Consequences

by Nancy Carson

  ‘Sampson.’ The other young man smirked at this, noticed by Marigold. She imagined the word Delilah was very likely floating somewhere inside his head. ‘Mrs Aurelia Sampson,’ she added.

  The spectacles opened a book. ‘Would you please write your name here?’ He politely offered her a blacklead, which she took. She wrote down her name. Then he took a slip of paper and asked her to write her name on that too.

  ‘Please be so kind as to take a seat in our waiting room at the end of the corridor, and I’ll see if Mr Round has time to see you,’ he said with a smile, holding the piece of paper.

  The corridor, where the man with the brace and bit was still working, grew darker the further they ventured into it. The waiting room was equally dingy, equally dusty, equally linoleumed, but less cramped and almost devoid of cigarette smoke. It was a spartan affair, but for two upright wooden chairs sited on either side of a small table, all of which had seen better days, seemingly acquired from a house clearance. On top of the table sat a well-thumbed copy of Blocksidge’s Almanack, Diary and Directory for Dudley and Netherton. Aurelia picked it up and immediately put it down again when she saw it was dated 1889. A grimy window, the frame of which had not seen a lick of paint in many a long year, looked out onto an uninspiring courtyard surrounded on all sides by drab red-brick buildings of random heights, which were topped with blue slate roofs sloping at various angles.

  ‘I wonder which Mr Round you’ll get to see?’ Marigold remarked in a whisper.

  ‘I don’t suppose it matters much. I’ll soon find out if they’re capable of advising me.’

  ‘I wonder if they’m father and son.’

  ‘Brothers, maybe…’

  They speculated about the firm in whispers for some time before the spectacles reappeared.

  ‘Mr Round will see you very shortly, Mrs Sampson,’ he said, and disappeared into the smoky lair he shared with his colleague.

  * * *

  After about a quarter of an hour, murmuring quietly to each, the door opened. A rotund man with greying hair, about fifty years old, thrust his bespectacled head around it. He beamed when he saw two handsome young women.

  ‘Mrs Aurelia Sampson?’ he uttered, looking questioningly from one to the other.

  Mrs Aurelia Sampson immediately stood up, and shook the hand that he offered.

  ‘At your service, ma’am. I understand you wish to discuss a legal matter.’

  ‘I do indeed,’ she responded self-assuredly.

  ‘Alone, or with your companion?’

  ‘My sister will wait for me here.’

  ‘Very well, Mrs Sampson. If you would care to follow me…’

  As he led Aurelia through more dim passages to his room, he introduced himself as George Round, a partner in the practice. His abode was less shabby and less dusty than the rest of the accommodation. It was bigger, and boasted a Turkey carpet placed in front of a stone fireplace in which a coal fire burned brightly. Next to the fire stood a brass coal scuttle replete with lumps of shining black coal. Despite the fire’s glow, the scuttle and the Turkey carpet, the ambience was gloomy. George Round invited Aurelia to sit on a hard wooden chair facing his desk, while he descended into a leather-clad armchair that creaked under his weight and revolved into place like a globe on its axis.

  ‘So how can we help you, Mrs Sampson?’ His manner was reassuring.

  She opened her leather bag, withdrew the papers that the man Lissimore had served on her, and passed them to Mr Round.

  ‘Ah, from our friends at Cravens, I see. Hmm…a divorce petition. We don’t see too many of these.’

  ‘I’d like to know whether you could act for me?’ Aurelia said, fearing they would not know how to handle a divorce.

  ‘I see no reason why we couldn’t.’ He began to read the petition to himself, but audibly. When he had finished, he looked up and said, ‘So your husband wishes to divorce you for your alleged adultery with…’ he consulted the papers again, and looked at Aurelia over his glasses, ‘a Mr Algernon Stokes?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And do you wish to defend this action?’

  ‘I openly admit my adultery, Mr Round,’ she answered unflinchingly. ‘So there is little point in defending it. However, I need to know where I stand as regards the outcome. I have a small son, but I fear that my husband is likely to win custody. I also need to know whether he can throw me out of his house while all this is in progress, because I have nowhere else to go. Also, I would like to know what my legal costs are likely to be. I have very little money of my own, you see.’

  ‘Well, first of all, your legal costs – if Cravens are doing their job properly, they will have already asked your husband to give security for your costs.’

  ‘If that’s how it works, then it’s something of a relief.’

  ‘It’s one less worry for you, Mrs Sampson. As to custody – does your husband have the wherewithal to look after a small child – a nanny, or close relative – since it’s reasonable to assume he goes to business during the day?’

  Aurelia smiled. ‘My husband has a mistress who has already had a child by him.’ George Round raised his eyebrows at this revelation, expressing increased interest. ‘I believe,’ Aurelia continued, ‘that he has set her up in a rented house as his kept woman. I’m assuming he would expect her to look after my son at any rate. Ironically, she used to be my son’s nanny at our marital home, so it’s not as if the child doesn’t know her.’

  ‘The plot thickens, Mrs Sampson. Do you have any witnesses to your husband’s affair with your son’s erstwhile nanny?’

  ‘Only my own certain knowledge.’

  ‘You should understand that the conducting of a sexual affair with an employed servant, in one’s own marital home, could be construed as mental cruelty to the deceived spouse. We could arrange to challenge a judge on that count. Would you be prepared to consider divorcing your husband, therefore?’

  Aurelia shook her head. ‘No. Of course, I’ve thought about it, but no.’

  ‘If you could prove desertion, mental cruelty, rape, incest or…pardon me…buggery, you would have an excellent case.’

  ‘Apart from my husband’s dallying with the nanny we employed, he has never tried to rape me, or been violent with me in any way. Nor has he withheld money or any creature comforts from me.’

  ‘Do you still share a bed with your husband, Mrs Sampson?’

  ‘Not anymore.’

  Mr Round accepted her response with a nod. ‘And this Mr Algernon Stokes…does he intend to defend the action against him?’

  ‘I don’t believe so. Are you able to act for the two of us?’

  ‘Of course. Naturally, you would have to send Mr Stokes along to see us.’

  ‘Yes, I can do that.’

  ‘Is the affair with Mr Stokes still…er…going on?’

  ‘It ended some while ago.’

  ‘But he admits to the affair, as do you?’

  ‘Yes. He also admits to being the father of my second child.’

  ‘I see. Thank you for being so candid, Mrs Sampson. Very well. As to your own situation, you are entitled to remain in the marital home while you are still married, as long as it is expedient for you to do so.’

  Aurelia smiled. She did not enjoy Holly Hall House, but it was shelter until something more fitting came her way. If needs be, she could call on the temporary hospitality of her Aunt Edith again, as she had before.

  ‘So what will happen now?’ she asked.

  ‘A date will be set for a hearing in London—’

  ‘In London?’

  ‘Yes, London – the Royal Courts of Justice. There your husband’s plea will be heard and considered. We have agents in London who will look after matters at that end. If you and your co-respondent Mr Stokes admit to the affair, then there will be no need for your husband to present witnesses, so it should be a fairly straightforward case. However, it would be in your own interest to attend the hearing if you wish to plead for custody of your chil
d, Mrs Sampson.’

  Aurelia nodded. It had been many years since she had been to London.

  ‘A decree nisi should then be granted. A decree nisi does not legally end a marriage, you understand. It simply means that the court granting it is satisfied that the petitioner – your husband – has proved the contents of the petition and is entitled to his divorce. The decree nisi is a statement by the court to the effect that if there is no valid reason presented to the contrary within six months, the petitioner will be entitled to apply for decree absolute, and thereby dissolve the marriage.’

  ‘Does that mean I can remain in the house until such time as the decree absolute is granted – six months?’

  ‘Yes, if life there does not become too acrimonious.’

  ‘Thank you, Mr Round. So are you prepared to act for me and Mr Stokes?’

  ‘We’d be delighted, Mrs Sampson.’

  * * *

  Chapter 14

  ‘How did you get on?’ Marigold enquired in a whisper, itching to know the outcome of the meeting.

  ‘Let’s find a café for something to eat and drink, and I’ll tell you. I’m trembling a little after that interview. Maybe it’s because I’m hungry.’

  They passed through the gloomy corridors of Round & Round, following the beacon of light from the open front door, and emerged into the September sunshine. Once on the street, Aurelia was brutally bumped into by one bonnetless female, evidently in a hurry.

  ‘So sorry,’ the hasty female said, with a sincere apology in her eyes. ‘Oh, it’s you, Aurelia. Goodness, you must think me so ill mannered. You as well, Marigold,’ she added, repentantly touching Marigold’s arm. ‘Fancy seeing you two.’

  ‘Priss!’ Aurelia exclaimed. ‘Fancy seeing you.’

  ‘It’s close to my school,’ she wittered. ‘Only down the road, and I’d just popped out in my dinner time. I’m in a heck of a rush to get back, to tell you the truth – I have to finish preparing a lesson. I do hope I haven’t hurt you, Aurelia, crashing into you like that. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to flatten you.’

  ‘I’m all right, Priss, don’t worry. Pity you are in such a hurry. Marigold and I are about to find a café in the town for a sandwich and a pot of tea. You could have joined us.’

  ‘If only I could…The Midland Café in the Market Place is very good, and they have ladies’ dining and tea rooms. It’s all very cosy.’

  ‘Come on then, we’ll go there, on your recommendation.’

  ‘No, I can’t, Aurelia. What a pity. Like I say, I have so much to do.’

  ‘You’ve changed your hairstyle,’ Marigold observed. ‘I like it. It suits you.’

  ‘D’you really think so, Marigold?’ Priss’s eyes sparkled at the compliment and she smiled appreciatively.

  ‘I do. Don’t you think so, Aurelia?’

  ‘Oh, your hair,’ Aurelia replied, scrutinising the tonsorial artistry as applied to Priss’s head. ‘I thought there was something different about you, but it wasn’t immediately obvious. I normally see you wearing a bonnet. I agree, though, it suits you better.’

  ‘Aurelia has other things on her mind,’ Marigold remarked, in defence of Aurelia’s preoccupation.

  Priss noticed the shining brass plaque bearing the word ‘Solicitors’, but made no comment. Her new hairdo was the loftier topic, its significance was of greater importance and she was keen to explain it.

  ‘As a matter of fact, the reason I’ve had it done is because I’m seeing Cuthbert,’ as if everybody in the world was aware of Cuthbert.

  ‘Cuthbert?’ Aurelia queried.

  ‘Isn’t that the curate chap?’ Marigold suggested. ‘The chap who married Harriet and Clarence? Isn’t he a Cuthbert.’

  ‘Oh, of course.’ Overshadowed by all her recent travails, Aurelia had forgotten this particular Cuthbert and his alleged ancestors, but then recalled that the curate had been showing some interest in Priss at the wedding. ‘How clever of you, Marigold, for remembering.’

  Priss’s eyes shone with anticipation. ‘Oh, since then I’ve seen him a few times – and we seem to get on ever so well. I’m seeing him again tonight after our flower rota meeting, so I thought I owed it to myself – and to him – to have a change of hairstyle and generally spruce myself up. Something a bit more modish.’

  ‘Well,’ Aurelia said, ‘how lovely to hear of some romance in the air for a change. I assume it is a romantic tryst tonight with the curate, Priss?’

  Priss was richly blushing and she covered her face momentarily with her hands. ‘I can scarcely believe it, but yes. So far, so good.’

  ‘I’m that pleased for you, Priss,’ Marigold remarked sincerely, touching Priss’s arm. ‘Harriet reckons you’ve been carrying a torch for him for ages.’

  ‘Oh, a furiously blazing one, I have to admit.’

  ‘Well, we wish you all the very best, don’t we Marigold?’

  Marigold nodded.

  ‘And you, Aurelia?’ Priss queried with a look of consternation. ‘I’m sorry, but I can’t help noticing you’ve just stepped out of that solicitor’s office…but I won’t pry. Anyway, it’s so lovely to see you both. I really must fly.’

  ‘Do give our best wishes to Harriet and Clarence.’

  ‘I will,’ said Priss over her shoulder as she speedily departed.

  ‘That’ll get tongues wagging,’ Marigold said, ‘now she’s seen us leaving a solicitor’s office.’

  ‘I know,’ Aurelia answered gloomily. ‘You can just imagine the gossip…’

  * * *

  Speculation about Aurelia’s outing came to a head on the day of the final cricket match of the season. Benjamin Sampson had previously informed the captain that he would be available for selection, and he was twelfth man. When one of the more regular team players was indisposed, he found himself batting at number six, partnering Clarence Froggatt at the club’s ground at Silver End in Brierley Hill. Come tea, Clarence and Benjamin walked side by side, heading for the flimsy construction that served as a pavilion.

  ‘I feel it my duty to let you know, Ben, that there are some unsavoury rumours floating about, regarding you and Aurelia.’ Clarence spoke quietly, not wishing to be overheard, as he took off his gloves which he stowed in his pocket, and thrust his bat under his arm.

  ‘What sort of rumours?’ Benjamin replied, likewise engaged in doffing and stowing his batting gloves.

  Clarence looked about him to ascertain whether anyone was within earshot. ‘Well…I understand that my sister-in-law, Priss Meese, happened to meet Aurelia and Algie Stokes’s wife as they came out of a solicitor’s office in Dudley the other day.’

  Benjamin shrugged dismissively. ‘What of it?’ he retorted, irritated that Clarence was obviously prying.

  ‘Well…it’s being put about that Aurelia might be commencing a divorce action against you. Frankly, there’s been talk, Ben, of you and another woman, you know…Not that it’s any of my business, of course.’ Indeed, it was none of Clarence’s business, but a natural curiosity was driving him, because of his former liaison with Aurelia. Anything Aurelia did was of interest.

  By this time, they had reached the pavilion.

  ‘Where do folk get their strange ideas from, eh?’ Benjamin grabbed a mug of tea from the trestle laid out for the team, and handed it to Clarence.

  ‘Thanks.’ Clarence rested his bat against the wall and took the mug of tea.

  ‘Cake?’ he enquired.

  ‘Please.’

  Benjamin handed over a plate on which lay a slice of fruit cake, then acquired a slice of the same plus a mug of tea for himself.

  ‘Let’s go back outside, Clarence.’ He was conscious of the close proximity of snooping ears, for this subject Clarence had introduced needed airing at a respectful distance from everybody else.

  ‘So I take it that’s not the case,’ Clarence suggested when they were comfortably segregated. He placed his mug of tea on the grassy ground and took a bite of cake.

  Benjamin copied him
. ‘You can take it from me that it’s not quite as you’ve put it. Aurelia went to see a solicitor in order to defend the divorce petition I’m bringing against her,’ he explained.

  ‘You’re divorcing Aurelia?’ Clarence’s consternation was palpable.

  ‘I certainly am, yes. For her adultery.’

  ‘Her adultery?’ Clarence questioned, suddenly horror-stricken.

  ‘I don’t take kindly to being cuckolded, Clarence,’ he said with an acute attack of self-righteousness. ‘And I’m hanged if I’m going to tolerate it or excuse it, especially when there’s a child as a consequence.’

  ‘What? You mean…?’

  ‘I mean that Aurelia had an affair, and this last child was fathered by the other bounder.’

  ‘Your second child?’ Clarence said, incredulous.

  ‘No. Not mine.’

  ‘Not yours? And she’s admitted it?’

  ‘She has now.’

  ‘And do you know who this other fellow is?’

  ‘Oh, you can be sure I do, Clarence. It’s none other than our mutual friend Algie Stokes.’

  ‘Algie Stokes?’ Clarence stood with open-mouthed astonishment. ‘But…’

  ‘Listen to me, Clarence – this’ll be common knowledge enough when it gets to court and the newspapers get hold of it, but in the meantime I’d appreciate you not blabbing it about indiscreetly. You know how it is.’

  ‘Oh, you can depend on my discretion, Ben. It’s just that I’m dumbfounded. I would never have believed…’ He would never have believed, because it irked him to learn that Algie Stokes had evidently succeeded in seducing Aurelia, stirring up emotions within him which he struggled to quell at any time. Once he had loved Aurelia with all his heart, and she had never entirely vacated it. Still he felt jealousy. But now he also felt acute resentment for Algie Stokes.

  ‘You had a lucky escape,’ Ben said, like a man of the world. ‘Be thankful you never married her. Be thankful I came along and spared you all that.’ He took a bite of cake and allowed Clarence to digest the information he’d just imparted.

  ‘I got to know Algie when I was courting his sister Kate, and I got the impression then that he’s a bit hot-blooded…But even so…’