Silence Is Golden (Storm and Silence 3)

‘No, we weren’t!’

‘Oh, um, I see. Well, in any case, I’m afraid that - mind you, the light wasn’t very good, and I wasn’t looking closely - from where I stood, it, um, looked like…like Lilly won.’

Patsy nailed her to the bench with the deadliest of deadly stares for a few moments. Flora quailed, but didn’t lower her eyes, which I thought was an enormous achievement.

‘Admit it!’ My grin was broad enough to split my face. ‘You lost!’

There was a long moment of silence, then: ‘Fine! Yes! I lost! But only because that policeman pulled me off my bicycle first.’

I conceded with a gracious nod. ‘I bet he wished he hadn’t when you landed on top of him.’

Patsy barked a laugh. ‘Oh yes, he did!’

We lapsed into silence again, but this time it was utterly companionable. The clickety-clickety-click of Eve’s knitting needles still sounded in the background, and to my satisfaction I noticed it was slowly driving the bailiff insane.

‘So,’ I mused. ‘What do you think I’ll get?’

‘Hey, we didn’t agree on a prize for the winner! It was just for the fun of it.’

‘I’m not talking about the race, stupid! I’m talking about my sentence!’

‘Oh.’

‘Do you think we’ll all get the same?’

‘Impossible!’ Patsy declared. ‘I have a much more impressive record than you! No matter what you get, I’ll get at least twice as long.’

‘Long?’ Flora’s eyes went wide. ‘What do you mean, long? Surely, you don’t mean….’

‘Yes,’ Patsy confirmed with grim relish. ‘I do.’

‘No! Surely they’re just going to give us a fine.’

‘Are you kidding?’ Patsy laughed. ‘They have to set an example against independent women like us, or their whole chauvinistic system will collapse! It’s chokey[1] for us, ladies. At least a week. Maybe even two.’

Flora nearly fell off the bench. Even Eve stopped knitting and looked up.

‘Two weeks? They’re going to throw us into jail for two weeks?’

‘Oh God!’ Covering her mouth with both her hands, Flora did her best to try and vanish into thin air. When that didn’t work, she curled herself up into as small a ball as possible and hid her face behind her hands. ‘I don’t want to go to jail! It’ll be dirty in there, and cold! And they have rogues and thieves and cutthroats everywhere!’

‘Are we really?’ Leaning forward, Eve grabbed Patsy and me, drawing us closer. ‘You two were listening to what the stuffy old tomcat with the gavel was saying! Are we really going to go to jail?’

‘Don’t worry.’ Seeing the fear in Eve’s eyes, I patted her hand. ‘I’m sure they don’t put girls in the same cells as dangerous criminals.’

‘I’m not worried about that.’ Eve waved away dismissively the idea of being stuck in a cell with a rapist or murderer. ‘Don’t you understand? If we get thrown into jail, we won’t be able to attend the Royal Wedding on Monday!’

I rolled my eyes.

‘Oh, of course. The Royal Wedding. How could I forget?’

It was a legitimate question, considering that Eve - and, in fact, most of the city of London - had been talking about nothing else for the last three months.

‘Wedding - bah!’ Pat

sy snorted. ‘It’s disgraceful! We have a woman at the head of the nation for the first time in how many hundred years, and what’s the first thing she does after ascending to the throne? She gets herself a man! Pathetic!’

She looked at me for confirmation.