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“Mum?”
“It’s over, Callie.” Is she saying what I think she’s saying?
“What do you mean?”
“Betty is in custody, as of this morning. It’s done, love.”
It’s done, over, finished! I can come home. Daisy is by my side in an instant. I can’t speak, so my mum fills her in on the news. She asks about her brother. He’s safe, in custody, but alive.
“Tell me what happened!” I need details.
“Well, they served the arrest warrant this morning and took her in.”
Hang about, after all this time, after the bullshit we went through to get the book, etc, etc, that’s it. Some cop turned up at the cottage and slapped some handcuffs on her? Where was the S.W.A.T. team or the car chase? Or the midnight raid that ended up in a bloody gun battle? I don’t know about you, but this is really fucking underwhelming and anti-climactic! “That’s it, they just arrested her. No drama, no fighting?”
“Nope, she came quietly.” That is the furthest thing—ever—I would have imagined happening. Betty Compton is a fighter. There is no chance in hell she just rolls over.
“That doesn’t sound right to me,” I say because, shit, there has to be more to it than that.
“She probably has no idea about all the evidence against her. I bet she thinks she’ll be able to get herself out of it.” That tracks, but surely she knows that I gave up the black book, she has to have made the connection.
“Stop worrying, love,” my mum says. No, I can’t. Something isn’t sitting right. I know my nan and she would never surrender this easily.
* * *
Over the course of the next few weeks, I’m subjected to countless interviews by the police. I have given numerous statements to anyone that asked. It has been ridiculous. I’m secretly missing my time on the lam. At least then I was left alone.
Once the story broke about the little old woman from Yorkshire who turned out to be a prolific criminal, I was hounded by the press. Fuck knows how they got my name, but they did. The bright side to it all was that I got to hide away with Daisy for a few weeks until it all calmed down.
Today marks the start of her trial. It’s going to be the first time I have seen her in person since I ran. I’m nervous. I know she can’t hurt me, but still, this woman is my version of the bogey man. The prosecution is going for life imprisonment. I think they’ll get what they want.
According to Mum and Janet, the information we collected was an absolute treasure trove. The break up of Betty’s empire is the single biggest thing to have happened in UK criminal history. Apparently the accounts and names lead to more arrests and discoveries than the police thought possible. I feel good about that. I hope we’ve stopped other families from suffering at the hands of those fuckers.
My relationship with my mum has turned a corner. I’ve been able to start letting her in. It’s a slow process, but it’s happening. I bawled my eyes out the first time I really let her hug me. It was not a pretty sight.
Sitting in the courtroom waiting for my nan to enter the box is a weird feeling. I never thought we would get here. A tiny part of me—a really tiny part—feels sorry for her. I asked mum how the hell Nan became Queen B in the first place. It was my great-grandad that started it all. He took my nan under his wing and taught her everything from a very young age. The life she had was all that she’d ever known. Apparently my great-grandad came from a poor family and he did whatever was necessary to claw his way out of poverty. I would admire the man, but he rose in society by hurting others. He then taught his only daughter to do the same.
My breath hitches as Betty is led to the box where she will remain until the trial is done. She looks so old and frail. Nothing like the woman I remember. Fuck, I’m gobsmacked. Her hair is still styled like the late queen, but her dominance and confidence are nowhere to be seen. Her face has so many more lines than it did and her skin is wrinkled and thin looking. Her height has diminished too. She was never tall, but now she looks so tiny.
If you didn’t know the details of her crimes, there is no way you would believe this little old lady had led the life she has or done the terrible things she’s done.
The courtroom falls silent and the lawyers begin. All the evidence is laid out, and it is impressive. Betty remains silent throughout the whole thing. Her face gives nothing away. I thought that I would gain some satisfaction from this. After all, the woman ruined my life. But there’s nothing.
When the verdict lands a month later, it’s no surprise that she’s found guilty. Betty Compton will never see the outside of a cell ever again. Once the judge dismisses the court, Betty is escorted out. Everyone in the room starts to leave. As I stand to leave, Betty’s lawyer approaches me.
“Ms Compton, may I have a word?”
“Sure.” This is interesting. We move to the side so no one can overhear. I see Daisy watching us from the door.
“Ms Compton, your grandmother has requested a visit.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Betty is hoping that you would visit with her before she is taken back to her cell. I have squared it with the prosecuting lawyer and the judge has allowed a five-minute visitation. Betty just wishes to make things right.” Is he having a laugh? “Please, Callie.”
“Okay, fine.” I should refuse, I know I should, but I don’t. Fuck, she’s still my nan.
I follow the lawyer to the holding cells. My Spidey sense is tingling. The judge can’t possibly have allowed this? Doesn’t she need to be chained to a table or something? Or is that just a made up TV thing? Maybe she’s not classed as a threat.
