The Petticoat Men (19 page)

Buried it in Freddie’s shawl. Freddie still in his gown all covered in blood and me in my nightdress, like a couple of madwomen in a stage melodrama only it was real.

And all that story is why Mattie loves Freddie so much, because he was kind to her when she needed him, and Ronald wasn’t, and she wants to be cherished and loved again. Me and Billy we cherish and love her so much, but I see that it isn’t that that she wants, she wants to be loved and cherished by a
man
, more than by her family. Somehow as if that is the only loving and cherishing that really counts. And she thinks that Freddie, when he realises she will stand by him and love him, will be that man. And I dont expect he will.

Kind, sad Freddie.

Surely something will happen to prevent all this going further. Probably Lord Arthur Clinton’s family will intervene – and hadn’t Lord Arthur told Ernest his sister was a mistress of the Prince of Wales? Let Him intervene then! And Freddie’s father works in the courts and his grandfather was a famous judge wasn’t he? Something will happen; they cant let this go on and on. Although, of course, after the next court day something had happened already. That could never be taken back, however it might end.

Once your bum has been in the newspapers how can things ever be the same again?

17

‘I’
M
GOING
BACK
to the next hearing at the Magistrates’ Court,’ I announced.

Ma looked at me. That way she has. ‘Well then, I’m coming too,’ she said. ‘We’ll have to go early to get in.’

‘I can
do
it you know, Ma.’

‘You’re not going by yourself,’ she said.

So we all got up in the dark, Billy too, we were even too early for the omnibuses, and he walked with us all the way, before he started work at the Parliament, he and Ma took my pace, and I walked as fast as I could and Billy whistled sort of absent-mindedly in the early morning, he’s been a bit distracted these last days, Ma and I both noticed.

‘Do you think he’s got a sweetheart?’ I asked Ma but she didn’t answer me.

It was hardly light but the streets as we walked were already crowded, hundreds of carts with vegetables piled up high, some orange pumpkins fell off and rolled over the dirty old cobbles and they were gone in such a flash, children appeared so quick, and an old lady with a sack.

‘There’ll be a lot of pumpkin soup today,’ said Ma, and she laughed, ‘the driver told them to be ready on the corner!’

And in the streets there were animals and milk-girls and street-girls and a whole bunch of cows, what a stink, and huge wagons of Burton’s beer from the vaults at St Pancras Station, and all the costermongers with their fish and their fruit and stuff in big baskets and all the dogs slinking about, and rats in gutters. But not many coaches and carriages at that hour. We could’ve had breakfast on the way at one of the little stalls but Ma made us have bread and tea before we left. And you know what? there were lots of people crowding about the Magistrates’ Court before us, even then, even though we’d left home in the dark – that’s how much interest this case had made – and guess what? some of them were servants for the noble people, keeping their places in the queue, what a cheek. Billy waved us goodbye seeing us safely at the court, and we were early enough and when the doors opened Ma and I knew exactly where to go now of course and hurried in and we got a good place.

And then of course I wished we hadn’t.

At first it was almost fun; and we were sure that this time it would all be over like a bad dream. There was this very angry businessman, Mr Cox, he gave great booming evidence about kissing Ernest – thinking he was a young woman. He kept looking at Ernest, really enraged and his face all red as he told it.

‘I met Ernest Boulton with Lord Arthur Clinton, oh, some time ago now. Over a year I should think. They were with a solicitor, Mr W. H. Roberts, I was introduced, they didn’t say what W and H were. Mr W. H. Roberts left but I had lunch with the other two in the Guildhall Tavern. They were dressed as men, of course. Boulton said, “Oh you city birds have good fun in your office, and have champagne,”
and he said it in a womanly flirtatious way so I thought he
was
a woman and I said, “Well you had better come and see
.
” And they did, both of them, Ernest Boulton and Lord Arthur Clinton, they came to my offices in Basinghall Street, my partner came in, and we opened champagne, which we laid out in the office. I treated Boulton’ – he cast a really furious glance at Ernest – ‘as a fascinating woman and I think Lord Arthur Clinton was jealous
for he left the room and while he was away Boulton went on in a flirting manner with me and I kissed him – or her. Or it.’

All the noble ladies and actresses and gentlemen in the audience laughed so much I thought the trial could not go on, and Ernest and Freddie couldn’t help but laugh too! But Mr Cox took absolutely no notice and just went on talking angrily, so everyone was quiet to hear what he might say next, and the journalists in particular were looking very interested.

‘Shortly after the kiss Boulton complained of being chilly and my partner whipped off the tablecloth and wrapped up Boulton’s feet in it and placed him in an armchair.’

‘I beg your pardon?’ said Mr Flowers. ‘Could you repeat that series of events, Mr Cox? You wrapped Mr Boulton in a tablecloth, you say?’

‘He complained of being cold.’

‘So you wrapped him in a tablecloth? Is this usual?’

Mr Cox got angrier and angrier. ‘We are gentlemen.’

There was so much laughter now that Mr Flowers had to bang his hammer many times.

‘Then what happened, Mr Cox?’

‘Nothing. They left. And then I heard from others that Boulton was definitely a man.’

‘And you had kissed him.’

‘I thought he was a
woman
! They tricked me! But after I heard that, you can imagine how angry I was to have been tricked in such a manner! I was disgusted. I went to Evans’ Restaurant in Covent Garden. There were Park, Boulton and Lord Arthur Clinton, all dressed as men. Well I pointed them out to the waiters, and spoke of their nefarious tricks but the waiters seemed not to wish to turn them out. Do you hear that? Waiters hindering a gentleman? So I spoke severely but calmly to the waiters again. “Let me pass,” I said, “I will make no disturbance but let me pass.” And they did and I went straight up to the table where they were sitting. I said, “You damned set of infernal scoundrels, you ought to be kicked out of this place.” And I remained some little while near the table. And I used this language three or four times, I knew they heard it. But they did nothing. In fact they went on speaking to each other as if
I wasn’t there,
the scoundrels. Soon after, I left.’

This witness, Mr Cox, had such a red face now that I thought he might expire.

‘What I dont understand,’ he said, very much aggrieved, especially by the laughter, ‘is why I am having to say all this in public! I cannot bear to see these – creatures! I am a public-spirited gentleman and I saw reports of this case in the newspapers. So I took it upon myself to go with my evidence to Superintendent Thomson last night as any reputable citizen would do – and frankly it is a mystery to me why I am subpoenaed here today.’

There was much applause and laughter from the audience even though Mr Flowers told them they must be quiet or they would not be allowed to stay, but I thought even Mr Flowers was smiling a little bit now. And Ma and I sort of relaxed and smiled at each other. And soon we were smiling even more. The next person giving evidence at first struck me as quite mad and her hair started falling down as she was talking.

‘My name is Ann Empson and I let rooms to respectable gentlemen only at 46 Davies-street and I let rooms to Lord Arthur Clinton, specifically advising him of the rules of my establishment, no women, no noise, etc, etc. He agreed with the rules. And because he was a Noble Lord I lent him money, he said he was temporarily unmonied and so I helped him out, expecting to be repaid almost immediately – he was a Lord after all, how did I know he was about to be declared a bankrupt, how was I supposed to know that, eh? Then he said he had a cousin called Mr Ernest Boulton and he would like him to stay occasionally. “Well where is he going to sleep?” I asked. “There’s only one bed!” And with Lord Arthur’s persuasion I obtained another bed. Next thing I know valises and portmanteaus are being dragged up my nicely polished staircases by various gentlemen, including that Mr Park I think, and a
lady
was seen late at night, but when I confronted Lord Arthur with this information and reminded him very firmly of the rules he assured me I had been mistaken, he only had gentlemen visitors.’

There was definitely something a bit – a bit peculiar about this landlady’s way of talking, well like I said I thought she was mad and at this point Mr Flowers started to intervene but by now Miss Ann Empson was in full flow, with her hair flying about.

‘And when I went to clean the room I examined the sleeping arrangements and it was clear to me – I will not go into detail of course’ – and she paused dramatically, her voice full of horror – ‘that Mr Ernest Boulton had been sleeping in the same bed as Lord Arthur Clinton!’

Having delivered this piece of information she swayed slightly. All the journalists were writing furiously and breaking their pencils, Lord Arthur had been mentioned before today of course but only in passing; this was what they had been waiting for, as Ma had foretold.

‘She’s
inebriated
,’ whispered Ma, and she couldn’t help laughing. One of Ernest’s and Freddie’s lawyers, called I think Mr Straight, got up.

‘Can I ask you, Ann Empson, if it is just possible that you are drunk?’

‘You mind your tongue, you cheeky beggar!’

‘Are you married, Ann Empson?’

‘Certainly not!’

‘It might have been an advantage to you.’

‘Not if I had been married to Park, or Boulton or any of that lot.’

This was the loudest laughter of all and Mr Flowers had to give a very severe speech while banging his hammer on his bench, saying the next person to cause a disturbance would ensure that every spectator in the court would be turned out. Nothing seemed to stop the housekeeper, however, who just went on talking.

‘Now you listen to this! Lord Arthur owed me money, as I say I had lent him some because I thought he was an Honourable Lord and he wasn’t at all, he was a bankrupt bugger! And to reimburse myself I took some of their things, I took photos and letters, hundreds of them, I kept some, listen, you just listen to this!’ and she actually waved one from Ernest to Lord Arthur and read it before anyone stopped her.

My dearest Arthur,

I am just off to Chelmsford with Fanny, where I shall stay till Monday. We are going to a party tomorrow. Send me some money, Wretch!

Stella Clinton

The audience erupted and she was about to embark on another one, dropping papers, and pointing at Ernest and Freddie in a vague manner but Mr Flowers intervened and told her extremely severely to give the letters to the court where they should properly have been deposited. But she was unstoppable.

‘I did deposit them,’ she said, ‘but I kept one or two as evidence!’ She pointed dramatically at Freddie. ‘That’s him!’ she cried. ‘I’d know him anywhere even if he’s not in a negligee! That’s Ernest Boulton!’

‘Excuse me,’ said Mr Flowers leaning forward politely. ‘For the clarification of this court would you identify Ernest Boulton again.’

She pointed again at Freddie. ‘That’s Ernest Boulton!’ and as it was Freddie she kept pointing to, this made her sound even more mad and everybody in the court laughed and started shouting out almost and she was almost physically removed from the witness stand, still speaking, amid great applause.

I saw that the next witness prepared herself before she spoke, a bit like as if she was in front of a mirror, she patted her hair and lifted her head and looked about and smiled at the audience as if she was about to give a performance – and then she began – and did the faces of the journalists become even more excited as they wrote down the words for their newspapers!

‘My name is Maria Duffin. I know all about this matter because I let rooms at 36 Southampton-street to Lord Arthur Clinton and I’m telling you that dirty Ernest Boulton masqueraded as Lord Arthur’s wife and what’s more, you listen to this, Ernest Boulton ordered – I know this – I seen them – he ordered visiting cards with LADY CLINTON writ on them.’

There was a huge explosion of noise in court at that but I could feel Ma ruffling, quite wild, next to me. ‘That woman is
not
the landlady of 36 Southampton-street,’ she said. (Ma knows everything as I’ve said so often before.) ‘She’s only a bleeding maid, leave it to me, I’ll fix her,’ and Ma just got up and left the courtroom!

Maria Duffin waited for the noise to subside and then, giving a small nod as if in pleased acceptance of all the excitement she was causing, went on. ‘Now, listen to this, everybody, that dirty Ernest Boulton drooped about all day in a negligee, and they slept in the same bed – I know, I checked the sheets! – and Lord Arthur called Ernest
darling
and
my dear
and
Stella.
’