by Gill Mather
Ali stayed at the bar as long as possible hoping that Darren would have left before she got back. When she couldn't wait any longer, she wove her way over to the table. The pub-cum-night club was beginning to fill up. She was glad to see Darren getting up.
“So, um, are you both coming to Summers’ Christmas party in a couple of weeks? It’ll be a wild night you can be sure!”
“We’ll see..,” Ali began.
“That sounds great. We’ll make it a date. It’s going straight in my diary,” Sam said.
Darren gave a gallant salute. “Look forward to seeing you ladies then.” And he was out of the door.
“Gee thanks! I was hoping to avoid the grope of the century actually. I’ve heard about their do’s. I thought Pattersons were personae non gratae, if my Latin serves me correctly, for refusing to pay referral fees.”
“Well, he obviously recognised qualities other legal firms can't provide,” said Sam archly, getting out her compact and touching up her lipstick and eye make up.
“Seriously Sam. You’ve got two lovely children…”
“They may’ve looked lovely when my mum brought them to the office but really they’re little horrors.”
“And a wonderful husband who loves you…” here Ali was fishing a bit, floundering as it turned out.
Sam sighed and looked away. She leaned her chin on her hand and looked at Ali.
“It’s all right for you. Young and fancy free. After a few years of marriage things....kind of pall. You just think there must be more than this. I got married too young. I’d advise you not to do the same.”
“But that’s awful. You don't want to dump your marriage just because you’re bored do you? What if a second marriage got boring. And a third. And a….”
“Yeah. OK, I get the message. But it’s not just boredom you know. Den is, well, he’s not very nice sometimes.”
“Sorry?”
“He can get a bit aggressive.”
“You don't mean he’s violent?” said Ali appalled.
“No. no,” Sam hurriedly backtracked. “He just…I think for some reason he thinks I’m better than him and…I could have had a better career and….well he resents it.”
“What does he do?” Ali was a bit confused. “How does this resentment manifest itself if not in actual violence?”
“Well. He’ll push past me. Bang doors. Slam out of the house.” Sam swallowed.
“So what brings this on then?”
“If he’s had a few drinks. It doesn't take much then. I forget to agree with him all the time. He thinks he’s being got at and…Boom,” Sam raised her arms, “up he goes. Just like that. There’s nothing I can do then but shut up completely. Luckily the kids are usually in bed by the time these episodes happen.”
“Oh.” Ali was shocked and didn't know what to say.
“Look all I’m saying is, if wotsisname isn't that keen, honestly try and look at it as a happy escape. Anyway, I want to forget my marital situation for one night. C’mon. Let’s play LLI.” It stood for lewd legal innuendo, a fairly unsubtle game they played sometimes.
“Well OK, ” said Ali, “let’s start with Hugh, he runs rings around the opposition. He’s really good on his feet you know.”
“I wonder what he’s like on his back then!” mused Sam, “Perhaps you can start your own investigation into that subject.”
Ali tried to look po-faced and failed.
“Well if I can ever give him my endorsement, you’ll be the first to know!”
“Yes. You’ll have to issue a memorandum of satisfaction.”
Ali giggled. “Hmm. I’ll be the judge of that. I’ll have to collect a sufficiently large body of evidence. And I’d have to see his bona fides first.”
“Just so long as you don’t get court in the act. If things get really desperate, you’ll have to issue a writ of habeus corpus.”
“Well, if I just have to have that body, I’ll have to find a way of getting access to it.”
“Just so long as he doesn't effect egress too early on….”
And they both fell about and dissolved into paroxysms of hopeless laughter.
Suddenly there was a cough from behind. Both girls straightened up quickly as Hugh came round and sat down where Darren had been sitting fifteen minutes earlier. Ali wondered how much he’d heard, but he gave no indication. He looked around, then, ignoring Sam, he told Ali that the police were going to charge Graham in the morning. The DNA results were back and there was a match with Graham’s DNA. Plus DNA from another unknown male. And there was other forensic evidence such as fibres from his clothing including dog hairs.
Ali didn’t like to ask but couldn’t help it.
“Is it alleged he actually tried to rape her?”
“Well the charge is going to be just sexual assault, which of course is bad enough. There isn’t enough forensic evidence for attempted rape. She says the man was distracted or disturbed by something and left before anything serious could happen. She doesn’t know what disturbed him. It was pitch black in the annexe because he’d switched the trip switch off. She says she knew it was him by his voice. And now there’s the forensic evidence.”
Sam was riveted by this information and Hugh seemed to notice her suddenly and said quickly to Ali:
“I’ll need you to come to the station tomorrow and take notes again and at the hearing after he’s charged when we’ll ask for bail. Be in the office early. OK?”
“Yes of course.” And Hugh got up and started to leave.
“He will get it won’t he? Bail I mean.”
“Yeah. It should be a formality. He’s not likely to do a runner is he? And it’s not as serious a charge as it might be.” And he was gone.
“God I wish I had your job,” said an envious Samantha. “I could probably even put up with married life if I could deal with exciting celebrity cases like this. All we get at our end of the office are crappy leases and rotten company takeovers and sales of newsagents’ shops.”
“It’s not a celebrity case,” chided Ali. “Don’t be so dramatic. Anyway my role is minor. Taking notes isn’t exactly highly skilled. In fact it’s pretty tedious.”
She wasn’t sure why she was so tetchy. She’d been looking forward to going out with Sam but suddenly she didn’t want to stay much longer though she couldn’t let Sam down.
Rescue came in an unexpected form. Without warning a grinning face deposited itself opposite them as Darren Summers sat down and asked them what they wanted to drink. He’d got a reprieve he said. He’d gone back to the office and `phoned home to find that his wife had gone to visit her mum again and the babysitter was looking after the kids and she’d already got them into bed. Darren was free for the evening to entertain “you lovely ladies” – looking only at Sam as he said it.
Sam readily accepted a drink. Ali still had most of hers left untouched so she declined. Darren bounced off to the bar.
“Ali you look done in. I wouldn’t mind if you went home and got an early night you know,” Sam said her eyes wide and innocent.
“Thanks, you’re so kind and generous.”
“No I mean it. You could catch the last bus rather than having to take a taxi later.”
“What and leave you here on your tod with Leering Larry? What sort of friend do you think I am?” Ali said with mock concern.
Briefly Sam looked worried then gave Ali an unnecessarily violent nudge and giggled. Ali looked at her and surmised that she was already half cut. She wondered if she really should stay and try to look after Sam. But her instincts told her that she would be wasting her time and just end up playing gooseberry while they pawed each other. Sam seemed intent on debauchery and she can get on with it as far as I’m concerned thought a resigned Ali. Anyway who am I to sit here all evening and try to protect my friend’s honour? Some nineteenth century chaperon.
“But you would cover for me wouldn’t you?”
“Sorry?”
“Tell everyone you and I were togeth
er all evening.”
“What lie for you? Just so that you can shag Darren? He’s such a wanker!”
“Yes but will you?”
Ali sighed. “I suppose so. I am tired. Or at least for some reason totally pissed off and I don’t fancy staying – especially not to have to chaperone you all evening. You don’t deserve it.” She looked at Sam’s exposed cleavage where she’d been wearing a scarf a bit earlier. “You could at least put the Brontë sisters away.”
Sam took no notice.
“Anyway it might not come to shagging. Not yet. The Darrens of this world might expect a bit of girlish resistance, a respectable period of courtship. Like one or two dates at least!” and Sam was already beaming away at a self-satisfied Darren weaving his way towards them with the drinks. In fact he looked totally delighted by the turn of events. Cock a hoop. Like a little boy who’d got into the sweet shop.
“Well I’ll be off then.” Ali got up and nodded at them, or more accurately at Darren’s back as he put his arm along the back of the chair and leaned towards Sam while he added the mixer to her drink. She couldn’t see Sam at all.
Suddenly Jane Austin came to the fore. “Don’t think I’m condoning this you know!”
And Ali flounced off. She could hear Darren saying “Ooh! Who sprinkled Bisto on her latte!” to Sam and they both laughed. And then Ali was out into the dark cold evening dashing to the stop as the last bus drew to a halt.
CHAPTER 8
THEY WERE STANDING in the lobby of the Court building. Graham had been charged and been bailed without difficulty and was going to go home and face his empty house he said. Ali called a minder from Graham’s company on her mobile to bring the car round and she and Hugh shielded Graham from the assembled press outside the Court. Cameras were flashing and microphones were poked in Graham’s, Hugh’s and her faces with a barrage of questions. Ali had never been in such a situation before and tried to look professional and serious at the same time as conveying the impression that this sort of thing was not an uncommon event as far as she was concerned. In fact she found it almost mind-numbing. She didn’t notice if there were any TV cameras there. No doubt she’d find out later. Hugh looked noble and above it all. Graham looked suitably pissed off. He was of course used to dealing with the press.
None of them said anything and they hussled Graham into the waiting car as quickly as possible. With its engine running it sped off leaving the ravening hordes behind and dropped Ali and Hugh off at the office. They knew there would be more press waiting at Graham’s house but Graham would have to sort that out. He had enough cover.
The rest of Ali’s day was dull in comparison. Sam wasn’t in and hadn’t `phoned in. Ali tried calling her home and mobile numbers and texting her with no luck. Perhaps she and Darren had eloped together, she speculated wildly! But she heard Tammy putting Darren through to Mr Watts. Just before lunch Den, Sam’s husband, `phoned in and said she had a stomach upset. Sorry he forgot to call earlier. Ali wished she could go round to see her at lunchtime but it was too far away and Ali had no car, not on the money she didn’t earn!
DARREN WAS VERY PENSIVE for him. His secretary was trying to jolly him along and interest him in the arrangements for the office pre-Christmas bash without much success and so gave up in the end to go and thumb through some brochures for furniture etc. for the company’s new branch office.
Darren turned and looked out of the back window. The view wasn't too bad. He’d had the rear garden, formerly a wilderness, landscaped for the staff to use at lunchtimes. He was proud of it. It had lots of seating, a summer house, some children’s play equipment and a barbeque. He’d even had the old small but adequate swimming pool restored. In the summer, they regularly had Sunday get-togethers for the staff of the Colchester and other offices and their families. These and other events and outings increased staff morale especially in difficult times, created loyalty and cemented relationships.
He liked to regard himself as a hands-on, forward thinking, enlightened boss. It was partly self-congratulation but also he genuinely wanted to be friends with the staff and get to know them, put faces to names. Without the outings etc. he’d certainly hardly have any real, meaningful contact with the staff in the branches further away. He could well remember the feeling as a school leaver in his first jobs of being constantly overlooked, never having his ideas taken seriously.
Increasingly though, he thought glumly, he seemed to be the only one at these gatherings without a spouse or family to accompany him. He wondered if the others noticed. Sharon usually didn't want to come and since he had to spend his time circulating, his kids didn't come either. Sharon was bored at these events. She just got to look after the kids she said and might as well be at home. Darren tried to tell her that the kids there all had a whale of a time together while the mums and dads stood and watched and gossiped. If Sharon would just enter into the spirit of the thing she could have fun and get to know the others.
It would have helped Darren immensely to have had his wife backing him up and reporting back to him on the staffs’ concerns. In the informal atmosphere. they were likely to be relaxed enough to say what they thought. “Yes” people weren't necessarily the best for the company. But Darren had no partner there to help him both enjoy these events and sound out the staff.
While Darren may have projected a laddish image, he was in fact quite conservative. He might smile and make suggestive remarks, but in fact he’d never actually strayed into a relationship with another woman. He wanted his marriage to work. He didn't want his kids to be the products of a broken marriage. Sharon was making it so difficult though. She didn't seem pleased to see him when he got home every day. He’d try to start a conversation but she’d just grunt and shrug disinterestedly. Often there was no meal made for him. She just slopped around in old clothes and he presumed spent all day eating cakes and biscuits from the look of her.
He’d tried flowers, accounts with expensive clothes shops, offers of meals out and offers of long weekends away without the kids (God knew she spent enough time at her mother’s - mum could certainly be pressed into service to give Darren and Sharon a few days away together). Nothing worked. Sharon just largely ignored him. Sex was out of the question. She wouldn't even have a cuddle. It was inexplicable to Darren and very hurtful. He’d put up with her sloppiness around the house and overeating if she’d just be a companion to him. But she wouldn't.
But, horror of horrors, he had now started to have the added worry that Sharon was neglecting the kids. They were always getting bruises and bumps and he’d put it down to the fact that they were, well, kids. But lately he wasn’t so sure. The night he was pulled up for speeding for example, he had had a call from Sharon. That much was the truth. But it wasn’t about an intruder. Sharon wanted to go to her mum’s again and didn’t want to wait about for Darren to get home and couldn’t be bothered to get a babysitter. She was going to go and that was that. If Darren hurried, the kids’d only be on their own a few minutes. It wouldn’t kill them. Darren couldn’t believe he was hearing this. So he hunted through is mobile for their regular babysitters and managed to find one who lived nearby and then legged it back to Witham.
But of course Her Majesty’s constabulary saw to it that he was held up and when he was pulled over he just said the first thing that came into his head, which was that his wife was worried about an intruder. He wasn’t going to tell this arrogant know-it-all copper about his family situation. Nor did he want it aired in court and plastered all over the local press, therefore he stuck to his story about the alleged intruder. And of course the police hadn’t bothered to follow up the intruder allegation so it seemed best to stick to the story. Ali obviously thought it was a complete concoction, but let her.
Nonetheless Darren had never been unfaithful. But he was thinking about it.
Last night when he’d put Samantha into a taxi at midnight and taken one himself, he’d wondered if Sharon would mind him getting home so late. But she’d been fast
asleep and rolled over so as to face the other way when he got into bed. He’d laid there thinking about Sam and her liveliness and interest in his career and everything. He badly wanted to see her again but she was married too with children and he knew what it was likely to lead to. He’d sighed and resolved to try to speak to Sharon seriously about the marriage as soon as the opportunity arose.
He swung round in the revolving chair and looked at the desk clock. Christ it was time he got on with some chasing up. Got to keep those Solicitors on their toes. He picked up the `phone and asked Susie to get hold of old Watts for him.
HUGH DIDN’T WANT TO discuss the case so Ali spent most of the afternoon going through the evidence so far on her own. It was very damning. Graham’s finger prints on Angela’s mobile but otherwise no fresh finger prints in the annexe. But hair taken from Angela’s bedclothes matching Graham’s DNA. And fibres from his coat on the bed as well as the coat itself.
There was DNA from another man’s hair, sweat and saliva on the bed clothes but the lab hadn't come up with a match.
Angela’s story was short and simple. She said that she was in bed nearly asleep. She was tired from cleaning out and exercising the horses earlier especially as it was so cold outside. Suddenly a large form was on top of her trying to pull down the bedclothes between them. To begin with she thought for some reason it might be Graham’s dog that had got into the annexe and leapt onto the bed. Then she realised it was too heavy to be a dog.
It was pitch black and she began to be frightened and asked who it was. When there was no reply she started to scream. All the time the man was trying to get into the bed with her and pull up her night shirt and pull down the knickers she’d gone to bed in. He put one hand over her mouth when she started screaming. It seemed to have a glove on it. Possibly a leather glove. She tried to bite it and struggle but it didn’t make much difference. The man told her to shut up. She realised it was Graham’s voice and said that she sort of froze. She was really surprised. She thought if she got him talking he might stop. She thought maybe he was drunk but she couldn’t smell drink.