A Form of Justice

by Dawn Marsanne

  ‘So, you don’t want a job then?’

  ‘Oh, I can ask you the same question then, are you threatening me?’

  ‘I’m merely pointing out the state of play. I could save a lot more money by getting rid of you.’

  ‘Really. You do that, and I’ll make sure that they realise what a penny pinching, money grabbing bastard you really are.’ The drinks on an empty stomach were clearly making Martin more emboldened.

  ‘I prefer to call my approach financially prudent,’ said Neil, calmly. ‘I’ll put some of this down to the beer talking and pressure of the day. However, before you start to get too carried away, I’ll just mention, Taylor Jennings. Remember him?’

  ‘Those allegations were never proven, he had no witnesses. I was cleared by the governors.’

  ‘Only because I spoke up for you. Now, concentrate on the matter in hand, don’t threaten me and finish your drink, we need to get back.’

  Martin drained the rest of his half-pint of lager and stood up, stiffly.

  ‘I can give you a lift home later, if you want, it’s no trouble,’ offered Neil.

  ‘Yes, thanks,’ he paused. ‘Er, no, on second thoughts, it’s OK. I’ve got a return train ticket.’

  ‘Sure? I can drop you off, I think we have a few things to discuss, don’t you?’

  ‘No, I’ve just remembered, I’ve something I need to do in town. I’ll get the train. Thanks, though.’

  Neil looked at his colleague and wondered what had caused the sudden volte-face. He appeared to be deep in thought, and that was worrying.

  **

  The absence of bodies in the auditorium over lunch had allowed the temperature to drop slightly, however, background noise from the air-conditioning was much louder than it had been in the morning and was in danger of becoming intrusive.

  ‘I hope I didn’t have too much tea to drink at lunch,’ said Beth to her friend.

  ‘Well, we should have a mid-afternoon break but leave quietly if you need to,’ said Trish. ‘I enjoyed my sandwich, I felt quite hungry actually.’

  ‘Well, it’s obvious everyone is a bit nervous, I even noticed that Ms Overton’s paper was trembling ever so slightly when she began,’ whispered Trish, ‘but it didn’t last for long.’

  ‘You are very observant!’

  ‘I think it’s something I pick up on when I’m doing counselling. I notice how people are wringing their hands, picking at their nails, jiggling their legs. They don’t know they are doing it.’

  The auditorium fell silent as Dame Margaret began the next session.

  ‘Welcome back. I would like to call our next witness, Dr Manish Gajar, who is chair of the Clinical Commissioning Group for the area. Mr Fairbrother, please would you begin,’ said Dame Margaret.

  There was a pause whilst the witness made his way to the stand. As he was sworn in, Gina was handed her next set of notes by Julius, her junior counsel.

  Trish recognised the name and wasn’t surprised he had been called as a witness. Tom had often spoken about him from meetings he’d attended with the CCG on behalf of the surgery. Dr Gajar had clearly succumbed to a cold and was suffering somewhat, trying to clear a persistent frog from his throat as he answered the questions.

  As Dr Gajar began with an explanation of the role of the CCG and the subsequent complaint he’d received from Beth, Trish began to think of her career and what might have been. At one time she had thought of becoming a doctor, perhaps a surgeon even. She had a good memory, and that would have certainly helped. Although straight A grades were necessary for medical school, she had certainly shown the potential to be a high achiever, had her grades not deteriorated. The saddest thing of all was that none of it had been her fault. She had been a victim whose dreams and desires had been stolen from her in an instant. Wasn’t it ironic that life spanned many decades, thousands of hours, millions of minutes and yet its course was often changed irrevocably by an action which played out over a few minutes or even a few seconds? A car crash; an explosion; a fall; a bullet wound; the stab of a knife. The examples were endless yet the consequences had an enduring legacy.

  Dr Gajar was explaining the administrative error which had resulted in the wrong home being inspected, thus allowing poor standards of care to continue at Stour View. The details were tedious and unbelievable in the same measure, and the witness looked acutely embarrassed. The account of such incompetence did nothing to hold Trish’s interest, and her mind drifted back to her past.

  At that point, she looked at her hand which had been damaged and flexed her fingers. She could manage most tasks, but intricate ones were still a challenge. Her digits would probably struggle to perform delicate surgical procedures.

  She suddenly felt very depressed as often happened when her mind began to dwell on past events. If she were sitting there instead of Dr Gajar, the pathetic mix-up wouldn’t have happened. Trish felt no sympathy for him. He was paid a good salary and ought to be more efficient. After all, she had to make sure she performed to a high standard in her job, humble though it was in comparison with his. She felt her blood pressure increase, and a hot flush consumed her, making her blouse stick to her back.

  ‘Dr Gajar, are you feeling alright?’ asked Dame Margaret.

  ‘I am feeling rather warm, the air-conditioning does not seem to be working very well.’

  ‘Yes, I had noticed that over the last hour or so it has begun to feel rather uncomfortable in here. I suggest we take a thirty-minute break whilst we contact building services and see whether we can rectify the matter.’

  The inquiry was suspended, and all parties took the opportunity to escape from the claustrophobic atmosphere of the room. Gina felt her blouse sticking to her back and was desperate to use her e-cigarette. She hoped she could find a shady spot outside where she could shed her jacket and cool down.

  Chapter 10

  Melanie had passed the most awful day. Most of it was a blur due to her severe depression which had distorted all events. She must have fallen asleep after lunch and had awoken confused and panic-stricken which caused her to rush to the bathroom to vomit what little remained in her stomach. It had been over twenty-four hours since she’d had anything substantial to eat and her stomach ached with hunger and the act of retching. Fortunately, she had managed to keep some cold water down and after a cooling shower had decided to leave the confines of her flat. Exactly where she was planning to go was a mystery but perhaps just the act of walking, the regular activity of placing one foot after the other would help restore some equilibrium.

  As she opened the main door of her block of flats the heat assailed her ferociously. The surrounding concrete walls and pavements had absorbed as much as they possibly could, and they were now releasing the excess back into the atmosphere, augmenting the already furnace-like conditions. Sunlight reflected off passing cars, and Melanie realised she’d left her sunglasses in the flat. Her spirits sank. It had taken so much effort to get out on to the pavement that she realised a retreat to her flat would once more confine her indoors. She looked at her phone to check the time. Surely now that it was approaching 6 p.m., the heat ought to begin to fade?

  She set out in the direction of the city centre then after about a hundred yards, she stopped suddenly in the middle of the pavement, causing a woman with a buggy to catch her heel as she took evasive action and skirted around the human obstacle. Melanie turned back through a hundred and eighty degrees away from Canterbury. She had no idea where she was heading. For the moment she was merely concentrating on putting one foot after the other. As she walked along the pavement, she felt it hard to maintain a straight line and was aware of a few people staring at her, probably wondering if she was drunk. Melanie was past caring though. That was the least of her problems at that moment, so she continued oblivious to the harsh glances.

  She heard some footsteps approaching behind her at speed and stepped aside, assuming it was someone in a hurry to get home or catch a train.

  ‘Hey, I’ve been ca
lling you!’

  ‘Piss off,’ replied Melanie as a hand got hold of her arm. ‘Get off! Ow, that hurt!’ she screamed.

  Pedestrians stopped in their tracks to observe the commotion.

  ‘Mel! Mel, it’s me, Izzy. Are you OK?’

  Melanie stared blankly at her friend for a few moments whilst Izzy assured concerned onlookers that they were known to each other.

  ‘Oh, sorry, Izzy, I didn’t recognise you.’

  ‘But I look the same as I always do. I’ve come straight from work to see how you are. I phoned you several times today and left you messages, but you didn’t respond. I was worried.’

  ‘Worried? Why?’

  ‘Well, just worried, you know.’

  ‘You think I’m having another breakdown, is that it? I should have known better to tell you about my past. Been having a good laugh with the girls, have you? Ha! I bet you have!’ Melanie was shouting now, and Izzy felt acutely embarrassed.

  ‘Mel, shush, people are looking,’ she whispered. ‘Let’s go somewhere we can chat? Shall we go back to your flat?’

  ‘It’s a tip. I’ve only just left it after several days. I’m not going back just yet.’

  ‘OK, well, let’s go and get a drink. We could sit outside? What do you say?’

  ‘I’ve not brought my bag, I’ve no money on me.’

  ‘That doesn’t matter. Look, let’s walk this way. We can go to The Miller, it’s never busy there on a Monday. We can get something to eat.’

  ‘I’m not hungry.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter. Just a drink then? What about it?’

  ‘OK, just don’t treat me like I’m mad, promise?’

  ‘I promise. Now, I’ll tell you what happened at work today. Mr Halfpenny came in again. You know he’s always got some problem with his account. Well, today there was a bit of a scene.’

  Izzy continued to chat away with Melanie barely listening. She was half aware of the chatter but it sounded distorted at times as if the volume was varying like on a poorly tuned radio. At times her friend’s voice disappeared completely as if drowned out by white noise or a rushing sound like the waves at the seaside in her ears.

  **

  ‘So, how did it go?’ asked Tom Webster upon his return from work as he wandered out into the garden to greet his wife.

  ‘We were dismissed early due to the air-conditioning failing as it became too hot and stuffy in the auditorium.’

  ‘Oh, no, that’s not a very good start. Did anything happen today?’

  ‘Yes, we heard from three witnesses. We started late, then there was all the preliminary stuff about the agenda of the inquiry and introductory statements.’

  ‘How did Beth do?’

  ‘Really well. She was nervous, but I’m proud of her. I was worried this morning because she seemed in a real state, but she seemed to collect her nerves.’

  ‘It must have been so hard for her.’

  ‘Yes, really tough. Her mother was mentioned a lot during the questioning.’

  ‘Well, let’s hope she can cope with the more harrowing details.’

  ‘I hope so, too, but they do give a warning before showing anything particularly distressing.’

  ‘Well, that’s good.’

  ‘It was difficult to concentrate after lunch with the heat.’

  ‘Well, thankfully the air-con at the surgery held up well today. In fact, it’s been an unusually problem free Monday for once. I should note it down on the calendar!’

  ‘Perhaps you should. I must say you look quite chipper for the start of the week. Quite untroubled and relaxed. I, on the other hand, had to practically peel my clothes off when I got back and I got straight into the shower.’

  Tom smiled.

  ‘Anyway, Dr Gajar, the head of your CCG was one of the witnesses today.’

  ‘Oh, yes, Manish. He’s a good chap. How did he do?’

  ‘Hopeless. He might be a good chap, but he didn’t cover himself with glory.’

  ‘Really? Why do you say that?’

  ‘Well, for someone so highly paid he is clearly not keeping on top of things.’

  ‘But he’s only been in the job for a few months.’

  ‘Eighteen months, actually.’

  ‘Well, time flies, I guess.’

  ‘He made all the excuses about the pressure of work and so on, huge budgets, blah blah..’

  ‘They aren’t excuses, he does have a lot on his plate.’

  ‘OK, I can accept that, but he authorised an inspection of Stour View and guess what? They inspected Stour Village home instead.’

  ‘Oh, no!’ cried Tom. ‘But it’s stupid they have the same names, don’t you think?’

  ‘Well, they are similar, but I still think it’s sloppy. Particularly when they found all to be well and it still didn’t jangle any bells. Beth’s complaints were numerous, so he should have suspected they’d gone to the wrong place.’

  ‘So what happened?’

  ‘Well, he wrote back to Beth to say that they could find no problems and it wasn’t until after her mother had died that they inspected the correct home.’ Trish shook her head. ‘Unbelievable.’

  ‘Well, I know he made this mistake, but I do think he’s doing a sterling job,’ said Tom, diplomatically. ‘I’d hate to be in his shoes.’

  ‘Well, that’s your view, but I’d quite like to be in his shoes,’ said Trish. ‘I’d love a prestigious job like that.’

  Tom could sense his wife’s annoyance and realised it was futile to continue the subject.

  ‘Well, I’ve got a bit of news,’ he said, brightly.

  ‘Really?’

  ‘I’m going to a conference in Cambridge. Just a couple of days, in a fortnight’s time actually.’

  ‘That’s soon, why the short notice?’

  ‘Because Gerald can’t go, we are only sending one person from the two super-hubs, and so the dubious honour has fallen to me.’

  ‘What’s it about?’

  ‘Safeguarding in clinical practice. A real roller-coaster of thrills and excitement.’

  ‘Time to catch up on your sleep then?’

  ‘I wish! I thought you could come with me and spend some time in Cambridge.’

  Trish didn’t reply.

  ‘I’m staying in a hotel so you could have a couple of days in the city, and we can have time together in the evenings. What do you say?’

  ‘I don’t think so, I want to be available to support Beth at the inquiry.’

  ‘It’s only two days, you need a break.’

  ‘Don’t start telling me what I need! I can make my own decisions. Besides I might need to do a bit of work to catch up as well.’

  ‘Oh, Trish, can’t you see, you are taking on too much. I can see the signs. You’ve not been sleeping well. You look tired and drawn.’

  ‘Thank you. Charmed I’m sure. You know how to boost my self-esteem. I’ll get on with dinner unless you think it’s too taxing for me.’

  ‘Oh, God,’ said Tom, leaning forward and putting his head in his hands. ‘Here we go again. Why do we keep going down this road?’

  ‘Because you keep trying to organise my life for me! You keep trying to take over!’

  ‘I’m not, it was just a casual suggestion. Forget I mentioned it.’

  ‘You do it without realising. It’s become second nature to you because you are so used to organising people at work.’ Trish began to pick at her skin graft which was still looking very inflamed and sore.

  ‘Arm still sore?’

  ‘Yes, a bit but before you ask, I’ve not been rubbing against any plants. I’ve been careful.’

  ‘I wasn’t going to,’ retorted Tom.

  They sat in silence avoiding each other’s gaze. Tom felt his phone vibrate and looked at the screen.

  ‘Look, Trish, I’ve got to say this, please don’t jump down my throat.’

  ‘Go on, I have an idea what you are going to say but why not get it out of your system.’

  ‘Have yo
u spoken to Francine about this? I think it would be helpful.’

  Francine was Trish’s counsellor and supervisor, and they had regular meetings.

  ‘Dinner in half an hour,’ said Trish, stomping off to the kitchen leaving Tom staring forlornly at the parched garden.

  Chapter 11

  ‘Another drink?’ asked Izzy.

  ‘Just a coke, thanks,’ replied Melanie.

  ‘What about something to eat? I think I’m going to have some pasta. We could share it?’

  ‘I’m not hungry, perhaps a packet of crisps?’

  ‘OK, I’ll get those. You can see how you feel when my meal comes. I’ll just be a couple of minutes.’

  They were sitting at a table in the garden of The Miller pub which at that time on a Monday evening wasn’t busy. The two friends had been able to have a private chat, and at times Melanie had broken down but she had to admit to herself that she did feel better than she had all day. Izzy had been so kind to her and she felt embarrassed at the way she’d initially greeted her. Perhaps when she was feeling better she could make it up to her, invite her out for a meal or around to her flat.

  ‘Here you are,’ she said, putting down the drinks. ‘You are looking a bit better since we’ve been here. I’m so glad you told me about, well, about...’ her words petered out and she nodded at Melanie’s left arm which still bore a large dressing.

  ‘I’m going to speak to my counsellor tomorrow, well not the same one, Trish, she’s off for a couple of weeks but if I explain, I’m sure they will get me an appointment with someone.’

  ‘Oh, Mel, that’s so good to hear. Let me give you a hug,’ said Izzy, reaching over and embracing her friend, whilst taking care to avoid her scarred left arm.’

  ‘I feel such a fool. I just sort of spiralled down into a hole and it was impossible to claw my way out. I even thought, well....’ her eyes filled with tears. ‘You know what I thought.’

  ‘I can stay tonight or why don’t you come to my place?’

  ‘What about Rob?’

  ‘Oh, he can stay at a mate’s house. He’ll love that! I’ll phone him now to explain, what do you say?’