Chapter 1 - Escape

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On the 14th of November, 1913, Arthur George Dawlings was going home for the weekend to visit his sister in Hertford. It was a Friday evening, rather chilly with a cool wind billowing through the cold grey streets of North London. It didn't need saying that Arthur was excited to go home for the first time in months, as he had been swamped with work for a while now. Arthur was a first class financial lawyer who lived and worked in central London, and due to his busy work, had little time to go home and see his family. It was 6:25 pm and as he passed through the streets he could see people going out to the local pubs and fancy clubs for a good Friday night.

Arthur's driver, a man he had met that evening, seemed a be a quiet man, which wasn't quite Arthur's style. He had tried to strike up a conversation with the man a few times but had given up at this point.

"It's cold, isn't it?" Arthur said as he wrapped his hands into his large fur-lined black coat.

His driver neglected to reply. It was obvious that he would much rather be with these people on the pavement, waiting to get into the exclusive clubs or drinking in the pubs. As Arthur looked out of the window, he almost despised the Londoners who thought that a good time was drinking with their friends and socialising in beer houses, brothels and clubs. What was the point in that? Arthur thought, staring out through the condensated back door window. Surely, he wondered, there was no point in staying out in the cold on a November weekend, blowing the week's hard-earned money on something that wasn't good for you. Arthur felt slight resentment for the city that he had been bound to since he started his new job. It trapped him, restrained him – he was happy to be leaving.

At least he was going home, Arthur relaxed back into his leather chair and blew into his fingers, at least he was going to see his sister and stay in her comfortable 11 bedroom estate house. That certainly beat the one bedroom apartment that he had been living in for the last few months. The apartment was convenient, as it was directly opposite the courthouse, but even still, it was a cramped place with only one bathroom. It was only a 2 hour journey from now. He would be home in no time.

He was just about to drift off to sleep in the back of the car, dream away the journey so that he would be more awake when he arrived home when the car screeched to a sudden halt. It had stopped so quickly, that the vehicle skidded perpendicular to the road. This triggered a sudden traffic jam and about three vehicles honked their horns abruptly. Arthur was thrown against the side of the car, his head hitting the window, hard.

"Ow!" He exclaimed, angrily. He was too angry to throw his hands up to his head in pain, and he just clambered forward to the car to see the driver pale with fear and pointing out to the road. As a matter of fact, they had stopped right in front of the district prison. Large, concrete walls towered above them with barbed wire and metal fence posts over the top. Above the gates in the centre of the wall which stood as the entrance and exit, there was a group of men stood in the concrete watch tower, pointing their rifles down at the road. "Good grief!" Arthur exclaimed as he watched the men shoot down at the road. He followed the aim of the guards and that was when he saw what the driver had been pointing at. In the centre of the cobbled street, there was a woman, standing at a dramatic stance behind another car that had come to a halt. She held a police rifle herself, and was shooting at the men in the watch tower.

Arthur watched as one of her bullets hit someone in the arm. It all happened so quickly, he heard the bang concurrently with seeing one of the rifles fall from the watch tower, disarming the guard in question. The woman in question was quite something. She was like a monster or a terrifying beast from a fairy tale. She was barefoot, except she was wearing a long grey dress that Arthur knew was one of the uniforms for the convicts inside the prison.

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