‘Apparently there were plenty of fingerprints on the brass cat that she used to batter him and they could tell from the wounds on his head that he’d been hit multiple times. The shape of the cat matched the fuckin’ big hole in his head too.’
‘Shit!’ said David. ‘I hope things go her way at the trial.’
‘I hope so too,’ said Peter. ‘But don’t hold your fuckin’ breath.’
He was seriously worried. Things were looking bad for Adele and her brief would have his work cut out. But there was something else that was secretly bothering Peter; the possibility that even at this stage she could implicate him. Still, she’d kept her word up till now so he could only hope she didn’t cave in at the trial.
*
Adele had had plenty of time to reflect since the police had charged her for the death of her father. She still replayed the scene over in her head, wondering if there was anything she could have done differently. Perhaps she shouldn’t have goaded him. She could have taken a step back at any point but she hadn’t. A force within her had taken over and now she had to bear the consequences.
It was as though a strange calm had come over her now that she had accepted what she had done. The worst had happened; she had killed her father and been charged, and now she was awaiting trial. It didn’t get much worse. She knew she would go to prison for what she had done, but she had come to terms with it. Although she was frightened, she would deal with the situation as best she could.
In the hours in which she had mulled over the situation in her mind, she’d also thought about her future. All her life she had struggled to rise above her circumstances. And she had done well, all things considered. She’d got herself a good job and a wonderful boyfriend. But now she’d thrown it all away. She was a common criminal; no better than Peter and his friends.
At first she had avoided seeing her mother. She’d heard from Peter how badly Shirley had taken the news, and Adele didn’t feel up to facing her. Shirley had sent a message with Peter telling her to stay away. But Adele couldn’t stay away forever; she felt she had to face her mother eventually. And now she was ready.
When Adele arrived at her mother’s home, she felt everyone’s eyes on her, saw curtains twitch and children stop playing while they gawked at her. Some even ran back indoors. But Adele stood tall outside her mother’s front door and took a deep breath before going inside.
‘Oh, it’s you,’ said Shirley who was sitting in the kitchen drinking tea with one of her neighbours. ‘I sent a message for you not to come here if what Peter told me is true.’
Shirley seemed to gain strength from the presence of her neighbour but when a painful silence followed Shirley’s words, the neighbour announced that she had to go home. She gave Adele a scornful look before stomping out of the house through the back door.
‘I needed to see you,’ said Adele.
She pulled up a chair, and noticed how her mother flinched as she sat down next to her.
‘Is it not true?’ asked Shirley, her eyes filling with tears and her hands gripping her mug of tea. ‘Is that why you’ve come here; to tell me you didn’t do it?’
‘I can’t discuss it, Mam. Not until after the trial anyway. My solicitor’s told me not to.’
‘But I’m yer mam. Surely you can put my mind at ease?’ Shirley’s tears flowed freely as she grabbed Adele by the wrist. ‘Surely you wouldn’t do a horrible thing like that, love?’ She then gulped and took several seconds trying to calm down before she said, ‘The police said his head was a mess.’ Her voice broke on the last word and, as she bowed her head forward, a fat tear dripped into her tea, making a plopping sound.
Adele kept her gaze fixed on the mug of tea, trying to postpone the painful confrontation that was bound to follow. Her mother wanted answers and Adele felt obliged to give them despite her earlier resolve not to say anything.
She needed to justify her actions and was about to tell her mother how it had happened but, before she could speak, Shirley sobbed, ‘Who would do a bloody awful thing like that, Adele? His head was smashed in, for God’s sake! Why did the police charge you? Surely you wouldn’t do something like that.’
Adele spoke slowly, the words jarring in her throat, but even as she spoke them, they didn’t sound convincing. ‘It was self-defence, Mam. I didn’t have a choice.’
Shirley looked up and drew her hand away from Adele’s as though it was contaminated. ‘So you did do it?’ she asked, backing away in her seat.
‘He was strangling me, Mam. He was hurting me… You know what he was like,’ she pleaded.
Shirley stood up and moved away from where Adele was sitting. Drawing courage from the distance she had placed between them, she yelled, ‘Get out!’
‘Mam, have you forgotten what he did to you?’
‘I said, get out! He might have been a bit free with his fists at times but he would never have done what you did. You disgust me!’
‘But, Mam.’
‘You’ve taken my husband from me and I can never forgive you for that! Now, please go, Adele. I don’t want you here.’
‘Mam, I told you it was self-defence.’
‘I don’t care!’ Shirley shouted, becoming hysterical. ‘No matter what he did, he didn’t deserve to die like that. What you did was sick!’
Shirley’s bitter words cut through Adele and left her reeling. She was shocked at her mother’s strength of feeling. Although Adele felt remorseful for what she had done, she also felt betrayed. Yes, what she did was wrong. She knew that. And if she could turn the clock back, she would do. But she’d done it for her mother. For years she had tried to protect her. Yet here she was ordering her to leave her home out of some sense of misguided loyalty.
Adele attempted to speak again but no words came. There was no point in pleading with her mother any more.
The neighbour dashed back into the house. Adele got the impression she had been listening close by. She rushed to Shirley and took her into her arms, smoothing her hair and patting her back alternately. By this time Shirley was sobbing profusely.
The neighbour locked eyes with Adele. ‘I think you’d better go,’ she murmured. ‘She’s in a state and you being here is only making her worse.’
Adele nodded silently, her own tears now flowing. Then she left her childhood home, wondering if it was for the last time.
Chapter 52
It was several months later and Adele was being tried for the manslaughter of her father, at Manchester Crown Court. In the months since she had been charged, Adele had come to terms with what she had done. Although she was still afraid of what lay ahead, she was determined to stay positive and strong.
It helped having a brother who had spent time inside. Peter had spent many hours coaching her on how to handle life behind bars, just in case she was found guilty.
Adele watched her mother take the stand. She was surprised at her appearance. Although she appeared timid and out of place, as Adele would have expected, it was her clothing that stood out to her. She was wearing a well-fitting cream trouser suit with matching top, and her hair looked recently washed, although it still hung about her shoulders in limp strands. Adele wasn’t used to seeing her mother look so smart. She would have been touched if it wasn’t for the reason why she was taking the stand.
Her mother was a witness for the prosecution.
‘Hello, Mrs Robinson,’ the prosecutor began. ‘I realise how distressing this must be for you but I’d like you to start by taking me back to when you first realised your husband was missing.’
‘It was when I came back from the hospital,’ she said, her shoulders stooped and her voice barely audible.
‘I know this must be difficult, Mrs Robinson, but if you could please speak up and address your replies to the jury, I would be grateful.
Shirley raised her head, the look on her face one of absolute terror. ‘It was when I came back from the hospital,’ she repeated.
The prosecution barrister consulted some notes. �
�Would that be on Wednesday 24th August 1983?’
‘Yeah, I think so,’ said Shirley.
‘The hospital records show that Wednesday 24th August was the day you were discharged,’ said the prosecutor.
‘Yes, that’s right then,’ said Shirley.
‘And what did you notice on your return from hospital?’
‘Well, Tommy wasn’t home and I thought he’d be there because I’d just come out of hospital.’
‘Anything else, Mrs Robinson?’
‘Yeah, the rug was missing, and the brass cat. I couldn’t understand it.’
‘Was that all or did you notice anything else? Any strange smells for instance?’
‘Oh yeah,’ said Shirley. ‘There was a strong smell of disinfectant.’
There was a rising din amongst the public gallery and Adele noticed one of the jurors lean over and whisper something to the person sitting next to her. The judge called for order so that the prosecution barrister could continue examining his witness.
‘And who was with you when you returned from hospital?’
‘Adele,’ said Shirley.
‘Adele Robinson, your daughter, do you mean?’
‘Yes,’ replied Shirley, her voice dropping once more.
‘Could you please speak up, Mrs Robinson, and tell the jury how Adele Robinson reacted when she noticed the missing items? Was she shocked?’
‘Not really. She didn’t seem too bothered. She said summat about it probably being to do with the neighbours.’
There were further whispers from the public gallery and the prosecutor waited for them to subside before continuing.
‘And what happened next, Mrs Robinson?’
‘Well, our Adele went home and I waited up for Tommy. I thought maybe he’d just gone for a few drinks.’
‘Then what did you do?’
‘I rang Adele and told her he hadn’t come home.’
‘What time was this?’
‘After the pubs shut. Getting on for twelve, I think.’
‘And what was her reaction?’
‘She told me to wait till the next day and then she’d come round.’
‘And what happened on the following day, Thursday 25th August, Mrs Robinson?’
‘I rang our Adele and she came round… Oh no, hang on… our Peter came round first, after I’d rung Adele.’
‘Did you think that was a bit strange?’
‘Yeah, I’d not seen him for ages. Him and his dad had had a bit of a falling-out.’
Again there were whispers amongst the public gallery. Adele noticed the faces of most of the jury; they were fixed on her mother, engrossed in what was being revealed.
‘So, what do you think prompted your son to put in an appearance?’
‘He said our Adele had rung him.’
‘Very well,’ said the prosecutor, pausing to give the jury chance to absorb this piece of information.
‘Can you tell us what happened next, Mrs Robinson?’
‘Yeah, Adele… no, no Peter it was. He said we should check the local pubs to see if anyone had seen him.’
‘Seen who? Your husband, Mrs Robinson?’
‘Tommy, yeah,’ Shirley replied faintly.
‘And then what?’
‘Adele came back, said no one had seen him. And then she called the police to report him missing.’
As Shirley finished speaking, Adele could see the tears welling up in her eyes. She gazed across at the jury and saw the expressions of concern on their faces. They’d noticed her mother’s tears too.
‘Very well,’ said the prosecutor. ‘That will be all for now.’
*
By the time Peter was called to the stand, Adele was thankful that at least somebody seemed to be on her side. She’d managed to keep the police off his trail, even though they had asked her repeatedly who had helped to shift the body, and Adele knew Peter was grateful to her. Like his mother, he was dressed smartly in a silver grey, stylish suit with fashionable wide lapels and a black T-shirt underneath but, unlike her, he exuded an air of confidence. Adele guessed that his confident air was probably all front, but nobody else would have known that.
Peter took the stand, his head held high and shoulders back as he gazed around the courtroom. His eyes lingered on the jury until the defence barrister addressed him and began his questioning. Peter seemed to be doing well until the prosecution barrister cross-examined him.
‘Mr Robinson, isn’t it true that you were convicted of burglary and…’
‘Objection!’ cried the defence barrister, rising from his seat.
The judge allowed the objection and asked the prosecution not to make reference to Peter’s criminal record. But the damage had already been done.
Adele had a sinking feeling. Despite the judge’s words, the jury now knew that Peter had a criminal record. In their minds that made him an unreliable witness and they would probably dismiss everything he had said in her defence.
Chapter 53
It was now the last day of the trial. All the evidence had been presented to the jury; most of it was damning, although Adele’s solicitor had made a good attempt at defending her. Now all she could do was wait patiently for the verdict. The hours dragged and she did her best to occupy herself and try to stay calm.
When Adele was called back into court she felt her pulse quicken and a shiver ran down her spine despite the fact that she was sweating profusely. But she was determined not to lose control.
Adele had been preparing for this moment for the past few months. She took a few deep breaths to calm herself and tried to relax her tense muscles before she set off for the courtroom.
As the court official led Adele through the tiled corridors of the court, her footsteps echoed in tandem with her pounding heartbeat. She told herself that the trial would soon be over and then she would deal with the outcome, whatever the verdict was.
Adele entered the courtroom and noticed all eyes in the public gallery switch from the jury to her. She spotted John but his facial expression was impossible to read. He’d stuck by her up to now, convinced that the police had got it wrong and that she couldn’t possibly have killed her father. She hadn’t had the heart to tell him otherwise.
The judge addressed the jury and asked the foreman of the jury to stand up. Adele continued taking deep breaths, willing her frantic heartbeat to return to normal.
The judge’s next words echoed around the courtroom. ‘Ladies and gentleman of the jury, do you find the defendant guilty or not guilty of manslaughter?’
The foreman squared his shoulders and looked around him before delivering the verdict. ‘Guilty,’ he said, loud and clear as though proud of the fact that he was putting Adele behind bars.
Adele felt the impact of that one word, then a hissing in her ears. She became light-headed but fought to maintain control. Once more she spotted John in the public gallery. His facial expression flitted through a series of transitory phases. From shock, to disbelief, to something else she couldn’t quite fathom.
She then looked to Peter for support. His eyes met hers and, while the rest of the public gallery was in uproar, he stayed silent. The judge called for order so that he could pronounce sentence, and Adele braced herself. She kept her eyes locked on Peter waiting for his reaction as the judge spoke.
Adele’s heart was pounding. The blood was pumping fiercely around her body and her head felt fuzzy. She found it difficult to concentrate on the judge’s words. Everything was a blur, but she heard his most pertinent words: seven years’ imprisonment. Seven years!
Peter still held her gaze, his expression steely and determined. It was as though he was willing her to stay strong. She realised that, no matter what else happened, her brother was still on her side.
Her eyes flitted back to John whose face had changed again. She wasn’t sure whether his look was one of disgust or loathing. Either way, it wasn’t good. In that moment Adele knew that, unlike her brother, she had lost John and would probably n
ever see him again.
*
Once Adele had been taken away Peter and David remained seated amidst the din in the public gallery.
‘Shit!’ Peter kept repeating, even though the outcome wasn’t unexpected. ‘Seven fuckin’ years!’
‘Cheer up, mate. She probably won’t serve all of that if she keeps her nose clean.’
‘It’s still a fuckin’ long time! I just hope she can hack it.’
‘No fuckin’ choice now, has she, mate?’
Peter glared at David who quickly backtracked.
‘She’ll be all right. You’ve been preparing her, haven’t you?’
‘Yeah,’ sighed Peter. ‘Let’s just hope she keeps her cool and does as I told her. One sign of weakness and the other cons will be all over her. They’ll make her life a fuckin’ misery.’
‘Ain’t many gonna try it on with a violent killer though,’ said David. His comments were starting to annoy Peter.
‘She needs to use that to her fuckin’ advantage then, doesn’t she?’ A tense silence now stood between them. They left the courtroom and made their way to the nearest pub.
*
Adele blinked at the glare of the flashbulbs as she stepped outside the court. The press! They were everywhere.
As she was led to the waiting van, the crowd surged forward, hurling questions and taking snapshots. The insistent chatter and piercing light assailed her senses. Her accompanying officer bowed her head and two others flanked her then they plunged her into the van and locked the doors.
She glanced at the two women sitting across from her and attempted to make eye contact. But their hardened faces remained impassive, their vacant stares hovering somewhere in the middle distance.
Eventually, as the lengthy journey gave way to boredom, the women began to chat. Their conversation revolved around prison lifestyle, past experiences with the law and speculation about which prison they were being transported to. Adele tried to join in but as soon as the women found out it was her first crime, she instantly became a spectator to the conversation rather than a participant.
Born Bad Page 27