A Loveless Marriage

Chapter 19: Fred

The pain was like an axe inside my head and my mouth was dry and sticky. The coldness hit first, then a wave of nausea and then the ache of my body against the hard mattress. I felt wretched indeed, I reached for the bell to call my valet but could not find it. I opened one eye, I was not at home, cautiously I opened the other, I winced as pale light stabbed in my skull. I swore loudly when I saw where I was; a prison cell. I rubbed my temples tenderly and tried to piece together the fragments of the night before.

It had been my third night in London, I had quickly grown bored in the countryside without Mary to tease and the Capital had beckoned with all her salacious delights. I'd sought male companionship, not wanting to succumb to the temptations of the fairer sex, at least not until I had exhausted all possibilities of seducing my own wife. The night before I had gone to my club, delighted to share some sherry with two fellow rogues, Phipps and Glanton. They were the perfect companions to spend some time with, always up for a modicum of mischief but too afraid of beautiful women to lead me in the path of desire. I didn't want to put my new resolution to be faithful to the test right now.

I was pulled into the present by a familiar voice groaning for an aspirin.

"Phipps, is that you?" I asked huskily.

"I think so," he said shakily. "Although the way I feel, it could just be my reanimated corpse."

It gave me grim satisfaction that I was not the only one of us hungover in a police cell. I sat up and immediately regretted it.

"Oh Lord, what did we do?" I asked.

"Don't you remember our midnight serenade in Trafalgar Square?"

Vague memories of dancing in the fountain, whilst singing love songs in Italian made its way through the fog in my brain. Arrested for being drunk and disorderly, it was hardly the crime of the century.

"I told that copper he looked like a boiled ham," Phipps said proudly. "Then he pinched us."

With great effort, I pulled out my pocket watch and looked at the hands. Mary's train would be pulling into Paddington station in less than an hour, I hoped the staff would have the sense to keep their mouths closed. I sank back into my pillowless bed with disappointment, it was hardly the warm welcome I had planned for her. I had started with good intentions, but the road to hell was paved with good intentions and this hangover certainly was hell. I tried to doze before I faced the bench but it did not seem like long before I heard the jangle of keys in the cell door.

"Right Wilkes, time for you to be up in front of the Beak," said my red-faced jailor.

It took a moment to realise that I had used my real name, rather than the alias I used when in similar circumstances. I really must have been drunk. There was no keeping my name out the paper now, I would just have to see the Morning Gazette did not reach Mary when I got home. Hastily, I smoothed my hair and attempted to straighten up my clothes but I knew I did not look remotely presentable.

The grumpy old Beak took a stern delight in recounting the misdeeds of the night before. When the arresting officer read out the insults I had hurled at him the night before, it seemed that I had been rather witty and creative, which caused much laughter in the gallery of onlookers. I enjoyed their appreciation, my behaviour had been rude and foolish but hardly merited the pomposity of the Magistrates court.

"Mr Wilkes, it seems that you are rather enjoying this moment."

"No, your honour but they are," I replied, turning round to indicate the crowd in the rows behind me.

Howls of laughter erupted punctuated by the sharp rap of the Beak's gavel. I looked at my audience, every face amused except one. My heart sank. Mary. I stood fixed, looking at her calm face as inside me all emotions raged. There was no hiding it now. I looked down at my shoes, contrite as the Magistrate brought order to the Court.