1969 - Ch. 04

Pauline.

The judge's hand stops and his eyes question me. He smiles and whispers that I'm teasing him. His lips close on my ear. I feel his wet tongue slip in my ear. Why do men think we like that!

"Pauline, I could pay you £30 tonight, to let me chase you round the room wearing your uniform, and of course to catch you."

He guides my hand to his erection, and I pull it away.

I tell him I have to make a quick phone call. 5 minutes late I'm back from the phone booth.

"Your Worship, thank you so very for the room, I'd like to have a bath, and go to bed, if you don't mind?"

He pulls his hand back, and although he's still grinning at me, the rest of his face has dropped at my rejection of his obvious intentions. He nods after a few seconds.

"Pauline, I have taken the room for a few days for you. Tomorrow night I'd like to have dinner with you...in your room."

It wasn't a question but a statement. I'm fully aware what he expects, and if I hadn't just made other arrangements on the phone, I might have been so desperate, I would have let him. He leans forward and kisses my cheek, but lingers longer than is decent.

"May I ask one last thing of you before you go?"

He smiles, "Of course Pauline."

"My husband gave me this envelope it contains papers asking for a divorce."

He takes the envelope off me, and reads the papers inside.

"It's all standard stuff. Unreasonable behaviour covers a lot of sins," he pats my leg and this time moves his hand further up, so his finger tips are under my skirt hem again, "Look Pauline, I'd really like to go up to your room, to discuss this."

"Would you make me marry...Mr Cox?"

"I don't think you need worry, perhaps if we went to your room, now, I could explain that you needn't worry at all."

"No, I thank you for the room, but I don't want sex with you, ever," I say and I push his hand down.

This time his whole face turns into a scowl. He rises to his feet and flexes his fingers in an agitated way. He takes two or three steps away from me, and then he comes back and leans down to my ear.

"You're making a big mistake, young lady."

Day Seven.

Harrington-Brown.

Well the jury have reached a verdict. After a few phone calls Tom and I head back to the court, to be there for 12.30.

"Fuck me, she's changed, what the hell is she wearing?"

We watch her come in flanked by Jimmy and his number two.

"It's quite a simple, but yet a stunning outfit. White knee high boots, a purple mini skirt, no a micro skirt, with black tights and a pink blouse, even her eye makeup and lipstick is purple."

"Tom for god's sake I can see that, but doesn't she know we can see she's wearing a red bra under that blouse?"

"Yes, it's all the rage to wear a sheer blouse that shows a bra these days, some women even go without the bra, and if I'm not mistaken it's a quarter cup bra."

"Tom if you mean we can see her fucking nipples then I'm way ahead of you. I tell you there isn't much to that bra. How the hell can it be strong enough to hold her tits up?"

"That's the way things are now. My aunts all wear the old fashioned white long line bras."

"It must be confusing when they pull them out of the washing machine."

"Not really, I know my Aunt's sizes. I just hang them on the line. Their nylons are a curse to keep separate, but I do wash them by hand."

"Tom, don't you think that sort of thing should be kept a secret?"

He looks at me with a blank expression on his face, and then chuckles, a little girlishly.

"Oh I don't tell everyone that."

I look at him and shake my head, and he blushes slightly.

"What's she up to Tom, dressing like that?"

"At a guess Sir, the jury has made their decision, so it doesn't really matter much how she is dressed. Perhaps this is how she usually dresses."

I wait for the judge; the whole court waits for the judge. When I look round he is staring at her crossed legs, and then he spots her nipples, and if I'm not mistaken, which I'm not, her nipples are erect!

"Tom, there's something about the judge today. He doesn't look best pleased with Cinderella, although I could sit here all day and look at her."

"Well what are we waiting for? Get the jury in here, now!"

"My goodness he shouldn't speak to people like that."

"Tom something has wound him up, maybe his little bimbo didn't turn up last night."

"Members of the jury, have you reached your decision?"

The man with the bowler hat stands up, and clears his throat.

"Yes Your Worship, by a vote of 9 to 3, we award the 190 thousand pounds, 9 shillings and 6 pence, to Ms Taylor and Mrs Stride."

The court gallery is mixed over the decision, Tom and I are elated, and Ms Taylor still can't manage a smile. Poor Cinderella just sits there with those hard as rock nipples, staring at of all people, the judge.

The reporters run for the 4 telephones, which have been hastily installed overnight.

"Mrs Stone, stay where you are please, Mr Spratt too, and Mr Harrington-Brown, if you wouldn't mind delaying your celebrations for 10 minutes?"

"Certainly Your Worship," I reply.

The court clears, and Jimmy is having quite an animated discussion with Cinderella.

"What's going on Sir?"

"I don't know Tom, but Mr Cox is motionless."

Mr Spratt's number two, helped by two court officials, manhandles Jimmy Spratt from the court.

"She dismissed him, young Tom, she dismissed her solicitor."

"Mr Harrington-Brown, I've asked you to stay as a witness. I don't expect to hear your voice. Your rather, flamboyantly dressed number two can leave as well."

I nod to Tom and he walks in his usual quick short steps, out of the courtroom.

The double doors close, echoing round the courtroom.

"Mr Cox, step forward please?"

I watch the judge open a rather old law book.

"Mr Albert Cox, is it still your intention to marry Mrs Pauline Stone, and care for her and the unborn child, which the pair of you have conceived out of wedlock?"

"Yes Your Worship."

The judge adjusts his glasses, and reads from the book to himself for a few seconds.

"Mrs Pauline Stone, according to the law passed in 1698, you will, on order of this court, marry Mr Albert Cox, as soon as your divorce is granted, do you have any objections, or reasons to object?"

"Your Worship, Mr Cox has treated me as no more than his whore for months. I've had to endure many sex acts forced upon me, by Mr Cox. He forced me to go with him on holiday to Blackpool. He paraded me around as his wife to some, and some sort of sex slave to others, as his fancy saw fit."

What the fuck is going on here! She sits there with those hard nipples and heavily painted lips and dense eye make up, as cool as you like!

"When I left you in the hotel lobby last night, it was to phone Mr Cox and ask if he would still force me to marry him."

My God, don't tell me Cinderella has been to bed with our dear old judge?

"I told Mr Cox he wouldn't get his wish, unless the court decides otherwise. Mr Cox came to my hotel room last night, where he demanded further payment for the rent of the house I was staying in with my husband. The rent has been paid in full now that I have spent all night pleasing Mr Cox...several times for his pleasure."

Fuck me this is way beyond what I was expecting...hell I don't really know what I was expecting, but it certainly wasn't this.

"Mr Cox took me shopping this morning, and bought me all the clothes and makeup I'm wearing now; he made me walk through the busy streets on his arm. I have had to endure many eager eyes on my naked breast. It was his wish I wore this to court today. Further more, if your decision is for me to marry Mr Cox, Mr Cox insists my last night of freedom is spent with you, Your Worship, and for you to give me away at the wedding."

God that's perked the judge up, I bet somewhere under his gown something else has perked up too!

The judge coughs, and then he takes a huge gulp of his gin, "You'll do as I say, Mrs Stone?"

She nods, and then lowers her head. I really can't make out why she is telling the judge these things. Well let's face it, the way she looks and the things she has said, if I was the judge I'd have right now on the courtroom floor.

"I've been instructed to tell you, I will do as you wish, without question Your Worship. So, I'm asking you, and begging you, not to make me his wife."

She says that but there is no emotion, and no trace of pleading in her voice. Even the judge looks perplexed. His shaking hand picks up the glass again, and he takes another big gulp of his gin, and then has to wipe his chin because of the spillage.

"Mr Cox is this some sort of joke, or is what Mrs...Pauline, offering real?"

Mr Cox moves to her side," Your Worship, Pauline will obviously out last me. I have told her, she and her child will be well looked after, even after my demise, it will be in my will. Right now she has nothing; it is your choice whether she ends up on the streets. Between us all in this room, every penny of the money I leave her, she will earn, and yes Your Worship she will open her legs for you. I guarantee it."

"Young lady, you have attended my court today, without a proper bra, under a see through blouse."

"Your Worship, if I may?" Cox says with a sickly smile.

I watch Mr Cox lift Cinderella's skirt to her waist, showing off her pussy without panties under her tights. She just stands there as if she's a shop mannequin, doing absolutely nothing to cover herself!

The judge is wiping his brow now, and he takes a deep breath.

As if the devil himself has entered his body, he smiles down on Cinderella with such glee that I feel a cold shiver run up my spine!

"Pauline, you have been denied the money left to you by this court, quite rightly in my opinion. Now Mr Cox has given you a second chance at a large sum of money when he dies, again I don't think you deserve such kindness," the judge gestures at Mr Cox stopping him from lowering Pauline's skirt hem, "as I say, you are inappropriately dressed for my court."

"Forgive me Your Worship. I do so under Mr Cox's instruction Your Worship."

The judge looks back to the old law book.

"By order of the law made in 1698, I grant the wedding and ownership to Mr Albert Cox to take place the day after your marriage to Mr Stone is decreed absolute. Further more, I will indeed walk you down the aisle, after a night of you doing my bidding."

She looks ahead, again with no emotion on her face, and what appears to be a glistening wetness in crotch of her tights. I'm left wondering whether I'm dreaming or not.

The judge turns to me and says, "Mr Harrington-Brown, you will sign as witness to the events of this day, as being fair and just. After which you will receive a payment from Mr Cox of £100. The payment is not a bribe, Mr Harrington Brown it is for your services on this day. I hereby announce this matter closed," he turns back to Pauline with a sickly smile on his face, "as for you Pauline, I look forward to our meeting again the day before your wedding, and your divorce my dear, can't come quickly enough!"

The gavel drops on the block for the last time.

50 years later.

Sylvia.

"Forgive me for staring at you during your mother's funeral last month. But you remind me so much of your grandmother."

"You knew my grandmother?"

"Yes, you and she were so much alike. She was a little taller than you, but raven haired too, pretty, and please forgive me, but I must say your legs are every inch as attractive as Pauline's."

"Okay now you're freaking me out."

He chuckles and tells me that wasn't his intention. He has a kind if old face, and full head of grey hair.

"Sorry, I don't mean to alarm you; I have a couple of boxes, well one really containing your grandmother's personal diaries. Your mother wouldn't take them, and told me to burn them, but I just couldn't."

"I never knew my grandmother. Mum said she died giving birth to her."

He shakes his head, "No my dear, your mother was sent away to live with an Irish husband and wife. Your grandmother wished that be the case for her own good. Your grandmother was protecting your mother, Helen, from everything that was wrong in your grandmother's life."

"Look, can you get to the point."

"Yes, but I need to tell you about a court case that happened back in 1969, first.

Two cups of tea, and an hour later, I'm sat here with my head in a spin. I have a thousand questions, but I don't know which one to ask first.

The box containing diaries my grandmother wrote, sits unopened on my living room floor.

"So did she, kill Mr Taylor?"

He smiles, "No, this letter," he says producing it from his inside jacket pocket, "contains a confession."

"Which you handed to the police I assume?"

"No, it only came to light after a number of years, and the harm it would have done to your grandmother at that time, well, it would have done a lot of damage. I'm giving this to you, because I don't know how much longer I've got on this earth. What you do with it is up to you."

"So you are thee Mr Spratt, who tried to get my grandmother the money in court?"

"Yes, I am he. It was my first big case, and I was far too inexperienced for something so big. Stupidly we relied on the love your grandmother had for Mr Taylor more than anything else. It didn't work."

"I see, but what about her and Mr Cox?"

"I tried to convince her several times that she could get a divorce, but she wouldn't hear of it. She never loved him. Her diaries are full of explicit details of her sex life. Eventually she makes references to enjoying what Mr Cox made her do."

"My god, it's all in there?" I ask pointing to the box.

"Yes. I can see a lot more of your grandmother in you. More than you know. The two young men who left upon my arrival, were talking about you as, forgive me, as a gagging for it tart. I heard one say you lived up to your reputation."

"Look I like sex, and..."

"Please you don't need to explain," he grins, "as I said you are a lot like your grandmother, and I'm quite aware of your recent past."

I open the letter, and he sits back sipping his tea and lets me read it.

Dear Mr Spratt,

When you read this I'll be dead, and wish that God will forgive me for my sins. Mrs Stone, who now is Mrs Cox, did not bring about Mr Taylor's death. It was in fact me who pushed the pills down his throat, and proceeded to provide Mr Taylor with the extra stimulation, using Pauline's orange panties, which she had left draped over Mr Taylor's appendage that night.

You were right in what you suggested in court on that day that I was under instruction to find an, opportunity, to bring about Mr Taylor's death. The instruction was not from Ms Edith Taylor, Mr Taylor's daughter, and yes my former lover, but from Albert Cox. Mr Cox wanted Mr Taylor out of the way, so he could carry on his sexual perversions with Mrs Stone. I don't think he ever expected he would be as lucky as to marry Pauline.

Mr Cox and I knew each other, do you remember me telling the court. "I witnessed them getting on the train together?" I told the court, Albert Cox was known to me, and I feared I would be questioned further, but neither you nor Mr Harrington-Brown did as such.

Mr Cox and I were childhood friends, and it was he who gave me the financial backing to start the Glory Care Home. He saw Pauline there not long after she started, but she didn't see him. He told me she was renting one of his houses. I could see the look in his eye, and I knew he wanted her.

There are people who would seek out this confession, namely the Taylor's family. The suspicions you put forward in the court that day, about my involvement, was taken up some years later by the Edith Taylor's son, who she put up for adoption the minute he was born. He has contacted me several times, and has the evil temperament to more than match his mother.

I thank you for not opening this letter until my death.

Ms Annabelle Appleby.

"I've had that letter since 1975. I was told by Ms Appleby it was a will, and not to be opened until she died. She died 3 years later in a car accident, her brakes had been cut, and her house had been ransacked that very same day. Of course by this time your grandmother seemed happy with life, and her diaries back that up. I was torn between telling her the awful truth, and letting her live her life unaware that her husband, Mr Cox, has set Mr Taylor's death in motion.

He pulls out an envelope for his jacket pocket.

"A house she lived in has now been left to you and your sister, but it isn't just any house."

I take a deep breath and think for a moment, as he drops the deeds to the house on the coffee table.

"I'll talk to my sister about the house, but I don't know what to do with the letter of confession. This isn't fair putting it on me."

"I know, I can take it away and destroy it, if you wish. I suggest you put in at the back of her last diary, and read them all first, it might help you reach a decision?"

I nod, still not really sure what to do.

"What happened to Mr Stone and my grandmother's half sister, Gloria?

"Your Grandmother took Mr Cox round there after the judge granted Mr Cox permission to marry her. Mr Cox gave Mr Stone the house and £5,000 in cash to secure the divorce."

"Mr Cox bought her you mean, god that's ironic."

"Yes, you could look at it that way. Mr Stone drank to the eyeballs and did lots of drugs. He died of a drug overdose in 1973; three months after Gloria had left him."

"She took all the money?"

"No, but that's why she left him, the money had run out. She died a few years ago. Now, let me know about that confession. I'll happily come with you to the police station. A few more weeks delay won't make any difference."

He looks at me and takes another deep breath, "There is one more thing, Miss Smith you'll find as you read your grandmother's diaries, left the care home and ran a brothel. A brothel which was in a building owned by Albert Cox, which as it turns out is the house you and your sister have inherited. Your grandmother knew about it being a brothel, and part of it burnt down, and Miss Smith was inside and died. A few months later it reopened, and your grandmother ran it. It was very popular and catered for all types, men, women, and the rich and the famous. Even the judge who had your grandmother married to Cox visited."

My eyes are opening as wide as my mouth. My grandmother was a Madam!

"Your mother found out when she was in her 20's. I think that was one of many facts that your mother couldn't handle."

"Mum was a little like that."

"Try as I did, to persuade your grandmother not to go into this brothel venture, she did. I even ended up being seduced into handling the legal side for her. Back then brothels were frowned upon, but with so many influential people using it, it would never be shut down. It flourished under Pauline, even Mr Cox was impressed."

"What about the fire, how did it start?"

He shifts uneasily in his chair.

"When the police told Mr Cox about the fire, it was much like the fire in the care home, caused by a cigarette. Sandra Smith was the only person in the place that night. By chance, or design, the girls who worked there were given the night off. I get the impression the police were told to back off. A little while before the fire there was talk of photos of two senior members of parliament, and the retired judge who dealt with your grandmother's case in the brothel."

"So do you think it was murder, arson or whatever?"

"Sylvia, I'm convinced of it. Mr Cox was having regular sex with Miss Smith. There is an entry in your grandmother's diary, but I'll let you read that for yourself. I tried talking to your mother several times about the brothel, but she just slammed to door in my face or hung up on my phone calls. And now she has passed away, the brothel belongs to you and your sister."