Perseverance Street (9 page)

He stood there like an errant schoolboy being caught playing truant, his
Yorkshire Evening Post
clasped in his hand, as Lily pushed the pram towards him.

‘I just thought you’d like to know that my husband was mentioned in dispatches. I got a letter this morning. I’m ever so proud of him.’

‘I’m very
pleased for him.’

‘I’m guessing you told lies about me because you’re afraid of your Vera. I notice she was one of the crones cackling at me when I came home with Christopher. Pity you’re not brave like my Larry or the courts wouldn’t have found me guilty of attacking Mrs Muscroft with my fists. All you had to do was come forward and tell the truth but you lied to the police and told them you didn’t see what happened.’

Albert muttered something which she couldn’t make out, then she saw a look of concern on his face as he looked over her shoulder. His wife and Hilda Muscroft were approaching. Lily turned to face them.

‘I was just telling Albert about my husband being mentioned in dispatches – this means he was a brave and outstanding man, unlike poor old Albert who’s scared stiff of you two lying old crones.’

Hilda’s face turned into a mask of hate. ‘The court found yer guilty, which means yer’ve gorra criminal record for violence.’

‘They only found me guilty because of your lies and his cowardice!’

Lily jabbed a thumb towards Albert, who wished he was anywhere but here. She returned her attention to the two glowering women.

‘Do you know why my Michael’s still missing? He’s missing because no one’s bothered to help look for him. Not even the bloody police. It’s easier for them to think I’ve murdered him and hidden him somewhere. One of these days I’ll bring Michael home alive and well, but I don’t expect either of you to apologise for being nasty to me. Only decent people apologise.’

Vera
went to Albert and dragged him away. He yanked himself free and walked off to the lavatory yard, humiliated.

Lily watched him go, then turned to Vera. ‘You might be able to order your husband around, but his bowels have a mind of their own.’

Vera shook her fist. ‘One o’ these days yer’ll swing fer what yer did ter your lad! Bloody murderer!’

Lily flushed with anger, let go of the pram and took a couple of quick strides towards Vera who foolishly stood her ground. Being told she’d killed her beloved son was like being stabbed in the heart. Lily clenched her fists and punched out at Vera with all her strength. She wasn’t a big woman but the adrenalin now surging through her veins made up for that. In a flurry of punches she caught Vera flush on her nose and then in the eye, knocking her to the ground. People appeared at doors and windows. Hilda retreated; she had no intention of helping out her stricken friend. Albert, alerted by the commotion, came out of the lavatory block and looked on as his wife was being beaten up by the smaller woman. Then he went back inside, not wishing to be seen witnessing this and not helping.

Leaving Vera lying on the ground with her face covered in blood, Lily went back to the pram, spun it on its wheels and headed home. Her belligerent demeanour began to collapse as she approached her house. The confrontation had taken a lot out of the steel out of her and she didn’t have much left in her to begin with. The previous day she’d had to endure a supercilious woman magistrate castigating her for an act of unbridled violence for which she’d been fined seven pounds ten shillings. What the hell was going to happen to her now?

By the
time she got back inside she broke down into uncontrollable tears. She’d had just about all she could take and was still crying and rocking Christopher in her arms when the police arrived half an hour later. They knocked, tried the door and walked in. Eileen Morley and a male constable. Lily looked up at them through tear-stained, defiant eyes.

‘I’m not like this. You people made me like this. You people told them I killed Michael. The woman out there called me a murderer for killing my son. What do you expect me to do? Every minute he’s missing is tearing my heart out and I’ve got to put up with people like that.’

‘We didn’t tell them anything of the sort,’ said Eileen gently.

‘Your lot obviously hinted at it.’ Lily got to her feet and walked to the window. ‘That’s enough for the idiots out there.’ She turned to face the WPC. ‘Let’s face it. Mr Bannister doesn’t believe my story about Oldroyd. And if he doesn’t believe that, what does he believe?’

The constable with Eileen grew impatient at all this chatter. He placed a hand on Lily’s shoulder. ‘Lily Robinson, I’m arresting you for common assault on Mrs Vera Pilkington. You do not have to say anything but anything you do say may be taken down and used in evidence against you.’

Lily stood there in silence, still rocking Christopher, as the constable stood back to await her reaction.

‘I’ll
take care of the baby,’ said Eileen.

‘No, you will not!’ said Lily sharply. ‘He stays with me. I’ve already lost one child by handing him over to someone else.’

Eileen held up placating palms. ‘All right, all right. You can bring him to the station but while you’re being interviewed you’ll have to let me take care of him. I’ll hand him back to you, I promise.’

Lily looked at her long and hard, then hung her head and breathed a long, mournful sigh. ‘How did it come to this? Why are we all turning against one another? I’ve never hit anyone in my life before all this.’

‘I don’t think the war has helped,’ said Eileen. ‘Do you need a coat?’

Lily knew that to put on her coat she’d have to give up Christopher, even if only momentarily. ‘No,’ she said, ‘it’s warm enough without.’

Eileen glanced at the wall clock before they left and wondered if it would do any harm, while they were in the area, to ask the neighbours if they’d seen it on her wall before last April. But she decided against it. That wasn’t her job. It might, in a Chinese whisper sort of way, add to the rumours going around about Lily. She wasn’t a detective. Let DS Bannister sort his own problems out. She was guessing that Lily would get a custodial sentence for this attack, which would keep her out of harm’s way long enough for the DS to ask all the questions he liked.

The
courts in Leeds Town Hall were designed by the Victorians to be dark and intimidating. The only concessions to comfort were the cushions on the seats of the magistrates, and the only concession to coloured decoration was the Leeds Coat of Arms on the wall at the back of the magistrate’s bench, featuring three miserable-looking owls and a dead sheep. What owls and sheep had to do with Leeds, an engineering city, was anyone’s guess. Lily was taken to the dock by the court usher. She gripped the sides as she gave her name and address and pleaded guilty to the charge of assault. Her thoughts were on Christopher whom she’d handed over to Eileen Morley just minutes before.

‘What if they lock me up? What will happen to him? I’m breastfeeding him. How can I do that in prison?’

‘Look, Lily, just plead guilty. Tell them the story you told me about these women accusing you of killing Michael. Mention your husband getting killed in action. Give them a sob story and you’ll most likely get off with another fine – it’ll probably be a lot more than seven pounds ten, though. Just be polite and don’t forget to call them your worship. I’ll be waiting with Christopher outside the door.’

There were
three magistrates, all men. In the middle sat Mr Iredale, the chairman, from whom she needed sympathy. He looked to be a well-fed man in his early forties: too old for this war, too young for the last. He wore a tweed coat, a tie of regimental design, a badge in his lapel and epaulettes, possibly to give him a military appearance. But his weak-jawed, flabby face let him down. Lily’s heart sank as she looked at the three of them. Not too much sympathy on show here. One of the other magistrates spoke first.

‘Could you give the court your name and full address?’

‘Mrs Lilian Marie Robinson. Thirteen, Perseverance Street, Leeds.’

‘Mrs Robinson, you have been charged with assaulting Mrs Vera Pickersgill of number twenty-seven, Perseverance Street. How do you plead?’

‘Guilty, Your Worship.’

‘And do you have anything to say in mitigation of your actions?’

Lily nodded, still wondering how Christopher was faring. She heard nothing from outside in the corridor. The bench was waiting for her to reply. The magistrate repeated his question, impatiently.

‘Oh, I’m sorry,’ said Lily. ‘Yes, I’d like to say that I haven’t been myself in recent weeks since I got news that my husband was killed in the war.’

Mr Iredale spoke for the first time. ‘You have our sympathy, Mrs Robinson, but you’re not the only war widow in this country. If every war widow behaved as you did this country would descend into anarchy.’

‘I also lost my son, Michael.’

‘We know
about this, Mrs Robinson, and we’re not here to question why you handed him over to a man you hardly knew unless you’re claiming that your mind is unbalanced?’

The police had given the story to the newspapers and for three days it had received dwindling exposure at a time when the main news was the progress of the Allied armies in Europe. Michael remained missing and it increased the police’s suspicions that Lily wasn’t telling them everything she knew about his disappearance. A hint had also been passed on to Iredale that it would suit the police to have Mrs Robinson held in custody for a while. Being sent to prison turns a citizen into a nonperson: a person without rights. Becoming a non-person has the effect of reducing a prisoner’s resolve to maintain secrecy under interrogation, especially a prisoner who’s never been locked up before. The police reckoned that a few weeks in prison would soften her up enough to tell them what she’d done with Michael.

‘No, I’m not unbalanced, Your Worship. I was just confused, sad at losing my husband – a brave man who was mentioned in dispatches. I had no one to turn to. I have no family, you see. I was brought up in children’s homes and my late husband’s family wanted nothing to do with me, nor my children.’

‘And why was this?’

‘They thought I wasn’t good enough for him.’ She wasn’t about to mention that Michael was conceived out of wedlock.

‘Hmm.’ Mr Iredale looked at his notes. ‘I see you were married in the August and your son was born just five months later. Would this have any bearing on their antagonism towards you?’

Lily
was taken aback by the question that seemed to have no bearing on her case.

‘I don’t know, Your Worship.’

‘Really? Tell me what you
do
know, Mrs Robinson.’

Lily took a deep breath. This wasn’t going her way at all. This man had come out gunning for her. ‘I’m really sorry I hurt Mrs Pickersgill. I’m not like that, honest. She was so nasty to me that she made me lose my temper. She accused me of murdering Michael. It’s bad enough having your son abducted without people who don’t know what they’re talking about accusing you of murder. My Michael’s still out there and nasty people saying things like that won’t help to bring him back.’

She knew Vera Pickersgill and Hilda Muscroft were in the public seats but she chose not to look their way and acknowledge their presence.

‘This isn’t the first time recently that you’ve attacked one of your neighbours, is it?’ said Iredale.

‘I didn’t attack Mrs Muscroft. I just pushed her because she accused me of murdering Michael as well. If she’d told the truth in court I wouldn’t have been found guilty.’

‘Liar!’ screamed Hilda. ‘I had to have six stitches in me bloody head!’

‘That’s because she tripped and banged her head on a lamp-post,’ said Lily. She spoke, nervously, without looking Hilda’s way. Iredale banged a gavel and asked for silence in the public seats, then addressed himself to Lily.

‘Nonetheless, Mrs Robinson, you’ve
been found guilty of two counts of assault in the space of a few days. Do you have anything further to say which might persuade us not to give a custodial sentence?’

Lily remembered Eileen Morley’s words of advice.
Be polite
. ‘Yes, Your Worship. I’m sorry for what I did but I have a new-born baby boy who’s still being breastfed. To take me away from him at this time would be very harmful.’

Mr Iredale glared at her. ‘Mrs Robinson. I’m not entirely sure you’re a fit person to be a mother. My colleagues and I will retire to consider our verdict.’

It took them twenty minutes, during which time Lily remained in the dock while the court officials chatted with each other and prepared the rest of the day’s cases. A policewoman was standing just behind Lily’s shoulder. Lily turned to her.

‘What do you think they’ll do?’

‘I don’t know love, but you picked the short straw getting Iredale. He’s what we call a confirmed bachelor – doesn’t much like women.’

‘Oh,’ said Lily, wishing she hadn’t asked.

The magistrates returned in solemn procession and sat down. Iredale put on a pair of spectacles and read from a piece of paper he was carrying.

‘Mrs Robinson. We have taken into account the fact that your recent unfortunate experiences appear to have adversely affected your mental state. It’s with this in mind that the judgement of this court is that you be sent to a secure establishment for psychiatric treatment until such time as it is deemed that you’re a fit person to be safely returned to the community. During this time your child will be taken care of by the authorities.’

The
verdict numbed Lily. ‘What?’ she said. ‘For how long? How long are you sending me away for?’

‘For as long as it takes, Mrs Robinson.’

Lily’s self-control exploded. ‘This isn’t fair! None of this was my fault.’ She pointed to Hilda and Vera. ‘It was the two sniggering witches over there! I had my son stolen from me and the police are too damned lazy to do anything about it and then I have to put up with you three bloody stooges who can’t see right from wrong!’

She darted from the dock and made for the unguarded door which she pushed open. Outside was Eileen holding Christopher. Lily snatched him away from her and ran down the corridor. It had all happened so quickly that it was several seconds before a court usher followed Lily out of the door.