THIRTEEN BLOWS FOR SUFFRAGE

June, 1913 (somewhere in Kensington)

The first blow struck the King on the back of the head. BANG!

There were just the three ladies tonight. Sally's job was to keep a lookout (in case of unexpected visitors), Lucy would provide wine and cakes and Violet would carry out the treasonous work. As the younger and stronger of the three she was best suited for the job. They chatted comfortably between hammer blows. BANG!

“Wasn't it was heart-warming to see the huge crowds who turned out to watch Emily Davison's funeral parade. They'll have to take notice of us now won't they,” said Lucy hopefully. "I'm so glad that the poor horse and jockey have recovered.”

Another blow to the side of the head. BANG!

“I don't think the politicians will change anything ”, replied Violet, “they're happy enough to drag us in and out of prison with this awful new 'Cat and Mouse' Act. It's even more cruel than force-feeding.” BANG!

June, 1914 (The Marlborough Club, Pall Mall)

The Colonel summoned a club steward. “Two more brandies please Thomas.”

“Shocking situation with Archduke Fritz ….. whatever his name”

“Franz Ferdinand” said Michael, with a polite smile.

“Yes, that's the fellow. It's looking like Asquith will have to take us to war unless the Germans agree to brokering a peace deal between Austria and Serbia – and that doesn't seem very likely.” He waved his copy of The Times. “They're calling it any day now Michael.”

“It's 'a clap of thunder over Europe' according to the Chronicle” the younger man replied. “They do agree that war seems imminent.”

The steward returned with the drinks. “Your brandies gentlemen.”
“Ah, thank you Thomas” said the Colonel, pulling a few coins out of his pocket for a tip.

“Good Lord – what the blazes! Here, Michael – have a look at this. It's outrageous!”

Later that day – Kensington

“How was your day darling?” asked Michael, greeting his wife on his return from the Marlborough. “The Colonel thinks we'll be at war with Germany in a few days” he continued, without waiting for a reply.

“You won't have to enlist will you Michael?”

“Shouldn't think so – it'll all be over by Christmas according to the chaps at the club. Maybe Asquith can still make the Germans see sense” he said with little conviction.

“Oh, I must tell you - the Colonel found something strange today. He was looking for some change to tip the steward when he saw that one of his pennies had been defaced. He was furious – threw it on the floor in disgust.”

Michael reached into his pocket. “Here, I picked it up to show you.”

He handed his wife a penny. She frowned.

“Turn it over”

It was an Edward VII penny, dated 1908. Across the head of the late King, the letters 'VOTES FOR WOMEN' had been crudely stamped.

Violet felt herself flushing. She looked closely. She knew that others were stamping the coppers too but this one looked like hers. Yes, she was sure of it. She'd probably made a couple of hundred of these – although, of late, her clandestine activities had changed to printing leaflets – much less labour intensive and far more effective in delivering the message.

“Well” she replied innocently, gradually recovering her composure, “who'd have thought of something like that? I must show the ladies at our next bridge night.”

“Apparently they are being referred to as Suffragette Pennies” Michael explained. “I've never actually seen one before but a few folk at the club said they find the odd one occasionally. It'll be those Women's Union people who are responsible – I'm so glad you're not involved with the Pankhurst troublemakers darling.“

“Cup of tea dear?” asked Violet.