At the Dark Hour

by John Wilson

  – I don’t understand.

  – He was confiding in you was he not?

  – When you put it that way I suppose he was.

  – Would it be fair to say that the things he told you about members of chambers were his private views and reactions?

  – Yes.

  – By and large the things he said to you about them were not the sort of things that he would say to their faces?

  – I suppose not.

  Sir Patrick Tempest paused and moved his gaze from Julia and onto Adam. His eyes betrayed a ferocious intelligence but not, thought Adam, quite as intimidating as Roly’s on the few occasions he had chosen to unleash it. Tempest turned his attention back to Julia.

  – Did you have any evidence that Mr Pemberton had voiced any of his suspicions to Mr Falling?

  She bowed her head.

  – No.

  – I want to ask you about the Christmas party we have heard a little about. A lot of people were invited, were they not?

  – Yes.

  – Many members of the Bar, many High Court Judges, even a Cabinet Minister?

  – Yes.

  – You knew that there was absolutely no likelihood that Mr Pemberton would cause a scene with Mr Falling at that Christmas party didn’t you?

  – I wasn’t sure.

  Tempest feigned astonishment and looked at the press box.

  – You weren’t sure!

  – He’d been acting so strangely.

  – Did you, at any stage, ask your husband why he had invited Mr and Mrs Falling?

  – No.

  – Did you at any stage ask him whether he was intending to put what you describe as “outlandish” allegations to Mr Falling?

  – No.

  – So, to recap, your husband had told you in confidence about his suspicions about Mr Falling; he told you these things in confidence and there was nothing to suggest that he had communicated his suspicions to Mr Falling. You would agree with all of that would you?

  – Yes.

  – Your husband is a discreet man who does not like there to be scenes and, on this occasion, notwithstanding your alleged concerns, you did not raise with him the possibility that he intended to create such a scene?

  – No.

  – So, Mrs Pemberton, the question I must ask you, in light of the above, is why did you write to Mr Falling at all?

  There was a very long pause whilst Julia considered her answer. Blytheway, still not taking a note, was watching intently. Adam remembered what he had said in that first conference: A little piece of evidence can make a big hole. I fear that this one lies below the water line. It could sink you.

  – If I had known what a dreadful man he was I would not have written it. It was foolish. I can see that now. At the time I just wasn’t thinking straight. I couldn’t believe that the man that I loved was capable of believing that I could betray him.

  – But it goes further than that, Mrs Pemberton. You asked him to destroy your letter and he did.

  – I felt humiliated.

  Adam feared that Julia was beginning to crumble.

  – As members of the Bar we are often told that it is useful to stand back from the bare facts and consider them in a wider context. That is what I want to do now. We have established on your case that you met Mr Falling only once, for a short dance in 1936; that you disappeared – or at least could not be found for four or five minutes after that dance; that you had no regard for Mr Falling; that your husband voiced certain suspicions to you, in confidence, about Mr Falling and his relationship with you; that you had no good reason to think that he would “create a scene” when Mr and Mrs Falling came to your Christmas party; that you made no attempt to clarify that with your husband at the time; and that, ultimately, you wrote this letter to Mr Falling.

  – Yes.

  – And you told him to destroy it after he had read it?

  – Yes.

  Tempest paused again and looked at the judge and then slowly turned towards the press box before continuing.

  – This is where I want to stand back. This is the position as I understand it: there is a member of the Bar, whom you hardly know and who happens to be a member of your husband’s chambers. You do not like him and you hardly even know him. Your husband makes completely unfounded allegations of adultery against you, citing Mr Falling. You don’t try and explain why it is not so. Instead you write to the person being accused and you ask him to destroy the letter after reading it. That is the position, is it not?

  – You’re rearranging the facts to make it seem suspicious. But it isn’t!

  – Let us look at it from the perspective of Mr Falling. This is a member of the Bar who one must assume has a modicum of intelligence. He receives out of the blue a letter from the wife of his Head of Chambers, someone he has only met once. This letter sets out completely false allegations about you and him and at the end of it you ask him to destroy the letter.

  – I should never have written the letter.

  – You heard in my opening remarks to the judge that this letter, if it had been preserved, would have been of considerable assistance to you and to Mr Falling?

  – When I wrote it I wasn’t thinking that I would have to explain my actions in this court.

  – But this member of the Bar, who was entirely innocent of the allegations made against him, obeyed your request to destroy the only evidence which, if you are telling the truth, could have supported your respective defences. Can you give me any good explanation why he should do such a thing?

  – Because I asked him to I suppose.

  – Mrs Pemberton, we are standing back, remember. I must put it to you that any innocent member of the Bar receiving a letter like that would have preserved it. There is only one explanation for his actions. That he knew you well and that he trusted you. Is that not right?

  – No!

  Julia was indeed crumbling. She began to weep and her body crumpled in the witness box.

  – I will put it again. He knew you and he trusted you?

  – No,

  she said quietly.

  – And he loved you?

  – No.

  – And you loved him too?

  She could not resist looking in Adam’s direction. Their eyes locked briefly and this time he saw a tender sadness in her eyes.

  – No! I love my husband! I could not love anyone else!

  – No further questions, my Lord.

  Alnwick had no re-examination and Julia was allowed to resume her seat. She had to make her way past Adam and Jones and they stood to let her through. As she passed him, in a movement that would have been imperceptible to all but him she pushed back her bottom so it rested for a fraction of a second against his groin. All the main players were in the rows in front of them. Tempest’s junior, Eliot, was obstructed by Jones. What did it mean? The last time he had that sensation was in October 1940 when it all ended. He looked at her questioningly as she sat down. But she did not look in his direction. Then the clerk announced that the court was rising.

  ****

  The tepid champagne bottle. The view over Green Park from the second floor of the Stafford. The knock on the door, The peacock headscarf. Blond curls escaping.

  – Four years. Our lives are flying away from us.

  Then the champagne

  – To us.

  – Yes. To us.

  – What’s upsetting you?

  – I got a lovely letter from Agnes this morning. Well … not so much a letter … but she had drawn a picture of a house, a boxy thing, with a line of blue crayon at the top – that was the sky – and a line of green crayon at the bottom which was the grass.

  – When did you last see them?

  – And she had written, scrawled really, “To Mummy and Daddy, love Agnes”, and then put a line of crosses under her name.

  – They’ll be able to come back soon, I’m sure.

  – I couldn’t bear to lose them, Adam

  – Why should
you lose them? They’re much safer where they are.

  – I’ve been sleeping very badly. I’m so tired…. Top-up please … Thank you … So much has changed in the last four years.

  – We haven’t changed though.

  – Would you like some more?

  – Let’s leave a glass each for afterwards.

  He remembered undressing her at her request until she was only wearing her panties.

  – Shouldn’t we move away from the window?

  – No, Adam. Put your hand inside.

  And they had made their way to the bed.

  – I want this to be memorable.

  – I love you so much!

  – I love you too. I mean it, you know.

  – Why should I not believe you?

  – I mean it, you know.

  And afterwards

  – Let’s have that last glass of champagne.

  – Do you want me to cover you with a sheet?

  – Come to the window, Adam.

  And then they were sitting naked at the little table.

  – Julia. What’s wrong?

  – I don’t think we can carry on any longer.

  – Why ever not?

  – It’s this war. We’re taking enormous risks.

  She had started to cry.

  – Do you remember that time when I asked you whether, if we weren’t both happily married with children, you would marry me and you said yes?

  She was sobbing.

  – Yes.

  – Do you think that will ever happen?

  – Not now, one day perhaps.

  And she had sobbed again.

  – When?

  – Maybe in twenty years.

  – Twenty years?

  And she had climbed back into the bed and fallen asleep. He had watched her as the light disappeared and, when it came time to wake her she had acted almost like an automaton as she stood up and dressed herself then opened the hotel room door to leave.

  – Goodbye, Adam.

  – Please don’t leave me!

  – Goodbye, Adam.

  And she turned and was gone and Adam felt that his life had come to an end at that moment.

  Chapter One Hundred and Two

  (Wednesday 7th May 1941)

  Betty was waiting dutifully outside court and Adam, when he saw her, went across and, rather incongruously, shook her hand.

  – Thank you for coming.

  – I’m really scared.

  – You’ll be fine. Just remember what we agreed.

  He looked up as he was taking his leave and heading into court to see Catherine approaching. She looked dismissively at Betty, glared at Adam and headed into the public gallery. As he entered the row behind Blytheway, Roly turned and smiled and said

  – Keep it short, sweetheart.

  Roland Blytheway rose to his feet.

  – I call Mr Adam Falling.

  He ascended to the witness box and took the oath. He looked around the court room. Catherine seemed far away. Julia avoided his eyes when he looked in her direction. The only person who seemed capable of meeting his eyes was Roland Blytheway. Roly took him through his evidence in a conventional way. He dealt with his comparatively poverty-stricken background, his parents, his scholarships to a local Grammar school and then to Cambridge, and then, without touching upon the matter in hand, to his expulsion from Stirrup Court.

  – I want to ask you briefly about two cases that you conducted since you left Stirrup Court. The first was a treason trial, was it not?

  – Yes.

  – And I understand that counsel for the prosecution was Peter Preston KC, who was a member of your former chambers and who gave evidence to the court on Monday.

  – Yes.

  – And I think it is a matter of record that you successfully defended your client?

  – Yes.

  – And that was the first dent in Mr Preston’s otherwise unblemished record of prosecuting alleged traitors?

  – So I understand.

  – And then, last week, you represented a co-respondent in a case that was very similar to this one?

  – Yes.

  – And counsel for the Petitioner was Jeremy Pemberton KC?

  – Yes.

  – Indeed, as I understand the position, Mr Pemberton recommended that you be appointed as counsel for the co-respondent?

  – Yes.

  – Had he ever recommended you for a case before?

  – No.

  – What was your reaction to that?

  – I was surprised. Grateful, of course, but slightly baffled.

  – And on top of that he also invited you to his Christmas party?

  – Yes.

  – Was that something that happened often?

  – No. It was very rare for Jeremy … for Mr Pemberton to invite my wife and me to a party.

  – Why, then, did you think he invited you?

  – Beyond receiving that unexpected letter from Mrs Pemberton, I had no idea.

  – I will come to the letter presently. By the end of that evening did you have any theories as to why he invited you?

  – He was making all sorts of strange, heavy hints when he spoke to me.

  – And did they bring you to any potential conclusions?

  – I know it seems crazy but it tied in with what Mrs Pemberton’s letter had said and I formed the impression that he thought I had been having an affair with her … with Mrs Pemberton.

  – Had you?

  – Of course not! And, anyway, I was married.

  Adam glanced towards Catherine who was shaking her head vehemently. He hoped no one had noticed.

  – Can you tell the court what happened in the case you conducted against Mr Pemberton? Who won?

  – I suppose I did.

  – Suppose?

  – His client’s petition was dismissed and I agreed on my client’s behalf not to seek costs.

  – So, in the relatively short time since you left Stirrup Court you have joined battle with two of the silks and beaten them both?

  Adam looked down at Pemberton, who had lowered his head.

  – I suppose so.

  – I want to ask you about the books you read.

  – Yes.

  – They have been described as “avant-garde”, whatever that means.

  – I don’t think so. Anyone with a love of literature would find them interesting.

  – Do you have many law books on your shelves?

  – Not many.

  – Would it be fair to say that you enjoy literature more than you enjoy law?

  – I think I wanted to be a writer but came to the conclusion that I did not have the talent.

  – Were you aware that Mrs Pemberton shared many of your tastes in books?

  – How could I be?

  – It has been suggested that you gave these books to Mrs Pemberton. What do you say to that?

  – It’s ridiculous! She is in a different class to me, for one thing. I was barely out of the working class when I went up to Cambridge.

  – Anything else?

  – Well, I am married. And so is she.

  Blytheway paused and looked around the court. In the press box the journalists were beginning to take a different view of Adam Falling. He was a working-class boy who through dint of intelligence had managed to get into Cambridge and then to find a place at the Bar. He had shown his mettle by beating two of his former colleagues, both silks, in court. He might be a bounder but there may be some good back-stories here, in the gutter press at least.

  – I need now to turn to the question of Betty Sharples.

  This was where it was going to get difficult. He glanced over at Catherine, who was watching him keenly.

  – Yes.

  – It is your case, is it not, that on all of the dates, between May and October, when you booked a room and went to the Stafford it was for the purpose of having an … an assignation with Mrs Sharples?

  – Yes.

&
nbsp; – One might ask, as Sir Patrick has asked …

  A languid wave of the hand in the direction of Sir Patrick Tempest KC.

  – … why it was necessary to go to the expense of hiring a hotel room when Betty Sharples almost certainly had a room of her own to take you back to?

  – When I first met Betty I had never done anything like that before. I didn’t want to go back to her room because … well, because I didn’t want it to appear to be what, I acknowledge, I know it was.

  – This leads to two – sorry – three questions, and I will ask them one after the other. The first is: Did Betty have her own room and did you ever go there?

  – She did. And I have been there once or twice.

  Adam looked up. Catherine had a hand over her mouth, appalled.

  – The second is: Why, after the first time, when I assume you were able to acknowledge what you were doing, you didn’t simply take advantage of her room? You didn’t simply go there?

  – I wanted it to be more romantic than that. I thought that if I had gone to the trouble of paying for a room in an expensive hotel she would stay with me longer – and she did.

  – And my third question is this: Why go to the same … lady of the night … on each occasion?

  – I suppose … I mean … from that very first time I became fond of her. I believe now, looking back, that I was beginning to fall in love with her.

  Adam, who had been addressing all his answers to Mr Justice Wilkinson, glanced up and across the court room. Catherine looked furious, Julia had her head down and the press were scribbling away.

  – I want to turn to the letter Mrs Pemberton wrote to you in December of last year. You have heard her account of it. Do you agree or disagree with her description of its contents?

  – It is exactly as she told the court.

  – Why did you destroy it?

  – Because she asked me to.