the details of the meeting on them and slowly walked down Camberwell New Road towards the market. There would be lots of women there, buying supplies, and it was a good place to spread the word.
It was a warm day, and our sandwich boards were heavy so it took a while to walk there, but once we arrived we found a good spot close to the fruit and veg stall. We took off our boards and propped them up on the pavement for everyone to see.
‘Votes for women!’ we called as we handed out leaflets. ‘Come to the meeting in Caxton Hall.’
‘What’s the bloody point?’ one woman muttered as she hurried past. ‘It’s not for the likes of us.’
‘It’s for everyone,’ I called after her hunched back. ‘It’s for all of us.’
‘You’d do better if you stuck to the law,’ a man shouted from near the fruit and veg stand.
Minnie narrowed her eyes. ‘Laws mean nothing to me, because I’m not allowed to make them.’
‘Yeah? Well you’ll soon find out they mean something when they chuck you in Holloway.’
She gave him an impish smile and pointed to the badge on her lapel. ‘Been there,’ she said. She put her fists up, like a boxer. ‘It’s where I learned to fight.’
The crowd jeered, half supporting Minnie, half against her.
‘Leave it, Min,’ I said. I turned away to hand a leaflet to a woman walking by. Suddenly something hit me – splat – on the side of the face. I put my hand up and felt oozy rotten tomato running down my cheek.
‘What?’ I said, turning back as another tomato hit me square in the chest, leaving a large red stain on the front of my dress.
‘That shut you up,’ the man said in delight. He picked up another tomato from a box on the floor and threw it. This time it hit Minnie smack in the face, dripping down into her eyes.
‘You sod,’ she shouted, scraping it off and trying to throw it back.
And then suddenly, we were being pelted by all sorts of rotten fruit and veg. A potato hit me hard at the side of my eye and the oozy tomato stench was joined with the metallic smell of my blood as it trickled down my face. Minnie was whacked with stinking cabbage leaves, and then more tomatoes.
A woman – a bloody woman – threw mouldy strawberries at me, the juice stinging the cut by my eye.
‘Stop that,’ I shouted, grabbing the punnet from her and throwing the whole lot in her face. Behind me, someone pulled my hair, yanking my head back.
‘Don’t you treat my wife like that,’ a man shouted. The woman smirked as he shoved a whole load of rotten berries into my face. I couldn’t breathe as his big hand covered my nose and mouth and I kicked out, wriggling frantically to be free.
‘Choke on this,’ he said. Desperate I clamped my teeth into his finger and he reeled away, leaving me gasping for air.
‘Minnie,’ I panted, bent double as I caught my breath. ‘We have to go.’
I looked up to see she was being pummelled by the man who’d started this. He was properly squaring up to her, fists raised, and her face was bruised already.
‘Minnie,’ I squeaked. I launched myself at the man, who’d just landed a punch on Minnie’s purpling cheek, and I hung off his back, hitting him and trying to get him to stop.
‘Stop it, you’re hurting her, stop it,’ I shrieked. ‘Get off her.’
I heard police whistles and running feet and then hands pulled me off Minnie’s attacker’s back. I twisted and squirmed in their grip as they turned me round.
‘Get off, let me go,’ I said, furious that they’d got hold of me and not the man, who’d stopped hitting Minnie – thankfully – but who seemed to have disappeared. ‘We’re not the criminals here.’
‘Calm down, Miss,’ the policeman holding me said. ‘No need to get hysterical.’
He yanked me round to face him and to my absolute horror, I recognised him. It was Joseph’s friend Alf, from the park earlier. There was the tiniest moment when I thought he was going to recognise me, too, and I knew I couldn’
t possibly let that happen.
Minnie was to my right, breathing heavily, bleeding from her nose. I glanced at her. She was okay. We’d make it, I thought.
‘Minnie?’ I said.
She nodded. ‘Esther.’
Breathing in deeply, I pulled my knee up and kicked Alf as hard as I could between his legs.
‘RUN!’ I bellowed and hitching up my skirt, I raced back towards the main road, hoping Minnie was following.
I could hear running behind me, and I glanced back to check it was Minnie. Thankfully it was. I could see Alf doubled over by the fruit and veg stall and felt a tiny glimmer of guilt – but not too much.
Minnie pulled my arm. ‘Down here,’ she said, ducking down an alley between two rows of houses.
I followed her along the passage, hearing distant shouts and whistles. ‘They’re coming,’ I warned.
She shook her head. ‘They won’t know to look down here.’
‘They might.’
She gave me one of her cheeky grins and pulled me faster along the narrow alleyway and out on to the next road, then quick as a flash she ducked into the front garden of the house on the corner and banged on the door.
‘Minnie?’ I was horrified at the noise, and the sheer brass neck of her. ‘We can’t just go into someone’s house.’
‘We can go into this one.’
The shouts were getting louder, and my heart was beating so hard I thought it might jump out of my chest.
Minnie knocked again and the door was flung open by a young man with a dour expression.
‘Gilbert,’ Minnie gasped. ‘Can we come in?’
‘In trouble again, Min?’ he said, not sounding at all surprised.
‘Not yet,’ she said. ‘But we will be if you don’t let us in.’
To my utter relief, he stepped back and we both fell into the house, shutting the door firmly behind us.
I leaned against the front door, still breathing heavily, as Minnie threw her arms round Gloomy Gilbert, who looked pleased enough at the show of affection to make me wonder about the accuracy of his nickname.
‘I thought we were toast,’ she gasped. ‘Gil, Esther kicked the constable in his you-know-whats.’
‘Sergeant,’ I said. ‘He’s a sergeant.’
‘He’s a poor sod is what he is,’ said Gilbert, mildly.
The Secret Letter Page 13