by June Tate
Returning to her cell, Daisy sat on the chair by the table and sighed. Belle looked over at her.
‘Trouble?’ she enquired, which was unusual.
‘My case comes up in two weeks’ time,’ Daisy told her. ‘I’m dreading it.’
‘At least you’ll be a free woman after.’
Forgetting that Belle didn’t like to be questioned, Daisy asked, ‘How much longer will you be in here, Belle?’
‘Until they take me out in a box,’ she stated as if it was of no importance.
‘Oh, Belle, that’s terrible, I’m so sorry.’ Daisy didn’t know what to say.
The other woman shrugged. ‘At least I escaped the rope.’
Daisy looked at her with horror.
Belle rolled a cigarette and, for the first time, held a proper conversation with her cell-mate.
‘I caught my husband in bed with his mistress … in my bloody bed would you believe? So I blew my top and killed the pair of them. I got off on a lesser charge of manslaughter as it wasn’t premeditated, but I got life. I’ve got used to being here by now.’
Daisy was speechless. No wonder the others kept out of her way; she had nothing to lose if they ever caused her grief and she retaliated. The old saying ‘strange bedfellows’ came into Daisy’s mind. It was never more true than at this moment.
Twenty-Four
In the morning of the first day of her trial, Daisy Gilbert dressed carefully in a clean skirt and blouse, packed her meagre belongings and waited for a warder to collect her from her cell. She’d scarcely eaten at breakfast, but had managed some bread and a scraping of butter. Now sitting at the table in her cell, she was full of uncertainty. Would she be returning here tonight? Edward had told her that the trial would take several days. She fought the feeling of nausea that swept over her.
A warder appeared at the door of the cell. ‘Right, Gilbert, we’re ready for you now.’
Belle looked at Daisy and with a half smile said, ‘Good luck.’
Too full to say much, Daisy tried to smile back. ‘Thanks … for everything.’
The drive to the Old Bailey in the Black Maria seemed endless, but eventually they arrived and Daisy was hustled into a room where her solicitor and a man in gown and wig stood waiting for her.
Edward took her hand and squeezed it. ‘This is Quentin de la Hay, your council. He wants to have a few words with you before we go into court.’
The barrister shook her firmly by the hand and in a deep, well-educated voice, went over various parts of her statement, filling in the details which he would use in her defence.
Then holding her gaze he said, ‘I will lead you in my questions, Miss Gilbert, and you’ll have no difficulty in understanding what I want to know. Just answer simply and truthfully. You will be cross-questioned by the prosecuting council and I want you to remain calm when he does. It is his brief to make out that you are guilty of this unfortunate incident, so just answer clearly, and again tell the truth. Don’t let him confuse you or bait you. Just answer a direct question, don’t comment otherwise. If you aren’t sure, stop and think before you reply to his questions. I will be there to protect you, have no fear.’
Daisy could feel her heart racing and her nerves tingle with the anticipation of what was ahead of her. ‘I’ll do my best,’ she said.
He took her by the hand. ‘Try not to worry, there’s a good girl. I’ll see you in court.’ He left Daisy and Edward alone.
‘I’m scared to death,’ she confessed to the solicitor.
‘No one likes going to court, Daisy. But you’re in very good hands, I promise.’
‘Is my mother here?’
‘Yes, she’s with Grace Portman. You’ll be able to see them later.’
Soon after this, Daisy was called into court. She walked up the stairs and took her place in the dock, where she was told by the policewoman to sit on the chair that was there.
Daisy looked around. She saw her mother and Grace sitting together, looking somewhat pensive, although they both smiled and waved at her. She noticed that Giles was sitting on the other side of her friend. The barrister, in his gown and wig, nodded to her. She looked up suddenly as the jury entered and took their places. She returned their looks of curiosity and thought I suppose they are looking to see if I have the look of a murderess, but what would one look like?
‘All rise,’ called the clerk of the court as the judge entered and took his seat, resplendent in a red robe and wig.
Both barristers spoke to the jury, laying out their case, before sitting down. Quentin de la Hay called his first witness.
Harry Blake, the barman, walked into the court and entered the witness box, where he was sworn in. He was smartly dressed in a dark-grey suit, white shirt and striped tie.
‘Are you Harry Blake, of 20 Union Street, Southampton?’ asked Daisy’s barrister.
‘I am.’
‘Were you once employed as barman at the Solent Club in Bernard Street?’
‘Yes, sir. Until recently. I had worked there for three years before that.’
‘Please tell the court how you know the witness, Miss Daisy Gilbert.’
‘Daisy came to work as a barmaid because she needed the extra money to pay the fees at a private nursing home for her father, who was dying.’
‘How do you know that?’
‘She told me. She used to confide in me a lot.’
Daisy watched her friend, full of regret that he had to appear in court on her behalf. But he appeared to be very comfortable while giving his evidence.
‘While she was working behind the bar did she meet the deceased, Ken Woods?’
‘Yes, sir, he was a regular customer.’
‘Did he have anything to do with Miss Gilbert, other than be served drinks by her?’
‘No, sir. He did used to pester her, asking her out, but she refused. I warned her about him, because he was a bad lot.’
‘Objection!’ The council for the prosecution rose to his feet.
‘I am trying to establish Woods’ character and any association he might or might not have had with the witness, my lord,’ said de la Hay, referring to the judge.
‘I’ll allow it.’
‘Why did you feel the need to warn Daisy Gilbert?’
‘Well Woods could be very rough with women, it was a known fact,’ continued Harry.
‘Isn’t it true he used to pay for the services of the various hostesses in the club?’
‘Yes, sir. In fact he was only allowed to pay for one of the girls on the understanding that he treated her without any rough stuff and I didn’t want Daisy mixed up with him.’
‘Did Miss Gilbert always work as a barmaid?’
Harry hesitated, glanced over at Daisy, then said, ‘No, sir.’
‘What else did she do?’
Taking a deep breath Harry said, ‘She worked during the day as a seamstress and when her boss found out she worked as a barmaid in the Solent Club, she fired her, so Daisy was in a state because she wasn’t earning enough to pay her father’s fees.’ He stopped talking.
‘And what did she do about it?’
‘She gave up bar work and became a hostess.’
Smiling at Harry, the barrister posed his next question. ‘That must have pleased Ken Woods because now he had access to her.’
‘Well no he didn’t, sir, because she refused his offer.’
‘Offer, what offer?’
‘Daisy was a virgin, and there was a bidding war as to who would pay the most to be her first punter.’ He ignored the buzz that went round the court at this revelation and continued. ‘But Daisy made it very clear to Flo Cummings, the owner of the club, that on no account would she accept any offer from Ken Woods.’
Daisy hid her head in her hands, not daring to look at her mother or the members of the jury.
‘How did he react to that?’
‘He was bloody furious! Begging your pardon. He swore he’d have her one way or another.’
‘Isn�
��t it true, Mr Blake, that you paid a call on Ken Woods in his office to warn him off?’
‘Yes, sir, I did. Woods don’t take kindly to rejection and I was worried as to what he might do. Daisy Gilbert is a good girl and was forced into this position only because she wanted the best for her dad, a man with only weeks to live. Then she told me that Woods had grabbed her when she was walking home one night. Luckily she got away, so I thought I ought to have a word with him.’
‘Did he agree to leave Miss Gilbert alone?’
‘Yes, sir, he did but I never trusted the man and told Daisy to keep a look out for him.’
‘Thank you, Mr Blake. No further questions.’
The council for the prosecution rose to his feet. Smiling at Harry he said, ‘A good girl? Surely no good girl would put herself in a position to sell her body to all and sundry?’
Harry stared back at the man. ‘Only a really good girl would make such a sacrifice for her own father.’
‘Why didn’t she decide to bring him home, then she wouldn’t have had to make such a sacrifice? Surely that was the only real solution? The decent thing to do.’
‘She was going to do that until one day when she visited the old man and he told her that he wanted to stay put as it would be too much for her mother to cope with and Daisy then felt she had no choice. I tried to talk her out of it, but her father’s welfare came before her own reputation.’
No matter how he tried to tarnish Daisy by his cross-questioning, Harry always had an answer and eventually the barrister ended his examination and Harry left the witness box.
Daisy heard the next witness called and was astonished when Stella walked into the court. Under questioning she told the same story as to why Daisy became one of Flo Cummings’ girls and how reluctant she was to do so. And once again the prosecutor had little room to manoeuvre.
Then the call for a lunch break came and Daisy was taken back to the room where she spoke with her representatives before her mother and Grace joined her.
Daisy ran into her mother’s arms. ‘I’m so sorry you had to hear all this,’ she cried.
‘Now then, less of this. There’s no reason for you to be ashamed, you did what you thought was right for Dad. Now eat some of these sandwiches and drink some coffee, you’ll feel better then.’
Grace and Daisy chatted about the shop to stop them thinking about the return to the court. The business was going along nicely it seemed, with the girls working hard, all anxious to know the result of the case, longing for Daisy to be released and for things to get back to normal.
When the court resumed, Daisy once again took her place in the dock.
Several people were called to attest to Woods’ dodgy reputation. Names given to the barrister by Harry, who with his expert knowledge of the seedy characters who would be willing to testify, were useful towards building the case for Daisy’s benefit. It seemed a long day to all concerned and it was with some relief when it came to a close.
‘Try and get a good night’s sleep, Daisy,’ Quentin told her, ‘because tomorrow, I’m putting you in the witness box.’
Daisy felt her stomach sink at the thought.
‘I’m pleased as to how things went in there today,’ he said. ‘Your friend Harry was a great witness as I thought he would be, but tomorrow is important. Don’t wear any make-up. Keep your hair simple as I want you to look as innocent as possible. And don’t worry; I’ll take care of you.’
Giles had taken Grace and Vera to a hotel for a meal after they had chatted with Daisy. He felt they both needed some sustenance after such a long day. He and Grace tried to cheer Vera, without much success. The case hung heavily over them all.
Daisy was taken to spend a night in a cell of a local police station to save the journey to and from Holloway. At least it was quiet, apart from a drunk who was kept in overnight to sober up. He soon fell asleep and so eventually did Daisy.
In the morning she was taken to the bathroom to freshen up before travelling back to the Old Bailey.
The court resumed again and Daisy was called to give evidence. She stood in the witness box and took the oath, her hands trembling. She gripped the edge of the box to give herself some support.
Quentin rose from the table and smiled as he walked towards her. He went through his evidence about Daisy’s reasons for working in the club, then asked, ‘Did you enjoy working behind the bar?’
‘Yes, sir. Harry the barman was good company and he showed me the ropes as I’d not done this kind of work before. And Mrs Cummings, the owner of the club, had offered me the job so I could earn extra money for Dad.’
‘Isn’t it true that you are a very talented seamstress and designer?’
‘Yes, it’s what I do best.’
‘Would you say you were an asset to your previous employer, Madam Evans in London Road?’
‘Definitely! After she fired me, she lost a lot of business I was told.’
‘How did you feel when you lost your position?’
Daisy looked straight at him and said, ‘I was distraught. I needed my wages to help pay for the nursing home fees for the care of my father.’
‘What made you become one of the hostesses?’
‘When she knew I’d been fired by Madam Evans, Mrs Cummings said I could make a great deal of money by doing so. As my money as a barmaid wasn’t enough, I had to give the offer some serious consideration – and I eventually said yes.’
‘Eventually?’ asked Quentin. ‘Did you have to think about the offer?’
Daisy’s cheeks flushed. ‘Of course I did! Do you think it was easy for me to become a whore? I hated every moment of it! Although the money I earned prolonged the life of my father, I felt dirty and cheap.’ She straightened her back and defiantly said, ‘But I would do it all over again for my dad!’
There was a murmur of approval among the people in the courtroom watching the proceedings.
‘But when your father eventually passed away, why didn’t you stop working as a hostess? Surely that was your opportunity to stop?’
‘Yes, I suppose anyone would think so, but I had no other job to go to and I wanted my own business. I had already lost my reputation and it was the only chance I had of saving enough money to do so. I thought it worth the disgrace.’
‘But you didn’t save enough money to open the fine establishment you now have in East Street, surely?’
‘No, I had only enough to rent one room with one other seamstress. But now I have a partner which allowed me to move to East Street.’
‘And is the business a success?’
Daisy smiled. ‘I’m happy to say that it is.’
‘So it was worth the sacrifice you made to achieve this?’
Daisy looked at the ground as she pondered over this question. ‘In one way it was, but it was a great price to have to pay. And now with all the publicity, I may well have reason to regret it even further.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘With my past laid bare for all to see, who knows if I’ll still have a business?’
‘Let’s move on. Tell me what happened on the night of the murder.’
Daisy described how Woods had caught her locking up and how he carried her into the workshop.
‘Why didn’t you call for help or scream to attract attention?’
‘I couldn’t! Ken Woods had his hand over my mouth, then he held me by the throat and started to throttle me, demanding I have sex with him. I was terrified that he was going to kill me.’
‘What happened next?’
Taking a deep breath, Daisy explained. ‘I was groping around my worktable at the back of me and I felt the scissors I used for cutting out – and I grabbed them.’
‘What were your thoughts as you picked them up, Daisy?’
‘All I could think about was getting away from him.’ She fought back the tears that brimmed. ‘I thought if I threatened him with the scissors, he’d back off – but he didn’t. I didn’t mean to kill him!’ she cried, her vo
ice full of anguish. ‘It was a terrible thing to do. I just wanted to get away from him, that’s all.’
‘Thank you, Daisy. No further questions.’ The barrister sat down.
The prosecuting council stood up and walked towards the witness box and Daisy Gilbert knew he would try to discredit her and was afraid.
Twenty-Five
The council for the prosecution faced Daisy. ‘A very touching story you do tell, Miss Gilbert. You would have the court believe that you were an innocent girl, caught up in this wicked world, all for the sake of your sick father.’ He waited for Daisy to answer but she just looked at him and remained silent, remembering the advice she’d been given, only to answer any direct question put to her.
He continued. ‘Wouldn’t it be true to say that instead you were a deliberately calculating young woman?’
She frowned, not knowing where this was leading. ‘I don’t understand the question.’
‘Then let me explain. When you eventually agreed to become a whore’ – he emphasized the word – ‘wasn’t it true that you made certain demands of Mrs Cummings, the owner?’
‘What demands?’ asked Daisy.
‘Oh come, Miss Gilbert, don’t try and play the innocent with me! You stipulated that you would choose your clients and that you alone would set the price for your services?’
‘Yes, that’s true.’
‘Hardly the actions of such an innocent, wouldn’t you agree?’
Daisy met his contemptuous gaze and said, ‘Because I was such an innocent doesn’t mean that I was a fool!’ There was a sound of people chuckling and the judge looked up and frowned at the public gallery.
‘I was very much aware of the interest shown by the men in the club in my virginity. Several had tried to tempt me to sell it to them when I was working behind the bar.’
‘You turned them down then?’
‘Of course I did. I was a barmaid then – not a whore!’ She snapped back the name at him.