Murder in a Chelsea Garden by L. B. Hathaway

Author:L. B. Hathaway [Hathaway, L. B.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction
Publisher: Whitehaven Man Press London
Published: 2021-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Sixteen

Dolly spoke as if in a trance, staring out of the window at the twilight dancing through the leaves of the plane trees, her cigarette burning down, forgotten.

She spoke of Christabel Pankhurst, who, unlike her mother, Emmeline, was disillusioned with peaceful protests.

‘Christabel was a firecracker,’ said Dolly, clearly but flatly. ‘And in 1906 she was lookin’ for like-minded women.’

‘Christabel Pankhurst? Oh, my giddy aunt!’ muttered Richard, his hand briefly shading his eyes in disbelief.

‘You got in with her? That crazy woman? She’s still famous at the Yard: known as “Queen of the Mob”. Caused us endless sleepless nights until she moved to America, thank goodness! I say, does Rufus know about any of this?’

‘’Course not!’ Dolly shook her head angrily. ‘And it will stay that way. Why do you think I didn’t want to tell this story back home? It would finish me. This stays strictly between us.’

Posie threw a warning glance at her husband. Don’t speak, or judge. Don’t ruin this, darling.

Dolly shrugged. ‘Christabel wanted to try tactics which would get us into the newspapers. Around the time I joined the group – in the early autumn of 1906 – she’d decided actual violence was the way forward. Hattie Synnes was very much part of Christabel’s inner group of pals. They were both clever girls and I was terrified of them both. But pretty soon I was invited into it. It was mad. We had this crazy feelin’ we could do anythin’ in the world. Christabel was a sort of magnet: ridiculously beautiful; crazily clever; brave like a lion. She directed blimmin’ everything.’

‘You don’t say!’ muttered Richard, but fortunately Dolly didn’t hear.

Dolly was busy explaining how Christabel Pankhurst had realised she spoke fluent French, and this was the key which had led to Christabel putting Dolly and Hattie together.

‘As it turned out, Hattie Synne’s mother was also French! Although about as different as it was possible to be from my poor mama, who had come over as a troupe dancer with the touring branch of the Paris Moulin Rouge and then never left.’

Dolly laughed and made a tra-la-la gesture, indicating exaggerated snobbery.

‘Hattie’s Parisian mother was posh and had met Hattie’s English father when he was stationed out in Paris. But, on the surface we both sounded French. And that’s what Christabel wanted. For us to walk together, chatterin’ away, for all the world like two nice French tourists. To walk into whatever madness it was that Christabel had planned, so people would never guess we were actually part of it all.’

Richard had been lighting a cigarette, but he paused, genuinely shocked. ‘You were used as a decoy?’

Dolly nodded. ‘Yep. And by December 1906, it escalated. We were told to cause trouble, basically.’

Dolly recounted the start of 1907 – the freezing January. There was a Suffragette raid on the Houses of Parliament, with Christabel’s friends attacking Members of Parliament with sticks.

‘We got hauled up for that. There was a trial in the February.’

‘You got caught?’ Richard looked horrified.

‘That’s right, there

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