‘Votes for women now! Here, educate your mind, Sir. Take this leaflet! Broaden your horizons, madam. Do you really think you are unfit to make decisions that men can make? Here, take a look at our pamphlet.’
They had now started handing out flyers among the crowd. I had never even known they had prepared any! That served me right. I had been so caught up in Ella’s problems and my work for Mr Ambrose that I had totally neglected my friends. And the worst thing was: I couldn’t even tell them why!
‘This is outrageous!’
Mr Cartwright had appeared at our side. The portly man, who had looked so friendly just a moment ago, was glaring at Patsy with an intensity I hadn’t thought him capable of. ‘How dare this lady interrupt our event! Oh, what am I saying? Female, not lady! You cannot with a clear conscience call such a wanton creature a lady!’
Mr Ambrose nodded. ‘I agree.’
‘What do you think, Mr Ambrose? Should I have her removed?’
Without meaning to, I shook my head. Have Patsy removed? ‘I don't think that would be a good idea.’
‘Bad press, you mean, manhandling a woman?’ Mr Cartwright snorted. ‘Unfortunately, you’re probably right, Mr Linton.’
It wasn’t easy to suppress my smile. That wasn’t what I had been thinking of, actually. Patsy had her parasol with her. If some men attempted to ‘remove’ her, I wouldn’t like to be in those men’s shoes.
Hm… why not let them try?
‘Miss! Mind your manners!’ Professor Anstruther waved imperiously at Patsy and rustled with his scholarly papers. ‘Surely you do not intend to disturb my speech?’
‘Oh yes, that’s exactly what I intend! Votes, ladies and gentlemen, votes for women!’
‘I beg your pardon?’ The professor was turning red in the face. He sounded as if he wished a quick disappearance from Patsy, rather than her pardon. ‘It is the right of every Englishman to freely speak his mind on Speaker’s Corner! How dare you interrupt me?’
‘Oh, you can talk as much as you want,’ Patsy agreed, not stopping with the flyer distribution or even bothering to look up. ‘That doesn't mean, though, that I can’t talk back to you. Votes for women, ladies and gentlemen! For equality between the sexes and a bright future for Britain!’
‘The head circumference of the chimpanzee…’ Professor Anstruther continued, raising his voice - but to no avail. Patsy raised her voice, too, to heights he couldn’t hope to reach.
‘A bright future,’ she called, ‘where no women will be pestered to shave their heads without good cause!’
There were snickers from the crowd, and a few of the ladies present surreptitiously grabbed one of the flyers, studying with interest.
‘…circus dance… no, circumference, I beg your pardon, lords, ladies and gentlemen, circumference, of course… yes, the head circumference of the chimpanzee is similar to that of females from the age of…’
‘Women contribute to life in Great Britain just as much as men do,’ Patsy proclaimed. ‘Why should they not have the same rights? Read the pamphlet, make up your own mind.’
‘…the age of seven is equal to the male head circus tents, as my thesis has proven and… Blast it!’
Professor Anstruther had dropped his notes and was now on his knees, trying to salvage as much of his marvel of anthropological science as he possible could. All that remained of his speech against suffragism were a few very unscholarly curses.
‘A disaster! A downright disaster!’ Mr Cartwright was wringing his hands now, and it was a joy to see. ‘Mr Firth, the next speaker, is supposed to arrive in only half an hour! What am I supposed to do? Curse these infernal suffragists!’
It was becoming increasingly difficult to keep a sombre and worried expression on my face. All I wanted to do was run to Patsy, hug her and congratulate her on her glorious victory against the masculine forces of evil! It took all my willpower to stay still and pull the corners of my mouth down.
‘Are you having facial cramps, Mr Linton?’ Mr Ambrose enquired out of the corner of his mouth.
‘No, Sir. I’m just enjoying myself.’
‘Is that so, Mr Linton?’
‘Yes, it is, Mr Ambrose.’
‘Well, let us see what we can do to change that.’
With two swift motions, Mr Ambrose removed his gloves and his top hat. Then he handed both, along with his cane, to Mr Cartwright, who took it all, too surprised at being treated like a common footman to refuse.
‘Hold these for me, will you?’ Mr Ambrose flexed his fingers. Suddenly, I felt a cold pit opening up in my stomach. No. Oh no. ‘I have work to do.’
He strode towards the front of the podium, shoved the kneeling Professor Anstruther aside none too gently and built himself in front of the crowd. Shouldn’t I have said planted himself? No, he was too hard, too cold for a plant. He built himself like a monument of stone and metal.
I watched, dread welling up inside me, as the crowd whispered excitedly, my friends stopped moving and all eyes went to him. Especially the female ones.
Mr Ambrose took a deep breath and opened his lips to speak.
Memorable Speeches
‘Silence.’
The word wasn’t shouted. It wasn’t even loud. It was simply spoken with such chilling precision, with such power behind it, that all went silent instantly. The crowd, the birds, the other speakers in the distance, even - I could hardly believe it - Patsy closed her mouth and stared up at Mr Rikkard Ambrose. When she took in his six foot six of poor, hard masculinity, she nearly dropped her sign, and for a moment, 'VOTES FOR WOMEN NOW!' was upside down.
Placing his hands on the balustrade, Mr Ambrose leaned forward, towering over the crowd.
‘My lords, ladies, gentlemen.’ He gave a curt nod. ‘I do not pretend to be as well-versed in scientific knowledge as our friend the professor here.’ With a derisive movement of his head, he gestured to his red-faced predecessor on the podium, who was backing away now, the remnants of his speech clutched against his chest. ‘I am no scientist. I am just a simple entrepreneur who has made it his business to own as large a portion of the world as possible.’
Chuckles rose up from the crowd. They thought he was cracking a joke. I knew better.
‘My name,’ he continued, cutting through the chuckles like a sword through silk, ‘is Mister Rikkard Ambrose.’
The chuckles died abruptly. Eyes widened, mouths dropped open. Some people took a step backward. Aghast, I watched as he transformed the crowd. It was obvious he was far better known and his wealth far more legendary than I had imagined. They all knew of him. He had hardly had to say a word, and already he had them in his hands. A mountain of money combined with his magnetic and menacing presence was all that was needed.
‘So far,’ he told his loyal audience when he was sure his words had taken their full effect, ‘I have met with not inconsiderable success in this venture to enlarge my power. And that is what I am going to talk to you about today, my lords, ladies and gentlemen: success and power. Trust me, I am an expert on the subject.’
He let his cold gaze wander across the crowd, at last fixing it on Patsy as if daring her to contradict this. She did not.
‘I would be the last one to deny, my lords, ladies and gentlemen, that if women and men were equal, they would deserve equal rights.’
There were gasps from the crowd. Patsy grinned.
Abruptly, he held up a single finger. ‘However…’
Her grin vanished.
‘However, this is not the case. Women are weaker than men.’
My hands, which had relaxed a little up to this point, formed fists again. They ached to find a target to practise on, and the lean, black-clad man at the front of the podium looked deliciously tempting. His cold, gorgeous face seemed to be downright begging to be punched!
‘Wonderful,’ that slug, Cartwright, murmured beside me. ‘See how he commands the audience? Simply wonderful! Did you know your employer was such an accomplished orator, Mr Linton?’
‘No,’ I managed to get out between my grinding teeth. ‘Usually he’s rather terse. This seems to be… a special occasion.’