WARNING: Content some may find offensive! Chapter 36 gives some gruesome details about child molestation.
My Darling Love
Chapter 36 – Checkmate
"Nobody speaks the truth when there is something they must have."
-Elizabeth Bowen
Chess is the game of gentlemen.
The point of chess is simple. A player moves their pieces around so that no matter where their opposition moves their king, it will eventually get captured. It's all about capturing the king. And strategy is the most important part of the game. The ability to see the moves before they are played out, and the skill to anticipate what the opposition has planned before they know themselves are vital to a successful outcome.
In an attempt to win the game of chess, the queen becomes the most valuable piece. She can move as many spaces as she likes along a rank, file, or diagonal. Her entire purpose on the board is to defend her King. Now the king is similar to queen, but not the same, like all husbands, he is in no way as powerful as his wife. He can move in any direction, but only for one box. And if he is captured, the game is over. When the king is threatened, and on the verge of being defeated, this being a game of gentlemen, it's only polite to give a warning, and that warning is "check."
George Darling was now in check, and his only hope of not being captured, and the game of his life ending, lay in his wife, Mary, the Queen. The final move of the game neared; when the king cannot move nor be saved from capture, and the opposition would cry victoriously, "Checkmate." The next move, the most important in this game, was to keep George out of harm's way, and block him -- if necessary -- from being further ensnared into the web of lies and deceit spun so cunningly around him. And so, Mary's sole purpose on the morning when she awoke was to keep her king from checkmate.
Mary's first hint of trouble came that morning when she rolled over and found Wendy beside her. Even if George, being the gentleman that he was, still felt it honorable to sleep on the floor of Grandpa Joe's room as punishment, Wendy would be in her own room and not Mary's. She dressed quietly, then knocked on her father's door, finding not only George missing, but her father also. His bed was still made. The nursery was empty, for Michael remained on duty through the night, defending the castle by the front door. He was the first one to tell her what she had missed in her bliss.
"Right after you and father left, the constable came by and inquired after father. He spoke with Grandpa Joe for a very long time, and the conversation became rather loud and hostile. There were certain parts I think the neighbors down the street heard, but from what I can gather, Aunt Millicent and Margaret filed charges against father, saying he assaulted Margaret, sired her child, and then dumped them, Margaret and her baby both in Paris to get rid of them. Grandpa Joe was questioned about signing the papers, and he told the truth, but the Madam Caretaker from the orphanage wrote some sort of letter stating what Grandpa Joe told her originally when he signed over the baby. And Uncle Peter filed charges against father, too, for attempted murder and a rash of other charges. We had to tie Grandpa Joe back down in his chair last night in his fury. Uncle Harry went with father when he was taken away and Grandpa Joe and John left after they put you to bed. They also summoned an attorney for him. I heard the constable say Peter's wife will also testify and so will his mistress against father, as well as Aunt Millicent and Margaret. Mother, they are coming back to collect us for they say it is a danger for Wendy, John and me to remain at home with you! We are to be sent to Aunt Millicent's. The only reason they let us remain last night was because you were drunk and needed someone to look after you."
Mary sat on the sofa with an expression of disbelief. Being wife and mother, she was simply too scared to move. And then, as if turning on a switch from off to on, she rose quickly and, without her coat or hat, left the house. The queen -- or rather the wicked witch dressed in a queen's robe -- now took her place and began to move about the board in defense of the king. The only place she needed to go, she went, and it was her Aunt Millicent's house.
She knocked on the door and pushed past the butler when he answered, threatening him to tell no one of her presence, "I swear if you call the constable, I will have my father stop your salary and you will be out on the street with no good recommendation for your years of dedicated service to my Aunt. After all that woman, comfortably resting in her bed, has put you through, from dawn to dusk without one day off, consider my dealings here today against her and her daughter your bonus for Christmas."
The butler was not going to argue with her, nor would he call the constable, "I'll keep the other staff in the kitchen, Mrs. Darling," he replied and disappeared deep into the house, leaving Mary to her purpose. She ascended the stairs to the room that was once hers and yanked Margaret from her bed by her hair and held her mouth from screaming.
Mary held Margaret close and hissed in her ear, "Listen to me, you sinful and nasty liar, my husband saved you from a life of prostitution and abuse. He paid your father your weight in diamonds, without question, and freed you from the raping you received nightly from the man whose blood was the same as yours. If your sweet mother were alive, she would cut your tongue out of your mouth for all the mendacity you wreak on those she cared most about. My father was right about you, not one speck of Penny runs in you. You are all your father, you horrible, ungrateful wretch. I was with your mother when she died. I ached and cried for that woman, and I still to this day pray rosaries for her soul and the soul of your sibling who never saw daylight. My husband paid for her funeral, and then starved for a week after, because he had to use our grocery money to assure your mother's body and the innocent child she still held inside of her were not just dumped into a pauper's grave. You are a foul creature, unworthy of even the bathwater I washed your body in to rid you from the repulsive parasites that had sunk so deeply into your skin I had to burn them off. So if you think I will let you speak one untruth about my husband, a man who single handedly not only saved your life, but mine as well... My dear, I must warn you I will kill you right here on this spot where you lie."
Margaret at first fought, and then fell still. She was crying and clutched Mary's arm that was tight around her neck. "I will kill you, Margaret, every single promise I made to your mother on her deathbed I'll take back. I don't care if I burn in hell for all eternity, I will do whatever it takes to assure that my husband does not burn there with me. Tell me why you bear false witness against him."
Margaret shook her head and moved her hand over Mary's on her mouth. Mary released it just enough to let her speak, "I do not lie, your husband and I were lovers. He fathered my child..."
Her tone was rushed and Mary wasted no time in flipping Margaret to her back, amazing the poor girl with her surprising strength. Mary mounted Margaret's waist and began to choke her without mercy. She held her head up and banged it down hard on the polished wooden floor. Below the bedroom, the staff of Aunt Millicent's house raised their heads toward the ceiling, while lounging about drinking their tea. "Do you think that is Margaret's head or Millicent's?" a maid asked the butler.
"Margaret's." All present nodded in agreement and went back to there own leisures.
Back upstairs, Mary still held Margaret by the throat and now was in the processing of dragging her to the center of the room. "My husband would never lie down with something as spoiled and heinous as you."
Mary pulled Margaret up and held her, allowing her to breath. "I promised your mother as the last bit of her life was drained from her that no matter what kind of woman you became, if you ever sought me out and asked me for aid, I would do everything in my power to help you in your plight. Your mother is died in vain, and so does my promise." Mary forced her back down, and closed her hands firmly around the delicate skin that fell between Margaret's head and shoulders. "If you fight this death, I will suck the air out of your lungs myself, you disgusting little whore."
Margaret held Mary's arm, and as she readied to take her last breaths she began nodding to Mary with tears flooding down her face. There was no voice, just her mouth moving, "Please," repeated in silence over and over again.
Mary relinquished her grasp, but not before warning Margaret, in a tone that made Mary seem insane, "I have my knitting needles in my bag by your bedside table, if you waste one more moment of my time, and tell one more lie, I will drag you back there and will stab you in your throat. I will yank you by your hair from this room down the hall and two flights of stairs. There, I will leave you to bleed to death by the front door with no way to scream for help for Millicent is still fast asleep and the staff cares nothing of your condition."
Margaret nodded again and closed her eyes. Mary raised herself up and off and jerked Margaret forward.
Margaret was choking as she took in air, and began sobbing, leaning into her assailant for comfort. Mary was no mother to her, so she wrenched her by the hair and glared down at her with eyes that burned through the girl's soul, a girl young enough to be her own daughter. "Peter told me to. He told me we had to get rid of Mr. Darling or he'd spoil everything. I had to, I love him."
Mary let go of her hair and hauled her up onto the bed.
"Start at the beginning, Margaret. I want to know everything, from where you met Peter, to why my husband now sits in jail, innocent of all the crimes is accused of. Do not try to trick me, for I am far cleverer than you can imagine. Not even your lover, Peter, knows of my limitless resources. Do leave out one detail, for I will make good on my promise..." To prove her words true, Mary removed her knitting needles from her bag and clutched them in her hand, holding them as if they were daggers. Mary's tone was most distressing to hear. She used a voice which no one who knew her would now recognize. Of course, there were those who had heard it from time to time, and it had the same effect on them that it had now on Margaret, who cowered and cringed as she shook in terror. "Now Margaret, I am waiting..."
"I've known Peter as long as I can remember, since I was a young child" she began in a whisper, her voice scratchy from Mary's abuse. "My earliest memories are of you, Mrs. Darling, and Peter. You used to visit with me when I was staying with my father's woman friend after my mother died. You used to bring me clothes, and toys and food that they would gather up the moment you left and sell them for money to pay the bills. That woman died in childbirth, too, my father told me he had dirty blood, and that is why his babies and their mothers died. He told me that the fact alone that I lived proved I was worse than he was" Margaret was now gazing off, strolling down memory lane while Mary was growing annoyed at her flattery and delay.
"Peter, Margaret," Mary reminded her harshly, causing Margaret to lower head and cry harder.
"After she died, we didn't have a place to live, so Peter told my father that if he let him have me when he was in London, he would set us up in a better place. I remember Peter coming by to see my mother when she was alive, but I don't remember my mother, I only remember him. He used to touch me..." Her voice caught in her throat as the memory seemed to shake her like a terrier with a throw rug.
Mary now sighed, feeling guilty about her unsympathetic attitude, not foreseeing this revelation, nor truly believing until that moment that Peter was Satan in the flesh. The first sign of sympathy shadowed her being as she lowered her head as well for Margaret sobbed without relief. "Child, you don't have to go on in detail about that, just tell me--"
Margaret now interrupted Mary, raising her hand and her voice, "NO. I want you to know everything now. No one ever let me tell it. Millicent slapped me and told me to shut my filthy mouth when I tried to explain why I wasn't a virgin. Now that you are here and you want to know, I want to tell the truth. I want YOU to listen to ME!"
Margaret drew herself into a little ball, hugging her knees to her chest' -- the position of a girl who had been violated, wanting to protect herself shaking her head and wiping her tears away. With all that settled, "My father and Peter Darling made an arrangement, and Peter would stop by our house, and touch me however he wanted, and make me do things to him, the most awful things, Mrs. Darling. He paid my father when he was done, and was then left in his neat suit and hat, whistling as he walked out the door, as if he had not just left a little girl a bloody mess on the bed. He made me pretend I was a lady, even though I was no older than six or seven. He bought me dresses and makeup and jewelry and would make me wear them. And being the 'lady'," she spat out the title sarcastically, "I am today, I know exactly what he was doing now. He would dance me about and make me drink wine and then he would touch me. You know, tell me I was pretty and my skin was so soft. 'Kiss me...' he would yell, and I would have to do it, or he would slap my bare bottom. He would take off his clothes and make me ... He would tell me to lie down on the bed and spread my legs. Mostly, he would use his fingers and his mouth, and ... and he hurt me Mrs. Darling. It hurt so bad..." Margaret choked through the pain, while Mary tried to control her own breathing that had unexpectedly become ragged.
"He was my first when I was only nine, because my father told him he had to wait or he would surely kill me, him being a full-grown man. And it was NOT nice. My father held me down while Peter rutted into me ... the strange thing was, Peter always said he was sorry for what he did. He said it was because he loved me so much, and never wanted to lose me, that is why he did what he did to me. He told me when I was older, we would run away together, and he would make me a proper wife who was wealthy and well-cared for. I believed him. But father grew jealous. I guess he didn't want to lose me either. And anyway, why should Peter be the only one to enjoy me? Peter said I was nice and tight, and he liked it that way. So did my father."
Mary rubbed her face with her hands, aghast at the girl's horrific descriptions, and moved her fingers just enough to see Margaret staring her at. Margaret was impatient, and wanted to be heard. "Peter was always back and forth between Paris and London. And then one day, after being in Paris for awhile, he returned. I told him all my father had done to me. What a mistake that was, because his feelings towards me changed and he became a monster. A worse monster. He started calling me names, horrible names ... after that and he would hurt me on purpose. There were no more dresses or gifts or dancing, just him barging in having at me. He would slap me hard, over and over again, and where his hands would land! He would pull at me and pinch me ... He would put it in any hole on my body he could find, even my..." Margaret's voice fell away, she shifted on the bed, drawing herself in even tighter, remembering the agony of Peter's torture.
When she found her voice again, she continued: "My father got mad because, when he wanted it, I hurt too much, and I used to cry. He told Peter he couldn't come by anymore, and they got into a horrible fight that Peter lost, so he went away. I thought it was going to get better with him gone, and maybe it did. My father said I was spoiled in that way; he called me a dirty filthy little whore just like my mother. He told me I liked getting it stuck in me, and if I liked it that much, I could do for money. He sent me out on the street. My father and Peter never had to pay me for it, they just took it from me, so getting paid for it was better, and I always kept some of the money for myself."
Mary now felt like a mother again instead of an avenging queen, so she hugged Margaret who embraced her back the instant she felt Mary's touch.
"Peter was only gone for a month, and I was out on the street working every night, and we still ran out of money. My father got really angry, and he started beating me to make me work the streets during the day as well. At night it was the drunks by the pubs, in the daytime, it was the businessmen near the bank and Parliament. The first time I saw Mr. Darling, your husband, I didn't even get a chance to offer him a quick dip in the alley. He gave me tuppence, five of them. And every day, no matter what, when he saw me, he gave me the same."
Margaret leaned as close as she could get into Mary's embrace, and squeezed her tightly around the waist. On instinct alone, Mary released the knitting needles, which dropped to the floor, and kissed Margaret's forehead, rubbing her shoulders to sooth her.
"I never had to suck on Mr. Darling, or lay down for him, or anything. Sometimes, Mrs. Darling, when he would see me in the morning, when I was still there from working the night, he would give me his lunch bag. I felt badly, taking a handout. I didn't know Peter was his brother, not then, so I waited for him when he got out of work, and I followed him. I followed him every day for a week and he always walked home the same. I figured one night when he was walking, I'd offer myself to him for free. So I picked a night, and I dressed pretty and cleaned myself up, and started to flirt when I saw him. He asked me my name and I told him, 'Whatever you want it to be, Sir.' He got really upset and backed away from me; I felt awful and scared myself. I never had a man refuse a charity lay before. I chased after him and told him my name was Margaret Shipman. He said he knew my mother, and thought all along that's who I was, because we have the same smile."
Margaret moaned out loud, an agonizing cry as the demons she held within fled from her body and returned to hell where they belonged.
"You do have the same smile, Margaret, and the same laugh," Mary conceded with tears.
"Mr. Darling told me if my mother were alive, she would have sold herself into slavery to keep me from the misery I lived in. He said he knew she would do that for me. I know she would have, Mrs. Darling, my father made her take to the street, too, before she died. He told me he had to give her a baby to make sure she didn't come home with someone else's..."
Mary was already privy to that knowledge, and hearing for the first time in so many years and from Penny's daughter made her weep more.
Margaret nodded, "That's why you stole money from your husband and didn't tell him why, to help my mother...to help keep my mother from the streets...you gave her money so she didn't have to sell herself... I read it in her journal..."
Mary acknowledged she was correct on that account, "I'm sorry he hit you for it..." Margaret offered before going on. "Mr. Darling promised to save me and bring me home with him, so I could be a part of his family. He said that's what you would want, and he wanted it as well." Margaret broke down and began to sob inconsolably. Mary knelt down in front of her and hugged her with all her might.
Margaret raised her eyes to Mary, and nodded she was ready to go on. "My father started receiving letters from Mr. Darling, and he sent a letter to Peter, mocking him. 'You wanted Mary all to yourself and George stole her out from under you, you had Margaret all to yourself, and George will take her away as well.' Peter came back and started paying my father so he could tell father how to respond and what to ask for. One day, Mr. Darling sent my father diamonds in a black velvet bag, and my father gave those to Peter and he took them. Peter told me then I was to go to your house, and try to get Mr. Darling to pay me like the other men did. I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but before she died, my father made my mother go to ask Mr. Darling to pay her for sleeping with him. But she couldn't do that, and neither could I. He was always so nice, and just wanted to help me, to save me. I was scared Peter would get really mad that I wasn't listening to him about seducing Mr. Darling. Peter can be very evil and cruel and brutal when you don't do exactly what he wants. And then Millicent came and took me away and I was relieved, because then I didn't have to obey Peter."
Mary lowered her head, but now it was Margaret who raised it to watch her eyes. "Mrs. Darling, you must know I never thought Mr. Darling would, anyway. My father told me Peter's plan would never work, because my mother wouldn't ask Mr. Darling, so he did for her. Your husband declined, but gave my father the money he was asking for my mother to lie down for nevertheless, just like he did with me. Mr. Darling never looked at me like Peter did. I was afraid if I tried, him not knowing me like he knew my mother, he'd throw me out on the streets again, or worse, send me back to my father and Peter."
Mary inhaled, in her mind she reviewed the timeline, fitting what went on in her life, the life of her husband and children, and what aligned against them all behind the scenes.
"Millicent told me I should always write to my father to be polite, and I wrote to him that I was going to an expensive boarding school. He must have told Peter, because one day he just showed up. He was mad that Millicent had me, and not Mr. Darling. After a while it didn't matter, for he wanted us to be together again, and he said he would get even with your husband in another way. He hates his brother, Mrs. Darling. I met his mother when I was a child, and she didn't seem that horrid. She said a pretty girl like me should not be involved with scum like him. She called him the devil. How awful does a man have to be for his own mother to call him the devil? When she tried to contact Mr. Darling and tell him, Peter sent her away. I think there is something else, another reason I don't know about why he despises his brother so. Please don't be mad and believe me if I knew I would tell you."
"Why are you still involved with him, Margaret? Why would you choose to love and lie for a man like that?" Mary asked touching the young lady who lived more lives than she had, even though she was half Mary's age.
"He promised me that he would take me back to Paris and retrieve our baby from the orphanage just as soon as Mr. Darling gets what he deserves. I lied since you told me not to, I'm sorry. I don't love Peter, I hate him, I can't stand him, and I wish he were dead. I even tried to rid myself of him while I was at school, that's how I got the baby. He wanted to keep me for himself and he said no other would ever have me. He made me steal Mr. Darling's pocket watch and his wallet. He told me yesterday morning to lie and tell you I was also with Mr. Darling, that he wasn't just having an affair with Vivian, but with me also. He wanted me to tell you all these horrible things he made me memorize word for word. Peter is always watching me; I can't get away from him. Even when I hide he finds me. He threatened to kill Millicent, he said if I didn't go along with his plans, he would steal Wendy away and rape her and then make it look like Mr. Darling did it. He even has spectacles like Mr. Darling's that he wears and he signs his name too, pretending to be him to soil his good name. He practiced at it, so they are identical when they write. Mrs. Darling, Peter can and will do all those things, I know he can, I've seen him do it. I've seen him kill someone with my own eyes..."
Mary listened as Margaret spoke, more and more pieces of the puzzle fit into place, all except one. "All that he did to you, Margaret, and still you would lie against George."
Margaret clutched both of Mary's hands in her own, "I was only going to do that too because I just want my baby back. He told me he would get my baby back and then he would leave me alone forever. If it all worked out in his favor, he wouldn't need me anymore. I love my baby; please help me get my baby back. I want my baby. Millicent took my baby from me and wouldn't even let me hold her. They stole her from me. Please keep your promise to my mother and help me, please, if not for me then for my mother."
This sentiment again brought Mary to tears. This would have been the daily torture she would have gone through had she listened to her parents, and her daughter had become the Wendy that wasn't.
"Margaret, listen to me. Your mother told me once; God moves when we move. In times like these, we need all the help we can get. I will help you as well, if you help me. Understand this, I cannot do anything for you if I don't have my husband by my side. He is my strength when I am weak, and he's my shield when I need protection. Without him, I am a knight without a sword. You must tell me what lies were told against him and by whom."
Margaret nodded with her whole body. "I can do that, as long as you promise to get my baby back and keep Peter from me and her." Mary stood and extended her hand to Margaret, a handshake sealing their agreement.
"It was a girl then? Margaret, I'll do better than get your baby back, I will make sure you get all the help you need to raise it. And I promise with all my heart I will do my best to see she never has to face the same fate as you."
Mary and Margaret now went to Millicent's room, and Mary asked the girl to recount every detail of her story to her adoptive mother. Before Margaret began, Mary made Millicent sit with a stocking stuffed in her mouth while she listened. Margaret recounted every single detail of the plot against George, what lies would be told and how to prove them untrue. She told all the particulars of what transpired and when. Margaret finally finished the second time, and Millicent fainted for the twelfth time. Millicent came around and found herself tied to a chair with Mary and Margaret standing before her.
"Aunt Millicent," Mary now began, "you are going to go down to the station house and recant all of your testimony against George. Then you are going to arrange with my father transportation to Paris. Harold will take you there with Margaret. You will go to the orphanage and allow her to retrieve her baby. Harold will sign for the child, and name himself father to her. He will marry Margaret there and then divorce her quietly through a private attorney here. Harold has already completely arranged it with fraudulent dates, because he is owed a favor from one of his old friends. Because of him and him alone, there will not be a scandal, and you can be thankful to him for that. Then you will return home and love that child. Do you understand?"
Millicent, even restrained in a chair, could still turn her nose up, so she did, "And who will make me do all those things? For George, of course Mary, and I'll even apologize to him personally, but not the bastard child of this thing I call a daughter, and Harold as a son-in-law and an ex at that ... He is a drunk, a disgraced doctor and criminal!"
Mary glanced to Margaret, who wore an expression of shame and dishonor. Margaret knew she was never to be a proper young lady, acceptable in polite society, no matter how many lace dresses and pretty gowns she had in her closet, and she didn't need Millicent to tell her that. Forever she would be seen as ruined, imperfect because of her most unfortunate circumstances of being motherless, and left with a rampant criminal for a father. Seeing so much of herself on that day, when Mary had to admit to her parents she allowed George to take her virtue without the formality of a ring, Mary found herself back at that very moment. She raised her hand to her aunt and, with all the years of resentment she'd kept bottled up within her, she brought it down across Aunt Millicent's cheek.
"That is for the slap you gave me, for thinking the same thing when I was eighteen. First off, Harold may have been a drunk, but he is sober now and also a saint for what he is willing to do for his family. Second, and you'd best listen to me woman, you should be thankful to God that He has forgiven your sins and offered you the privilege of a child where there was once no possibility of you ever having the honor of being called mother. And still, after all your wrongs to others and yourself, He still feels you worthy of another title, harder to earn let alone enjoy, that of Grandmother."
Well, that was all Mary had to say, for Millicent jerked about so harshly she freed herself. She rose and straightened her gown and hair and pleaded, "Could we not go to Paris first, Mary? I'm dying to see my granddaughter."
Mary arrived to the safety of her castle and gathered her children and Grandpa Joe to their living room and recited the information she received word for word only leaving off the gruesome and painful details of Margaret's abuse.
"And Margaret will swear her life on it?" her father asked. "It is still her word against theirs, and they can always call her a liar. Mary, remember now two innocent men sit in prison because of her."
Mary watched her father strategize a few steps ahead in the chess game, and she countered with how her own defense was already planned beyond his, "Millicent is also a knight on our field, and I have a few pawns in my pocket not yet on the board. They will do as we have arranged, and then Harry will take them to Paris, and name himself sire to the baby and husband to Margaret. That clears our path to the opposing king, making it much easier without George's name plastered on the child's birth certificate. This is only the first move of the game, Father, and I am ready to play."
Grandpa Joe was impressed and bowed to his daughter as they dressed for bed, for they had already made their first dash on the opposition's king. "I may be premature saying this, but since it will be anyway, Check," Mary said, poised on victory.
Unfortunately for George, the game was far from over. Even with her moves arranged, the Queen would still have to lie in wait for the opposition to progress forward. And they did, just as expected. Out of nowhere, as though she had been there all along, Peter's wife, Eve Darling, miraculously reappeared, the pinnacle of polite society. Her niece also resurfaced and, just as Mary predicted, played the part of the adolescent lover who was misled by a scoundrel much more experienced in shocking behavior. They now spread gossip and more lies, all painting George as the villain with Peter playing the hero.
"Oh yes, he told my niece if she informed anyone of their affair, he would rape her with the barrel of a pistol," Peter informed his gentlemen friends one night while playing poker.
Her family may have worried, but Mary was still as confident of her victory as she was the day she turned Margaret to their side. Mary played a serious game of chess, not for recreation, but to win. She thought all her pieces were important, and wanted none of her own sacrificed in the game. Therefore she was a formidable opponent and very persuasive with her smile.
In the same salon, on that same night, playing poker at another table was Sir Edward Quiller Couch. "Did you hear what that man spoke of George Darling? Is he not employed at your Bank as manager?" Sir Edward was chomping on his cigar as he turned to see Peter snarl at his victory and meager winnings at the nearby table.
"That man, Peter Darling, is imbecile." He declared taking in his own victory as well as a lucrative pot, the largest of the night. "He has always been a cheat, a liar, a total and complete fraud and I shall see to it myself, that he is thrown out of this establishment on his ear!"
As far as Sir Edward's bank manager was concerned, that was simply settled with, "George Darling is one of the finest gentleman in all of London and one of my most respected and trustworthy employees. I'd bet the queen's account that his brother only lies about him because he is envious of George's spotless reputation!"
Sir Edward was good on his word and very trustworthy, not only did he keep his promise that night, that of having Peter Darling tossed to the sidewalk, he made another the next day as well.
"Sir Edward I assure you, your letter of George's good service all these years to the bank will be fine for the court. It would be a waste of your good time to dredge all the way down there to speak on his behalf." Sir Edward Quiller Couch's mind was made up and there nothing Mrs. Darling could do to change it, especially not after she smiled.
"No Mary I insist. George is my finest employee, and to be quite frank I still remember the entire ruckus his brother caused when he first arrived here. He deposited a miniscule amount in a savings account that cost more to balance then the balance itself and then he demanded I fire George for being impolite to customers. I don't think your husband even knows how to be impolite. I will walk in there and tell the court just that, and a few other choice remarks I cannot repeat to a proper lady such as yourself, for fear of being slapped at my rudeness. I won't hear another word about it!"
Mary had her pawns, rooks, knights and even her bishops lined up correctly to play, and now she was ready for the battle to begin. Because she was in the right, she chose white and moved first. With Peter's counteraction already in play, Mary moved again. She learned of Vivian's location and paid her a visit. "Good afternoon, Mrs. Darling, I must say it is so nice to finally meet you in person," she jeered with a smile as false as she was. An hour later, Mary left and swiped the opposition's second piece off the board.
"What did you tell her?" Grandpa Joe asked as Mary returned carrying one of Peter's rooks.
"I told her that a friend I had made in Paris when I vacationed there with my husband had recently entrusted me with an advertisement for a brothel there, and, oddly enough, I noticed Vivian was star attraction. Not only does she dance the can-can, she can also be hired for a private show after hours by paying her madam extra in advance. By the way father, I also mentioned the madam's name that was listed."
Grandpa Joe spit out his tea as his eyes bulged from his head when his daughter informed him of her name. "The Garden of Eden," was the name of the show, and oddly enough, the Madam who managed the dancers was named, "Eve."
"Here's the candle on the cake, Father. Vivian confided in me that George never fathered her child. Peter made her starve herself and tie her corset extra tight to keep from showing. She had already missed a monthly before she arrived and that is why Peter chose her instead of her sister who was just as pretty."
Mary raised her brow, and inquired after her husband still waiting in hell to be saved. "He's not well, Mary, he caught a nasty cold, and they're keeping him in the sick ward. You should go see him."
Mary left immediately, and began to nurse him back to health. When the prison guard told her she had to leave, just like the time she was in the hospital herself, she showed George on her watch when she would return. "I have some business I need to take care of tomorrow, I will send Wendy to you, and then John and then Michael, so you will not be alone all day." All the children, escorted by Harold, came together and stayed until their mother arrived, and then they all stayed until the warden made them leave.
For her next moves, Mary told no one where she went except her father. If he had to recount it, he would have had to remember that she went to two different prisons on either side of London, several hotels, several other restaurants, a boarding school that took her away for the day and night, the ticket booth at the boat yard, the telegraph office several times a day, the station house almost daily, and potter's field, the poor man's cemetery.
She had not slept in weeks, and had not eaten a meal since the last day George was home. She drank tea and at night smoked cigarettes for energy in her competition. Mary never felt more invigorated in her life, and she never looked better. Mary visited George every day and told him, "You must trust me for I know what I am doing." George was never able to beat Mary at chess, even though he won tournaments playing in school, so he trusted her because, as always in their marriage, she knew best.
It can be agreed, chess is traditionally a game of gentlemen, but Mary was no gentleman. She was a wife and mother, and at times a wicked witch protecting her own gingerbread house. She had the all the powers that went with her professions. One by one, she swiped Peter's pieces, cleaning the board, leaving only one on his side. Peter the king. More so, she turned the pieces, rather than clearing them, for all his pawns, rooks, knights and bishops and even the Queen now became hers, and she aligned them against him without him ever knowing.
The Darling Family came home from church on a Sunday morning and found George sitting on the doorstep waiting. Mary embraced him and covered his face with kisses. When the children were able to surround him with their hugs and kisses, Mary looked at her father and said, "Checkmate."
Author's Note: I do extend my apologizes for the harsh description of Margaret's abuse. But it was necessary in the process of my plot development which will be become an important factor later in the story.