The Caged Pride

Chapter five

The police station wasn't something to be proud of for any resident of Mossley. Either the town did not suffer a high crime rate or the local MP couldn't be bothered, George concluded. The walls were stained with things George didn't want to know the source of. There was one cell by the corner which was rusted and creaky. Which now housed his father. He had arrived half an hour earlier but could get no information on the arrest from the short-staffed police station.

George wasn't used to this. He never faced any trouble in the stations in London. The superintendent was a grumpy man, George could tell. This was bad news again because he could definitely not be of any use to George. This was beginning to get embarrassing for the editor-in-chief of the Daily Mirror. He couldn't help but wonder if he was beginning to lose his touch.

He decided to make an attempt with the superintendent, but this time revealed that he was with the Daily Mirror. Surely that would mean something.

"Excuse me", George said to grab the superintendent's attention.

"I'm with the Daily Mirror, George Herriot", He explained as he held his hand out.

"Ahh tis Garry's son eh?", said the superintendent who was simply returning the handshake as a courtesy.

"Listen I know what you want, but all I can tell you, for now, is he's been charged with sodomy and gross indecency. I need to rush now" and he left the room leaving Geroge alone there with the constable who was guarding the cell with specific instructions not to allow any contact for Garreth with anyone who isn't a lawyer.

A worn-out George went back to his seat near the entrance of the station. Sodomy. His father was charged with sodomy. Was it with his mother or another woman? While cheating was looked down at, it was quite common in Mossley. Husbands stayed late at the office with the excuse of overtime, often went home with their assistants or customers, and wives going out on the pretext of church or grocery shopping, went to motels with strange men.

He buried his head in his hands and his stomach sank as soon as he realized he'd have to stay in Mossley for more than four days. This wasn't the plan, he was to attend the funeral, probably read his mother's will, cook a meal for his father and leave on the third night. His first thought was to write to Alf, letting him know that he would be stuck here for a while, and wanted Alf to send his work back home, that way he could stay distracted.

He got off the seat and walked around in the only police station in Mossley. In came Father Crosby, who looked at him with pity. He'd discovered his mom's death, the denial of the burial of her body, and his father being arrested in front of at least half the town.

"George, my child, I got here as fast as I could. How is he doing?", he looked tired from all the walking and sat down on the bench.

"I'm not really sure how to answer that father, hopefully, he'll be out soon", George had lied. His father was probably looking at life imprisonment and if it were to the police at this station he would be hanged by tomorrow morning.

"Let me speak to the superintendent, I'm sure I can talk him out of charging him with his crime", the father was right, he was an influential man, and him being the 'connect' between the folk of Mossley and God, made the people treat him with more respect.

"Father, as much as I would appreciate that, I need to handle this on my own", he forced a smile and walked into the station for the second time that morning. The superintendent stood next to his secretary, clearly occupied with something else other than his work. He took one look at George and huffed twice.

"Listen up kid, your father's not getting out anytime soon, hire a lawyer, pay the judge, do anything, he is not going to be spared, at least by me", he smirked at George.

George was filled with anger. He was never close to his father, he looked down upon how he treated his mother and hated what he had done which could be the possible reason for his mom's death.

But he needed answers.

Not just for his chargers, he needed answers for where he had been his entire life. Why had he married his mother, when it was clear as daylight that he did not love her?

George saw flashes of red and green as he went on to attack the officer in front of him. The superintendent fell on his back and before George could do any more damage, he was pulled back by someone. He composed himself, ready to shout at the person who had held him back from beating the officer.

He was hoping for an officer, sweating into their uniform instead he discovered a woman. Now he wasn't one to judge, but by the looks of it, he had already concluded that this woman in front of him wasn't raised like a lady.

He had dealt with a fair share of ladies in Mossley and London and all of them seemed to have one thing in common. Skirts and dresses. He was used to seeing women in floral skirts and dresses, with pearls on their necks and a bow on the side of their heads. The trousers which covered her entire legs were the first thing he'd observed about her.

The father walked in due to all the commotion and requested to talk to the superintendent in private. They went into his office and their talk lasted for ten minutes after which the father clearly looked angry.

"Please don't step into my church ever again", his voice firm and loud.

George tried to follow the father, but immediately stopped in his tracks when he saw James Elliot making his way down the street. James' panicked face turned to a sad smile as he spotted George.

George and James had been the closest friends in high school, resulting in him being close to his mother. James had stayed back in Mossley and worked in a plumbing store, selling taps and helping repair leaks in houses.

"I'm so sorry for your loss. I got here as fast as I could", James pulled George into a hug. They embraced each other for a while, before being interrupted by the lady in the trousers.

"What made you think you could get away with attacking the superintendent?", she furiously rushed towards George.

"You attacked him?"James turned towards George and back to the lady, "Oh piss off Lillian, he's having a hard time". George calmed down, realizing that the lady was right. All a fight would do is hurt his father's case.

"Let's just head down to Brent's down the road and grab a coffee and decide where to go from here. We aren't going to get any more information until the trial from these lot", suggested James.

"I'll have to pass on that. I'm here to cover a story.", said Lillian. George looked at the woman with newfound respect but also a touch of surprise.

"The case of old Garry?", asked James

"That's the one", Lillian said as she returned George's stare with a curious look.

"You're looking at his son right here", James said.

"George, this is Lillian. Lillian, George", he said as he introduced the two and they shook hands.

"It's a pleasure miss but I won't be talking to the press right now though, I'm sorry", said George addressing Lillian.

"You know I could help you too with the information you need", said Lillian "It's fair trade and I won't publish anything that would hurt your father's case. We're all just trying to understand and make some sense of this case"

George thought about this for a while. Speaking to the press in London about anything was always a big mistake and would almost always hurt the case. But in a small town like this, he could certainly use local help. Lillian seemed sincere enough about her promise.

"You really have a say over what gets published?", asked George.

"You're looking at the editor of Mossley Times, George", said James with excitement.

George was slightly taken aback by the notion of a woman being at the head of a newspaper. "You? This isn't a joke is it?", asked George with a condescending tone.

"Do you have a problem with that? I don't exactly see people queueing up offering to help you with the case", retracted Lillian. She wasn't one to take the insults from men and the town knew this.

George was surprised by her answer but quickly understood it wouldn't help to throw away the offer. "Of course not. That's quite alright, lets's get that cup of coffee then"