Chapter 51
Will sat by his wife’s bed in the Kent and Canterbury hospital. She was heavily sedated after a long emergency operation in the early hours during which, she had lost a lot of blood. For a while, it had been touch and go as to whether she would survive but fortunately being in reasonably robust health, she had clung on to life. Either as a result of her leg trauma or from an electric shock, she had suffered a cardiac arrest. Had she not been hit by the train, she would doubtless have been fused to the live rail and would have perished.
Will dozed from time to time in the chair, but it was a restless sleep, tormented by demons and images of what had happened, or as certain as he could be about the events of the evening. When his wife regained consciousness, she would hopefully be able to paint a full picture of what had transpired, providing that the trauma of the situation didn’t cause her brain to repress the memories.
The last time Will had been in the hospital with Gina was when she had given birth to their son, Marcus. He was currently on his way down from Cambridge, desperate to see his mother. It would be a heart-rending reunion, poles apart from the upcoming trip to Cambridge they had been planning. Gina’s body had been mutilated by the amputation of her left leg, below the knee, but the deeper trauma would doubtless be the psychological one. Exactly how she would respond to that challenge was for the future, requiring many hours of counselling to cope with both the horror of her ordeal and to come to terms with life as an amputee.
The doctor responsible for his wife entered the room and nodded at Will. He checked the monitors, made some notes on her charts then left quietly, leaving Will alone with his thoughts and anxieties.
**
The detectives had returned to their communal office, the CID room. Both looked drained and tense and were sipping cups of coffee. DI Whitehead had loosened his tie, and his forehead looked slightly greasy.
‘Do you think she’s insane?’ asked his colleague.
‘I don’t know, she’s obviously very depressed, and she says she’s been having flashbacks. Her mood fluctuates a lot. One minute she’s very upset and the next moment she’s really fluent and composed. Of course, we’ll have to get a psychiatric assessment.’
‘At some moments she appeared so cool and detached it was unnerving.’
‘Yes, that’s what doesn’t quite ring true. We might be able to pursue an attempted murder charge.’
‘Really? She’d have to admit to that though, without witnesses it will be difficult.’
‘It’s early days, we can continue to question her. I just have this gut feeling that it’s not a suicide attempt,’ he paused. ‘Someone who claims to have attempted suicide would normally be much more agitated and traumatised.’
‘I could hardly believe what I was hearing,’ said the sergeant, shaking his head. At one point, I thought it was like a Hollywood film, so unreal,’ he exhaled.
‘We need to interview Ms Overton. The trouble is it’s one person’s word against another. The train driver can only be certain he saw two people fighting. He had no idea whether one was trying to push the other.’
‘I’ll phone the hospital soon and see when we can go and interview the poor woman.’
‘At the very least, Mrs Webster is looking at a charge of endangering life, drugging, wounding etc. They are serious charges.’
‘She’s admitted all those. I wonder whether her solicitor will claim diminished responsibility?’
‘It’s too soon to tell, come on, let’s see what the Super has to say.’
**
‘Come in Tom,’ said Beth, standing back and ushering him inside. ‘Go through.’
‘Hi, come in, can I get you a drink?’ asked Derek Sheldon.
‘Oh, well, just a small one. Whisky please.’
Tom sat down and waited for his hosts to speak. He was still numb after the recent events, and tomorrow his wife would be appearing in court. The police had told Tom that she would be charged with drugging and threatening Gina, wounding and endangering her life. She would be refused bail and would be remanded in custody pending trial and psychiatric evaluation
‘Tom, we just don’t know what to say but if we can help in any way, just shout. It’s still not sunk in properly. I can’t believe that Trish intended to do those things,’ said Beth.
‘The worse thing is I feel responsible.’
‘But you mustn’t blame yourself,’ said Beth.
Tom ignored her as he unburdened his feelings, ‘Thinking back I don’t know, perhaps there were signs, it’s impossible for me to think straight, my brain is completely scrambled. Tom put his drink down and put his head in his hands.
Beth and Derek looked at each other.
‘You can always come and stay here for a few days if you would like? The spare room’s free. It might help you to have some company?’ offered Beth.
Tom smiled. ‘That’s kind of you, but just at the moment, I want to be on my own at home. Perhaps I could come around for a meal sometime?’
‘Of course, anytime, just give me a call,’ she replied. ‘At least I can feed you and make sure you have some good food.’
‘You never know you might start to look like me!’ said Derek, patting his midriff. He suddenly regretted his words as he felt he was being too jovial under the circumstances. To his relief, Tom didn’t appear offended.
‘I’ll get you to take up jogging, I’ll convert you!’ laughed Tom.
‘Ha, no chance. I’m too old, mate.’
‘So, when will you be able to see Trish?’ asked Beth.
‘Well, tomorrow in court and then the next day I hope to take her a few things, books, CDs, that sort of thing as well as more clothes.’
‘Well, let’s hope that she will be released after the assessment, though she might need to go into a secure unit I suppose to get treatment?’
‘Who knows? It’s all so uncertain at the moment,’ said Tom. ‘I just want her with me, to look after her and make her better.’
‘I still find it hard to believe that she managed to drug that woman. I don’t know, it’s just so odd,’ said Derek.
‘She’s harboured so much resentment it’s been eating away at her,’ replied Tom. ‘I knew she’d had a tough time at school, but I didn’t know how much she was still tormented by it.’
‘She must have hidden it well, you mustn’t blame yourself.’
‘I can’t help it. I knew that she always felt she hadn’t achieved her potential. It’s so sad.’
‘I know,’ said Beth.
‘Trish is so clever you know. She would have done even better if she’d stayed at that school. She won a scholarship, and that must mean something.’
The Sheldons didn’t really know what to say, and besides, there wasn’t much point in pressing about Trish’s childhood. They were conscious that they might be upsetting Tom further.
‘What about work? When do they want you back?’ asked Beth.
‘They’ve been very good really. I’m signed off for two weeks, and then I need to let them know how I am. I can’t think too far ahead at the moment.’
‘Only go back if you feel up to it,’ she advised, ‘don’t let them pressurise you.’
‘I won’t. Anyway, I’d better go. I’m going to try to get some sleep, I feel exhausted. I was at the police station after, well, after it happened and I’ve not slept since the night before that.’
‘OK, take care. Drive safely and remember what we said.’
‘I will.’
‘Oh, I forgot. How are those guinea-pigs getting on? Are they much trouble?’
‘No, not much trouble. I think I’ll enjoy looking after them, they are company for me. Not very talkative though but they do whistle at me from time to time!’
Beth and Derek smiled. At least Tom was showing a bit of levity despite the tragic circumstances. How was it possible that someone who had worked for so long helping others and counselling them through their mental torments had been hiding an even deeper pain
within herself?
Beth kissed Tom goodbye, and he walked slowly down the path to his car. His gait was slow and his posture stooped, weighed down by the weight of his sorrow and anguish. They stayed at the door to wave him off and then slowly headed back inside.
‘God, that was awful,’ said Derek. ‘I need another drink myself.’
‘What do you make of all that?’ said Beth.
‘I’m not sure,’ he replied.
‘I still can’t believe she wanted to injure someone else so seriously. It must have been an accident.’
‘Maybe you’re right, I don’t know, but she’s a very sick woman.’
‘I just hope she can get good treatment and then Tom will have her back home.’
Derek drank his whisky and stared out into the garden, taken up with his personal thoughts and memories of their friend Trish.
**
Gina was drifting in and out of consciousness as she was continuing to receive mild sedation and the effects of the anaesthetic were still lingering.
‘Can I get you anything, darling?’ he asked. ‘What about a proper coffee from the shop? Or tea?’
‘Nothing, thank you,’ replied Gina. ‘I’m fine with water.’ She spoke softly and slowly.
Gina lay propped up on her pillows and when she was awake, stared into the distance. Her expression was blank, and she said little to her husband, although she held his hand for much of the time he was with her. Will wondered whether it would be better if she could cry to release some of the emotion which must surely be trapped inside her body, but perhaps the drugs were suppressing those deeper feelings. He had never seen her so quiet and distant.
‘Things have finally come full circle,’ she said to Will. ‘It’s taken what? Thirty-eight years for my past to catch up with me. No doubt if I’d stayed in Manchester this would never have happened.’
‘Don’t upset yourself,’ said Will, holding his wife’s hand more tightly. ‘We can’t predict the future when we make decisions. You moved back here to be nearer to your mother, so you could care for her.’
‘But I deserve to be upset. It’s payback time for me. I guess I’ve been lucky to have escaped for so long, but one’s past usually catches up, eventually.’
‘You still have years ahead, and we are still together. The doctor said you can have a prosthesis and they are so much better than they used to be.’
Gina ignored her husband.
‘Deep down I knew what I’d done was wrong. Sometimes I toyed with contacting Patsy to apologise, or Trish as she calls herself. I might have been able to trace her. If I’d done that, then she would probably not have been so disturbed, and I would probably still have both legs.’
‘We all regret things we could have done. Don’t torture yourself.’
‘I was a coward in not trying to contact Trish, just like I was at school. My parents protected me and pandered to me. Spoilt me instead of instilling any proper discipline in me and so I used it to pick on people. I had an evil streak and I was disgusting. My bullying of her was relentless.’
‘I think you are exaggerating,’ said Will.
‘My parents sent me for lots of therapy including hypnotherapy, to help me accept what I’d done and move on. Perhaps that helped suppress my memories of being the class bully,’ she paused and closed her eyes. Will could see how tiring it was for his wife to speak about such emotional subjects. He squeezed her hand. ‘To some extent, I think it worked, and I was able to choose a career where I felt I was helping people. Prosecuting those who had done wrong. But when I agreed to give the talk at the school, I think the memories started to come to the surface. That must have been why I was so nervous.’
‘Well, it was a long time ago, and it can be difficult to know exactly how it was,’ said Will, trying to reduce some of Gina’s remorse.
‘Perhaps I still am disgusting? After all, a leopard never changes its spots.’
‘Look, this sort of talk isn’t helping you, nor me. It’s going to take a while, but we can rebuild our lives. I’m not going to give up on you, I love you too much.’
‘Well, I guess we are equal now, Trish and me. I might need a skin graft too.’ Gina held up her right arm which had also been badly damaged. Her leg, however, had been so badly injured that there had been no option but to amputate it.
‘Trish might not have her freedom for a while. She drugged you, threatened you and put you in danger.’
‘Maybe.’
‘Gina, there’s something I don’t quite understand about that night.’
‘Yes?’
You said she tried to commit suicide but can you be completely sure that was her motive?’
Gina remained silent.
‘You said there was a struggle, but might she not have been trying to kill you?’
‘I don’t know. My recollection is still confused. I remember her shouting I want it to end. I assume she meant she was done with life and wanted to kill herself.’
‘But she might also have meant she wanted it to end by killing you. Isn’t that more likely? After all, she had planned the whole thing in great detail.’
‘She wanted a confession from me, to make me feel fear. For once, she was in charge of me. I can understand why she did it.’
‘It’s not what should happen in a civilised society, however ill she is. It’s unforgivable.’
‘I’m not sure I belong in a civilised society,’ replied Gina. ‘She doesn’t deserve to go to prison.’
Will shook his head. He decided there was no point in continuing the discussion, not at this stage. In his opinion, there was a huge difference between bullying at school and what Trish had done. Even though it had festered and grown over many years, Trish’s response had been outrageous and cruel. Hopefully, Gina would have ample opportunity to talk through events, from the distant and recent past, with a trained professional. Somehow they should be able to repair the psychological damage.
Gina closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep once more. Will looked at her and tears fell silently from his eyes, how he wished they could turn back the clock. Part of him did wish they had remained in Manchester. Unlike his wife, he felt no sympathy whatsoever towards Trish Webster. As far as he was concerned, she was a psychopath and deserved to be locked up for a very long time. He carefully released his hand from Gina’s grip and sat back in the chair, alone with his thoughts, wiping away the tears which continued to flow forth unchecked.
Chapter 52
Trish was being held on remand in Her Majesty’s Prison Bronzefield in Surrey, about an hour and a half’s drive away for Tom, depending on traffic. The modern two-storey women’s and young offenders’ institute had been built in 2004 and housed around five hundred inmates. She had a single cell, which was small and austere but clean and private. Remand prisoners were allowed to wear their own clothes, and Trish had taken a small bag of items with her and Tom had another selection of clothes which he hoped were suitable. Many of the inmates had been victims of trauma and abuse which had driven them to criminal and desperate measures. Trish would be assessed to determine whether she was fit to enter a plea in court and what would be the best outcome regarding her long-term rehabilitation into society.
Remand prisoners were entitled to an hourly visit each day, between the hours of 2 p.m. and 5.30 p.m., bookable in advance. Obviously, Tom wanted to see her as much as possible, but he didn’t know whether he could maintain that level of support, as he would find the daily commute exhausting. Clearly, if and when he went back to work, he would have to reduce these visits. For the moment though, he had pushed that thought into the background. This was Trish’s first full day here, and he was desperate to comfort her.
After reporting in at the visitor reception where he had shown his identity documents, he had been ushered to another room where all his belongings and his person had been checked carefully by security, then finally to a waiting room where he sat with others visitors to await the reunion with their loved ones. He wa
s still having trouble absorbing the fact that he was within the confines of the prison walls. Could he ever have imagined Trish being incarcerated?
Eventually, they were allowed into the large airy visiting room filled with tables and chairs where he spotted Trish sitting at a table. She looked calm and composed, but her face looked thinner and her hair rather flat. Perhaps it was his imagination that she had lost weight, after all, she hadn’t been in here long. It was probably the strain of the situation which was making her look drawn. They hugged briefly, but Tom could tell she was merely going through the action, something was holding her back from showing him the affection she normally bestowed upon him.
‘I’ve brought you some things, I hope they are what you wanted.’
‘I’m sure they are fine,’ she replied without looking in the bag.
‘Also, before I forget, I’ve transferred fifty pounds to your account here so you can buy things from the shop. Let me know if you need it topping up any time.’
‘Thanks, I will.’
‘Do you want a tea or coffee?’
‘Er, tea please.’
‘OK, I’ll get us both one, there’s not much of a queue.’
Tom went over to the table in the corner where visitors could get drinks and paid for two teas. Whilst he was waiting, he looked over and saw that Trish was looking through the bag of items he’d brought along.
He returned to the table and set down the drinks.
‘Did you see that I’ve brought you some writing paper and envelopes? I got you some new books from the bestseller charts, I hope you like them.’
‘Are they murders?’ joked Trish.
Tom smiled, ‘Thrillers, I tried to choose ones you’d like, I hope you’ve not read them.’
‘Thank you. I’ve got a lot of time for reading in here.’
‘It’s so good to see you,’ said Tom. ‘Well, I mean, not in here but I miss you so much. Has your solicitor been to see you?’
‘Not yet. It’s too soon. Later in the week, I expect.’
A Form of Justice Page 27