It was chaos in Parliament Square. There were people everywhere; women shouting, crying, screaming.
‘Where are we heading?’ I said, trying to see through the crowds to the Houses of Parliament.
‘St Stephen’s.’ Nelly gestured with her placard. ‘They shut the gates and women were climbing them.’
She sounded proud and I wasn’t surprised. The resilience of the women I called my friends never stopped impressing me.
‘Did they get through?’
‘Police grabbed them first.’
Minnie stood on her tiptoes to see better. ‘They’re still going,’ she said in delight. ‘I can see people trying to get over.’
Agnes was watching the crowds in front of us. ‘I think if we can go round the back here, we can skirt the edge of the grass,’ she said. ‘I can see a route where there are fewer people.’
I looked where she was pointing and nodded in agreement. But I was still worried about the crush of bodies, because brave as she was, Agnes had a baby to think about.
‘Agnes, you go in the middle of us,’ I said. ‘We’ll shield you.’
She nodded, grateful. ‘Thank you.’
We arranged ourselves with me in front of Agnes, and Minnie and Nelly either side, and with our heads up and our shoulders back, I led the way round to the right of where we stood towards the huge black gates of Parliament.
We walked confidently, but cautiously, because around us were scenes of sheer horror. I saw one woman dragged along the ground by two policemen. Her legs were kicking but they were much stronger than she. They left her in a heap on the grass, like an old piece of rubbish, and she lay there for a moment.
‘Should we help her?’ I said to Minnie, but as I spoke, the woman stood up – shakily – and started towards the gates once more.
‘Let’s just keep going,’ Minnie said. She looked pale in the wintry sunshine and I knew the fear I could see in her eyes was reflected in my own. ‘We just need to get to the gate.’
But as we started to walk again, a large policeman barred our way. He didn’t speak but he grabbed the placards we were holding. Mine had a rough edge that cut into my hand as he yanked it and I cried out in pain. The policeman threw the placards on the ground and snapped them, standing on one end and pulling up the handles. As he snapped mine, the jagged edge cut his hand too and he cried out in pain – and anger – as I’d done.
Another policeman stopped to see what was happening. ‘Did they do that?’ he said.
The first man nodded. ‘Slashed me.’
‘Oh rubbish, you caught your hand on our placard,’ I said. ‘I did the same thing.’
The first policeman didn’t speak; instead he just pulled my arm.
‘Search her,’ he said, pushing me towards the other man. ‘She must have a knife.’
‘I don’t have a knife, don’t be ridiculous.’
He started to pat me down, though it was less patting and more grabbing. His hands seemed to be all over me, clutching at my breasts. I squirmed away and he shouted at me to stay still, so I did. I wanted to cry as his thick fingers probed under my skirts but I kept my head up, trying not to flinch as he pushed his hand in between my legs. My cheeks flushed with humiliation, and I tried not to think about what he was doing.
‘She’s got nothing,’ he called, slowly removing his hand.
I stared him right in the eyes, meeting his gaze with defiance, though my inner thighs felt bruised from his assault.
‘As I told you.’
He shoved me back towards the group. ‘Go home,’ he said in a mocking tone. ‘Ladies.’
We stayed where we were, still and watchful, as he and the first policeman continued on their way, laughing with each other, and then I took a deep breath.
‘Are you all right?’ Minnie asked, her brow furrowed.
I nodded. ‘Let’s keep going.’
We stepped over the broken remains of our placards and carried on towards the gates. As we drew nearer, it seemed things were getting more out of hand. Women were being pulled from the gates, but instead of being arrested as you’d expect, they were being thrown back to the crowds that had gathered, just as Nelly had said.
‘See?’
‘I do see,’ Agnes said. ‘I do.’
‘Agnes,’ I said urgently. ‘I know you are bold but I really think it’s time for you to go back. Take yourself to safety.’
Minnie nodded.
‘She’s right, Agnes. This is no place for a pregnant woman.’
Agnes looked up at the women being grabbed from the gates and slowly she nodded too.
‘I think you’re speaking sense,’ she said. ‘I’ll go back to Caxton Hall and wait for you there.’
I put my hand on Nelly’s shoulder. ‘Would you go with her?’ I asked. ‘I think you need a sit-down too and probably someone should have a look at your injuries.’
Nelly’s face was turning purple on one side, her eye was almost swollen shut and she was swaying slightly.
‘I suppose,’ she said. ‘Come on, Agnes.’
She offered her arm to Agnes, but as she did, a man in a smart suit and woollen overcoat walked by and without warning, kicked out at Nelly. He took her legs from under her and she crashed to the ground, taking him with her, which he’d obviously not intended to happen. He looked shocked to be sprawled on the pavement and he glared at Nelly.
‘Officer!’ he shouted. ‘This woman attacked me.’
At once, we were surrounded by three or four policemen, all bellowing at us. I was filled with fury – and frustration – as I tried to explain what had happened. But they weren’t listening. One grabbed Minnie by the shoulders as she was trying to help Nelly up, and held her arms behind her back, rendering her helpless. Another gave poor Nelly a whack with his truncheon simply for raising her head, and she slumped back on the ground, looking frighteningly limp. The man who’d tripped her was back on his feet, and he gave her another strike with his foot for good measure.
‘Stop!’ I screamed.
Agnes, who was closer to Nelly than I was, turned on the nearest policeman in anger.
‘What are you doing?’ she shouted into his face, standing on her toes so she could better match his height. ‘How dare you? She’s just a girl and she’s done nothing wrong.’
And that’s when it happened. The policeman, not wanting Agnes so close to him, gave her a huge shove. She stepped backwards but tripped over the kerb and landed on the road on her side.
‘Agnes,’ I screamed. ‘Help her. She’s pregnant.’
But the policeman with the truncheon was angry, and as Agnes started to get up, he whacked her on the head, once, twice, and she fell back down.
I tried to get past him but his back was so broad and the crowd so suffocating, I couldn’t get to Agnes. Instead I pulled at his arm, wanting him to stop hitting her.
‘She’s pregnant,’ I shouted. ‘She’s pregnant, you idiot.’
He looked round at me, and I recognised him – again. Once more I was in a struggle with Joseph’s friend, Alf. He didn’t know me; that was obvious. He just tried to shake me off his arm.
‘Alf,’ I said, hoping to get through to him, to make him stop. ‘It’s me, Esther. We met in the park?’
He didn’t hear – or didn’t listen – as he kicked Agnes in the small of her back and sent her sprawling on the pavement once more – right on to her round belly. She made a horrible sound, a wail of sheer despair, and I felt a rush of blinding fury rise up inside me. What had Alf done?
Making an animal-like roar, I used all my strength to pull Alf’s arm back and he dropped his truncheon.
Quick as a flash, I bent and picked it up. Its handle was warm, and the weight of the weapon soothed me. I looped the leather strap round my wrist, held on tight and raised the truncheon above my head, then I brought it down with all my might, on to Alf’s face as he looked round at me.
There was a crunch as the truncheon met his nose and I watched in satisfaction as blood splattered across his face.
‘Esther,’ Minnie shouted, but it sounded as though she was a long, long way away as I raised the truncheon again and once more brought it down on to Alf’s head. He swore at me, trying to shield himself from my blows.
‘I told you she was pregnant,’ I said, as I hit him over and over. ‘I told you, but you attacked her anyway. Her baby’s blood is on your hands.’
‘Get her off me,’ he shouted at his colleagues. ‘She’s a bloody madwoman. Get her off me.’
I kept hitting him, wildly lashing out, until someone grabbed my arms from behind and twisted my wrist. I felt the bones crunch, agonisingly, and I dropped the truncheon as I cried out.
‘Oh, you’re in big, big, trouble, Miss,’ said a voice behind me. ‘Big, bloody trouble.’
Roughly, I was pulled round to face the man holding me. And there, looking down at me, with an ugly sneer on his face, was Joseph.