Internment

by Gill Mather

  “But why?”

  “Well apparently Trish says she saw my car driving down Graham’s drive the night his stable girl was assaulted and at about the same time it happened. I had to go and have my DNA taken for elimination purposes. So I’m now on their records.”

  “Oh. Yes. I saw her in town. She said something about it.”

  “So why didn't you say something to me? I spoke to her when I got out of the nick and she said you said she should tell the police. Why on earth did you do that? Why didn't you speak to me?”

  “I wasn't really listening to her. Not at the time. We were in a shoe shop and it was surreal really. And afterwards I just thought….I don't know what I thought actually. I was trying….”

  “So did you tell her go to the police or not?”

  “Well, she said should she. So I thought I shouldn't interfere.”

  “Well thanks a lot Ali. Thank you so much for the vote of confidence.”

  Ali started to get a little rattled. “Well OK then. If I had told you about it, what would you have said then? Let’s suppress evidence? Let’s coerce Trish into keeping quiet?”

  “I’d have said that we should have a bloody good laugh about it! Trish is a complete air head. Oh! Didn’t you realise? She doesn't know what bloody day it is and I would have reminded her as politely as possible that she might be mistaken! Have you any idea what this would do for my reputation if it got out? Being questioned about an attempted bloody rape?”

  Hugh was shouting at her in a way she’d never heard before. He looked furious in a way that she’d never seen before.

  Ali looked over at the back of the office and at least five pairs of eyes were peering at them with huge interest out of Wattsey’s window, Wattsey himself included. He saw Ali look over and gave an exaggerated shrug and walked away. Another face took his place.

  “Well if you care so much about your bloody privacy and what the rest of the firm think about us,” Ali said, “then I suggest you keep your voice down.”

  “What?”

  “FYI, most of the office are glued to that window.”

  “Fuck them!” Hugh shouted. Ali gasped.

  “Hugh. Try to keep some perspective about this. Try and be reasonable.”

  “Reasonable?” He cast about him as though the answer might lie in one of the parked cars or in one of the adjoining offices. “I might even have to stop acting for Graham now.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes really,” he snapped back. “Look I saw the way you looked at that forensic suit at the cottage. And I know you questioned Graham about my engagement and whether I resented him taking her away from me.”

  “What?”

  “He told me. Honestly he did me a favour. We were pushed into it by our parents. We were far too young. I was at Oxford and it would never have worked. Do you really think I’ve stewed over that for nearly ten years and set Graham up for an assault charge to get back at him? Do you really think I could go into a girl’s apartment and scare her half to death and try to rape her to get back at a mate for something that happened donkey’s years ago? How could you Ali?” he repeated.

  “Well then, that was weeks ago when I saw Graham. Why didn't you speak to me after you’d seen him? Why keep it to yourself if it bothered you? You didn't give any indication there was anything wrong. Oh, but of course you don't show emotion do you? It doesn't go with the image does it? Mr. Cool couldn't possibly lose it and let down his defences for a few minutes to sort out a misunderstanding. He couldn't possibly….”

  “Do give it a rest Ali,” Hugh said icily.

  Ali moved towards him. “Hugh,” she almost pleaded. As she approached him he put his hands up and backed away from her.

  “Don't think you can get round me that way.”

  “Hugh of course I don't think you had anything to do with Angela’s assault. But d’you know, even if you had, it wouldn't actually matter to me. It wouldn't make me feel any….”

  “Oh. That’s so comforting! My girlfriend doesn't care if I’m an attempted rapist!”

  “I didn't mean that! Stop twisting everything. Hugh this isn't like you at all. Please say we can meet later and talk about this.”

  “No. It’s over!”

  “What?”

  “You heard. We’re finished. I couldn't be with you any more knowing you think that about me.”

  “Hugh,” Ali was aghast, “You can't mean that. You can't.”

  “Just see if I can't.”

  “Please Hugh!”

  Ali stood there, unable to take it in. Everything went quiet. Time appeared to stand still. All she could hear was the throb of her heart beat in her ears. She swallowed hard.

  “Hugh I can't live without you,” she said softly looking into the far distance.

  He paused for a moment and looked uncertain. Then his expression closed down. “I’m sure you’ll manage.” And he stalked off to the office.

  Ali didn't make it to the appointment with the client who wanted a Lasting Power of Attorney. Instead she walked straight home, crawled into her bed fully clothed and lay there. There was no-one at home. Her parents were still on their cruise for a couple more weeks and Ed was at his friend’s for the duration. Ali didn't get out of bed apart from going to the loo and getting glasses of water. She didn't cry, she just lay there.

  The telephone rang many times but she ignored it. If the door bell rang she ignored that. On the Thursday afternoon, the front door opened and she heard Jan, who had a key, call up the stairs whether she was all right. Ali didn't answer. She registered talking below and then footsteps coming up the stairs.

  Jan and Sam came into her room and over to her bed. Ali didn't react.

  “Ali,” said Jan and took Ali in her arms. “Oh Ali,” she said tears streaming down her face. “Ali, say something. What’s he done to you?”

  Sam came round the other side and sat on the bed and put her arm round Ali. “We’re all missing you,” she said. Ali remained curled up staring into space.

  Jan and Sam looked at each other. Now they were here, they couldn't leave her on her own but neither could either of them stay that long with her. They both had kids and jobs and homes to run.

  “Come home with me. Please Ali,” said Jan. There was no reaction.

  Sam excused herself and left the room. She went downstairs and telephoned PWT. She spoke to Mr. Watts. She said it didn't look as though Ali would be returning to work that week.

  “Is she very upset?” he said.

  “More than.”

  “Right well I'll come round shortly though I'm not sure what good I can do.”

  Sam let him in when he arrived. He followed her upstairs.

  When he saw Ali his eyes filled with tears. He sat on her bed and put an avuncular hand on her shoulder. Ali’s bottom lip started to tremble.

  “Ali,” he said, “I’m so sorry this has happened to you. You’re a clever girl. You must try to get over it. Hugh Sutherland’s a….unique person. But you’re such a lovely girl. Someone else will come along. I know they will.”

  The tears started to fall. His bluff kindness did it for Ali and she let Wattsey take her in his arms while she sobbed her heart out. No-one tried to stop her. It was clearly what she needed.

  “I can't come back,” she said eventually.

  “Well leave it a little longer before you make a decision,” said Wattsey. “I’d miss you certainly very much. I know it’ll be difficult for you but think about it first. It’d probably do you good.”

  Many more tears were shed before he left saying he’d keep in touch. Jan thanked him profusely for his help. Without him she wasn't sure Ali wouldn't have gone into some sort of catatonic state long term.

  Ali wasn't beyond realising that Wattsey’s finality on the subject of her and Hugh must mean that Hugh wasn't prepared to reconsider. She knew men didn't talk much about that sort of thing but she imagined words must have been said. Knowing Hugh, he’d make short shrift of any attempts to inte
rfere.

  Jan managed to sort things out so that she could stay the night and Ali got up for the first time since Monday and mooched about for the evening. She found her office suits and other clothes on the sofa. Jan said quietly that Sam had found them at work in what she called The Privy. Ali couldn't bear it. She took a couple of sleeping pills Jan had with her and went to bed.

  The next two evenings she was due to work at the S&S and she decided she’d go to work however awful she felt. They were bad nights and she got through them like a zombie but it couldn't be helped.

  The next day on her own at home she played the haunting “I’m So Afraid” by Fleetwood Mac’s Lindsey Buckingham, the slow version with the long guitar solo. She set the CD player to repeat it over and over again and gave herself over to its tormented power and extreme emotional message. She felt ecstatic with pain and anguish and ranged about the house wailing out loud, pleading with the Gods to reunite her with her other half or sobbing in a gut wrenching fashion. After five hours of this she felt some small part of the hurt had been exorcised.

  She knew she couldn't go on like this. She was either going to fade away and die or else make some sort of effort, and sheer common sense dictated that she would get over it eventually. Everybody did.

  CHAPTER 24

  By night on my bed I sought him whom my soul loveth; I sought him, but I found him not.

  (The Song of Solomon 3)

  BUT APPARENTLY NOT Ali so it turned out. She put a brave face on things and tried not to show what was going on inside. If Hugh could do it, so could she.

  But it wasn’t easy. Inside she was a mass of pain. Previously with Hugh it’d been so exquisite it had been almost painful. Now the pain itself was almost exquisite. It tore through her and washed about her. There was no escape from it. She pondered the mystery of time and space, how one second could separate two such different sets of circumstances, how it was now impossible to recover the before part. It would never return again. If only one could rearrange the molecules, atoms, sub-atomic particles back into the order they had been before, occupying the same time and space they had occupied before. If only she could tap into the forces of the universe to do that. She supposed that must be why some people believe in God, because they needed to believe that more than the here and now, the physical present, are possible. If she’d thought it would have been any comfort to her, she’d have tried it herself. But she knew it wouldn't be.

  The only thing that seemed to help was not to eat. It gave her a sense of having control over at least something.

  Outwardly she was able to appear reasonably composed. She knew people mostly didn’t like displays of extreme emotion and didn’t know how to cope with them in every day life. She didn’t want to lose friends and what sympathy she had. Therefore she learned to turn up the sides of her mouth as though in a semi-smile and behave normally. It worked a dream on most people.

  Going back to the office on the Monday turned out to be much easier than expected.

  “Tha’d a girl,” said Wattsey.

  She kept out of Hugh’s way and he hers apparently and she never saw him drive past her at the bus stop again. And she stopped spending time with him at work, though inevitably she saw him and they were just polite to each other and that was that.

  But she stepped up her efforts to find alternative employment. After a couple of weeks, she called James again to see if “the old man” could pull any strings. They met for a lunchtime drink. James kissed her on the cheek and said she looked stunning as ever though, he frowned slightly at her, somewhat tragic. He said it suited her.

  James drank several beers and Ali stuck to orange juice. She couldn’t trust alcohol to pass her lips, what with her low calorie intake and need for total control.

  James asked what jobs she’d applied for and she gave him a list. The Cambridge civil rights firm still had vacancies. That was her favourite and it would get her as far away from Hugh as she could be while staying in the area. James said he’d see if any strings could be pulled.

  “So how’s your love life?” said James.

  “Oh. You know. Slings and arrows,” replied Ali.

  “Too bad,” said James. “Well. Me. I’ve actually got some good news. Your hot tip about Maddie struck gold for me. For both of us. We’re quite a couple now. Early days of course but from little acorns etc. Actually incredibly it turns out we’re distantly related.”

  “You don’t say!” And they both laughed. At least, she thought, James doesn’t take himself too seriously. Why can’t everyone be like that. Uncomplicated and transparent. But of course Hugh wasn’t everyone, or she’d wouldn’t have fallen in love with him.

  James walked her back to her office and kissed her again on her cheek. He put his hand up to someone as he left and, turning, Ali saw that it was Hugh walking a little way behind. He appeared inscrutable as usual but still he was looking hard at Ali and James.

  Stuff him. Thought Ali. I hope he does think James and I are an item.

  ABOUT A MONTH later, Hugh came to see Ali in The Privy.

  “I’ve had a call from the nick. They said there’s been some new developments about Graham’s case so I’ve got to go and see what’s up.” He was still acting for Graham after all. “I couldn't get hold of Graham. Since you’ve taken such an interest in his case,” he said pointedly, “I thought you might like to come with me. And take some notes if you wouldn't mind.”

  “Oh yes. Of course I will.”

  They didn't talk on the way to the station. Ali couldn't think of anything to say and Hugh stared straight ahead giving nothing away. They had to wait quite a time before anyone saw them. Hugh had his briefcase and got out a file and looked at it. Ali thumbed through some magazines trying to avoid the articles about bedroom issues and romantic problems.

  Eventually DI Hunter put his face round the door and asked if they’d follow him to an interview room. Ali wondered if it had been DI Hunter who’d interviewed Hugh about Trish's allegation but knew she couldn't raise it with Hugh later.

  It was all quite informal. Hugh and DI Hunter called each other by their first names, so it was “Hugh” and “Andrew”. If he noticed the change in Hugh’s and Ali’s demeanour towards one another, Andrew gave no sign of it.

  “Well it’s good news for your client,” said DI Hunter. “You’ll recall that we found some evidence of another man in Angela Cadman’s annexe but couldn't get a DNA match on it. However we recently arrested a man in connection with a number of other incidents and a match came up with the DNA in Ms. Cadman’s flat. He’s someone we’ve had in our sights for years but never been able to get anywhere near before. The man has admitted that it was him who carried out the assault and he’s asked for the offence to be taken into consideration with a number of other offences.”

  “So who is this man and why did he bother with such an out of the way place for an attempted assault.”

  “I must ask you to keep this to yourselves but his name is Symonds. He’s thought to be associated with Don Grimsey. You used to act for him Hugh but I believe you don't any longer. Symonds won't admit to any connection with Grimsey and says he was “casing” the place at the time with a view to a possible later burglary. He’s vague about the detail. He doesn't account for the coat. Says it must have been there already. He doesn't admit to taking your car, just says he took a four wheel drive vehicle he found parked unlocked in the countryside but can't remember where now. Says he didn't want his own vehicle to be recorded visiting the premises.

  “We can only speculate why he really did it but one of our theories was that it was intended as some sort of frightener for you, maybe to encourage you to keep quiet about whatever you know about Grimsey. You came and answered some questions recently after there was a report that your car was seen entering Graham’s drive the same night as the assault at about the right time. We dismissed it at the time, the witness didn’t appear very reliable, but one possibility is that your car was taken to make it appear
you had carried out the assault. You said you never locked your car and left it on the road. Criminals have skeleton keys for all sorts of makes and models of cars so they wouldn't have had to hot-wire it. I think you know Graham very well and he may have left his coat in your car. You do have quite a lot of bits and pieces in your car although you said you were moving home at the time. It’s possible that the coat was taken assuming it was yours and left in Ms. Cadman’s flat.”

  He let this sink in. Then he continued. “Obviously they didn't anticipate that the CCTV would be off. They assumed there’d be a record of your car visiting the premises that night at that time. Ms. Cadman thought she recognised Graham’s voice but one man’s London accented deep voice can probably sound much like another’s especially when it’s pitch black and the girl was terrified.”

  Hugh glanced briefly at Ali who looked steadfastly down at her note-taking.

  “We’ve spoken to Angela. She also doesn't recognise Symonds when shown a photograph of him. She says it was common knowledge she wanted to be a model. The people who organised the attack could have found out fairly easily.”

  Andrew continued: “They may also have found out that Graham was expected to out that night but of course he wasn't and the snow absorbed the sound and covered up all the tracks. Can I ask you Hugh whether you’ve received any threats from Don Grimsey or anyone on his behalf?”

  “He `phoned me a few times to try to persuade me to act for him again. Yes he was rather threatening but I ignored him. And I did have a visit from a couple of knuckle draggers when I was at the gym one time. I don't know how they got in because they’re not members. They just said the sort of stuff you might expect. They didn't mention Grimsey, just said I should remember what’s good for me, I wouldn't want to wake up at the bottom of the Colne one night, I’d better learn to be discreet, and something about me having been lucky and I wouldn't be so lucky next time. I suppose now they must’ve meant the assault. Perhaps they thought I knew it was intended for me.”