by June Tate
Tim grinned at him. ‘I didn’t mean that, silly!’
Ben ruffled his hair. ‘I know, Tim, I was only teasing. When Phoebe’s better, we’ll go out to dinner and celebrate. But it will only be a sandwich and a glass of lemonade because I have to buy Phoebe a ring first.’
The look of disappointment on Tim’s face made them all laugh.
‘He’s teasing you again,’ Phoebe said, then she looked at Ben. ‘Well, I hope you are?’
‘Well, maybe two sandwiches each!’
Watching everyone tucking into the food she’d made, Marj was thrilled to see how happy they all were. Her dream for Phoebe and Ben had come to fruition and Tim would have the father figure he craved. Ben was a good role model for the boy, and he’d make sure Tim was well looked after … and Phoebe. My God, it was about time! These past years had been hard on the girl, but she’d kept the family going after her father went to war and didn’t return and even after the loss of her dear mother. Now someone would look after her.
At the end of the meal, Marj took Tim into the kitchen to help her wash the dishes, leaving Ben and Phoebe alone. They cuddled up together on the sofa.
‘When Tim has his school holidays in August, I’d like to take you both to visit my parents,’ he told Phoebe.
She looked concerned. ‘Will they be pleased about us marrying?’
‘Why wouldn’t they be?’
‘Well, having a bride is one thing, Ben, but taking on another man’s child is another.’
‘I don’t see it like that, darling. As far as I’m concerned, you come as a package – if I can use that expression. I couldn’t consider one without the other, it has never occurred to me to do so.’
‘Tim thinks the world of you, you know that, don’t you?’
‘I do and I’m thrilled that he does. He’s a fine boy and will grow into a fine man, we’ll see to that, together.’
They sat over a final cup of tea, then Tim and Phoebe went to their beds and Ben insisted on walking Marj home.
As they left the house, she tucked her arm through Ben’s. ‘I can’t tell you ’ow thrilled I am that you and Phoebe are getting married.’
‘Thanks, Marj. I’m a lucky fellow. Phoebe’s a lovely girl.’
‘And you’re not ’alf bad either, love!’
He burst out laughing. ‘Marj, you’re incorrigible!’
‘I’m not at all sure what that means, Ben, but if it isn’t rude, I’ll take it! But what I want to know is why did you take so long to propose? It were obvious to me you was in love with the girl ages ago.’
‘I couldn’t while I was undercover. I had to wait until my job was done and I could be truthful as to who I really was. When the Stanleys went to prison, I could tell her.’
‘Those two! And that bastard Percy. My God, to think that poor girl saw ’im top that bloke and not be able to tell anyone. No wonder she was so jumpy in the market.’
‘True, but at least the public have no knowledge of that, or Phoebe would be hounded by the press and she wouldn’t have a life to call her own.’
‘My lips is sealed, love, don’t you worry about that! Ah ’ere we are, I’m ’ome. Thanks for the escort. Blimey! I’ve ’ad a police escort ’ome, I’ve just realised! Best not tell the neighbours, they’d get the wrong idea! Night, Ben!’
‘Goodnight, Marj, sleep well.’
While everything was settling down in the lives of those in Southampton, trouble was already brewing in Winchester Prison. Arthur had no idea what was in store for him.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Arthur had more or less settled to prison life in the few days he’d been there. He kept close to his cellmate on the way to the dining room each mealtime. He chatted to Henry Evans, but not to anyone else. He was a little in awe of him after discovering his background. It quietly amused the old lag, who was aware of this, but he didn’t say anything about it. To his mind, Arthur was an innocent when it came to crime and was completely out of place in a prison yard with full-time criminals. In a way, he felt sorry for the young man.
When he was in the quadrangle, Arthur was usually on his own as his cellmate had his own small circle. He would wander off and find a quiet place to sit and have a cigarette, making sure he didn’t get involved with anyone, not staring too long at anybody who might take offence. After a few days, he began to relax and feel less nervous.
‘Got a light, mate?’ The sudden voice made him jump. Standing in front of him was an older man, holding out an unlit cigarette. ‘I’ve left me matches in me cell,’ the prisoner said with a smile.
Arthur handed over his matches.
The man took them, lit his cigarette, returned the matches and, to Arthur’s surprise, sat beside him. ‘Thanks. I really enjoy a smoke outside, rather than in me cell. Seems more normal somehow. I try and forget this is a prison yard. What’s your name?’
Looking at him somewhat uncertainly, he answered. ‘Arthur.’
The man held out his hand. ‘I’m Bill.’
Arthur had no choice but to shake his hand. Had he not done so he might have upset him, and he didn’t want any trouble.
They sat quietly together, just watching the passing scene in front of them as men walked around, some in gatherings chatting, and some even laughing together.
Arthur stole a quick glance at his companion, but Bill didn’t look back at him, just continued to look around. When he’d finished his cigarette, he got to his feet.
‘Thanks, Arthur. Might see you tomorrow?’
Arthur nodded and Bill walked away. As he watched him, he thought, well he seems harmless enough. He was quiet, not belligerent in any way. It would be nice to have a friend to chat to.
In the queue at lunchtime, Arthur heard a familiar voice behind him and turned. Bill was there, talking to another prisoner. ‘Hello, Arthur, I thought it was you. You all right?’
‘Yes, fine, thanks.’ He collected his food and found a place at a table that was beginning to fill up. Bill came and sat beside him. They chatted, complained about the food and as they rose to return their trays and dishes, Bill asked, ‘Going outside for a smoke?’
‘Yes, I look forward to getting some fresh air, don’t you?’
‘Best part of the day for me. It don’t matter to me if it rains, even. I finds a sheltered spot and hunker down.’ They joined the cue for the quadrangle together.
Once settled, Arthur was looking at a building in the far distance, wondering what it was. It didn’t look like any of the other cell blocks. He asked his new friend.
‘What’s that building over there? I’ve been wondering for days. It looks different from the others.’
‘That’s the execution block. That’s where they hangs you if you’re sentenced to death.’
Arthur went cold and shivered. Would his brother end up at the end of a rope? If he did, it was his evidence that put him there! The enormity of the fact overcame him. He rushed to the corner of the building and was violently sick.
After, he stood, his hands to his head, still feeling nauseous and slightly feverish. Taking a deep breath, he walked back to Bill and sat on the ground.
‘You all right? Blimey, I’ve seen reactions from many people when they know what that place is, but never one like yours. Sorry if I upset you, but you did ask.’
‘It’s all right, really. It just came as such a surprise.’
Bill put a comforting arm round his shoulder. ‘Don’t take on so. It’s obvious to me this is your first time in prison. It takes some getting used to. Here, have a fag.’
Knowing how difficult it was to come by such things, Arthur looked at him in surprise. ‘Are you sure you can spare it?’
Bill grinned broadly. ‘Don’t you worry none. When you know your way around a prison, it ain’t that bad, really. If you’ve got money you can buy most things. You need anything, you come to me. After all, we’re mates, aren’t we?’
Arthur nodded. ‘Yes, of course we are.’
The bell rang
and the prisoners lined up, tightly packed together.
‘Blimey! Not much room is there?’ Arthur grumbled.
‘No, but it won’t be long, we’re moving now.’ Once inside they departed for their separate accommodation.
Two days later the prisoners were let out in groups and taken to the bath house. A building with cubicles for each bath, but without doors so the warders could see the men at all times.
Arthur had climbed out of his bath and was getting dressed when Bill popped his head round the door. ‘Hello, mate! Bet you feel better now?’
Doing up his trousers, Arthur agreed. ‘It’s nice to feel refreshed and clean.’
The next day in the quadrangle, Bill came and sat beside Arthur as was his habit now. Arthur was grateful for the company as he didn’t have to worry about upsetting anyone. The other prisoners ignored them. It helped to bring a feeling of normality, being in the fresh air out of the prison block or locked away in a cell.
In a strange way, Arthur was now less nervous of his surroundings. He knew just to eat the food in front of him, not to try and make conversation with anyone other than his cellmate, Henry, and now his new friend. It made for easier living. Not that he didn’t long for his old life. The market, his own home. Ivy. But he felt quite proud that he was able to take each day as it came. So far it was liveable. If his sentence was a short one, as he’d been led to believe, he now felt able to cope.
But a prison was never peaceful for long. There was always an undercurrent and it didn’t take long for a scene to turn into a riot. The following day outside during the exercise break, two men started fighting. Others gathered round, taking sides, urging the men on.
Arthur was horrified as he watched and quickly found a quiet corner to hide in. Very soon warders came rushing out to try and stop the fight, which had now grown as others took the opportunity to pay back a slight that had once upset them and which they’d not had an opportunity to settle.
Eventually there was a sound of gunfire as warders fired into the air, thus stopping the affray. Prisoners were lined up and sent back to their cells, watched by the warders, some of whom were now armed.
Arthur was shaking and was greatly relieved when at last he walked back inside his cell, the door slamming and being locked when his cellmate had joined him. But the noise coming from those now incarcerated was almost as frightening to Arthur, who had never experienced such behaviour.
‘It’s part of prison life,’ his cellmate remarked. ‘You’ll get used to it!’
But Arthur knew he wouldn’t. Just as he was settling and now this. It didn’t bode well for the time he eventually would have to serve.
Things quietened down for a while and Arthur, although nervous when he was in the yard, began to relax again. He was sitting alone looking around at the usual normal scene in front of him, remembering the day when it all changed – and how quickly things had developed. One or two prisoners had been injured with the use of home-made weapons. Cells had been searched and privileges taken away. But now all was peaceful again.
It was at slopping out time some days later that things changed. Len, Arthur’s cellmate, wasn’t well and had stayed in bed, so Arthur was on his own at the back of the queue. Emptying the contents of the bucket, he felt the need to pee, so he undid his trousers to use the urinal. As he stood enjoying using a proper toilet, he heard a movement behind him and before he realised a prisoner was up close to him, trying to grope him.
‘Oh, Arthur, I just knew you were a big lad.’
Arthur let out a scream and a warder appeared. ‘What the bloody hell’s going on?’ Then he saw. ‘You dirty bastard, back to your cell now!’
‘You,’ said the warder to Arthur, ‘get back to your cell and be careful in future when you want the toilet!’
Hurrying back to his cell, Arthur was shaking when he realised how close he’d come to being assaulted sexually. He then remembered the warnings of the detective when first he’d been interviewed about him being in prison and being approached.
He’d never been more horrified. A fist fight was bad enough, but being accosted sexually was terrifying and beyond his comprehension. He knew about homosexuals. Living in a seaport town they were not unknown, but he’d never mixed with any. He and Percy didn’t socialise much. It was only when Percy was inside and he was alone he was free to do so and, for him, his delight was women.
As he was released for exercise the next day, Arthur was feeling tense and nervous, wondering if anyone would bother him, but nobody came near him. With a sigh of relief, Arthur sat down. Henry Evans joined him.
‘If you’re worried about that bloke from yesterday, he’s not coming out to play!’
Arthur looked at Henry and saw a look of amusement on his face. ‘What’s so funny?’
‘Watching you being led to the slaughter, like a lamb.’
‘You knew and you stood back and watched?’ Arthur was livid.
Henry just shrugged. ‘You take any amusement you can get in here, my son. I knew you weren’t in any real danger. Too many warders about. Now if it had been him,’ he pointed to a big man crossing the yard, ‘that would have been a different matter.’
Looking at the man, Arthur shuddered. If it had been him, he’d have been terrified. He’d be certain never to be near him, ever.
‘So what’s happened to that bloke, then?’ he asked Henry.
‘He’ll lose his privileges for a few days, that’s all. After all, he didn’t do you much harm. Put it down to experience.’
‘It’s all very well for you!’ Arthur retorted. ‘No one bothers you, they’re too bloody scared.’ He realised what he’d said and became fearful.
Henry just smiled. ‘It’s all right, son. You’ve no need to worry. I’m all for a quiet life without any trouble. I sorted that in the first few months when I was sent here.’
‘I’m not cut out for prison! I’m not sure I can do my time when I’m sentenced.’ Arthur was on the verge of tears. ‘I’m not tough like you and my brother. Now, he wouldn’t put up with anything.’
‘Does he visit you?’
Arthur gave a derisory laugh. ‘He’d have a job, he’s in Wormwood Scrubs waiting for his trial. He’s up for murder.’
‘So what are you in for?’
‘I’m a witness at his trial.’
Henry frowned and was silent for a moment. ‘I don’t understand.’
‘He came to me after he’d topped the bloke and I helped him move the body. I told the police what had happened.’
‘You shopped your own brother?’
‘Don’t look at me like that. He killed this man all because he told my brother he was a nobody. He involved me when I’d nothing to do with the murder. He wasn’t even sorry he’d done it. I wasn’t going to spend my life behind bars for him!’
‘You’d better hope that no one here finds out what you did. Shopping someone is treated with contempt among prisoners. My advice is don’t tell anyone else.’
‘I’ve told you!’
‘Yes, and be thankful I’ll keep that information to myself. You’re no criminal and I hate to see anyone inside for something they didn’t do, but you keep your mouth shut if you don’t want any trouble.’ He walked away.
But now Arthur was really worried. It was still a while before the trial and then after he’d be inside again. How was he going to survive? After the trial it would be in the papers. The information could eventually seep into the prison. What then? It didn’t bear thinking about. He sat brooding and cursing his brother.
Chapter Twenty-Five
It was August and the school holidays. Ben had arranged to take Phoebe and Tim up to Gloucester to meet his parents. Tim was thrilled and excited, but Phoebe was filled with trepidation. It was asking a lot of anyone to take on a young boy who wasn’t his. Ben wasn’t at all bothered, she knew that, but she tried to put herself in Ben’s mother’s shoes and knew if it were her, she’d be concerned.
Marj tried to calm her. ‘You
ain’t marrying ’is family love, you’re marrying Ben and you’ve both got it sorted. Just go up there, be yourself, enjoy the change. Putting the stall away will be a real treat. It’ll do you good. Once Ben’s parents see ’ow ’e and Tim are together, they’ll understand. If they don’t, it don’t matter. Ben loves you both, it won’t make a difference to ’im, mark my words.’
Tim could hardly wait for Saturday to share his news with Laura, his friend. ‘We’re going on a train tomorrow to Gloucester to meet Ben’s parents. I’ve never been on a train and Ben says it’s a long journey.’ He beamed at her. ‘They’ll be my grandparents! How exciting is that?’
Laura pulled a face. ‘My grandfather is a misery. Whenever we go to see him and Gran, which isn’t often, he grumbles the whole time about something or other.’
‘What about your gran?’
‘Oh no, she’s lovely. She makes the most wonderful cakes and always gives us some to bring home. Now, that really upsets my grandfather, but Gran just smiles and ignores him.’
Tim’s world suddenly wasn’t so bright. What if Ben’s parents didn’t like him? Or worse, what if they didn’t like his sister?
As they were packing up the stall, Ben came over to check final arrangements for the next day and noticed that Tim’s enthusiasm for the trip had waned.
‘What’s wrong, young man? You’ve suddenly gone very quiet.’
‘Perhaps your parents won’t like you getting married to Phoebe and perhaps they won’t like me.’
Putting his arm round the boy’s shoulder, Ben tried to cheer him. ‘I’m sure that won’t be the case, Tim, but even if it was, it wouldn’t make any difference. I love you both and we’re going to be a family.’
The boy clung to him, but was so overcome with relief, he couldn’t speak.
