Chaff upon the Wind (31 page)

Kitty moved forward and began to make the bed. ‘Yours might, miss, but I doubt very much whether the likes of me will ever get the vote.’

Miriam swung round. ‘Whyever not? That’s defeatist talk, Kitty. Why shouldn’t you have the vote? You’ve as much right to vote for the way your country – and your
life – is governed as anyone else.’

Kitty bent and smoothed the sheet with the palm of her hand. ‘How can I vote for summat I don’t know owt about, miss?’

A puzzled frown wrinkled Miriam’s forehead. ‘What do you mean, you don’t know anything about it? Don’t you read the papers? Don’t you talk about
politics?’

Kitty shrugged. ‘I’ve heard your father talking at the table sometimes and me own dad, well, him and his mates talk about things like that in the pub, I reckon. But never at home.
Never . . .’ she glanced over her shoulder at Miriam and added pointedly, ‘in front of women.’

Miriam sat down at the dressing table and asked, curiously now, ‘You mean, your mother and father never talk about such things?’

‘No, miss.’ Kitty plumped the pillows and pulled the counterpane up to cover them.

‘How strange,’ the other girl murmured.

And the thought ran through Kitty’s mind, though she did not voice it aloud, We’re too busy trying to survive in our little world to be thinking about such lofty matters as how the
country should be run.

‘How very strange,’ Miriam said again and turned away to admire her reflection in the mirror.

‘Where is she? Where’s Miriam?’ Edward, standing at the head of the stairs, his face creased with anxiety, looked down at Kitty who was carrying clean laundry
up from the kitchen below.

She smiled up at him. ‘She’s gone out with Mr Guy. She’s quite safe.’

‘Oh no, she isn’t. Guy came back half an hour ago.
Without her
.’

Now Kitty stared at him. ‘But – how – how come? I mean, where is she?’

Edward ran his hand distractedly through his hair and pulled in a deep, unsteady breath. Kitty was sure she heard a hint of the tell-tale rasp. Without stopping to think, concerned only for him,
she put her hand on his arm. ‘Go and sit down, Teddy. I’ll see Mr Guy and then I’ll go and look for her.’

Edward covered her hand with his own. ‘I’m all right, honestly, Kitty. I can’t let you go out alone in London.’ He smiled at her, though the worry over his wayward sister
never left his eyes. ‘You’d get lost.’

Kitty gave a snort. ‘I’ve a tongue in me head. I can ask, can’t I? Go on, do as I say,’ and then, fearing she had been too forceful, she added, ‘please?’

‘Just for a while then, but if – if you don’t find her quickly, then – then I must . . .’

‘I’ll find her. I promise.’

She turned away, feeling guilty at making a promise that she was not sure she would be able to keep. ‘I’m going home tomorrow,’ she vowed as she picked up her skirts and
hurried downstairs again to find Guy Harding. ‘I’ve been away from my little man long enough.’

At the thought of the boy who had wound his way into her heart and taken possession of it, Kitty felt a sob build in her throat. How she missed Johnnie, how she longed to hold him in her
arms.

She knocked on the door of Guy’s study and his voice bade her enter. He was sitting behind the wide expanse of his polished desk. Managing to make her voice sound casual, she asked,
‘I was just wondering where you left Miss Miriam, sir. She’s not back yet and me and T— Master Edward were a little anxious. I mean, she doesn’t know the city all that well,
and . . .’ She was beginning to babble.

Guy, knowing nothing of the real cause for their concern, said cheerfully, ‘Oh I shouldn’t worry, Kitty. She said she was meeting a friend for afternoon tea in one of the big
stores.’ His smile widened indulgently. ‘I’m sure there’s no need to worry, they’re probably spending a small fortune in Oxford Street and have completely lost track
of the time.’

Friend? Miriam had no friends in London that she knew of – except the women in the suffragette movement. She swallowed her fear and smiled brightly. ‘Right you are, then, sir. Thank
you.’ She bobbed a slight curtsy and backed out of the room. Closing the door quietly, she ran then, on light feet, up the stairs to her room to fetch her hat and coat. She was determined to
sneak out of the house by the back stairs before Edward realized she had gone. What a nice man Mr Guy is, Kitty thought, Miss Miriam really doesn’t deserve someone like him.

Minutes later she was walking quickly down the road. At the corner she paused and then asked a road sweeper for directions, but when she arrived in Oxford Street, to her dismay it stretched as
far as she could see into the distance. She couldn’t hope to find Miriam even if she was somewhere here, which Kitty rather doubted. It was more likely that the ‘afternoon tea’
was just a story for Guy’s benefit and that Miriam had gone to the old warehouse again.

‘I’ve no hope of finding that either,’ Kitty muttered aloud. She could not even remember the name of the street. She bit her lip, aware now of just how foolish she had been to
venture out alone into the big city. But she had wanted to prevent Edward becoming involved.

For more than an hour she wandered the streets, realizing eventually that she was completely lost.

She heard the noise even before she turned the last corner into a square and gave a gasp of alarm when she saw what was happening. Policemen with flailing truncheons were advancing in a line
towards a band of women standing with placards and banners and chanting, ‘Votes for Women, Votes for Women.’ Then three mounted policemen appeared and galloped straight at the group of
women who scattered in fear. It was at that moment that Kitty saw Miriam and before she could stop herself a cry had escaped her lips. ‘Miss Miriam, no, oh no.’

Miriam was standing directly in the path of one of the oncoming horses, boldly facing the creature. She had no fear of horses, Kitty knew, but this was not the country, not her own home-bred
horse who would obey her every command. But she stood with the stillness of a statue and, at the last moment, the animal veered to the left. Its rider brought it to a halt with such a vicious tug
on its bit that the animal reared. Close by, women screamed, terrifying the horse even more. The officer lost his stirrup, slipped sideways from the saddle and fell to the ground. Kitty watched in
horror then as Miriam moved suddenly to grasp hold of the horse’s bridle, but she was not in time to save the policeman from being trampled by the animal’s restless, frightened hooves.
She held on to the bridle and patted the horse’s head, though the crowd of women, bent on continuing their demonstration or saving themselves, did nothing to help the young man on the
ground.

Kitty thrust herself through the mass, elbowing, shoving and pushing until she reached Miriam.

‘Hold him still, miss, while I get to the copper.’

The horse stood relatively quietly now, though his eyes were still bulging and he breathed and snorted noisily. Kitty, confident of her young mistress’s way with horses, ducked beneath the
animal’s neck and bent over the young man lying motionless on the ground.

‘Give us a bit of room,’ she shouted angrily. ‘Can’t you see he’s hurt?’ But the women, still chanting and screaming, took no notice. Kitty knelt on the
pavement and cradled the young man’s head in her lap, bending her body over him to protect him from the crowd which seemed to her to have lost all sense of reason.

Then one of the other mounted officers came towards them and the women scattered in alarm, leaving a clear pathway for the rider. He flung himself from his horse.

‘You’re under arrest, the pair of you. I saw it all. You grabbed at his horse and made it rear.’

‘I did no such thing. I was trying to calm it,’ Miriam retorted hotly, while Kitty felt fear twist her stomach. Arrested? Her? Why, she had done nothing.

Other officers were arriving now and Kitty looked up to see one or two women being led away, obviously under arrest, yet the majority seemed to have disappeared, fleeing down the side streets,
dispersing swiftly to stay free to fight another day.

Someone brought a stretcher and the young policeman was lifted on to it. Kitty then found herself grasped firmly by the arms and hauled to her feet. But instead of being thanked, both she and
Miriam felt the cold ring of steel around their wrists as handcuffs were clamped on them and they were marched towards the black, square-shaped contraption drawn by two impatient horses parked at
the edge of the square.

They appeared in court the following morning, standing side by side in the dock like common criminals. Kitty, her face flaming red, saw Edward and Guy sitting together in the
gallery. Edward’s face was contorted with anxiety, Guy’s grim with anger.

Kitty glanced towards Miriam but she was staring steadfastly straight ahead, refusing to look towards her fiancé or her brother.

The constable who had arrested them gave his evidence and Kitty’s heart sank. It looked very bleak for them and every limb in her body trembled as she thought of having to spend even one
more night in that cold cell with its dark stone walls and dank smell.

What if they were sent to prison? What would happen to little Johnnie and to Jack? Fear rose in her throat, threatening to choke her. What if . . .?

Another constable was being called forward by the defence lawyer Guy had hurriedly summoned from the firm of solicitors in the city who acted for Sir Ralph. The policeman mounted the steps into
the witness box and was sworn in. A request was made to the judge.

‘My Lord, I know this is somewhat unusual but, as you may know, the officer who would be able to give the clearest evidence of the particular incident involving these two women is lying
injured in hospital. With your indulgence, my Lord . . .’ the barrister gave a little bow towards the bench, ‘the officer now called has taken a sworn statement from his injured
colleague and, with your permission, my Lord, will now read it to the court.’

The judge seemed to deliberate, then he leaned forward and there was a few moments’ whispered conversation between him and the Clerk of the Court before he straightened up and nodded.
‘Very well, then.’

Kitty’s knees felt weak. She clung on to the edge of the dock, afraid that at any moment she would collapse with fear. Beside her, Miriam stood tall and erect.

The officer in the witness box opened his notebook and cleared his throat. He seemed like an actor on stage making the most of his big moment. After giving his colleague’s name and number
he began to relate what had happened.

A whisper like a light breeze ran around the room as the constable snapped his notebook shut and stood to attention, awaiting either further questioning or dismissal. He received the latter and
stepped down.

The judge consulted further with the clerk and then, frowning, looked solemnly towards the dock.

‘It seems that, although you were involved in the fracas, you did not intend injury to the constable and, indeed, came to his aid. With this in mind I bind you both over to keep the peace
for a period of six months.’ He cleared his throat and Kitty saw him glance meaningly towards the gallery. ‘I suggest you should return home and leave such distasteful matters to those
women who have nothing better to do.’

Kitty felt weak with relief but then, with a shaft of horror, she felt Miriam tense and saw a look of anger cross her face. Miriam opened her mouth and Kitty knew at once she was about to make
some sharp retort to the judge.

Immediately, Kitty raised her voice and said clearly, ‘Thank you, my Lord.’ At the same moment she gripped Miriam’s arm fiercely and muttered beneath her breath,
‘Don’t you dare say a word, miss. Get yarsen into trouble if you must, but not me.’ And with a strength born of anger, she pushed Miriam from the dock and down the stairs away
from the glowering face of the judge who could, she knew, at any moment change his mind and commit them both to that awful prison.

‘Kitty, I don’t know how to thank you.’ Guy Harding was smiling down at her. ‘I can see now that Edward was right. You are the only one who can handle
her.’ He shook his head and sighed. It was obvious he loved Miriam devotedly, yet he was overwhelmed by her rebelliousness.

‘Take her home, Mr Guy, out of harm’s way,’ Kitty said. ‘Even if she agitates a bit in the country, she won’t get herself into such bother there as she does here in
the city.’

He gave a short laugh. ‘I wouldn’t bank on it, Kitty.’

Kitty sniffed. ‘It’d be better if she were to have another—’ She bit her tongue and felt the colour rise in her cheeks. For one dreadful, unguarded moment, she had been
about to say, ‘Have another child’. Swiftly, hoping he had not noticed her hesitation, she hurried on. ‘Another interest. Something a bit less, well, dangerous.’