Greyfriars House

by Emma Fraser

  ‘Of course.’

  Georgina disappeared into the hall while I remained, still too stunned to move, in my chair.

  I did my best to hide my astonishment when Edith appeared, leading a young woman by the hand. A pale, moon-shaped face was framed by thick black, plaited hair, a braid of which hung over a shoulder. Her almond eyes were a deep brown, her full, beautifully shaped mouth red-lipped. She was shorter than Georgina and Edith and a little overweight. She wore a skirt that came to her knee and a white blouse. Heartbreakingly, she clutched a clearly well-loved teddy to her chest. There was no mistaking her Japanese heritage. Or the fact she had Down’s.

  She gave me a hesitant smile, half-hiding behind Georgina and Edith.

  ‘This is Charlotte, Mary,’ Georgina said with a reassuring smile. ‘Remember I told you about her?’ She gave her daughter a gentle shove in my direction. ‘Shake hands. Just as I showed you.’

  I had risen to my feet when I heard them coming and I smiled, trying my best to reassure the child-woman in front of me. I held out my hand. ‘I am very pleased to meet you, Mary. Aunt Georgina has told me a lot about you.’

  My head was still spinning. If what Georgina had told me was true, and although I was finding it difficult to accept I saw no reason why it wouldn’t be, I was the first person Mary had ever met apart from her mother and her aunt.

  Mary took my hand and held it briefly. ‘How do you do?’ Her voice sounded exactly like Edith’s and Georgina’s albeit a little thick and slurred.

  ‘Sit over here, my dear,’ Georgina said to Mary, leading her towards the sofa. My aunts sat on either side of her.

  I sank back into the chair, hardly able to take my eyes off the three of them.

  We spent the next hour together, the four of us. I still wasn’t sure what they expected of me, what help could I possibly offer them, or assurances? If something happened to Georgina and Edith did they really intend for me to take Mary to live with me in London?

  As we chatted I looked at my aunts, seated on either side of Mary like two fierce, but loving guardian angels. They had done the best they could to salvage some sort of life for themselves and Mary. Whatever the rights and wrongs of the situation, I had no doubt that the life Mary had at Greyfriars would have been far happier than if she’d been raised in Edinburgh, possibly confined to some institution and staring at bleak hospital walls. Here at least she had had fresh air, freedom and, most importantly, the love and protection of Georgina and Edith.

  I thought about love in all its forms. The love of a mother for her daughter – of a daughter for a mother – sister for brother – a father for his child – and that fierce need to protect those we love. I thought of Lucy and her father’s fury and despair that he couldn’t protect her – of Susan Curtis – what she did to protect her child. I thought of the women in the camp, the selfless acts of love and sacrifice, most of all the love of my two great-aunts who’d sacrificed so much for each other and for their child – for Mary was as much Edith’s as she was Georgina’s. Whatever wrong I’d imagined they’d done to Mum had been explained and what they were asking of me was so little. Surely I could find room in my life for Mary? And Edith and Georgina too.

  Finally I thought about Jamie. Although I’d only known him a short while I knew everything about him I needed to. I had been scared of getting hurt, I could admit that now, and even more frightened of having my life turned upside down. Yet, despite my best attempts to resist, it had been turned upside down and would likely become more so over the next months and years. I wanted him to be part of that new life. Whatever there was between us might not last but I had to take that chance.

  When Edith stood to take Mary back upstairs, I turned to Georgina. ‘I’m going to go over to Balcreen for a little while. I’ll be back later this evening.’

  Alarm flashed in Georgina’s eyes.

  ‘Don’t worry.’ I laid a hand on her arm. ‘I won’t do anything to harm any of you. You have trusted me so far, please keep that trust.’ I couldn’t promise her I would keep their secret – how could I? But I needed time to think.

  Most of all, I needed to see Jamie.

  Chapter Forty-Five

  I rowed over to Balcreen with Tiger in her familiar place in the prow. The sun was warm on my face yet I felt chilled to the bone. I walked quickly towards Jamie’s house, Tiger at my heels, for once not running off to explore as if she sensed my driving need to reach our destination.

  Jamie looked surprised when he opened the door but before he could say anything, I stepped into his arms.

  ‘What is it?’ he murmured into my hair. ‘You’re shaking.’ He led me across to the sofa and, without saying any more, simply held me for a long time.

  ‘What I’m going to tell you, you must promise to keep to yourself – for now,’ I said eventually. ‘At least until I’ve thought about how to make things right.’

  I told him everything, about the camps, about the Japanese officer, what Georgina did for Edith, and finally I told him about Mary. He listened in silence.

  ‘She’s been living with them all this time? All these years and no one knew?’

  ‘As far as I’m aware.’

  ‘What are you going to do?’

  ‘There has to be a way of sorting it out. I can’t be sure whether they committed a crime or not. Even if they did, I can’t imagine it’s in anyone’s interests to prosecute two elderly ladies. What would happen to Mary then? She’s completely used to living at Greyfriars with no contact with the outside world.’ I drew back so I could see his face. ‘I’m sure I can speak to someone at the Fisc’s office in Edinburgh and come to some arrangement.’

  ‘What about the commandant? Do you think he’s still alive? Do you think he was ever made to answer for what he did?’ Jamie asked.

  I was silent for a while. ‘Do you think it matters? Do you think it’s better if the truth is always exposed? Or, could there be instances where it is better that the truth is allowed to remain buried?’

  He frowned. ‘Are we still talking about Mary here?’

  ‘I’m not altogether sure. Perhaps I shouldn’t have told you. Now I’ve made you complicit.’

  ‘You can trust me.’ He pulled me close again. ‘You can trust me with anything – even your life.’ He laughed self-consciously. ‘God, for a Scottish man to say something so sickly sweet.’

  ‘I rather like it.’ My voice was hoarse.

  ‘I meant it. I have never met anyone since Gillian died who makes me feel the way you do.’

  ‘You must have loved her very much.’

  ‘I did. For years she was my world and part of me will always love her. I never imagined I’d fall in love again.’ He grinned suddenly. ‘Least of all with a defence barrister.’

  ‘Don’t…’ I covered his lips with my fingertips. The need to talk about Lucy was suddenly intense, maybe because of what Georgina had told me, or because I didn’t know whether Jamie could still love me after he knew what I had done to Lucy. And perhaps because of the Guthrie family motto. “We Stand for Truth.” If our relationship was to go anywhere, it had to start and continue with the truth.

  ‘There’s something I need to tell you.’

  ‘I’m listening.’ He took my hand. ‘What is it?’ The wind had risen while we’d been talking and rattled the window panes. I took a deep breath.

  ‘As I told you the other day, when I was first called to the bar I took on more than my fair share of rape cases – although I hated doing them. I loathed defending men accused of rape and as soon as I became popular with solicitors and began to get a stream of other cases, I refused to take them on.’

  Jamie was watching me intently and I now knew how it must have felt for Georgina to confess her so-called sins to me. As if I were judge and jury.

  ‘I wouldn’t have accepted this case either if it weren’t for two things. Firstly, the accused’s father was a long-standing client of Lambert and Lambert and secondly, one of my cases had been delayed for
a psychiatric assessment and I was the only barrister free in chambers. I was also the only woman. Solicitors always prefer women barristers to defend their clients when they’re accused of rape.

  ‘I didn’t take to Simon. I knew his type. There were plenty of older versions of him in chambers. Men who thought their privileged background gave them the right to do as they pleased. Who thought women like Lucy should be grateful to be noticed by them. But I don’t expect to like my clients, I don’t even have to believe in their innocence; my job is to defend them and to ensure they get a fair trial. It’s the prosecutor’s job to prove guilt and mine to ensure that they do.

  ‘Lucy Corrigle was a first-year student at Imperial College in London. She’d come there from a small village in Northern Ireland and had been the first of her family to go to university. Her father was an electrician and her mother a clerkess in a hospital and Lucy, their middle child, was their only daughter. She was exceptionally bright. The family believed wholeheartedly in Thatcher’s Britain. Lucy would go to university to study politics – get a first and go on to make her family even prouder. It hadn’t worked out like that. Lucy had felt awkward at university, and socially out of her depth. It wasn’t just that; her strong northern Irish accent, her clothes, everything had felt wrong, made her feel conspicuous and uncomfortable. As you know, the IRA have made a proportion of the population suspicious of the Irish and their allegiance to the Union. But she was determined to make the most of the opportunity she’d been given. She put her head down and studied. Nevertheless, she’d looked on the social life her fellow undergrads were leading with envy and a deep-rooted belief that if only she tried harder they’d accept her. So when Simon had invited her to a party she’d decided to go. She’d seen him with his sister, Cassie, who was in one of her tutorials. Cassie was everything Lucy wanted to be; confident, popular and wealthy.

  ‘Lucy had drunk some cider before she’d left her rooms – something God help me, I made much of during the trial.

  ‘In the course of the party, feeling increasingly awkward, she’d drunk more and was just about to leave when Simon approached her. They’d ending up kissing and Simon had suggested they go somewhere quieter. She’d thought he meant outside, but instead he’d taken her to his room. She knew Cassie, not well, but enough to make her feel safe with Simon.’

  An image of the court room came flooding back. Lucy, her face pale and drawn in the witness box, never looking at Simon as the prosecuting counsel took her through her story. Despite everything she’d remained composed. Or at least had up until the point I’d stood to cross-examine her.

  ‘Gone willingly,’ I continued now. ‘As I’d told the jury. There was no coercion. She must have known what Simon expected to happen.

  ‘Except she claimed she hadn’t. She said they’d only been in his room a few minutes before he started kissing her and making it clear that he wanted to have sex. She claimed she’d said no but he wouldn’t listen. That he forced himself on top of her, and raped her. I could see the jury looking at Simon and then at Lucy. He was handsome, obviously someone who would have no difficulty attracting women, while Lucy was plain and I hate to say, dowdy on the stand. Rape victims often resort to making themselves look as unattractive as possible – I knew that but the jury didn’t. He said it was consensual. That she was all over him. That it was only when it was all over and she’d sobered up that she’d felt ashamed and had cried rape.’

  I fell silent and it was a while before I could speak again. ‘I asked her if she’d been a virgin up to this point. She said yes. But I produced hospital records that showed that she’d had an abortion the year before. She was Catholic and her parents hadn’t known about the pregnancy. It was as if I’d raped her all over again by forcing her to admit that. I found all this out and I used it against her. I kept telling myself she’d lied about being a virgin, why wouldn’t she lie about everything else? It was her word against his. The forensics was inconclusive. There was some bruising around the vaginal area but that could be explained away by rough sex.’

  I sighed and my voice caught. ‘I was a triumph. I destroyed Lucy on the stand, Simon was found not guilty. Lucy never returned to university. A few weeks later Lucy tried to kill herself.’

  Jamie didn’t tell me that I was only doing my job, or that Simon could have been innocent, instead he slipped an arm around my shoulder and pulled me into him.

  I took another deep breath. ‘The day of the Curtis trial, Lucy’s father was waiting for me when I left the Chambers. He hit me. He was furious and distraught. He shouted at me that Lucy had tried to take her own life – that I had made her feel that she’d nothing left to live for – and that Simon had raped before. The victim had reported it to the police but withdrawn her statement before it came to court. When she heard about Lucy she began to have second thoughts. She sat through Lucy’s trial but when she saw what I put Lucy through, she decided her initial decision had been correct. She did however tell Lucy that Simon had raped her too.

  ‘If I had been representing Lucy I would have delved deeper into Simon’s history. The abrasions of Lucy’s vagina might have been caused by rough sex but they were more likely to have been the result of rape. I would have double checked to see whether there had ever been other allegations against Simon.

  ‘I tried to make it right. When I discovered there was potentially another victim, I persuaded Sophie, my pupil, to approach a prosecutor friend of hers, and to ask whether a complaint had ever been made – even though I knew I was taking advantage of my position as her pupil master by asking her to do so. We both knew she’d be crossing a professional boundary by even asking – let alone getting a name from her colleague of the other, alleged victim. But Sophie did as I asked and there had been a complaint – but because the victim had withdrawn her statement, it had never been taken any further. Sophie gave me the name but refused, quite rightly, to do any more. I wasn’t sure what to do with the information and besides, I was too caught up with Mum being ill.

  ‘Giles, my head of chambers found out that I’d asked Sophie to look into this other allegation and was, quite rightly furious. He told me to take some time off and reconsider my position. If Simon’s father discovered I was actively seeking evidence against his son, there was every chance he’d sue. At the very least he’d take his not inconsiderable business away from Lambert and Lambert. Moreover, if the Law Society finds out what I did I might lose the right to practice.’ My voice hitched. ‘I went into law because I wanted to defend the weak and the defenceless. Instead I destroyed a young woman and even worse, I allowed a man to go free who could and probably will, rape again and I’m powerless to stop him.’

  Jamie brushed a lock of hair from my face. ‘You’re crying.’ He gathered me into his arms and before I knew it I was in his lap, my cheek pressed to the rough wool of his pullover and I was crying in earnest. For Mum, for Georgina, Edith and Mary. For Lucy and for all I hadn’t done.

  When my sobs had eased he held me at arm’s length and looked me in the eye. ‘So, my love, what are you going to do about it?’

  Later, as we lay in bed together, Jamie’s arms around me, my head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart, I knew something inside me had changed. I felt purged and vulnerable and embarrassed – all three. But most of all, I no longer felt alone. I’d exposed myself completely and he hadn’t turned away from me. I didn’t have to be perfect.

  A splatter of rain hit the windows like tiny bullets. The weather had changed in that sudden way it was prone to do on the west coast and I knew I should return to Greyfriars before the storm took hold. But there was something I needed to do first. I’d been lily-livered, caring too much about my career. I knew what I had to do to make things right – although I would have to dig deep to find some of the courage my aunts had shown.

  Reluctantly, I threw the covers aside. ‘I need to go.’

  He smiled sleepily and reached out for me. ‘Stay the night.’

  I kis
sed him quickly, tempted, but knowing there would be other nights. Hopefully many of them.

  Leaving Jamie’s, I noticed a familiar figure sitting on the bench, looking across the sea, apparently oblivious to the wind and drizzle. From where the bench was positioned I could see the top of Greyfriars turret. I recalled Jamie telling me that Findlay came here every day like clockwork. He had to still care for Edith. It was the only thing that made sense. Findlay didn’t look at me when I sat down next to him. Not even when Baxter and Tiger greeted each other playfully. I had some half-baked notion that perhaps there was still a chance I could bring them back together. That some happiness was still possible for Edith.

  ‘You’re still here then,’ he said without looking up. The air was so thick as the storm approached.

  ‘Looks like it. As you are. I heard you come here every day, to sit on this bench. Is it anything to do with Edith?’