by Sarah Till
Even I, in my almost petrified state, knew what Julia should have said here. She should have explained that her purse had been there when I was in the shop, and that it was gone when I left, and that no one else had been in the shop. But hate does funny things to people. Hate and obsession. It sent my father mad. It sent my mother away from her children and into the arms of her lover. It made Andrew deny me. And now, it's making Julia boil herself up into a ball of hate-filled fury.
'Because she's a thief. You see her every day, walking behind people ready to steal out of their bags, her dirty clothes and her stinking hair. Do you know how bad she actually smells? And her feet are like Hobbits feet.' Those people who have grown a little bit bored with Julia's abuse perk up now and a titter goes around the room. I look at my feet, clad tightly in leather shoes. The policewoman looks at them to and smiles at me. 'She shits behind the bank and pisses in the sea. I'm sorry, but she's not fit to live.'
A collective gasp sounds out now. The judge sits up straight.
'Pardon? Did you say this lady is not fit to live?'
Julia is crying now.
'In Tintagel. That's what I mean. In Tintagel. It's lovely place and she's a piece of rubbish making it untidy.'
The judge looks at the jury, who all look shocked.
'Mrs Scholes. This sounds like a personal vendetta. Has this case been brought based on that?'
Julia shouts now.
'No! She stole my purse. She spent money online on my credit card and she's assaulted me, just like I said in my statement. It's true I want her out of the village, but she took it. She did. It was in her trolley.'
My solicitor sifts through the witness reports.
'Hmm. That's funny. It doesn't say anywhere here that your purse was found in Lizzie's trolley. It says it was found on her person. How did you know it was in her trolley?'
I see Julia's husband shake his head.
'Someone must have told me. Anyway, where else would she keep it? With all the other stolen things, she even stole that trolley. It's from the supermarket. And all that stuff she's got on today, I bet she stole that too. I know her kind. People like her. Don't work for a living, live of the state, vagabonds and gypsies.'
The judge stands up
'I'm going to break for ten minutes to give Mrs Scholes a chance to calm down. Then we'll continue with reports.'
Julia is still shouting, her husband and solicitor tugging her from the witness box. She's straining to turn around and pointing at me.
'People like you, Lizzie Nelson, going round threatening me, murdering people. You'll see what you get.'
People like me. People like us.
CHAPTER 21
By the time the judge returns, Julia has quietened down and I have walked up and down the corridor behind the dock to stretch my legs. My feet are starting to hurt, unaccustomed to being captured in tight leather. I feel a blister forming on my ankle and look in my bag for a plaster, then realise I will have to take my tights off to apply it. I'm still reeling from my realisation about the Grail and my treasure, and I start to plan what I'm going to say to Mia, how I'm going to put this right. No time, because the jury is back, and we all sit down. The judge speaks.
'I'd like to warn the court that I will not endure any more shouting. Mrs Scholes, please control yourself.' I glance at Julia, who is clearly still angry. But she nods. 'Right. I've read the reports, which have been available to the jury and I will summarise. Mrs Nelson has been assessed for mental health issues and the psychologist found that she suffers from depression.' She turns to me. 'Lizzie, do you feel that you are depressed?'
I bow my head a little and feel butterflies in my stomach.
'I don't feel unhappy, your honour, not in general. Except about being accused of something I didn't do. But if the psychologist says I have depression, well, she's the expert.'
Julia whispers something to her husband and shakes her head. The clerk of court calls Alice, she is sworn in and Julia's solicitor stands up.
'Alice Taylor. So you are a friend of Lizzie's, are you?'
Alice smiles.
'Not a friend, exactly. I hardly know her. But I like to help her.'
He nods.
'Very noble, I'm sure. Are you aware that she has a criminal record?'
Alice shakes her head.
'No, no I wasn't. But I do know she didn't take Julia's purse. I was with her the whole time she was in the shop.'
He sighs theatrically.
'No further questions.'
My solicitor stands up.
'No questions, you honour.'
I breath quickly now. It must be my turn. I hear the clerk call me through my loud heartbeat. I stand and am sworn in. Julia's solicitor stands too.
'Mrs Nelson. How long have you lived in Tintagel?'
I swallow.
'About seven years.'
I think it's seven years. I panic a little.
'And we have witness reports to say that in this time you have lived at Coombes Cottage, and visited the main street most days, begging and hassling tourists.'
I sigh. So this is how he is going to try to discredit me.
'No. I don't beg. I've never asked anyone for anything.'
He flicks through the witness reports and makes a humph noise, then throws them on the bench beside him.
'Mrs Nelson. Was Mrs Scholes' purse found in your shopping trolley, hidden at the bottom?'
'Yes it was found in the trolley, but I don't know where abouts. The police found it.'
'Oh, the police. I see we have some officers here. The family liaison officers. Can you tell us a little about that?'
My solicitor stands.
'Objection. Not relevant. Although there is a further charge to be heard, this will be dealt with separately.'
The judge nods, but it's too late, the jury are already looking at Cheryl and Sam.
'OK. Mrs Nelson. Were you in Julia Scholes' shop on the day her purse was stolen?'
'Yes. And so was Alice. And I expect other people had been in there. But Alice left at the same time as me, so it could just as easily have been her. Not that I'm saying it was, Alice.'
He nods.
'Would you say that you were poverty stricken, living from supermarket skips and claiming benefits?'
I swallow again.
'Yes, but...'
'No further question, your honour.'
I can feel the perspiration running down my back, and I see Julia arguing with her husband. My solicitor stands up.
'Lizzie. I have just one question for you. Did you steal Julia Scholes purse?'
I look at the jury. They seem a friendly bunch, five women and seven men. They don't look repulsed by me, or ill at ease. Or even angry at me, like most people.
'No. I didn't. I'm not a thief.'
'Thank you Lizzie. No further questions, your honour.'
The judge looks at me and frowns.
'In summing up of this case, it seems to me that a matter of personal argument has been brought before the court. I'm very angry that this charge has been trumped up so as to merit Crown time and I would ask the jury to disregard the squabbling that has occurred. Mrs Scholes says that Mrs Nelson has stolen her purse, even though no one saw her do it. And Mrs Nelson says she didn't take it. I must admit that this case is so trivial that I cannot see why it has been brought at all. I have hardened criminals to deal with, but instead I am confronted by two women who don't get on. Please retire to consider your verdict.'
We all stand up and she leaves. I'm led down the corridor and into the hallway, where Alice and Dr Davison are waiting. Alice beams.
'You did fine, Lizzie. That went really well. And look at you!'
Dr Davison laughs.
'You look good, Lizzie. But you still need to come and see me. I received the psychologist report. I can help you.' We both look at my hands, which are shaking, and he pats my shoulder. 'It's OK, this will be over with in a while, then it's back to normal.'
/> I smile weakly.
'I'm sorry about your car, Alice. I wasn't feeling myself.'
She waves her hands.
'Never mind that. I just want to see you sorted out, Lizzie. I've been up to your cottage a few times, but you never seem to be there.'
I nod.
'Yes. I'm out a lot. Outside. I like the outdoors.'
We all look at each other. No one really has anything else to say, but Julia seems to be holding court at the other end of the corridor. I can't hear exactly what she is saying, but she's shouting. Her husband is shaking his head, and I can pick out the words 'obsessed' and 'this has to stop' from his part of the conversation. I sit down on a wooden bench while Dr Davison gets a cup of tea in a plastic cup, and Alice talks into her phone. My solicitor appears.
'Lizzie. That was very good. Very good indeed. I'm thinking you'll get away with it.'
I frown at him and tilt my head.
'But I didn't do it.'
He shrugs and smiles.
'Anyway. You should get a not guilty. Good work.'
He strides off and I sigh. He doesn't believe me. I've held it together quite well so far by not thinking too much about why it's come to this. Everything suddenly clicks into place and I realise that I am fooling no one, except possibly the jury. Certainly not myself. I feel my hair, short and curly, and feel naked. My feet are smarting and I start to think about Andrew and how this all started. Back, to John and Dad, Mum, and the stories. What was I really hoping to find here in Tintagel?
The court clerk appears and tells us to come back in. I follow my solicitor up the corridor and I stand in the dock. Everyone files back in, my numbness invisible but appalling. A few words are spoken, familiar to me from television drama even though I haven't watched TV for years. Then the tall, dark woman at the end of the jury is standing. I watch her mouth form the words in slow motion.
'Not guilty.'
I slump back in my seat, and the judge sighs. She starts to speak but her words are drowned out by Julia's shouts.
'No. No, I'm not having it. I'm not. She's terrorising our neighbourhood. She's ruining our community. She smells, really bad, and she's a tramp. Everywhere I look, she's there.' She leaves her seat now and runs to the centre of the courtroom, as near as she can get to me. She is staring at me, her face twisted. 'What I want to know is why you are here? Why Tintagel? Haven't you got a family, Friends? You're not from these parts. Why don't you go back to where you came from and leave us in peace?'
Peace. It echoes through the silent courtroom and ricochets around my brain, until I see red. Peace. Something I will never have. Why am I in Tintagel? Why?
'I'll tell you why.' I hear my low vowels, standing on their own. My harsh Manchester accent scraping at their Cornish drawl. 'I have to be here. I used to come here on my holidays with my Mam and Dad. And my sisters. And brothers. My Dad was obsessed with King Arthur, and the knights of the round table. And Morgana.'
Julia interrupts.
'Lots of people come here on holiday, but they don't all come back. We want our town just for us. Get back to your city life. You've got a family. You just said you had. Go back to them. We don't want you.'
My voice raises and I stand up.
'No one wants me. That's the problem. I'm alone. My son doesn't want to know, for some reason. I haven't always been like this, you know. I've had to live with things all my life, and it's got gradually worse until I'm only just surviving. Eating out of bins because I'm poor. Wearing thrown away clothes. And it's not like I've ruined my own life. I haven't ever done anything bad on purpose. Oh no, people have done enough to me to make my life a misery.'
Julia butts in again.
'Oh yes. We've all had problems. Most of us can still have a wash though, and it doesn't send us bonkers like you. You're mental as well as a tramp. Do you know this is the first time I've ever heard her say a sentence that means something? She's a loony. You should be committed.' She looks around the courtroom. 'What? Why should we feel sorry for her? What could have possibly happened to you that's worse than anyone else?'
My anger is out of control now and I'm screaming. I can feel the hot tears come and I grip a bar on the dock to steady myself.
'You'd be mad if you'd been through what I have. Do you know want to know what happened? Do you? I'll tell you. My brother raped me and then I had a baby.' I hear the words in the now silent room and all eyes are on me. Mouths are open and I suddenly have the urge to let it out. Top Secret. Not any more, as I vomit out the truth. 'I had the baby on the beach. In the caves. She was tiny and still, and I lay there hoping the tide would come in and wash us both away. It was cold and I fell asleep with her in my arms. But then I woke up and it was morning. First light. We hadn't been washed away and I was lying on the rocks, covered with blood. I washed us both in the sea and ran up to the headland.' Alice covers her face and Julia sits down. 'I dug up a patch of earth and buried her. So, you see, that's why I'm here. She's all I've got left.'
Julia looks at me, her scornful face twisting into a triumphant smile.
'So you killed your own baby and buried it? See. She is a killer. I told you. You need to investigate her. I saw her...'
The judge intervenes.
'Members of the jury, you are discharged. Please leave the court, everyone. Lizzie. Please come with me. You two.' She points at Cheryl and Sam. 'You come too.'
My legs are shaking. I feel like I'm going to collapse, and the Clerk fetches a drink of water. We all settle in a back office, where the judge looks at me.
'When did this happen, Lizzie? When did you give birth to this child?’
I sob the words out.
'1978. Summer.'
She nods.
'And your parents?'
'Mum left that year, and Dad never got over it. There was no time for me.'
'So your brother, was he prosecuted?'
I stare at her.
'I don't think you understand. No one else ever knew about this. It's the first time I ever told anyone. That's why I'm here, in Tintagel, she's still buried there. My brother wasn't prosecuted because only he and I ever knew. It wasn't really his fault, my dad told us all the stories of Morgana and Arthur sleeping together, brother and sister, and he told me that was what we had to do.'
Out of the corner of my eye I see Sam reach for his radio and hear him speak quietly.
'Roger Tango. Suspected murder victim. Location Tintagel headland. Perpetrator held. Over.'
The radio crackles and I can't hear what is said. The judge stares at me.
'Lizzie, was the baby dead? Did you hear her cry?'
I shake my head.
'No. She was very still. She never moved. I couldn't move at first, and there was a lot of blood. I still see it when I go up there. I can't forget it.'
'Did you have any more children?'
'Yes. Years later. Andrew. He hates me. Maybe it's punishment?'
She reaches over and pats my arm.
'You know we're going to have to investigate this, don't you Lizzie? You'll have to go with the police now. But first, you have to know that it was your brother's fault. He raped you. Never mind what your father said, it wasn't your fault or bloody Morgana's fault. That's just an excuse for his bad behaviour, a bad example followed. But everyone knows it's wrong to force someone. Force your sister.'
I stare at her.
'I left my younger sisters with him when I got married.'
I see her visibly pale.
'You need to tell the police every detail, and they can find out what has happened. I'm afraid you'll have to go with them now.'
Sam and Cheryl take my arms and Sam faces me. This time he's very serious.
'Lizzie Nelson, I'm arresting you on suspicion of murder and concealing a body. You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence, if you do not mention when questioned, something which you will later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence. Do you understand the caution? Do y
ou have anything to say?'
I shake my head.
We leave the court and Cheryl drives the short way to Bodmin police station in silence. I'm numb with shock, and I just stare into the distance. It's my worst nightmare come true. When we get there, Joanne shows me into the same room I was in last week. She double takes me as I walk into the room.
'You've smartened up, Lizzie. Well done. Did you get a not guilty?'
I shake my head and she opens a file to reveal a single sheet of paper. Mia Connelly strides into the room, and my duty solicitor appears.
'For the record, I'm Detective Constable Mia Connelly. I'll be leading this case and finding out exactly what happened here. So Lizzie. Can you tell us exactly what happened?'
I tell them about John and how he threatened to kill me if I didn't play Morgana to his Arthur. How he taunted me and bullied me. How he took me to the caves and made me play-act the shape-shifting, the sex between Arthur and Morgana, and all of the dirty little things my father had been shouting at us for years. Then how, while we were on holiday the next year, I gave birth in the cave. They stare at me in stunned silence as I describe the labour, and how I had to leave the bed and breakfast where my parents were when the pains came too fast. And how no one even noticed I'd been gone.
'She was tiny. She didn't move. She was dead. I'm sure of it. I lay there and hoped I would die too. But I didn't because I'm not that lucky. I woke up and I had to do something. I couldn't just give her up to the sea, I just couldn't. I started to walk and I ended up on the headland. Morgana was in my head. Morgana. Morgana. What better place?' I shake my head and look at the table. 'It sounds ridiculous now. But I was a child. I was just a child myself.'
Mia sighs.
'Why didn't you just tell someone, Lizzie? Why didn't you tell me when I asked? It would have explained why you were up on the headland that day. Why did you keep it a secret? Because you knew it was wrong?'
I laugh.
'Tell someone? We didn't tell. Everything was Top Secret, if we told we were battered. Worse when we were older. He'd throw things at us. He held me by the neck behind a door once, just because he thought I had been in touch with Mum. I couldn't tell.'