His manner is petulant, like a schoolboy complaining to teacher. When it’s clear Fleetwood sees no reason to intervene, he says, ‘In fact, I’d forgotten the money until you mentioned it.’
‘Are we to believe that as a qualified accountant you were unable to follow the argument laid before the court about the money?’
‘No. I could, it’s only …’
Alan is straining not to look at Gideon again. He has to glue his eyes to the floor to prevent it.
‘You’re rather reliant on Mr Risborough, aren’t you?’ Ralph says. ‘And I don’t just mean at work.’
‘Not at all.’
‘You go on holiday together.’
‘We’re friends.’
‘It’s a bit of a one-way friendship though, isn’t it, Mr Johns?’
‘No.’
‘Mrs Jane Middlefield, Mr Risborough’s current girlfriend, weren’t you romantically involved with her before your boss stepped into the frame?’
Alan can’t stop himself this time. He looks at Gideon. ‘I … I …’
Alan’s barrister stands up. ‘Your honour, this is hardly of relevance to the case.’
Reluctantly, Fleetwood swivels his gaze from Alan to Ralph. ‘Your point, Mr Williams?’
‘My point, your honour, is that most men would take exception to their friend stealing away their partner. And “take exception” is to put it mildly.’
‘It wasn’t like that,’ Alan says.
Ralph turns back to Alan. ‘What was it like, Mr Johns?’
‘I liked Jane, but she was free to choose who she was with. I didn’t own her.’
This is Alan Johns, who once dismissed the entire female population of Guildford as slags.
‘And, of course, if she preferred Gideon …’ Alan continues.
‘This is something Mr Risborough explained to you?’
‘Yes. I mean no.’
‘Just as he explained what a terrible, violent and deceitful woman his wife is?’
‘I already knew that,’ Alan says.
‘Just as he had to explain your memory of an event twenty-four years ago, which you didn’t mention to the police during your interview and recalled for the first time in this courtroom today.’
‘No, not for the first time.’
‘Why did you mention none of this in your police interview?’
‘I … he … because …’
‘Because Gideon told you?’
Ralph waits for a reply. Alan looks around the court in hope of someone salvaging the situation. Gideon is staring at the royal coat of arms above the judge’s head, as if Alan is completely unknown to him. Ralph lets Alan stand with his mouth flapping for some moments. Blue hoody looks amused. Ralph allows it to continue for a few moments before he says, ‘Thank you, Mr Johns.’
Alan remains in the stand, his mouth open, but with no words coming out.
‘Thank you, Mr Johns,’ Judge Fleetwood repeats. ‘You may leave the witness stand.’
Without looking up, Alan trudges back to our glass cage. Gideon continues to stare at the coat of arms above the judge.
Chapter 57
1994 – Guildford
The phone in the hall was ringing incessantly. Julia tried to ignore it. None of her friends or family rang on Mondays and she didn’t want to run about the house acting as a human answerphone. The ringing stopped then started again. Each time she prayed for it to be the last and each time the ringing restarted. Either she answered it, or it would go on all evening. She hauled herself off her bed, went downstairs and picked up the receiver.
‘Is that Julia? It’s Ruth. I’ve been calling Jenny for hours. Is she not in?’
‘I’ve just got home,’ Julia said.
Not strictly true. She’d come home an hour ago and already eaten dinner. She hadn’t tried to find Genevieve, wanting to delay the unpleasant business of having to apologise.
‘Can you try to find her? I’m in London and it’s important we speak.’
‘I’ll check her room.’
‘I’ll call back in five minutes,’ Ruth said.
She wished she’d ignored the phone. Now she had to drag herself up to the attic, where she was sure Genevieve had a phone extension and could have answered if she’d wanted.
Julia tapped on the door. ‘Genevieve.’
No reply. She tapped again, louder this time. Still no response. She was about to go downstairs when she felt a draught under the door, bringing with it an unpleasant sweet-sour aroma. Genevieve must have left her window open. Rain was forecast for later, she’d better close it. She pushed the door open. The room was chill, far colder than Julia would have thought possible in August. She saw Genevieve on the bed and gasped. The little sidelight was on and cast an ugly shadow across her face. Rigor mortis had pulled it into a tortured grimace. Julia stepped next to the bed and knelt beside her, pulling her sleeve over her nose to mask the smell. A rivulet of vomit ran from Genevieve’s mouth and had seeped into the pillow – but her stomach had failed to expel enough to save her.
Some foolish memory of first-aid protocol made Julia reach forward to check for a pulse but she withdrew before making contact. The thought of touching Genevieve’s waxy skin revolted her. What was the point? No one could be more dead.
Julia stayed by the bed, very still and numb with disbelief. She kept looking to Genevieve’s face as if it were unreal – a trick of the light, she’d made a mistake. Each time the face appeared more gaunt and tortured.
The phone started ringing again. She had been right. Genevieve did have an extension in her room. It sat on the side table next to a glass and a pill bottle. The same one she’d seen last time, now empty. She sniffed the glass – vodka. Brandon’s words and perhaps Julia’s words had been too cruel. The pills and vodka, no longer enough to stop reality leaching into her life, had been used to end it. Had Julia done this to her? Would one kind word have saved her?
The stench was becoming unbearable. Julia felt her own stomach contract in revulsion. She wanted to leave the room.
The phone had stopped when she noticed an envelope, half concealed by the covers. Julia pulled it free. ‘Brandon’ was written on it in bold print. She pulled back the flap. It was stuffed with fifty-pound notes. Was this the forty-five thousand Ruth had spoken of? Had Genevieve been trying to bribe Brandon to stay? Julia placed it back on the bed and looked around the room.
Julia looked at her hands. She turned and intertwined her fingers in indecision. The phone started ringing again. She lifted the receiver and, immediately, slammed it back down. Brandon’s name stared up at her from the envelope. She snatched it and stuffed it down the side of the bed, before picking up the receiver and dialling 999.
Chapter 58
2017 – Dulwich, London
Julia ran into her house.
‘Sam,’ she shouted.
He had to be in his room. She raced upstairs and banged on his bedroom door.
‘Sam.’
No answer. She pushed the door open. The room was empty. She ran back downstairs and into the lounge.
Gideon was leaning against the sideboard, a tumbler of whisky in his hand. He stared and said nothing.
‘I didn’t realise you were back,’ Julia said.
He took a sip of whisky. ‘Sam’s not here,’ he said.
‘I’ll ring his mobile.’
‘And what makes you think he’ll answer?’ He dragged his mouth into a sneer. ‘Perhaps you failed to notice, but Sam seemed rather upset about stumbling upon you fucking his rugby coach.’
‘How long have you known about me and Hugh?’ Julia asked.
‘Please, you’re not being serious. Haven’t I always known everything about you, Julia?’
He was right. He had always found out her secrets, meet-ups with Pearl and Andre, the yearly bonus paid to a separate account. Why had she thought she could get away with an affair? Maybe she hadn’t. Maybe she’d wanted him to know. She hadn’t exactly exercised discretion.
‘You drove Sam there deliberately, to find us,’ she said.
‘Isn’t it better he knows what his mother’s really like? Though I must admit, I was surprised,’ he said. ‘I always had you down as frigid.’
‘Look—’
‘It’s Sam I’m worried about. It can’t be very pleasant seeing his mother at it. Most men’s stomachs would turn at the sight, as it is.’
‘So, you don’t care yourself, about me and Hugh?’
He laughed. ‘Good luck to the bloke. Rather him than me.’
‘And you’ll speak to Sam?’
‘About what?’
‘Us.’
Gideon rolled the whisky around the tumbler. ‘And what exactly am I meant to tell him about us?’
‘That what he saw was upsetting. But nothing’s changed. We can live our separate lives. There’s no need for us to be enemies.’
‘I said, I don’t care about you screwing someone else. I didn’t say it was OK to humiliate me and embarrass our son.’
‘You drove him there. You set the whole thing up.’
‘Sam had left some kit at the clubhouse.’ He smirked.
‘Bullshit.’
‘In the changing rooms, Julia. Always so classy. You know, if you’d been discreet …’
‘He’s the first. The first in twenty years. Don’t tell me you’ve never strayed. What about you and Jane?’
He ignored her statement. ‘You’ll have to move out,’ he said. ‘Sam will stay here. I won’t humiliate you by asking him who he’d prefer to live with.’
She looked to the floor. Why hadn’t Gideon died in that accident?
He put the glass down and picked up a jacket thrown across the sofa.
‘I’m going out,’ he said.
He walked towards the door. When he was just parallel to Julia, he grabbed her arm. He dug his fingers in so hard she cried out.
‘You’ll leave me the house and savings without a fuss. Do you understand?’
His grip tightened and she cried out in pain.
‘Don’t cross me when it comes to money.’ His voice was barely above a whisper. ‘You know what I’m capable of, don’t you?’
He dug his fingers in harder. So hard, Julia thought she would faint.
‘Yes,’ she gasped.
He let go and headed for the front door. ‘I’ve told Sam to go and stay at Alan’s tonight. I’ll be back around twelve. You better be gone by then.’
He shut the door behind him, with no more force than if he were heading for a day at the office.
Julia backed out of the lounge and sat on the hall stairs. In five hours, she had to be gone. Her arm was throbbing. She leant her head against the bannister. Gideon had outmanoeuvred her.
She would have to start her life again, without her son and with no money.
Chapter 59
2018 – Guildford Crown Court
I’m shaking so much at the thought of giving evidence, I think about backing out.
‘Perhaps I should just plead guilty to manslaughter,’ I tell Ralph in the break.
‘The CPS would never accept it. The man’s head was crushed,’ he says. ‘Stick to what we’ve agreed, or you’ll be convicted of murder and Gideon will walk free.’
‘If I told the jury what they did—’
‘They wouldn’t believe you. Not now. It’s you or Gideon. Survival of the fittest, or most convincing.’
I’ve lost before I’ve started. Gideon’s manoeuvres have been planned years in advance, I’m an amateur. But I’m also a mother. Sam is not going to have Gideon as his sole parent. Survival of the fittest – the ability to adapt. I’ve watched and learnt for enough years, an amateur maybe, but a knowledgeable one.
I take the religious oath. Audrey wouldn’t forgive me if I did otherwise. I try to remember what Ralph told me: address the jury, state my recollections calmly, don’t be tempted to embroider or fill in gaps. The simple explanation is the most plausible. Ralph pulls his gown to sit level on his shoulders. He looks at his notes for a moment. I take the opportunity to look across the court. Sam has returned to the public gallery. He’s looks at me intently. I shouldn’t stare at him, but I can’t help it. He gives me the faintest nod.
Ralph shuffles his papers and coughs. ‘Ms Winter, would you tell the court what you remember of the events surrounding your departure from Guildford.’
‘It was very muddled,’ I say. ‘The whole thing was overshadowed by Genevieve’s suicide. I was the one who found her, you see. I couldn’t get the image of her face out of my head. After that I was hardly at the house. I spent as much time as I could with my friends in London.’
‘And the August bank holiday, 1994. Do you recall where you were?’
‘Honestly, it’s so long ago, I don’t remember what I did that weekend. But I doubt I would have spent three days off work at the house. I think I only stayed there a few times after Genevieve’s death. I gave my notice in at work. I wanted to get away.’
‘And after you vacated Downsview Villa?’
‘I took over a room from my friend, Pearl. It was in a shared house in Archway, London.’
‘And did you find another job?’
‘Not in software development, which I had been doing in Guildford. I was a receptionist by day and in the evening I worked in a pub.’
‘Two jobs, so money was tight?’
‘I had savings from when I was living at home with my parents. But I didn’t want to touch them. I hoped to get a better job and buy a flat someday.’
Ralph prepared me for this gentle preamble; it’s meant to relax me, before we move on to more delicate matters.
‘You say you wanted to forget everything associated with Downsview Villa, yet you reconnected with Gideon Risborough. How did that come about?’
‘He visited me once in London.’
‘What reason did he give?’
‘He said he was in the area. The real reason was to warn me that a private investigator was asking questions about Brandon. That was the first time I knew his family were looking for him.’
‘You had no idea in Guildford?’
‘I knew he’d gone away. At the time it didn’t seem particularly important. I assumed he’d moved on elsewhere – he was a backpacker.’
‘Why do you think Mr Risborough wanted to talk to you about the private investigator?’
‘Looking back, I can see he wanted to check on what I’d told Michael Lancaster, to make sure I’d not said anything that didn’t tally with his version of events.’
‘And when did you see Mr Risborough again?’ Ralph asks.
‘After I moved back in with my mother. I was unwell and couldn’t work.’
Ralph stops and checks I’m ready for this, giving me an encouraging smile.
‘This must be painful for you, but would you tell the jury why you were ill, and what happened? Was your suicide attempt down to guilt, as Mr Risborough maintains?’
Sam is watching. I can’t raise my eyes. I shouldn’t do this to my son.
‘Genevieve’s death hit me hard. Harder than I realised. I’d never seen a dead body before. Her face was horrifying, all twisted like she’d been frightened to death. I kept seeing it everywhere. I was exhausted through work and I felt I had no one to turn to.’ I can feel Audrey’s eyes upon me. ‘I feel dreadful now, knowing how much it hurt my mother, but I tried to kill myself.’
I’m aware of the court’s sudden stillness. Its eyes resting upon me, interpreting the slightest expression or hand gesture as a pointer to guilt or innocence.
‘I was going to jump from Hornsey Lane Bridge. Fortunately, two women stopped me. My mother came to fetch me from the hospital and took me home.’
I can’t tell the court that Gideon was there, on that bridge, silently wishing me success. Who would believe me?
‘And it was while you were recuperating at your mother’s that Mr Risborough contacted you again?’ Ralph asks.
‘At first, I didn’t wa
nt to see him. He reminded me of everything that had happened. But then I thought it would be better to be with someone who understood what I’d been through and, to start with, he was kind.’
‘And later?’
I look down. Please, Sam, leave the court.
‘Ms Winter, I’m sorry, you need to answer the question.’
‘Later I realised I’d made a mistake,’ I say. ‘I shouldn’t have made any important decisions when I wasn’t myself. Gideon wanted to get married and he encouraged me to go back into software development. I thought he was supportive of my career, when he only wanted someone to fund his lifestyle. The money I’d saved for the flat we used to buy a house, far too big for what we needed, but Gideon insisted. My pay went to a joint account, but only he had a card. Then he found out from one of my colleagues that I received a yearly bonus, which used to be paid into a separate account. I’ve rarely seen him so angry. He insisted I close the account and made me show him all my payslips after that.’
‘Why didn’t you just leave?’ Ralph asks.
‘He said he’d take Sam away from me. No court would give custody to a fruitcake who’d already tried to kill herself once. Who never bonded with her child and spent as little time with him as possible. That wasn’t true. I spent as much time as I could with Sam, but I had to work so hard. Sam and I were close until, well, until my mistake.’ I look at Sam but can’t hold his gaze. ‘Also, I was scared of Gideon.’
Two jurors on the front row, a man and a woman, whisper something to each other.
‘Was your husband ever violent?’ Ralph asks.
‘No.’
‘Then why were you scared?’
‘If you knew him, what he could be like, you’d understand. He’d never shout, or even raise his voice, he’d just say the most terrible things as if it was an everyday conversation. People always thought he was so charming. I think I’m the only person, apart from Alan, who knows what he’s capable of.’
‘Meaning?’
I’ve started shaking. I have to take some deep breaths to calm myself. ‘Until the police came to my work and told me he was dead, I hadn’t believed what Gideon told me about Brandon. I thought he’d been using it to add weight to his threats. But I did know he’d threatened both an ex-girlfriend and a man who owed him money.’
The Verdict Page 27