Trish had seen him when she first came into court. Will knew that, even though she hadn’t waved or smiled. And he watched her closely all morning. The whole legal performance still seemed absurdly over-complicated, and idiotically long-drawn-out, but he was prepared to go along with it.
Today they had Sally Trent, a junior from Furbishers contracts department, in the witness box, and the Furbishers silk was asking her to confirm the truth of her statement. She looked far too innocent – and too young — to have been part of the conspiracy. Will wondered how Antony Shelley would make her confess.
But even that wasn’t enough to stop him thinking about Jamie Maxden’s video clip and hoping Trish would see in it what he had seen and understand how it proved everything he’d been saying. He tried to get hold of her at lunchtime, but he wasn’t quick enough. By the time he’d got out from behind the crowd, there was no sign of any of the lawyers.
He had to go off to eat an expensive, pappy sandwich from a coffee shop in the Strand and fight for patience. Gulping it down, sucking in air with every rushed mouthful, and burning his tongue on the weedy coffee, he gave himself severe indigestion. But he was back outside court fifteen minutes before the time the judge had stipulated.
‘Trish!’ he called, seeing her approach from the far end of the corridor. He saw her turn and murmur something to Antony Shelly, then come towards him making an effort to smile. He’d hoped never to see that deliberate gentleness again. She was obviously angry with him.
‘How are you doing?’ she asked. She sounded cool.
‘Fine. I’ve got something you have to see. It’s a—’
‘Will,’ she said, laying her long white fingers on his sleeve, ‘I’d love to see it, but we have to go back into court now. This afternoon’s cross-examination is immensely important after Arthur Chancer’s evidence that he had spelled out the terms of the two deals to you—’
‘That’s a sodding lie!’ he said, and couldn’t understand why she looked suddenly happier.
‘So I don’t want to water down my concentration,’ she said, without explaining herself. ‘OK? Let’s talk afterwards.’
He had to breathe carefully to get a grip on his fury.
‘Will, it matters that I do well this afternoon. To you more than to me.’
His head rocked with the violence of his nodding. ‘I’ll wait here afterwards. It’s important that you see this today. It’s about the sausages.’
‘I’ll be here.’
She turned tail, her gown flicking him as it flew out behind her, and said something dismissively curt to her boss. Then the two of them swaggered into court. Will had to tell himself several times that Trish was on his side before he could make his mind and thumping heart calm down.
Trish wished she’d never involved Will in the hunt for the organism that had poisoned Caro. She also wished that he’d stayed away today. She shouldn’t have mentioned Chancer, but Will’s sudden appearance had jolted her, and she was concentrating too hard on this afternoon’s witness to think straight. Over lunch just now Antony had asked her to take Sally Trent’s cross-examination.
‘She’s the one, I’m sure. We can get to her. And I want you to do it. Get matey with her. She’s resentful. Did you see her hating Ferdy this morning? Get her to talk about her loathly boss. Lead her into her sympathies. I’ll bet you there’s someone she cares about, likes to protect. She’s that kind. Just make sure it’s you today. Get her to want to help you. You can do that, Trish.’
All these people needing different things, she thought. Kim and Will and Antony and the rest of the clients. And now the defence’s witnesses too.
It was a bit like the first months after David had come to live with her, when he and George had competed – probably unwittingly and in their quite different ways – for every ounce of her attention. David had been so needy then, so frightened and so determined to do what he thought she wanted, that he’d been her priority.
Even he hadn’t needed as much as Kim. Would they ever find out what was behind her silent terror? And what if they didn’t? What if she were sent back, and her stepfather did kill her, as Pete Hartland was so sure he would? How would it be possible to live with the knowledge that she could have saved Kim with a bit more care, a bit more intelligence?
Trish pushed the thought away and felt like Sisyphus condemned eternally to roll the same boulder uphill. Concentrate, she told herself. Don’t split yourself and your attention or you’ll short change them all. Do one thing at a time. It’s not disloyal to forget the rest while you’re at it. She smiled at the woman in the witness box.
Will settled down to watch what his lawyers were going to do for him. He wished he knew exactly what sodding Arthur Chancer had told the court. He was such a twisting weasel, who never quite said what he meant, that he might have tricked them into believing him. Bastard. He’d have to ask Neil, even if it was too late to do anything about it now.
Two of the other claimants were sitting on the same hard bench. If they’d been here yesterday, they might be able to tell him what had happened. Will nodded to them. It didn’t surprise him they were keeping an eye on the proceedings. The only odd thing was that so many stayed away. Or maybe they were the ones whose businesses had not gone down the tubes and who were still capable of making a living.
Trish was getting to her feet. Will was glad to see Antony giving up the limelight again. Leaning forwards, propping his chin on his clasped hands, Will waited.
The young contracts assistant was in the witness box again. She looked a bit like Mandy, with the same snub nose and cheery eyes, although this girl’s hair was red and she was better dressed. He didn’t think she could have a tenth of Mandy’s warmth. No one could.
Memories of Mandy’s sexy body and all the generosity she’d shown in bed were the only things likely to keep him from going mad. He wished he could see her every day. If it weren’t for emails, he didn’t think he could wait. Thank God for the Internet! He wanted to be with her all the time, and touch her. And … He felt his cock stir and thought he’d better start concentrating on Trish before anyone else noticed what he was up to.
‘And so, Ms Trent,’ she was saying in a smiley kind of voice, ‘could you tell the court how you come to be working in Furbishers’ contracts department?’
Will wished he could see Trish’s face, but all he had to give him a clue about her attitude to the witness was the sound of her voice and the back of her ludicrous wig and ugly black stuff gown.
‘I was a secretary there originally, and I gradually got promoted.’
‘Do many secretaries get to take on quasi-legal roles or management responsibilities?’
Trish saw the intelligence gleaming in Sally’s eyes.
‘It’s hardly management,’ she said. ‘I just look after the staff in the department and organize the changes to the boiler-plate contract.’
‘Does that allow you to know all the department’s wrinkles? And the strengths of your managers?’ Trish smiled in sympathy.
‘Oh, sure.’
‘Sketch them in for us. Who’s the best negotiator?’
And so it went on until Sally trusted her. The atmosphere in court was warm and very female. Trish could feel Antony’s approval. Sally grew in confidence with every bit of information that pleased Trish. And Trish took care not to ask or say anything that might make Ferdy leap to his feet and break open the cocoon she was spinning around herself and the witness.
It wasn’t long before she found herself liking Sally. They might never meet again, but for the moment they could have been best friends. Trish had no thought for the judge or Antony or Will or anyone else. There might have been only Sally and herself in the court, as she drew out the story, word by word and smile by smile.
And then at last Trish got it. She had to work hard not to let her mouth drop open in amazement.
Sally simply said, ‘It was one day in March when my line manager, Martin Watson, told me I had to spin it out. I’d been
settling the questions too easily, he said. He liked a good fight and I was spoiling it for him by negotiating all the difficulties out of the way so soon. Like all women, he said, I wanted to keep things sweet and it was bad for business and for morale. I’d never progress until I stopped being so afraid of people being angry with me. I had to be like him and learn to enjoy conquering them. It would be good practice for the next rung up the ladder to get used to fighting, he said, so I’d better generate some good long battles now to show management that I could cope. He wanted me to spin out all the negotiations I was handling for a minimum of three months.’
Could she possibly not know the significance of what she’d said? Trish wondered.
This was the first half of the evidence she and Antony had been angling for, the admission that Furbishers had deliberately lengthened the negotiating period. Without that, Will and the other clients would never have been forced to commit themselves to the huge expenses that had locked them in by the time the real, and much less satisfactory, deals were offered. Now, all Trish and Antony needed was someone to contradict Arthur Chancer’s damaging evidence. That would be a lot harder to get.
‘That was brilliant, Trish,’ Will said as she stopped to speak to him when the judge had risen for the day. ‘Amazing.’
‘Thank you. She was a good witness. And honest. Look, Will, I’m not trying to stall, but I will have to go now. What is it you want to show me?’
‘It’s a video clip I was emailed by Jamie Maxden,’ he said, flushing. ‘I haven’t been checking my emails for months, so I didn’t know it was there. I think you ought to see it, but it’s long and takes time to download, so I didn’t want to clog up your system, and—’
‘That was thoughtful. Thank you. But in fact it would be easier if you sent it through, so that I don’t keep Antony waiting now. I’ll check my emails as soon as I get home tonight. I promise. OK?’
‘Well, yes,’ he said, flushing an even deeper crimson, ‘only I don’t have your email address.’
Trish grabbed a pen and scribbled it down for him. As she handed it over, she touched his arm and said, ‘Today made a difference, Will. You should be able to let yourself sleep tonight.’
‘It’s not enough, though, is it? Specially not if the judge believed Arthur Chancer. If this is the best we’re going to get, maybe all the doubters were right and there was no point even starting the case.’
‘You’re right: there’s still a long way to go. But today was good. Don’t underestimate it. There is still hope. Honestly.’
He didn’t look convinced.
‘You’ve got to hang on, Will.’
‘It’s easy for you to say. OK. I know … you’ve got to go.’
Antony had sent Colin ahead to take the solicitor to his room, and he was waiting for Trish in hers. She shrugged off her gown and hung it on the peg behind the door. She felt his hand on her back, and turned.
‘The conqueror returns,’ he said, kissing her cheek. ‘Well done.’
‘It wasn’t that much.’ She walked round to the other side of her desk to remind him there was work to be done yet. Two people were waiting for him only a few yards away and she had to see Kim.
His eyebrows tweaked up as he produced his best smile. ‘Maybe not, but it gives us a terrific excuse for a celebration. The Ritz has some very glamorous bedrooms. Or we could go to the Rookery. You’d love it there, Trish. The sexiest hotel in London.’
‘Maybe,’ she said, wondering if he could possibly be serious, ‘but I’m not up for that kind of celebration. We’re in the middle of a case, anyway. What are you thinking of?’
The smile turned wicked. ‘Do you really want me to tell you? Now? Here?’
‘Certainly not,’ she said quickly, knowing that in this mood he was capable of saying anything. ‘You and I are too much married to celebrate with anything but food, wine, and good stories.’
‘You’re not married, Trish.’
‘In every way except the strictest legal sense, I am.’
‘In that case, you’re the most shocking flirt I’ve ever met.’
Laughter bubbled up in her. She leaned across the space she’d fought to keep between them and kissed his cheek. The day’s stubble rasped her lips.
‘So, you vile seducer, are you. The others are waiting for you and I’ve promised to see the traumatized child again. I told you that.’
‘True enough,’ Antony said. ‘OK. Vamos.’
Chapter 12
Andrew Stane greeted Trish at the door of the psychiatric unit.
‘She’s here,’ he said, ‘waiting for you.’
‘Great. Has she said anything so far?’
‘She hasn’t, but her foster mother reported that she had some kind of nightmare last night and woke the whole house, screaming. In fact Kim was the only person who didn’t wake, until she was prodded. Mrs Critch says she’s never seen such fear on any child’s face as she saw then, but Kim wouldn’t tell her what she’d been dreaming about; she just shook and apologized over and over until it was unbearable.’
With that warning, Trish had a fair idea of what she was going to see. Even so, the sight of Kim’s face shocked her. Trying to block out everything else, particularly the need to get somewhere today, she concentrated on making her face and body as small and gentle as possible.
‘You must have been very frightened last night, Kim,’ she said. ‘But it’s over now. No one is going to be punished because of you. No one at all.’
A tear swelled in the corner of each of the child’s eyes, and trembled on the edge of the lid before bursting. She pressed the backs of her hands against her eyes, saying nothing and making no sound. Tears poured around the edges of her hands and dripped off her pointed chin.
Trish was terrified that Kim was going to choke. She longed to pick the child up and hug her and promise that nothing terrible would ever happen again; but one was against all the rules, and the other impossible. All she could do was provide paper handkerchiefs and hope the waves of unexpressed sympathy would reach her.
‘Thank you,’ Kim whispered, pressing the tissue to her eyes, instead of her fists. Eventually she blew her nose, too, and looked round for somewhere to put the soggy mess. Trish fetched a wastepaper bin and was rewarded by a faint smile.
‘Kim,’ she said, feeling as though she was stepping out on to ice so thin it crackled under foot, ‘I don’t want to make you unhappy or frightened, but if I’m to help you properly I have to ask some questions. Is that all right?’
There was no answer. Kim let her eyelids and her whole head droop, hiding herself all over again.
‘Kim?’ This time Trish allowed a little authority into her voice.
‘Yes?’
‘Kim, try to look at me. If you can.’
The smooth blonde head shook.
‘All right. Don’t worry about that then. Just try to tell me what happened at home if you screamed when you had a nightmare like last night’s.’
There was a gasp then a gulping swallow from the child, but no words. Trish tried again.
‘Kim, I think someone has told you that you mustn’t ever tell. But they won’t know about anything you say here in this room. No one will tell them. You are safe with us. And it’s safe to tell us what happened.’
Still looking down at the table, Kim spoke very quietly, but the words were absolutely clear and distinct from one another: ‘If I had a bad dream, I had to take off my nightie and stand on the box.’
Trish felt her head jerk up as though someone had pulled a string attached to her scalp. She caught the foster mother’s eye and knew she was as surprised as Trish herself.
‘What box?’ Trish asked gently.
‘At the end of his bed.’
‘The baby’s bed?’ Trish could feel the frown dragging her eyebrows together.
Kim looked up, surprised and a little pitying. ‘No,’ she explained, as quiet and matter of fact as ever. ‘At the end of Daniel’s side of the big bed.’
/> ‘Ah.’ This could be enough on its own to extend the interim care order. ‘Have I got this right, Kim? When you had a nightmare, you had to stand, without any clothes on, at the end of your stepfather’s bed in the night? Is that right?’
‘Yes.’ There were no tears now, but Kim started shaking. Her hands gripped the edge of the table as though vertigo was making the chair rock under her. Blood was driven out of her finger ends as she held on, until the tips of her fingers were like a corpse’s. Trish knew she couldn’t be made to answer any more questions today.
‘Try not to worry, Kim. You’ll be all right now,’ she said, standing up very slowly so that the child could be sure she was not going to be touched in either anger or perverted desire. ‘I have to go out of the room for a moment, but Mrs Critch will be here. And I’ll be back soon. All right?’
There was the usual long pause, then Kim nodded and whispered, ‘Yes. That is all right.’
Andrew met Trish in the corridor and hugged her. ‘You’ve cracked it, you wonder.’
‘It’s only the beginning, but I don’t see how we can put her through any more now. Did you see how precarious she feels? She was hanging on to the table as if it were the only thing that would stop her falling to her death. Have you got enough to keep her safe for the present?’
‘I think so. And I agree, she has to be let off now. Are you going to tell her?’
‘I’d better; it’ll only confuse her if she’s faced with another adult now.’
‘OK. And will you tell Caro? It was your breakthrough, so you have the right.’
‘You could get to the hospital sooner than I could because I’ve got to go back to chambers now.’ Trish smiled at him, glad that he’d remembered how much Caro minded about this child. ‘So why don’t you tell her? I’ll call in this evening on my way home and answer any questions she may have.’
Keep Me Alive Page 15