For Better For Worse - Pam Weaver

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a deep breath. She was no good at lying. Her parents always knew when she wasn’t telling the truth. She thought back to 1940 and the last time she’d been with Ellen Slattery shortly before she was killed. They were both ten and supposed to be going to GFS after school. The Girls’ Friendly Society was fun, but Ellen had persuaded her to play Kiss Chase with the boys instead. They’d had a great time and when it was time to go home, they’d synchronised their stories. Ellen got away with it, but somehow Father had known that Annie was lying. If she closed her eyes she could still feel the unbearable sting of his wide hand as it met the tops of her bare legs. She’d been sent to bed with no tea and spent the next few days pulling her dress down to hide the bruise marks from his fingers, which were still clearly visible. This time she had to get her story right if the people Henry worked for were to believe her.

      *

      Sarah was going through the motions. She’d got the children up and Jenny to school, but she kept away from her sister. She was still annoyed with Vera that she had refused to have Jenny and Lu-Lu for a bit and she certainly didn’t want to have to talk about what had happened in Horsham. She did her shift in the pub, which was particularly unpleasant that day because someone had been sick in the gents, and then a little shopping. She avoided Mrs Angel’s shop because she couldn’t face putting what happened yesterday into words there either. She tried not to, but she couldn’t help wondering what Henry was doing now. She hoped his cell was freezing cold and that they’d taken away all his clothes. She hoped his bed was made of rusty nails and that he had rats for company. Of course, in this day and age that was impossible, she told herself, but she wished for it all the same. The puzzling thing was, why had the police arrested him? If only she had stayed outside the back door a bit longer, then she might have heard.

      Where did she go from here? She should jolly well make Henry pay for his children’s upkeep, but how did she go about it? Besides, if she flagged herself up to the welfare people, they might decide to take the kids away from her and if that happened, she couldn’t go on. Without Jenny and Lu-Lu, she might as well be dead. She had no money for solicitors and the like, so she was in a cleft stick.

      Before picking Jenny up from school, Sarah went to the phone box to look in the dog-eared Directory Enquiries book for the number of the Horsham police station. Then she lifted the receiver and asked the operator to connect her. Once she had pushed the money in the slot and the operator told her she was connected, she pressed button B and heard a gruff voice saying, ‘Horsham Police. Desk Sergeant.’

      ‘I’m enquiring about Mr Henry Royal,’ she said in her poshest voice.

      ‘He’s been sent for trial at Lewes Assizes.’

      Sarah swallowed hard. ‘On what charge?’

      ‘Who are you?’ said the sergeant.

      ‘I’m his wife.’

      ‘Then you already know,’ said the sergeant. He sounded irritable. ‘Seeing as how you made the complaint.’

      Sarah hesitated. What was he talking about? ‘But I’ve made no complaint,’ she said.

      There was a pause at the other end. ‘Say your name again?’

      ‘Mrs Sarah Royal,’ she said deliberately.

      The sergeant must have put his hand over the mouthpiece because although his response was muffled, Sarah heard him gasp, ‘Bloody ’ell. Call the Inspector. There’s another one on the phone.’

      She hung up.

      *

      Back home and exhausted, Annie stood in her bathroom and put a cold flannel to her forehead. What a day. The meeting at the jeweller’s where Henry worked in the office went quite well, although she’d hated having to lie to them. She’d used her pregnancy to good effect and even had them fussing around her with a chair and a glass of water before she’d left the shop.

      ‘If there’s anything we can do to help, Mrs Royal,’ the manager had said as she left, ‘please don’t hesitate …’

      Annie had kept her head down, not daring to look him in the eye, but she told him of her appreciation for his kind offer. It was so embarrassing and she went away full of shame, but for Henry’s sake what else could she do?

      The next pressing thing was to find some money and her wedding certificate for Mr West and that left her with another dilemma. Henry kept all their important papers in the dresser drawer, but she didn’t have the key. Henry kept all the keys to himself, while she only had the front and back door keys.

      After reviving her flagging energy levels with a sandwich, Annie tackled the drawer. She tried sliding a knife along the top, but as soon as it hit the lock, that was that. She found a bunch of keys in the outhouse but nothing fitted. She tried picking the lock with a piece of wire, but her attempt soon convinced her that she’d never make a good burglar. What looked easy on the Hollywood silver screen was far from simple in real life and it was also very frustrating. The emergency money was almost gone. If only she hadn’t bought that cake and magazine. True, the cake had only cost 3d, as did the Woman magazine – hardly high-class living – but right now every penny counted. And then there was that pot of tea she’d had this morning. Mr West already had five bob and the rent was due in two weeks’ time. Annie held her head in her hands. What on earth was she going to do? She wasn’t even in a position to earn any money. Who would employ a woman about to give birth? She lowered herself into a chair as her thoughts grew even darker. How was she going to visit Henry with no money? She hardly had enough to feed herself for three weeks, let alone travel all the way to Lewes. Then she remembered the gold watch Granny had given her for her birthday. She could pawn it for the time being. Once Henry’s trial was over and he was proven innocent, she could get it back. It was heavy, so it must be worth a bob or two. Annie searched the place high and low, but she couldn’t find it. It was all very puzzling. She had it on the day of her wedding because she remembered that Henry had remarked how much he’d liked it. She was sure she’d put it back in the box but it wasn’t there now. She racked her brains but she couldn’t remember seeing it again. Where on earth could it have gone? Having drawn a complete blank, there was only one other way forward. She had to open that drawer.

      *

      Angry and frustrated, Henry Royale lay on his cot facing the wall. How could he have ended up in such a place? He didn’t ask much out of life. A little money, a loving wife, a son … and yet it had come to this. He drew his knees up as he thought of Annie. Why, oh why, had she let that witch in? If he’d told her once, he’d told her a thousand times, ‘Don’t let anybody in the house while I’m at work.’ Of course, he’d never for a minute believed that Sarah would track him down, but if Annie had done as she was told, he could have bluffed his way out of it, same as he always did. And if she’d got a move on with the packing, they would have been long gone before the police arrived as well.

      Lewes prison, No. 1 Brighton Road, turned out to be a castellated flint and brick building. Built in Victorian times for far fewer inmates, he and another 149 prisoners were incarcerated two together in a one-man cell, with the stinking toilet stuck in the middle of the room. Only a wooden lid kept the body odours in check and, from where he lay, it wasn’t very effective. They’d told him that if he’d been a convicted man rather than a prisoner on remand, he would have been put in isolation straight away. Frankly, he would have preferred to be on his own. He hated having no privacy and, to add insult to injury, he only had a thin mattress, a stained and smelly pillow and a prison blanket on his bed, so no comfort either. He didn’t even have any more of his favourite sweets. He’d eaten the last coffee crunch before he’d been remanded in custody.

      A noxious smell filled the air as the other prisoner farted.

      ‘Whoops, sorry mate.’

      Henry pulled the blanket over his nose. His cellmate, a skinny man with a broken tooth who had obviously been drinking heavily the night before, wasn’t the only animal to share his room. Before he’d turned his back on his fellow prisoner, Henry had seen at least two cockroaches running around the perimeter of the room.

      The fat solicitor

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