Internment

by Gill Mather

  DI Hunter produced a photograph.

  “Would this have been one of the men who came to visit you at the gym?”

  “Actually yes. That was one of them.”

  “That’s Symonds. Do you want to press charges for threatening behaviour or taking your car?”

  Hugh thought about it. “No. I don't think so.”

  “It would have been sensible to have told us about these threats. It might have pointed us in the right direction and have avoided further unpleasantness for your friend Graham.”

  “Come off it,” said Hugh. “This is the most outlandish thing I’ve come across in years and probably you too. I didn't connect the threats in any way with Graham’s charge. Why would I? Why would you have either? I wouldn't have been able to identify this Symonds to you because he hadn't been arrested at that time. For heaven’s sake, you didn't even seriously connect it to me when a witness came along saying they’d seen my car in Graham’s drive on the night and at the time it happened. Get real. You wouldn't have provided me with any significant protection. And I thought as I do criminal work, I’d have to take the rough with the smooth. Thanks but I’m not being made a scapegoat for this mess.”

  “Right. Obviously it’ll be a while before Symonds gets dealt with so you’ll have to keep all this to yourselves. However we’re withdrawing the charges against Graham. We’ll get the paperwork done as soon as possible. I’ll let you know.”

  “I knew Graham didn't do it. I’d just never dreamed it was all about me really.”

  Andrew shook their hands and as they walked out he said to Hugh: “You know it might be more sensible to lock your car. But I said that to you before. As to leaving all that stuff in it, well I suppose it’s your prerogative but it could be a fire hazard or attract interest in the wrong quarters.”

  “Message received,” said Hugh and they walked out and climbed into the (unlocked) car.

  “What a mess,” said Hugh as they were driving away.

  “Well it wasn't your fault. They’d have got in the car even if it had been locked, and if they hadn't been able to set up that apparent assault, they’d have done something else. Perhaps something worse.”

  “It’s my fault it involved Graham though. His coat in my unlocked car etc. Poor sod’s been through the hoop and for nothing. And we can't even let the full story out because Symonds hasn’t been dealt with yet and there’s no evidence that it was anything to do with Grimsey trying to get at me. If we say anything openly he’s not above dragging me through a defamation action. So Graham still won't really be able to clear his name. No smoke without fire etc is what people’ll think.”

  “You didn't tell me you’d been threatened by a couple of thugs,” said Ali.

  “I didn't want to worry you at the time. Anyway nothing’s come of it has it. The whole thing’s farcical if you think about it. A totally bungled attempt to blacken my name. Kind of like an Ealing comedy. No wonder they gave up.”

  “Well at least no-one got injured.”

  “We’ll have to refund Graham’s legal fees. It was nothing to do with him at all. The partners won't be pleased. I’ll have to pay him back myself. I don't mind doing that, it’s just not a good result.” Hugh looked very down-hearted.

  “Well overall it’s good news isn't it. Graham probably won't be bothered so much why the charge is being dropped, just that it is being dropped. There’s a pub coming up. Do you fancy popping in for a drink to celebrate?” She crossed her fingers.

  “No. No thanks Ali. I’d better get back to the office and start sorting out this mess.”

  Ali looked away and swallowed and fought down the strong wave of nausea and panic that seemed to characterise the desperation she felt when any thoughts she ever allowed herself to have about a reconciliation had to be swept back under her carefully constructed veil of normality. She wondered if Hugh’s composure in her presence was just an act as well. But it didn't look like it.

  Oh well she’d had some good news earlier. James’s father and a partner in the civil rights Cambridge firm had turned out to be on the board of trustees of the same charity. James's dad had put in a word and incredibly Ali, having been to an interview a couple of weeks previously, had been offered one of the paralegal jobs. When she got back to the office she’d have to prepare a letter of resignation. With no contract she could leave at any time but wanted to give them reasonable notice.

  At least she’d tried, she thought as she looked forlornly out of the passenger window. She watched the people going about their business, getting on with their lives and thought: I’ll just have to try somehow to get on with mine.

  A few days later Ali sat at home with her family and watched a news item featuring Hugh and Graham on the steps of the Court after the charge had been formally withdrawn. Hugh made a short statement:

  “Mr. Spellings is of course very much relieved that this charge is not going to go ahead. He has always vociferously protested his innocence. The police are now following another line of enquiry in connection with the incident. I can't give any further details about that. My client now wishes to put the whole thing behind him and get on with his life and concentrate on his business interests. It is hoped that the media will allow him the breathing space to do so.”

  And despite the sea of microphones and the barrage of questions directed at them, they walked away quickly to a waiting car.

  Ali sat and bled inside and when her parents started asking questions about Hugh, she pleaded a headache and went upstairs to her room.

  BEFORE SHE KNEW IT, it was Ali’s last day at PWT. She had no idea if anything was planned but put one of her better suits on anyway. The day was bright and clear and warm. A beautiful June day. She worked a normal morning, that is to say she broke her neck trying to get completions done and documents drafted and telephone calls answered.

  About twelve forty-five, Wattsey called everyone into reception and said they were closing for a couple of hours to take Ali out for lunch. Ali tried not to show how touched she was.

  Everyone came. Even Hugh. He sat with Sheila and sipped a small lager. Ali on the other hand was persuaded by all and sundry to break her no alcohol rule fairly spectacularly.

  They had gone to a Spanish restaurant where a section had been set aside for them and Wattsey ordered tons of tapas and carafes of wine.

  Ali became tremendously emotional and she wasn’t the only one. By the time pudding was served, at least half the company had their hankies out and there were shouts of “Speech, speech.”

  Ali got up unsteadily with Wattsey’s hanky in her hand and did her best.

  “I’ve so enjoyed my eight months with PWT. I never thought it would be as long as this to begin with but I’ve learned so much from all of you and the experience gained has been invaluable,” (there were surreptitious glances by many members of staff at Hugh which he ignored and Ali didn’t notice) “that I can’t thank you al enough. I shall miss you all so much. I hope you’ll miss me a little bit too. I shall definitely keep in touch.” And she blew her nose hard as everyone cheered.

  Wattsey then rose and said his few words about what a pleasure it had been to have such a bright star working in their office, how cheerful but conscientious she’d always been, that he for one didn’t know what he was going to do without her but he wanted her to develop the successful career she deserved. And would they all raise their glasses etc etc to the prettiest intern any law firm had ever taken on.

  OK it was sexist but very very well meant.

  He then presented her with an envelope which he said was in recognition of the firm’s appreciation for her huge efforts over the months. Ali opened it and inside was a cheque for fifteen hundred pounds. She gasped and gabbled her thanks. She could pay her dad back now for the little car he’d bought her.

  It turned out everyone had individual gifts for her. She tore open package after package. Favourite perfume, tights, lace underwear, earrings.

  At last Hugh gave her his.It was a
small flat rectangular package. Ali knew what it was instantly before she opened it. But she had to open it. It was of course The Privy sign.

  “I took it down just after everyone left the office. I thought you’d want to take it with you.”

  Everyone had gone quiet. Hugh looked down at her in that heart-stopping, entrail-melting way he used to. Ali held the sign to her, bit her bottom lip and closed her eyes. She swallowed and her breathing became laboured. She felt faint and started to sway.

  Wattsey took her arm. “Come on Ali. It’s time to go.” He looked angrily at Hugh who sighed and looked away. He doesn't care thought Ali.

  Ali was shaking and her head was spinning and not from the alcohol. Wattsey and Sam led her away out of the restaurant and back to the office.

  She went through her drawers and put all her presents in bags. Wattsey said she could and probably should leave early. She agreed and he said he’d get her a taxi. She went round and said goodbye to every one but Hugh wasn’t in his room and she didn’t see him again.

  CHAPTER 25

  ALI WAS DESPERATELY nervous her first day at the new firm. Her dad wouldn't hear of her paying him back for the car so she’d gone out and splurged on some expensive new suits, blouses and shoes for the new job with some of her unexpected leaving bonus. At least she looked presentable even if she was shaking like a leaf inside.

  She set off very early or so she'd thought but wasn’t prepared for the traffic in Cambridge. The congestion was epic. It took her well over an hour to get anywhere near the office from the outskirts of Cambridge. She was late as a result and decided she’d have to try the park and ride the next day. They seemed to have dedicated bus lanes.

  The new firm however were much more structured than PWT. She wasn’t left sitting about wondering what to do. There was a proper induction procedure. She had a session with the HR person and was given a contract of employment to take away and read. It was just for her probationary period.

  She was told more or less precisely what her training would consist of and she was shown where copies of the office manuals were kept and asked to read certain ones as a minimum within the next two weeks. She was even given a talk about office safety, procedures in the event of fire and other accidents or emergencies and was shown the room with the desk in at which she would work with a number of other trainee paralegals.

  And by this time it was lunchtime. She hadn’t brought any sandwiches so she went for a wander round the city centre and bought and forced down a small bean salad.

  HUGH WAS SITTING at home moping. Badly. He’d had to leave the office early because he couldn’t concentrate on anything. His beautiful lover had left and he would probably never see her again. Hugh was under no illusion that she would visit the firm. He knew she wouldn’t. Some other man would fall in love with her and she with him. Perhaps she was dating James already. He didn’t think she was fickle or shallow at all but he did think she’d need someone to love her and that he’d have lost her forever when that happened.

  He was starting to feel terrible anguish. Much worse than at the beginning. To begin with he’d been buoyed up and carriedalong by his anger. And his horror at having to remain in a police station, having to give a DNA sample and answer questions more or less against his will. Or at least it wasn’t something he’d sought out or had any control over. The system was going to relentlessly process him and spit him out. He realised properly and for the first time what Lynda Reece must have felt like now. And Graham. And countless other people he’d acted for. Complete loss of any control over your own destiny. He’d been substantially traumatised by it. It was like a mental castration.

  The anger about that and the disgust he’d felt about what Ali apparently thought he was capable of kept him going for a month or so.

  And he got a certain cruel pleasure out of hurting her, knowing she was hurt, looking as though he didn't care. He knew he shouldn’t have given her The Privy sign in public as he had but hadn’t actually imagined she’d nearly faint over it. He really had wanted to upset her and that was too bad he realised now. Much too cruel. Another reason why she’d probably never come back to him even if he was willing to ask. Which he wasn’t.

  But at least while he could see her most days at the office, it gave him some sense of comfort even though she wasn’t his any longer. He had really meant it when he said he adored her. She was like a goddess to him. As far as he was concerned, adoration was far deeper and stronger than mere simple love. He had idolised her and he still did. Seeing her daily therefore was an almost tangible relief to him even if he couldn’t touch her. That had certainly had to be enough for him during those long months when he’d yearned for her at a distance before that evening when she had so wonderfully and incredibly shown him that she wanted him too.

  He supposed that she wouldn’t have understood what he meant by saying he adored her. She’d have wanted a declaration of love. But would it have made any difference anyway in the long run? Probably not.

  And while he was seeing her everyday he could dupe himself into imagining that they were back to their old days together and that in a few days’ time she’d come and stay with him and he could lose himself in her.

  Maybe acknowledging their relationship in public might have made a difference. Graham had said she wouldn’t be satisfied forever at being smuggled to his house, plied with energetic sex and then left unacknowledged to her own devices for days on end when he was actually there and could and, he now realised, should have supported and cherished her the whole time.

  As well as his misgivings and natural reserve, Hugh really had been concerned about her getting stick from the others at the office if their relationship had come to light. However if he was being honest, that was partly because he had worried that if it became difficult enough for her at the office, that she’d leave and he wouldn’t any longer have her there every day. So it was selfish of him really. He’d made out that it was for her benefit, but really it was for him.

  He’d been undone by the effect on him of their first night together. He’d worshipped her from afar all right but he hadn't expected the lightning bolt that had seared through him mind and body, turning his stomach inside out, making him feel almost physically sick. It didn’t feel normal after just one night of admittedly exquisite sexual encounters. He wasn't sure he’d be able to work properly. It was too much. It made him feel too vulnerable and his first instinct was in fact not to see her again at all and he’d more or less decided not to. He’d told Graham but no-one else though not exactly why. It sounded bizarre not to want to see someone again because you liked them too much. Whatever happened now, he never wanted her to know that.

  But he hadn't been able to stay away. The next weekend on the Saturday night after the first time, he’d wrestled with himself all day to go and find her or not to. Had he had a knock out drop he’d have taken it that evening to keep himself at home. But in the end he’d had to go and seek her out and if she hadn't been working behind the bar at the S&S then he’d have gone to her home, `phoned Samantha if necessary, trawled the pubs and clubs of Colchester to find her regardless of the usual rowdiness. He’d have walked the streets of Colchester all night or camped outside her house. Anything.

  He hadn't been able to understand or control the compulsion. It had left him helpless. He was a lawyer after all and his instinct was to proceed slowly, not rush headlong into….what? He wasn't sure. Was it love? It had felt like torment. Like being all at sea and clutching at a piece of flotsam aware that if he let go, everything would be lost. After she’d fallen asleep in his arms again the second time that Saturday night as fluffy and adorable as a kitten, he’d looked at her and tried to apply some logic to it all, but since there wasn't any he’d thought instead: I must try to keep this under some sort of control. It mustn't expand so rapidly that it implodes.

  He had wondered if this sudden rush of feeling was because he hadn’t had a woman for a long time. He didn’t usually chase after women.
The reverse was usually the case. He’d had a few months after first going to university when he’d made the running in several relationships but he hadn’t gelled with the girls. They’d been nice and pretty and OK in bed but somehow not enough. And they hadn’t been happy when he’d had to tell them that it was over. So after that he’d just let girls do all the work then he didn’t need to feel so guilty when he gently gave them the elbow. It wasn't that he was that picky. There was just nothing there really.

  Since starting work in earnest however, female companionship hadn’t really bothered him and different girls turning up at odd unexpected times including at the office became too inconvenient. As well as one or two relationships that had got completely out of control and become very unpleasant as far as he was concerned and he had tried to forget about. In fact one of them led to him positively avoiding romantic entanglements.

  Therefore with Ali when he was hit by this excess of passion he was hard pressed to say whether it was because he’d fancied her for so long or because she was so sweet or because he needed a woman or even because of simple chemistry. And if it was chemistry, what did that mean? Did it mean she was his nemesis, come to punish him for his previous indifference or did it mean that they were born for each other? He’d just known that holding her had felt so right even if at the same time it felt pretty uncomfortable, charged up like a Van de Graaff generator, crackling and spitting static and making his body hair literally stand up on end. Even so, it was still like coming home from a long journey into the wilderness, without even having known he’d been in the wilderness.

  He had thought as the older more responsible one he should try to show some restraint at least on the surface. But it hadn't worked any better for him than it had for her; he was just better at not showing how he felt. It was always there. The desperate unrequited need for her when they weren't alone together. The urgent insistent longing that couldn’t be satisfied and now never would.