‘Oh, sorry, bach, didn’t recognize you!’ said the woman.
Taffy was riding high on the shoulders of two miners, and the makeshift ring was swarming with men, dancing and yelling, while Hugh Jones stood in the centre, screaming for quiet, his arms waving and his face bright red with fury. ‘Quiet… Quiet… Listen to me, will you listen to me!’
Freedom went inside the wagon while Jesse organized the hitching of the horses. Outside the wagon the noise of the men was diminishing, and one voice was raised high above the rest, a voice screaming, ‘Murderer! Murderer!’ The wagon rocked as the horse was backed into the shafts. Hugh Jones was slowly getting the men to listen, despite the added din of the high-pitched screams of the women who had just arrived. ‘The police couldn’t find him and they been lookin’, we got him right here, here amongst us … Freedom Stubbs killed Willie, slit his throat, are we gonna let him get away with it?’
Evelyne put her hands over her ears to shut out her father’s voice. She wanted to turn and run — run away from the madness echoing round the mountain like the Devil himself. She stood up and tried to get to her father’s side.
‘Turn the wagon over, get him out, get him out!’ Evelyne was within feet of her father, screaming at him to stop, but a clod of earth flew through the air, narrowly missing her head.
‘Tell us what you know, Bitch! Bitch!’ Frying pans and rolling pins thudded down on heads, the women were screaming and pointing at Evelyne. A man grabbed Evelyne from behind and held her arms. ‘This is the one, she’s known all along …’
Now Hugh was fighting to get to his daughter. Evelyne pulled her arms free and lashed out at her father with her fist.
Miners swarmed around the heavy wagon, heaving together to overturn it. The horse reared and kicked, striking a man on the side of his head. The wagon rolled forward, heading directly into the crowd around Hugh and Evelyne, and the men and women sprang away in fear for their lives.
Jesse whipped up the horse and lashed out at a man who tried to bring him down from the wagon. As they careered through the crowd, Freedom leaned out of the back and grabbed Evelyne by the waist. She tried to fight him off, but she was lifted off her feet and hauled on board as the wagon bounced and rumbled through the crowd.
Chapter 12
HUGH stood in the ring, or what was left of it, the ropes trailing on the ground. His initial fury had subsided, he knew he had been wrong, but he couldn’t understand his daughter — his own daughter had raised her fist to him in front of the whole village. He stood still, shaking. What in God’s name had got into her? Suddenly he took off after the mob chasing the wagon.
Evelyne clung for dear life to the side of the wagon, terrified. Behind them* the mob followed, running down the mountain. Freedom yelled to Jesse to keep clear of the camp, lead the madmen away from their people, take to the main roads. Evelyne wept, begged to be let out, but Freedom ignored her and clambered up beside Jesse. The wagon rolled from side to side as the dirt track wound and curved. The running figures were now a good distance behind them. They passed the entrance to the campsite, and Jesse handed the reins to Freedom. He jumped down as Freedom whipped the horse faster, leading the mob away from the camp. They could see that the camp was already packed up, the caravans in line, set to move out. Alone in the back of the wagon, Evelyne was bruised and battered against the sides, and still she held on.
The sound of the wheels clattering on cobbles told Evelyne they had arrived in the village. The horse slowed its frantic pace and stopped.
‘Stop in the name of the law, now get down, hands above your head, come on, you vermin, do like we say, get down.’
The wagon’s flap was pulled open and a policeman who looked inside shouted that there was a woman on board. At the same time Evelyne heard a voice asking, ‘You the gyppo they call Freedom Stubbs?’
They were already putting the handcuffs on him by the time she stepped down. He made no effort to escape, did nothing to stop them handcuffing him, and said not one word. They hauled him roughly towards the police van, and even though he made no effort to evade arrest, one of the policemen brought his truncheon down hard on the back of his neck. He slumped forward, and they dragged him like an animal into the cage at the back of the van, locking and bolting it just in time as the mob appeared at the top of the village street.
The men and women were quieter now and, seeing the uniformed police encircling the van with truncheons at the ready, they kept their distance. ‘Keep on walking now, come along, get back to your homes, the show’s over. Come along now, keep walking, everybody keep walking.’
Slowly, they moved in groups past the police van, their interest directed first at the van, then at Evelyne. The women shot foul looks at her, then turned their faces away.
Hugh walked to his daughter’s side and laid his hand on her arm.
‘Don’t touch me, this is your doing, this is down to you; Hugh Jones, I’d have thought you had more sense.’
Lizzie-Ann passed by and heard Evelyne’s words, and muttered an abusive, bitter, ‘gyppo lover’. The other women nearby picked up the phrase, murmuring quietly but clearly as they passed the wagon, ‘gyppo woman, gyppo lover.’
Hugh stood still, head bowed, and Gladys whimpered and slunk to his side. The police van was cranked up and the engine chugged into life; then it headed for the police station with Evan Evans, flushed and apologetic, hurrying alongside.
Evelyne walked, head held high, back to Aldergrove Street. She knew they were all looking at her, talking about her, and she kept her eyes straight ahead. She was comforted by the thought that behind them all the caravans would be silently moving out, at least they had not torn the campsite apart.
Hugh wanted Gladys gone; he wanted to talk in private with Evelyne, but Gladys clung to his arm. He sat her down, then folded his arms, staring hard at Evelyne. She met his gaze head on, defiant.
‘Now, Evie, out with it, we have a right to know.’
In a quiet, dead voice, Evelyne told them the truth.
‘I was at a boxing match in Cardiff, remember, Da, the time I went by myself? I don’t want to go into the details of how I got there, but I went to a boxing fair. There was a riot, and I was leaving, but I had to go back inside the tent for my bag, I’d lost my handbag.’
Gladys stood up and demanded to know what on earth this had to do with Willie’s murder. Evelyne pushed her down and leaned over her.
‘Because when I went back I saw a poor gypsy girl being raped, not by one but by four lads. An’ they’d worse than raped her, they’d taken a bench leg to her.’
Gladys screeched at the top of her voice, ‘You sayin’ Willie had something to do with it?’
‘I saw him, he was on top of the girl… it was me that pulled him off by his hair, and I’d swear to it on the Bible, you want me to swear it on the Bible?’
Gladys shook her head, repeating over and over that she couldn’t believe it — not that boy, not her sister’s boy, he wouldn’t do a thing like that.
‘He did it, Gladys, he was one of those lads, the poor girl. I’ll never forget her face.’
Hugh brushed Evelyne aside. ‘That’s enough now, come on, Gladys, I’ll walk you home.’
He helped Gladys to the door, and just as he went out he gave Evelyne a heart-broken look. She couldn’t meet his eyes, the look was filled with so much hurt, why hadn’t she told him?