Bron-15

Continued from Chapter 14: Bron-14 | ABCtales

It was six weeks later, three pm; South Greenwich Magistrates' Court was working its way steadily through a backlog of cases. There’d been a spate of shoplifting in Lewisham, a bit of football-related violence, a couple of road rage incidents.

It had been raining all day. The drip-drip-drip of the rain past the window counterpointed by the steady plop of drops falling into a bucket in the corridor.

“Hmm,” said the magistrate. “Let me get this straight. You were standing in front of the Charlton Chippie. Wearing the scarf of the away team. And making … gestures of some sort?”

“He was doing the V-sign – both hands - and he said-“

“Miss Jones! I’m asking Constable Plummer, not you…”

“Sorry Miss…”

“Ma-am.”

“Sorry, Miss Mahm.”

“Er, yes, that’s quite alright, Miss Jones. Now, Constable Plummer. Were you making gestures or saying anything to the people coming towards you?”

“No, Ma’am. I was scanning the crowd.”

“But you WERE wearing a Stoke scarf, were you not?”

“I may have picked one up and put it on. It was cold. I can’t remember … ”

 

 

The magistrate looked up. “Miss Jones, this court recognises that this was an isolated incident. You have no previous convictions, and I accept that your actions were impulsive not malicious. For those reasons, I give an absolute discharge. No further action will be taken…”

“Oh, wow! Does that mean I’m not guilty?”

“No, Miss Jones, not quite. It means, we find the offence proved – that’s what we mean by guilty. But taking into account your youth, inexperience, and because this was an isolated incident, I consider that no punishment is necessary. That is what we call an absolute discharge. So you don’t have to pay a fine, serve a sentence or do community service ... ”

“I don’t mind doing a bit of community service – looking after animals or old ladies…”

“Miss Jones, I’m not a branch of the social services … ”

“Can I go now?”

“Yes, you may. But perhaps a word in private?”

Bron walked hesitantly across the floor of the court. “I see you at the Valley again, I’ll ‘ave you!” hissed Constable Plummer as she passed.

“You won’t. Borin’ as shite anyway…”

 

 

Bron’s suit jacket chafed around her neck; she’d borrowed it from Linda, telling her it was for a job interview. She shrugged it off her shoulders.

“So, Miss Jones. Bronwyn, isn’t it?”

“Bron.”

“So Bron. You can consider yourself fortunate. You do realise that an offence like that could have led to a fine, or worse? Especially as you had no legal representation. Can I ask why not?”

“Skint, aren’t I?”

“You could have asked for legal aid. Did no one suggest it?”

“Didn’t want to tell anybody, like. Miss? Will this be in the paper?”

“I very much doubt it, Bron. Not the South London Times. Not even the News Shopper. You live in W1, near Marble Arch? But I see you were born in Lan-Fare-Um…”

“Near Holyhead.”

A long way from home. So Bron, can I ask, what do you do for a living?”

“Oh. Well, Linda and Chris, they let me stay in their spare room. For free, like.”

“Friends of yours?”

“Sort of. I get the room for being in Chris’s film, the one that he’s making…”

“And what sort of film would that be, Bron?”

“Oh no, it’s not PORNO! Swear to God, it’s not…. You know, that’s exactly what Mam said when I told her …”

“But surely you must have some other income, even with free rent?”

“Yeah, well, I do sort of. But it’s not … it’s not kind of official, like…”

“Cash in hand?”

“Yes. I mean, do you need to know…”

“No, no, no. That’s fine, Bron. Is it something like waitressing, or retail?”

“I work in a metal factory.”

“A METAL factory? In Marble ARCH?”

“It’s not there; it’s in Willesden.”

“But have you ever considered a more stable career? Or are you banking on a big break in showbusiness?”

“Fat chance … No, I mean, I supposed I ought to look for a steady job, but, well, you know ... ”

“Any family members that could help?”

“Don’t think so. Tad, he works for the Council, or did, when he did anything. Mam and my sis and brother, they’re running the farm back in Llanfair – just about. My Uncle William, he works for the railway … “

“The railway? That’s interesting. Railway work goes in families, doesn’t it?”

“For lads, though, isn’t it? They wouldn’t want a girl…”

“I don’t know about that. Everyone’s very hot on equal opportunities these days. Ever thought of applying? Could your Uncle put your name forward?”

“He might … but won’t this discharge thing I’ve got be a problem?”

“Discharge? Oh, I see … that. No. shouldn’t be a problem. I can ask if you like?”

To be continued in Chapter 16