Lynda La Plante - The Legacy

‘Remember, Freda, if I look good in court then people’ll want to know where I got the clothes from, you’ll be back in business, what do you say?’

Freda picked up the money and was already delving into her pattern book as Evelyne ran down the wooden staircase.

Ping! went the desk bell, and Mr Jeffrey whipped round, picked up the key to suite twenty-seven and banged it on the desk.

‘Will you want a table reserved for dinner, Miss Jones?’

Evelyne turned to him, and for the first time she wasn’t in any way ashamed or embarrassed. ‘Not at those prices I won’t, thank you.’

She was off to the lift before Mr Jeffrey could close his open jaw. Good God, she’s got herself a suite and now she was acting up like she was a duchess.

The lift-boy was about to clang the lift shut on Evelyne’s coat when she turned and gave him a look. ‘Just you try it, lad, an’ you’ll get the back of my hand. Time you learnt some manners.’

Ed Meadows was tapping on Sir Charles Wheeler’s door when he overheard Evelyne’s remark. He turned to her and grinned.

‘Good on yer, gel, cheeky little blighter, ain’t ‘e?’

Evelyne smiled, picked up her evening newspaper and put her key in the door.

‘You from round these parts, are you?’

Evelyne had already opened her door and gave him a rather frosty look. Being friendly was one thing, but he was a little too chatty. ‘I’m from the valleys, good evening to you.’

Getting no reply from knocking on His Lordship’s door, Ed waddled towards Evelyne.

‘I’m from London, suppose you can tell by me accent I’m not Welsh, I’m up ‘ere wiv me guv’nor, name’s Meadows, Ed Meadows.’

He brandished a rather dog-eared card at Evelyne.

‘Boxing promotor and trainer, ‘Ackney, London.’

Evelyne took the card and gave a curt nod, then realized she was behaving a little rudely.

‘Evelyne Jones.’

As they shook hands, Sir Charles appeared at the door of his suite. He was dressed in a plum-velvet smoking jacket. Ed Meadows turned, then stepped back and introduced Sir Charles to Evelyne. Very debonair, Sir Charles strode up to Evelyne and kissed her hand. ‘Charmed to meet you, are you staying long?’

He wasn’t frightfully interested whether she was or not, and was already heading back towards his open door. Ed beamed at Evelyne and followed the guv’nor, telling him before Evelyne could open her mouth that she was from the valleys. About to enter his suite, Sir Charles smiled. ‘What a coincidence, we were there only the other night. Well, nice to meet you, good evening.’

The door closed behind them and Evelyne entered her own suite. She bumped the door closed with her behind and tossed the keys on to the bed. Typical Londoners, think there’s only one valley … and then she pulled up, and Sir Charles’ words click-click-clicked in her brain. Surely that titled gent couldn’t have been to her valley … but it would make sense, that man … Evelyne fished in her pocket for Ed’s crumpled card, bit her lip, and then before she could change her mind she strode out of the suite and along the corridor.

Dewhurst opened the door to Sir Charles’ rooms, and stiffly enquired if she had an appointment. Behind him Ed Meadows bellowed, ‘Who is it?’

Sir Charles was sitting at a small desk. There was a big fire in the grate and there were so many doors leading off the main room that for a moment Evelyne thought she had got confused, perhaps he lived at the hotel, surely he wouldn’t have all this space just for one person? He fixed his monocle into his left eye and looked at Evelyne. ‘Ah, yes, now what can I do for you?’

Evelyne’s nerve almost deserted her, but she blurted it out as fast as she could. Had they been to the Freedom Stubbs fight? She was a friend of his and he was in prison, but he wasn’t guilty and she wondered if they could advise her what she could do. Her knees buckled slightly as she finished, she could feel the flush creeping up her cheeks.

Sir Charles leaned back in his chair and his monocle popped out. He swung it on the end of the black ribbon round his neck.

‘Dewhurst, bring the young lady in. I’m sorry, please forgive me, I didn’t catch your name …? Ah, Evelyne, yes, yes of course, a drink, dear? What would you care for?’

Evelyne said sherry because it was the first thing that came into her head, and Dewhurst placed a chair for her close to the desk and backed out of the room. Ed Meadows moved to stand behind Sir Charles, and asked Evelyne what she knew of the gypsy and how was she involved. ‘They say he’s killed four lads and you say different, that right?’

Sitting in the cosy, firelit room, Evelyne told them what she knew, took them right back to the first time when she had seen Freedom fight Dai ‘Hammer’ Thomas. She was taken aback because Ed Meadows kept interrupting her, asking all sorts of questions about other fights she knew of, had she seen him fight anywhere else in Wales? Did she know about the knockout in the ring the other night? Sir Charles eventually put his hand on Ed’s arm and, looking directly at Evelyne and speaking very slowly, asked again why, exactly why, she had come to see him.

‘Because he’s innocent and I can prove it. I’ve offered to go into court, and I just don’t think they’re going to pay any attention to what I have to say, but I know he didn’t do those murders.’

Sir Charles listened intently to Evelyne’s story, then excused himself, leaving her alone with Ed.

‘ ‘E’s a bit of a toff, but ‘e’s a real gent, know what I mean, a true blue, an’ take it from me I know what I’m talkin’ about, nothin’ he don’t know about the game, he’s even bin to America, United States of America, you know, oh yeah, ‘is Lordship’s a real pro, was a fighter ‘imself, see.’

They both turned to the closed doors, and Ed, without stopping except to swallow gulps of his frothing black Guinness, continued. ‘Nineteen-o-eight there was the Aussie fella, Jack Johnson, Gawd almighty what a fighter ‘e was, saw that big’un with Jim Jefferson, nineteenten, July fourth, you heard of the Great White Hope? I was there for that wiv ‘im, ‘e took us both over. But yer fighter knockin’ ‘em all into the corners is Dempsey, the man’s a joy ter watch, a joy ter watch, I was there, an’ guess who was sittin’ not two rows in front of me? Special cordoned-off area — Ethel Barrymore, yes, on my life Ethel Barrymore, the famous actress, was watching Dempsey fight, bloody marvellous … pardon the language, miss.’

Behind closed doors Sir Charles gave quiet instructions for Dewhurst to go down to reception and ask about this Miss Jones, find out how long she’d been staying, et cetera. When he returned to the drawing room Ed beamed at him. ‘My God, this gel knows about fighting, your Lordship.’

Evelyne hadn’t actually said a word, but she smiled, looking into her sherry glass. Sir Charles replaced his monocle and with his long fingers he drummed on the top of the inlaid writing desk. ‘Tell me, dearie, this Freedom fella, what is your relationship with him?’

She placed the glass on top of the desk and sat up very straight. ‘There is no relationship, sir, not even a friendship, I simply do not want to see an innocent man hang.’

She could feel Sir Charles’ eyes carefully noting everything about her from the top of her hair to the scuffed shoes. She was glad Miss Freda had altered her clothes, at least she looked respectable, if not fashionable.

‘You say you are prepared to go into the witness box? He is a Romany gypsy, isn’t he?’

Evelyne nodded, bit her lip. She knew he was trying to imply that there was something between the two of them, and it made her angry.