‘It’s none of your business,’ Brandon was saying.
‘It’s very much my business,’ Ruth said. ‘Jenny is my sister and if you think I’m going to let some unemployed little toerag like you rip her off, you’re very much mistaken. I know about the money.’
‘It’s a loan.’
‘Two thousand pounds – how are you going to pay that back?’
‘Genevieve’s taken a shine to me. Where’s the harm?’
‘I know what you see, Brandon. A vulnerable middle-aged woman to be exploited. Another one.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘I’ve spoken to Ronald. You didn’t just leave New Zealand to travel the world, did you now?’ Ruth said.
‘I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.’
‘And that sudden departure from London.’
‘You know what,’ Brandon said, ‘I’m not having this conversation. It’s Genevieve’s money and if you don’t like it, bad luck. There’s nothing you can do.’
‘I wouldn’t be so sure about that,’ Ruth said.
The kitchen door slammed shut, hard enough to make the floor vibrate.
Ruth stepped onto the terrace. Julia drew back from the window. She heard the click of a lighter and smelt cigarette smoke. Leaning forward again, she could see Ruth was sucking on her cigarette, her mouth set hard, staring into the middle distance.
Two thousand pounds. That couldn’t be right. She’d thought it had been twenty pounds here and there. Surely even Genevieve wouldn’t be so stupid.
It was none of Julia’s business. She’d made the second round of interviews for the Hounslow job and if it wasn’t exactly party central, at least it was on the Tube.
Living with Genevieve was proving to be as stifling as living with Audrey, only without the pressure valve of telling her to get lost when she became too annoying. Perhaps Dominic found Genevieve equally insufferable and had run away. Or maybe it hadn’t been an accident. He’d cut the rope to free himself of Genevieve for ever. The moment the thought came into her head, Julia felt guilty. The death of her only child must have devastated Genevieve. It wasn’t so surprising that her mind moulded another young man into the form of her lost son.
She came out of the bathroom. On the landing she could hear that Ruth had now taken up the argument with Genevieve. Julia couldn’t make out the whole conversation. They hissed at each other under their breath, as if too well brought up to shout. She could make out the words ‘Brandon’, ‘money’ and, more than once, ‘Julia’. Why was she being dragged into this?
She’d had enough. She wasn’t supposed to be going out with Pearl until the following night but called her anyway.
‘I can’t take it anymore,’ Julia told her.
‘Don’t blame you. Come up. I’m meeting Rudi, but you can come along.’
‘He won’t mind?’
‘No. It’s about time you met him.’
‘So, things are going well again, between you two?’
‘Not bad,’ Pearl said. ‘And, Jules, you know how pissed off you were when we didn’t tell you about Christian and Ellie’s engagement?’
‘And the pregnancy,’ Julia added.
‘That too. The thing is …’
Julia closed her eyes. Nothing could be worse than learning of their impending marriage and child. Whatever it was, she could cope. Unless they’d split up. Was it possible? Perhaps the child wasn’t Christian’s.
‘It’s not as bad this time,’ Pearl said. ‘But they’ve moved into one of those townhouses along the canal at Oakham.’
Julia’s dream home, the one she’d decorated a hundred times in her head, chosen the furniture and selected the plants for the garden. Was it a deliberate attempt by Christian to stamp on her feelings? Why else had they chosen one of those houses, when there were hundreds of other places they could go?
‘You don’t care anymore, do you, Jules? You shouldn’t. You’re too good to spend your life fussing over soft furnishings, which is what’s going to happen to Ellie. And I need you here. I hardly saw you before you moved down.’
‘It’s fine,’ Julia said. ‘I’m fine.’
Why did it still hurt? She thought she’d moved on. Did she still love Christian, or was it the memory of love? Would she take him back if he asked? She pushed the question from her mind.
‘I’ll try to catch the quarter-past train. It’ll be great to meet Rudi at last.’
Pearl was who she needed right now. It made her realise how shallow her friendships in the house were. Even with Lucy. She knew everything about Pearl, could guess what clothes she would buy and which men she liked and vice versa. They had a shared past of fun and tragedy. A few drunken nights out with strangers didn’t turn them into friends.
She checked the time. There was still three-quarters of an hour. She wetted and combed her hair, pencilled on some eyeliner and changed into the cream dress Pearl said suited her, but Julia wasn’t sure about. It didn’t go with her Converse trainers but looked good with the black baseball boots. A weekend of escape lay ahead of her. No Gideon. No Brandon. No Genevieve.
As she came downstairs, she could hear Ruth and Genevieve still arguing in the kitchen. If she used the front door, she could avoid them. She crept across the hall, not quietly enough.
‘You’re not about to leave by the front are you, Julia?’ Genevieve was at the kitchen door. ‘I have asked you before to go around the side.’
‘I heard you with Ruth. I didn’t want to disturb you.’
‘My sister has left, by the side door,’ Genevieve said. ‘It’s good enough for her apparently.’
‘I only—’
‘This really is the last straw. I’m going to have to give you notice to leave.’
‘You’re not serious,’ Julia said.
‘A week’s notice should be enough.’
The woman was unbelievable.
‘You’re throwing me out for using the front door?’
‘Flouting a rather simple request. Symptomatic of your behaviour in general, I’m afraid to say.’
‘Is this about Brandon?’
Genevieve pulled herself upright, and drawing on her imagined classical acting training, said, ‘We did have words about him, Julia. Words you chose to ignore.’
‘I’ve not been near him.'
‘You’ve been spying on him.’
‘He was spying on me.’
‘And you’ve hurt his feelings.’
‘Oh please – he’s an adult.’
Genevieve gave her a look bordering on hatred.
‘I’m not arguing about it. This is my house. And I’m disappointed you’ve chosen to treat it with so little respect.’
‘Bollocks.’
‘How dare you!’
‘This has nothing to do with respect. It’s to do with your fixation with Brandon. Well you can chuck me out, but he will get a girlfriend or move out or go back to New Zealand and then where will you be?’
‘As I suspected,’ Genevieve said, glowering at Julia. ‘The green-eyed monster. You’re just jealous.’
Julia’s anger bubbled beyond boiling point. Learning about Christian and Ellie and now being ejected from the house by the woman she’d done her best to protect.
‘You could go a long way without coming across a better case of projection. You’re the one who’s jealous,’ she said. ‘I could have Brandon with a click of my fingers. With all your money, dinners and gifts, you’re nothing more to him than a meal ticket. Do you think he’d be interested in an old woman like you? He laughs at you behind your back – you do know that, don’t you?’
Genevieve took a step back and used the doorframe to steady herself. ‘I don’t believe you,’ she said.
Julia had never heard Brandon laugh at Genevieve, but surely he did. And besides, Genevieve deserved her spite being thrown back at her.
‘No, you always believe what you want to believe, like your son Dominic being alive.’
‘He is!’ Genevieve sho
uted. ‘Get out. Get out at once.’
‘Don’t worry. I’m going.’
Julia stamped to the door and slammed it behind her.
Chapter 54
2018 – Guildford Crown Court
As he stands and takes his oath before the jury, Gideon plays with his wedding ring, which he hasn’t worn for months. His voice quivers, as he swears to tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth. The jury will think the quiver is a sign of nerves. I know Gideon has gauged their expectations of how an innocent man should behave, indignant, but his vocal cords betraying anxiety. It’s a convincing portrayal.
Helena Dryden gives him a benevolent smile, poor Gideon entangled in the treachery of others.
‘Mr Risborough,’ she says. ‘We’ve heard about strained relationships between the housemates at 72 Downs Avenue and resentment at the preferential treatment shown to Brandon Wells by the landlady, Mrs Jennifer Pike. Is this how you remember your time there?’
Gideon looks to the jury. ‘Not at all,’ he says. ‘I had very fond memories up until Mrs Pike’s death. It’s also where I met my future wife.’ He smiles, looks at the ring, then lets the smile fade. God, he’s good. ‘Of course, we made fun of each other. Young men, sharing a house, going out drinking – that’s what happens. And sure, we gave him some stick about the way Mrs Pike fussed over him. It was hilarious, a woman her age chasing after a younger man. It didn’t mean anything. Just a bit of male banter, a bit of fun, and I know that’s how Brandon saw it.’
The jury is watching Gideon. They don’t notice Grant McCluskey, who’s now seated in the public gallery, pursing his lips and shaking his head. Gideon sounds so reasonable, forgiving rather than patronising to those who, unlike me, haven’t been told a thousand times they would understand if only they weren’t so ‘naïve’, ‘overemotional’ and ‘limited’.
‘No animosity on your part then?’ Dryden asks.
‘None whatsoever.’
‘And between Ms Winter and Brandon?’
‘Frosty, to say the least. At the time I put it down to Jules being a bit of a snob.’
Gideon has never called me ‘Jules’. He looks to his fingers and turns his wedding ring before looking up with a sad smile. ‘She wasn’t interested in a man who worked with his hands. She had more ambition than that. It wasn’t until I heard Mr McCluskey speak just now that I learnt they’d had an affair and put two and two together.’
Dryden raises her eyebrows. ‘In what way?’ she asks.
‘She tried to distance herself from him. I had no idea at the time she had her sights set on me. One night I caught Brandon trying to go into her room. I’d had to carry her there when she was blind drunk. I knew exactly what he was up to – had to warn him off. I didn’t know back then that Brandon had previous encouragement.’
‘Did you ever see Brandon and your wife arguing?’
‘I heard them arguing. Jules would never tell me what it was about. And she was the one who told me Brandon had gone and cleared out all of his stuff.’
‘Sorry, Mr Risborough. Could you repeat that? It was definitely your future wife, Julia Winter, who informed you Brandon had gone?’
‘Yes, it was. On the bank holiday Saturday. That’s when she told us, me and Alan. We had gone out for the day. There was a mini-festival in town and we went drinking afterwards. We didn’t get home until late. Jules was still up. She told us Brandon had cleared out.’
‘She waited up to tell you that?’ Dryden’s eyebrows shoot up again. ‘And this is the Sunday we know that Brandon had told his friend, Grant McCluskey, that he was returning to the house. Is there anything else you can tell me about that weekend – anything odd or unusual?’
‘There was the smell,’ Gideon says. ‘The house stank of bleach when we came home. It was coming from the lounge.’
‘The lounge, where according to the photographed evidence of the lamp and the rug, we know Brandon Wells to have been killed?’
‘Yes.’
‘And how did Ms Winter account for this?’
‘She said there’d been an infestation of flying ants and not to go in there because insect spray was toxic. But it didn’t smell of insect spray, it smelt of bleach. We didn’t use the lounge much. It was off limits when Mrs Pike was alive. We started using it a little, after her death.’
‘And did you go into the lounge?’
‘No. It stank from outside. I wasn’t going in there. And Jules’ behaviour always was – how can I put it? – a little erratic.’
‘Erratic.’ Dryden repeats the word, as if it’s synonymous with psychotic. ‘Was there anything else peculiar?’
‘Only that Jules looked so dreadful, a little unhinged. I thought she must be ill, but she said she was all right. I was tired, so I went to bed.’
‘Did anything else occur out of the ordinary that night?’ Dryden asks.
‘It did,’ Gideon says. ‘I heard a car pull onto the drive. My room was on the ground floor and the headlamps came through my curtains and disturbed me. I could hear Jules’ voice. I couldn’t hear or see who was driving the car. It sat there for quite some time before driving off.’
‘Did you ask Ms Winter about it the next day?’
‘She moved out before I got a chance to talk to her. I noticed the rug in the lounge had gone.’
‘The one in which we know Mr Wells’ body was wrapped and buried.’
‘Yes,’ Gideon says.
‘I see.’ Dryden presses both palms on the bench in front of her and rocks forward before proceeding.
‘Mr Risborough,’ she says, ‘I’ll pre-empt Mr Mapplethorpe’s and Mr Williams’ questions, and ask why you never mentioned any of this in your police interview.’
‘Jules is still my wife and I didn’t want to be disloyal.’ He looks to the ring once more. ‘And to be honest, despite her erratic behaviour, I never thought she’d actually harm anyone. She’s threatened me with a knife in the past, but I never thought she’d go ahead and stab me. I thought it was just a show of how angry she was.’
Dryden jumps a little, as if this is completely new information for her. ‘Just a moment, Mr Risborough, Ms Winter threatened you with a knife?’
‘She accused me of sleeping with other women. It was ridiculous.’ Gideon lowers his head in faux embarrassment. ‘She and I weren’t having conjugal relations at the time. Even so, she was furious at the thought of it. Brandon was a young man, perhaps he had been seeing other women. Perhaps he was moving out and Julia—’
‘Your honour, I must interrupt,’ Ralph says. ‘This is pure conjecture.’
‘Agreed,’ Judge Fleetwood says.
‘Your honour.’ Dryden nods, then turns back to Gideon. ‘Had you, in fact, been conducting an affair?’
‘Certainly not. She was the one with insatiable appetites. I put up with it for years, so as not to break up the family. It was my son who demanded we separate, after he saw her having sex with his rugby coach in the club changing rooms.’
Suppressed laughter ripples around the court. Dryden waits for it to subside. ‘Mr Risborough, you were explaining why you decided to speak up now, about what happened in the house,’ she says.
‘My son needs me. I’m not leaving him on his own and going to jail for something Jules has done,’ Gideon said. ‘It’s bad enough for him as it is, what with his mother moving to London and refusing to see him.’
Several members of the jury look over at me. I’m now worse than a murderer, I’m a bad mother.
‘And so, to protect your son, you’ve decided to tell the truth. Despite your initial loyalty to your wife, your son comes first.’
‘That’s correct,’ he says in fractured tones.
Gideon nods and puts a hand to his face, as if suppressing tears. The jury are muttering. Brandon’s siblings switch their attention from Gideon to me. I can feel their gaze drilling into me.
I’m ready to convict myself.
Ralph stands up and adjusts his wig. He starts his cross-exam
ination by looking a little startled. ‘Mr Risborough, all this sudden, damning evidence against your estranged wife – the bleach, the car in the middle of the night, her violent temper – was never mentioned to the police.’
‘I’ve explained my reasons. Look, I’m old-fashioned enough to believe in my marriage vows.’
We had a civil ceremony with the minimal wording necessary for legal requirements. No loving or cherishing. No till death do us part.
‘So, your loyalty lay with your wife?’ Ralph says.
‘Yes.’
‘Until it was time to save your own neck.’
Gideon looks affronted and distressed. ‘I’m thinking about my son. Someone has to take care of him She walked out on him – on both of us.’
I cringe. Ralph’s made an error with this line of questioning. The jury will side with the wronged husband. He changes tack. ‘You pretend this is about loyalty, but what husband wouldn’t feel aggrieved at his wife’s infidelity? Who wouldn’t want revenge? I understand you already have another partner, a Mrs Jane Middlefield.’
‘I can’t see why that’s relevant.’
‘You met Mrs Middlefield two years before the separation with Ms Winter.’
‘Yes, but we never—’
‘You regularly went to her house to help with DIY, the garden and’ – Ralph pauses to give his last statement a comic note – ‘unblocking her drains.’
Members of the jury smirk.
Gideon’s jaw tenses. He can’t tolerate being laughed at. ‘I was being a good neighbour,’ he says.
‘Above and beyond, I’d say,’ Ralph replies.
This raises a titter from a couple of men at the back of the jury.
‘That’ll do, Mr Williams,’ Judge Fleetwood says.
‘Apologies, your honour. Just a little “male banter”.’
Gideon’s breathing hard, trying to control his anger. He manages to conquer it and settle back into the role of the falsely accused. Did the jury gain a glimpse of what is apparent to me at all times, his simmering rage and his need to dominate every situation?
Ralph adopts a more benign attitude.
‘Before your separation, would you consider yourself a good husband, attentive, caring?’
The Verdict Page 25