by June Tate
The two men eventually walked to the nearest pub, ordered two pints of bitter, and sat down, easing themselves into comfortable chairs.
Ben stretched his legs. ‘God! I’m glad that day’s over. Pleased to be busy, of course, but I really need this.’ He lifted his pint glass. ‘Cheers!’
Arthur reciprocated. ‘Cheers.’
‘So, what have you been doing with yourself?’ Ben asked.
‘Not much to be honest. I’m looking forward to Sunday to have a rest.’
‘I expect it takes some getting used to, being on your own now. Although your brother was not the easiest person to live with, I’m sure you miss having someone in the house.’
Arthur grimaced. ‘Strange, isn’t it? In one way I’m happy to be able to please myself, but you’re right, at times the house feels empty.’
Laughing, Ben made a suggestion. ‘Perhaps you should find a wife and settle down?’
Arthur looked bemused. ‘Nah! I’m far too young to tie myself to one woman. As they say, why buy a book when you can go to a library! I like variety. For once I’m free to take a girl home if I want to.’
‘Well, you’re a good-looking bloke; you shouldn’t have any trouble there.’
Arthur looked pleased at the compliment. ‘What about you, Ben? Have you got a woman? I notice you are friendly with that girl Phoebe.’
‘Yes, we’re friends. She lost her mother recently, as you know. I just like to be on hand to help her if she needs it.’
‘That’s clever. Then when you’re ready, you make your move. Smart, very smart.’
Ben ignored the remark and changed the subject.
‘Have you been to see your brother? I’m sure he’s anxious for a visitor. It can’t be a load of laughs to be shut away in a cell.’
With a scowl Arthur said, ‘You’d think so, wouldn’t you? I caught a train to Winchester one Sunday a couple of weeks ago. Took some fags and soap and sweets, but all I got was a balling out. Why hadn’t I been before? Had the takings on the stall dropped now that he wasn’t running things? As if I wasn’t capable. To tell you the truth, I nearly got up and walked out! No thanks for coming, no thanks for the goods I took.’
‘How ungrateful! He’s treating you like a child.’ Ben could see Arthur was feeling resentful and began to feed this thread. ‘You are more than capable of working alone. I’ve seen you. He ought to show you some respect for carrying on after he put you in this position.’
‘Well he had better respect me. He forgets he owes me. He bloody needs me, and he’d better remember that. If he pushes me too far, he’ll rue the day.’
‘And why’s that?’
‘I hold his future in my hands, that’s all I’ll say.’
‘That sounds serious. What do you mean?’
But Arthur just shook his head. ‘It’s for me to know.’
It was obvious that Arthur wouldn’t say any more so Ben finished his drink. ‘I’ve got to go, I’m afraid. Thanks for the company. I’ll see you in the morning.’ Then added, ‘Don’t forget to eat or you’ll be in no fit state to work tomorrow and you know how busy we are on a Saturday.’
Arthur grinned at him. ‘You’re not my mother, you know!’
‘Thank the Lord for that! See you tomorrow.’
As he walked home, Ben was wracking his brains wondering how he could get Arthur to be more explicit about what hold he had over his brother. He was certain it was about the murder or he wouldn’t have mentioned Percy’s future. There had been no evidence in the lock-up so the police still had nothing to prove the men had anything to do with Clarke’s demise. But Arthur was beginning to trust him. It would take time, but if he could get him really drunk one night, then perhaps he’d let slip something really important. That’s what he decided to do.
Phoebe watched the daily interchange between Ben and Arthur and it unsettled her. One evening, when she and Ben went out for a walk, she questioned him about it.
‘Why have you got so pally with Arthur Stanley? I thought you couldn’t stand the brothers.’
‘I feel a bit sorry for the bloke, to be honest. Let’s face it, he isn’t the brightest of men. His brother ran his life and now he seems a bit lost. That’s all.’
‘I wouldn’t trust him with my cat if I had one!’
Ben laughed at her retort. ‘If I was a woman, I would probably feel the same. It’s just that I hate to see him trying to cope alone.’ He could see she wasn’t convinced but she didn’t say any more and he dropped the subject.
Chapter Fifteen
Young Tim was feeling chipper these days as he’d become friendly with Laura, a daughter of recent new stallholders, selling haberdashery goods. Cottons, silks for embroidery, cloth and offcuts. She was about the same age as him and only recently on a Saturday she’d joined her family. Consequently, they both helped out in the market, but in quiet moments, they played together and at lunchtime, they sat on one of the benches to eat their fish and chips.
Phoebe watched them and was pleased. Laura seemed a nice child and she was thrilled to see her young brother happily chatting away. He had school friends, of course, but it gave him something to look forward to at the weekend, other than helping her on the stall. She still worried that he didn’t have a father. A boy needs a man as a role model, she felt. Someone with whom a lad could kick a ball and talk about male interests. Ben was good with him and she was grateful for that, especially as Tim so enjoyed his company.
Marj too had watched them and said to Phoebe how nice it was to see the children together, but knowing how her friend worried about Tim not having a father to guide him added, ‘Now, if you and Ben were to get married, that boy’s life would be perfect!’
Phoebe looked at her in surprise. ‘Marj! Ben and I are just good friends. Will you stop it.’
But the woman wouldn’t be silenced. ‘You know, I’m surprised ’e ’asn’t tried to make your relationship more permanent. That young man is in love with you, Phoebe, but something is stopping ’im from telling you. I just wonder what, that’s all.’
Phoebe didn’t answer for, truth to tell, she’d wondered the same thing. Ben had made various comments, like he’d always be around to take care of her, but that was as far as he’d gone. She sensed he wanted to say more but when he’d not done so, she’d been confused. But then his sudden friendliness with Arthur Stanley also confused her. A customer arrived and stopped her train of thought.
Tim and Laura were happily tucking into their fish and chips. ‘I love having this wrapped in newspaper and eating with my fingers,’ she said. ‘It always seems to taste better.’
‘My mum always used to say that.’ A sudden expression of sadness didn’t escape Laura.
‘You must miss your parents.’
Tim was slow in answering, giving her remark some thought.
‘I miss Mum every day, but sometimes I can’t remember what Dad looked like or how his voice sounded and that’s awful … he was my father!’ His voice broke with emotion.
‘But didn’t he die in the war?’
Tim nodded. ‘He was away for a long time, but he didn’t come home when the war was over – there wasn’t even a funeral.’ He blinked away his tears. ‘But he’s with Mum now, so that’s nice. They’ll keep each other company. Phoebe says in heaven they’ll both be young again and without pain.’
Laura paused. ‘Do you think they’ll be playing harps like sometimes you see pictures of angels doing?’
Tim grinned. ‘I can’t imagine my mum playing one. She used to sing out of tune. We used to tease her about it!’
‘When I die, I want to float about from cloud to cloud,’ she said, waving her arms up in the air. ‘Meeting people as I float by. But I definitely won’t be selling cottons and materials!’
‘I wonder if they cook in heaven?’
Laura looked appalled. ‘They’ve got to cook or how will I get my fish and chips?’
Further conversation was interrupted when Laura’s mother called her an
d they both returned to their stalls.
There were no such innocent thoughts inside the head of Percy Stanley after the lunch break, as he walked round the exercise yard in Winchester Prison. He was still an angry man. His belligerent attitude had upset several of the other inmates and once or twice it nearly came to blows. He sat down on a low wall and lit a cigarette. Another prisoner walked over to him holding out an unlit Woodbine.
‘Gotta match, mate?’
‘I ain’t your mate. Piss off!’
The convict looked at him, anger flushing his cheeks. ‘You miserable bastard!’ Then he leant forward and with a mighty shove, sent Percy backwards off the wall and walked away leaving him to scramble to his feet. Furious at being caught out, he hurled abuse at the retreating figure, then brushed himself down, searching for the dog-end. Cigarettes were precious commodities in prison.
Several of the inmates had witnessed his downfall and had laughed derisively, which didn’t help his frame of mind. A bell rang and the men eventually filed back into the prison and to their designated areas. Some to return to their cells, others to clean the floors and other designated chores, some to scrub out the toilets, and Percy to the laundry room.
It was hot and damp inside the laundry. There the bedding and other items that were washable were put in various machines. Steam from the machines filled the air and as Percy walked past one of these, two of the inmates bumped into him deliberately, sending him tumbling against the side of the vat. He put out a hand to save himself and screamed as the heat scorched his flesh.
A warden rushed over and shoved his hand in a nearby bucket of cold water. ‘You should be more careful, Stanley,’ he snapped.
‘It wasn’t my fault, I was pushed!’ he yelled.
‘Now there’s a surprise! That’ll teach you to stop being so bloody-minded. It doesn’t work in prison. Come along, off to the hospital and get this seen to.’
As he was escorted out of the laundry room, Percy saw several men grinning at him and he knew who the culprits were.
If he expected any sympathy from the prison doctor, he was disappointed. The medic had been a prison doctor for too long. Most of his patients had been injured through payback from other prisoners with a grudge to settle. Only a small minority were genuine patients. As Percy started to complain the doctor silenced him.
‘I’m not interested in your sob story, Stanley, just tell me what happened.’ He examined the burn. ‘This will take some time to heal. I’ll keep you in for a while to make sure there are no complications and we’ll see how it goes.’
‘Is that it?’ Percy asked angrily.
‘Yes, it is, and if you decide to become difficult, I’ll send you back to your cell and you can sit it out on your own. My ward – my rules!’ He instructed a nurse about which dressing to apply and walked away.
Percy winced and moaned with the pain as the nurse applied the sterile dressings. She was as gentle as she could be but knew that this was going to take some time to heal.
All the time his hand was being attended, Percy, in between the cries of pain, was burning with hatred for those who’d caused this and deep down swore his revenge. He was led to a bed, given a pair of pyjamas and left to get settled. He ignored the man next to him who smiled in greeting, and lay down, propping up the pillows with his one good hand. His injured hand felt as if it was on fire and the pain made him tired. Eventually he dropped off to sleep.
The next few days in the hospital, Percy, despite the pain he suffered, was enjoying the new regime. It was relatively peaceful in the ward. The meals came in on a trolley. At night it was quiet as opposed to the nightly voices ranting from those shut up in cells. Warders yelling at the convicts to keep quiet. Here he didn’t have to watch his back from those he’d upset. It was like being on holiday, apart from the daily change of dressing to his hand. Although he didn’t admit to it, when he saw the damage to his flesh, he was worried as to how it would ever heal. He wasn’t able to flex his fingers without a great deal of pain and he was afraid he’d lose the use of them. For the moment, the doctor was unable to give him any reassurance.
‘We will just have to wait and see. My main concern is that it might become infected and then as the skin heals it shrinks and tightens, making it difficult to move your fingers … you will have to learn to be patient!’
Fortunately, it was Percy’s left hand, so he was able to write to his brother, tell him what had happened and ask him to visit. Then he added a list of things he required.
Arthur confided all this to Ben after he’d received the letter.
‘He said he was pushed by a couple of blokes and his hand is badly burnt.’ He looked worried. ‘He’s in the prison hospital, so I guess it must be bad. I’m going tomorrow. It means closing the stall for the day, but I don’t have a choice.’
‘Oh, I’m sorry to hear that, but of course you have to go. He must be in a lot of pain and he’ll be glad of your company.’
‘That’ll be a first!’ Arthur grumbled. ‘But maybe this time he’ll be in a better frame of mind.’
‘Try not to worry.’
‘Thanks, mate.’ Arthur smiled at Ben. ‘That’s kind of you.’
Ben walked back to his stall. ‘Mate!’ That pleased him. It showed that Arthur was beginning to trust him. Perhaps he could get him to do so even more – enough to confide in him. That would take time, but the end result would be worth it.
Chapter Sixteen
Arthur arrived at the prison and was eventually escorted to the hospital after the usual formalities of being searched and the goods he’d taken in removed for inspection. The warder unlocked the door to the ward and let him through. There were only three patients, so he saw Percy immediately and walked over to his bed, where his brother was sitting, legs over the side, staring at the door with anticipation of a visitor.
‘All right, Percy?’
‘No, I’m not bloody all right!’ He held up his bandaged hand. ‘How could I be all right, you idiot!’
Arthur sighed. Nothing had changed. ‘How’s the hand?’
‘Bloody painful! They had to give me a morphine injection last night.’ For a moment he looked worried. ‘I’m beginning to wonder how long before it heals and if I’ll have the whole use of my fingers after.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘It’s difficult to flex them at the moment, and when the flesh does heal, I’m wondering if they’ll be the same as normal. Thank God it’s my left hand.’
‘What does the doctor say?’
‘I’ll have to wait and see.’
Looking around, Arthur smiled. ‘Well, at least this is better than being cooped up in a cell. It’s quiet and peaceful. Spacious, clean.’
Percy reluctantly agreed. ‘At night it’s a blessing. No yelling and shouting. I haven’t slept so well since I was sent here. Warders don’t harass you. There’s one on guard outside, but that’s all.’ He paused for a moment. ‘It makes you wonder how difficult it would be to break out of here.’
Arthur looked horrified. ‘Have you lost your bloody mind? Your case hasn’t come up in court yet. Imagine trying to break out and getting caught? You’d be here for bloody years!’
‘I’m going down for a time, anyway. The police have an open and shut case. If I could get out, I could disappear altogether, at least I’d be free.’
‘Yeah! Looking over your shoulder for the rest of your life!’
Percy changed the subject. ‘How’s business? I hope you’re running the stall properly?’
‘Don’t you talk to me like a child! I’m doing very well on my own. I don’t need you breathing down my neck every minute telling me what to do.’ Arthur’s frustration burst forth. ‘You think you know everything and I’m useless, well look at you! At least one of us knows how to stay out of trouble.’
Percy was livid. ‘Who do you think you’re talking to? Without me behind you, you’d be nothing!’
Arthur smirked at him. ‘The very fact that you thought
you were so special could put you at the end of a rope. You should remember that … brother! And if you really want to know, I’m living the life of Riley on my own, pleasing myself. Going out with women! I don’t need you. So get off my back!’
He got to his feet and walked to the door and asked to be let out.
To have his brother answer him back was so unusual, that for a moment Percy was speechless, but he managed to yell abuse at Arthur as he was let out of the door.
The nurse came over. ‘Stop that yelling, Stanley!’ she snapped. ‘You are disturbing the other patients.’
‘Who do you think you’re talking to, Nurse? No one tells me what to do!’
She ignored him, but when it came time to change his bandage, she was less gentle and he flinched with the pain. When she’d finished she just looked at him. She didn’t have to say a word. He understood her message.
The following morning, Ben set up his stall, then walked over to Arthur. ‘How was your brother?’
‘Bloody-minded as usual. Apparently, his hand is badly burnt, but apart from that the hospital isn’t a bad place to be. It’s quiet and peaceful, with only one guard at the door. You wouldn’t believe what Percy said to me.’
Suddenly curious, Ben said, ‘I can’t imagine.’
‘He was only wondering how easy it might be to escape. Stupid bastard! I told him he was out of his bloody mind.’ He grinned broadly. ‘Then I gave him a piece of my mind.’
‘You did?’ This came as a complete surprise after seeing Percy and Arthur together, with Arthur being very much the underdog.
‘Well, I’m sick of him belittling me, wondering if I’m capable of running the stall alone. In fact, I told him what a great time I was having being alone. I even told him about the women!’
Ben started to laugh. ‘My goodness, I bet he didn’t like that.’
