by D. R. Bailey
“Coffee before we go?” said Bernadette brightly.
“Yes, for sure.” Imogen accepted it gratefully and sat down on the sofa next to Bernadette.
“We’ve got time, don’t fret,” said Bernadette detecting a hint of nervousness in her junior’s demeanour.
“I’m not fretting,” Imogen protested, “OK, I am, but I’ve got this!”
“Yes, you have, now don’t worry.”
“I’ve been over and over it in my mind, I’ve got the notes, I’ve spoken to Rhys, he’s coming to the hearing, I might call him to the stand as needed.”
“Then it’s all under control, so take a breather for a few minutes and tell me how D’Arcy is,” Bernadette said sipping her drink.
“Oh, she’s over the moon. I never thought it would go so well. She was so happy, really happy. We… well, you know.”
“Yes, I do know, Imogen, both Eve and I know.”
“Oh!” Imogen coloured up.
“It’s not for me to say but, darling, is it wise to go down on your fiancée in a restaurant.”
“Oh fuck, you saw?” There was a momentary flash of embarrassment in Imogen’s eyes.
“I heard and then I popped my head around,” said Bernadette with a smile.
“Oh my God!”
“Don’t sweat it, I didn’t stay to watch.”
“Not like last time!”
“No, not like last time.”
“So now you’ve seen me having sex with D’Arcy… twice,” Imogen began.
“Don’t even go there,” Bernadette warned her knowing Imogen’s hints that she’d never seen Bernadette and Eve in a compromising position, it was the source of banter between them. “Anyway, you chose to do it there, so it was hardly my fault.”
“I know,” Imogen sighed, “We just got carried away…”
“Yes, so I gathered.”
“Besides, the restaurant knows D’Arcy of old. She told me that bastard Christophe full on fucked her in the very same room… so…”
“No!” Bernadette looked shocked, but then knowing Christophe it was hard to be surprised at anything he had done.
“Oh yes!”
“You weren’t?”
“Jealous? Oh, fuck yes I was when I heard it, but I couldn’t be angry and you’ll be proud of me, I just said, ‘oh really’ and we moved on.”
Bernadette reached out to her and squeezed her hand affectionately. “Good girl, you are learning.”
“I’m trying, I really am,” Imogen said with great sincerity.
“Keep it up.”
“So, you see, what I did wasn’t really so bad… was it?” Imogen said in hopeful tones.
“Oh, it was, very bad,” Bernadette laughed, “But… hey, heat of passion and all that, and luckily we were there to stop the waiters coming in.”
“You won’t tell.”
“D’Arcy? No, not a word.”
“Thank God, thank you.” Imogen looked relieved but Bernadette knew there were some things better kept between friends. She wasn’t quite on those terms with D’Arcy yet, in any case. Although perhaps she might be one day considering Imogen was to marry her.
“Don’t thank me, it’s what friends do.”
“You’re the best.”
“So apart from that?” Bernadette was expecting more torrid tales.
Instead, however, Imogen said, “She loves me and wants to get me a ring. I told her nothing more expensive than what I paid.”
“Really?”
This wasn’t that much of a revelation to Bernadette really. Imogen was very modest about her spending habits particularly when it wasn’t her own money. She didn’t like D’Arcy to feel she was taking advantage, although D’Arcy, conversely, wanted to shower her with gifts. Imogen insisted she was more restrained, much to D’Arcy’s annoyance sometimes.
“Yes, and we probably are going back to that shop, it’ll give that assistant a heart attack.”
“It probably will. D’Arcy can pay for her medical treatment.”
The two of them chuckled at the thought.
“Anyway, I’m so glad for you, and do you feel better, more secure now?”
“I do and you were right.”
“Of course, I was, well, I am sometimes, at least about that at any rate,” Bernadette laughed.
“I wouldn’t have done it if you hadn’t pushed me, and D’Arcy admitted she had been wishing very much I would ask her.”
“There you are.”
“How did you know?”
“Women’s intuition, so much better about other people than about myself.”
“And you?” Imogen continued sensing perhaps a little bit of a troubled tone in her friend’s voice.
Bernadette hesitated but then decided to confide what was bothering her. “I… oh it’s probably nothing, but Eve seems incredibly interested in anything related to corporal punishment lately. There’s those drawings she’s doing and then she wanted details from you.”
“Well, surely it’s not so bad? I mean, look at me…” Imogen grinned.
“Yes, I know but the Shibari is one thing, and I enjoy that. I don’t want to become a dominatrix at home,” Bernadette said in a way which her friend could tell she felt it deeply.
“But you don’t have to, not that you wouldn’t make a very good one, I’m sure. I’ve heard your assertive tone and it makes me go weak at the knees,” Imogen giggled.
“Oh stop! I just want to understand her better that’s all. I mean, I always try to accommodate her needs. I don’t want her looking elsewhere for it. I feel as if she’s keeping something of herself from me that’s all.”
“Why don’t you just ask her?” Imogen said frankly.
“I will, I want to but…”
Imogen’s tone softened. “You’re afraid, is that it?”
“Yes, I am shit scared of her leaving me.”
“Oh darling, you shouldn’t be,” said Imogen moving closer and giving her a hug.
“I can’t help it, I’m damaged, I’m fucked up, I’m a mess...”
“You are not!” said Imogen firmly, she looked at Bernadette and saw her eyes were wet, “Oh, darling, is it Rebecca?”
“Yes,” Bernadette whispered.
“I thought Eve was healing you, my sweet.”
“She is slowly but I have my demons, and they come to haunt me.”
“We all do, stop worrying. She won’t leave you, ever, I am sure of it.”
“I know and part of me wants to believe it, then there’s this other part.”
“Oh!” said Imogen crossly, “I could put you over my knee right now, stop it!”
“You’re funny,” said Bernadette smiling weakly as a tear tracked down her cheek.
“Don’t think I won’t…” Imogen began, and then seeing the tears, “Oh don’t, darling, don’t…”
She held Bernadette tightly for a few moments while she suddenly cried into Imogen’s shoulder.
“Hush now, it’s OK… it’s OK,” said Imogen stroking her hair as if Bernadette was a frightened child. Imogen was quite often a comforter to many, especially Bernadette.
After a little while, Bernadette pulled away.
“Better?” Imogen asked with concern.
“Yes, you always make me feel better, you do the best hugs.”
“Better than Eve?”
“As good as,” Bernadette amended not wanting to be disloyal.
“You’ll have to fix your makeup.”
“Shit, and I’ve made your jacket wet.”
“It won’t be the first time, it will dry,” Imogen laughed. It was true, Bernadette had cried on her shoulder many times before.
“I’m a stupid maudlin cow,” said Bernadette crossly.
“No, you’re not, don’t say so. You are human like the rest of us. But if you’ll take my advice, just finish the job you started and get married for fuck’s sake.”
“
I know, I should.”
“Then stop procrastinating, set a date and get on with it. That or see a counsellor.”
Bernadette nodded. “I know, I will, I will…”
“I don’t quite believe you but anyway, I’ll keep nagging you until you do!”
“Thank you, you’re a good friend and I love you so much,” said Bernadette filled with emotion.
“I love you too, now go and fix yourself up so we can get going, I don’t want to be late.”
“So assertive,” Bernadette laughed.
“You better believe it.”
“I thought I was the senior…”
“Go!” Imogen ordered in her best commanding tone and pointed to the door.
The two of them burst out laughing. Bernadette hugged her gratefully before going to sort out her mascara.
✽✽✽
Bernadette parked the car not far from the Criminal Courts of Justice. They walked up to the building and mounted the long sweeping steps. The courthouse was quite awe inspiring, Bernadette mused, it had a vast curved fascia of windows on the exterior of the property. This was the main court building where justice was administered in Dublin. Every lawyer aspired at one time or another to defend or prosecute cases here. Justice was Bernadette’s passion and now it was Imogen’s too, so to her, this felt a little like home.
They located a meeting room and Bernadette went to procure them a coffee. Normally Imogen would do this, but Imogen was running the defence for the hearing. Bernadette felt it was only fair. Shortly Bernadette returned, and passed a cup to Imogen. The two of them sipped their drinks while Imogen went over the main points again to be sure she had it all down cold.
“Stop worrying,” said Bernadette, “You’ve prepared yourself to the nth degree, it will all be fine.”
“Yes, I know but I always worry, don’t you?”
“Yes, darling, yes I do but I’m here to give you advice, not take my own,” Bernadette laughed.
“Oh you!” Imogen laughed too.
They finished their drinks and made their way to the court. Imogen had spoken by phone to Callum and so there wasn’t any need to see him for final words after all. He would be in a holding cell downstairs in any case awaiting the time for the hearing.
They entered the courtroom which like many others was panelled with wooden wainscoting. The Judges’ bench was higher than the rest of the courtroom in order for the judge to be able to see the entire proceedings. On one side were the jury’s benches and the other the dock where Callum was already waiting accompanied by a court officer.
They made their way to their lawyers’ station past the public benches. Rhys was also there sitting on one of the benches, he jumped up as they walked past.
“Hi, Rhys,” said Bernadette, “How are you?”
“I’m fine, yes, fine,” he said smiling anxiously.
“So, you may get called during the proceedings, just answer the questions, as I went over them with you before,” Imogen told him.
“Sure, of course, what are our chances?”
“Good I’d say,” said Bernadette.
“I’ll keep my fingers crossed.”
They made their way to their own bench and Imogen got the papers out from the suitcase and laid them on the table. As the prosecution counsel was not yet in evidence, Imogen went over to speak to Callum and make sure he was alright. As she returned, Shane Wilson swept into the room. Beside him was another man Bernadette did not recognise also wearing lawyer’s robes.
Shane nodded to Bernadette and went to set up his own station. Bernadette looked at Imogen with concern. Last time Imogen had gone up against Shane, she had gone to pieces. Bernadette had been obliged to talk to her very severely before she would return to the court and face him. Today, however, Imogen pursed her lips and looked even more determined.
Shane wandered over. “Ah, Ms Stewart and soon to be Ms Brown, if the newspapers are correct?” he said sardonically.
“Yes, yes, they are,” she replied her eyes shooting metaphorical daggers.
“Back for round two then.” He smiled in a supercilious way which merely served to enrage her further.
“Yes, yes indeed.”
“Well, good luck, may the best lawyer win.” He held out his hand.
She took it albeit reluctantly, he continued smiling and returned to his seat.
“Calm yourself,” Bernadette whispered to Imogen noting the effect it had had on her junior.
“I’d like to whip his backside until he can’t sit down for a week,” Imogen hissed.
“Well, I doubt you will ever get the chance now, so do it in the courtroom.”
“Oh, I intend to. That smug bastard, I hate him.”
“You need to focus, Imogen, he’s trying to psyche you out and it’s working.”
Imogen let out a big sigh. “Yes you are right. OK.”
“Deep breaths, darling, deep breaths, and relax, please. I need you to focus on the job in hand.”
“Yes, yes, sorry,” said Imogen contrite.
At that moment the Tipster entered the courtroom and announced the judge.
“All rise for Justice Nolan,” he said.
Bernadette recognised her at once, she had presided over the last bail hearing which Imogen had fronted. Justice Fiona Nolan was a slim woman of around forty-five years old. She was blonde and sported kindly green eyes. She was wearing makeup and red lipstick. Bernadette thought she was good-looking, if not extremely attractive. Bernadette wasn’t above admiring other members of either sex who were handsome.
Justice Nolan sat down at her bench and took a look around her courtroom. She examined Callum thoroughly before giving the paperwork her attention. After what felt like an age, she addressed the barristers.
“So, what we have here is a bail application for the release of one Callum Jenkins on bail, who is awaiting extradition proceedings, am I right?” she said seeking confirmation.
“Yes, Judge,” said Imogen standing up.
“Ah.” Justice Nolan looked her up and down. “Now I recognise you.”
“Imogen Stewart, Judge, representing our client, Callum Jenkins. And with me my senior counsel, Bernadette Mackenna.”
“Yes, indeed, Ms Stewart. You came before me with another bail application if I recall correctly.”
“Yes, Judge.”
“Very good, very good.” She turned to Shane Wilson. “I recognise you as well.”
“Shane Wilson, Judge, and I was at the same hearing you mentioned, earlier.”
“Yes, I remember,” said Justice Parker not looking quite as benignly on him, “Now who is this beside you?”
“This is Mr Mason Beamish QC, erm, purely here in an observation capacity, Judge,” said Shane smoothly.
“Observation capacity? What do you mean observation capacity?” said the judge irascibly.
“Mr Beamish is representing the Crown Prosecution Service from the United Kingdom, he’s a Queen’s Counsel, Judge,” Shane said by way of explanation.
“I know he’s a Queen’s Counsel, Mr Wilson, I’m not a fool, but what is he doing here in my courtroom?” Justice Nolan wasn’t happy, and Bernadette could tell Shane wasn’t doing a great job of explaining himself.
“Judge, what I meant when I said he was an observer is, Mr Beamish is pursuing the extradition proceedings from London and effectively he is my client. I take, erm, my instructions from him,” said Shane, taking out his handkerchief and wiping his brow.
“I see, so he is your client and yet he’s sitting on your bench.”
It seemed Justice Nolan did not approve of this at all.
“Well, the thing is, Judge, if he’s not on my bench I can’t consult him very easily,” said Shane reasonably.
“There is that I suppose, however, the proper thing to do is to ask the court’s permission first, and of course it depends on if the counsel for the defence has any objection.”
Justice
Nolan glanced over at Imogen.
“Judge,” she said standing up, “We have no objection to the presence of Mr Beamish.”
“Very well,” said Justice Nolan, “I take it, Mr Wilson, you are requesting the court’s permission to have Mr Beamish on your bench?” She raised a quizzical eyebrow at him.
“Yes, Judge,” said Shane with a sigh, “If it may please the court, I would request Mr Beamish to sit on my bench.”
The judge let the sigh pass, having made her point.
“Yes, he may but only as your client and is not allowed to address the court directly.”
“Understood, Judge, and thank you,” said Shane sitting down.
“Right, now we’ve got that out of the way, we can get on with the main event,” said Justice Nolan cheerfully, “Ms Stewart, whilst I have your written submission here, please explain why I should grant bail to your client Mr Jenkins.”
“Judge.” Imogen began standing. “Our client is accused of trafficking for sexual exploitation, a charge which he stringently denies.”
“No doubt,” said Justice Nolan dryly.
“Judge, to date, though we have requested it from the prosecution service, we have not received any of the evidential submissions with regard to this charge. As far as we know the reliance on the charge is on the say so of one witness which we would submit is tenuous.” Imogen was determined to sink Shane any way she could, so she was happy to put the knife in.
Justice Nolan received this intelligence with a frown. “Mr Wilson, have you anything to say as to why the evidence has not been forthcoming?”
“Judge,” said Shane, “I can’t answer that I’m sorry. If a request was, indeed, made then we would have serviced it promptly.”
“So, you’re saying a request wasn’t made?” Justice Nolan said allowing a hint of scepticism to creep into her voice.
“No, Judge, I’m not saying that….”
“Well, they are saying it was made. Are you calling the defence counsel a liar?”
This was blunt and to the point. It was very possible the judge had now recalled Shane’s earlier performance in court where she had not been enamoured of him either.
“No, I’m definitely not, but it’s just that I…”