by Neil Wild
“So what did you read?”
Lisa looked at him straight in the face with that look he knew was a challenge.
“Women’s, Gender and Sexuality Studies.”
Brakespeare struggled with his emotions, and to keep a smile from his face. However it somehow fitted her persona. He could see her championing women’s rights, whatever they might be. He decided to remain silent and take a sip from his glass.
“Then I got involved with somebody in my sophomore year. I became pregnant.”
She eat her meat to allow time for Brakespeare’s reaction. Again he forced himself to remain silent. These waters were becoming both deep and murky. On the other hand, Lisa was demonstrating trust in him; baring her soul like this. There was a silence while she finished the portion.
“I didn’t keep it. I went to a clinic and they took it away. I didn’t think it mattered. It was just a blip in the relationship. We could have had more later. That’s what I thought, but he dumped me.”
It was obviously painful to her to tell the story, and she attacked her steak again with her knife and fork. Brakespeare sat patiently and continued to eat his meal. He knew from his experience with clients, that it was better to let them confide slowly painful memories rather than ask any questions.
“It was in the middle of my second year. I had a breakdown. I left Yale, and came to England. My mother has a sister in Bristol. I had a year out, but my tutor kept in touch with me. He knew someone at the University of the West of England, and got me a place there, to start a law degree, which you can do straight away in England. Nobody knew me, so that was O.K.” She laughed to show that it wasn’t.
“Well somehow I got through the next 3 years, but as I think I told you, I didn’t get a good degree. With all the baggage I was carrying, I guess I just coasted through. I wanted to be a barrister, but I just couldn’t face the Bar with all those cocky, confident, Hooray Henry’s and stuck up bitches. They’re just so…so, British.” She spat her words out.
“Oh, come on.” said Brakespeare. “They’re not all like that; the Bar’s changing.”
“But they’re still all trained to behave as if they have their head up their bottoms. Look at Mister Breezie.”
“Point taken.”
“So I started looking for legal work through an agency to make a start in the law, and ended up here. Worcester, Massachusetts to Worcester, England. It was as if it was all intended, so here I came”
“And lived happily ever after.”
“No, “ she said slowly. “Not quite. I met Gordon.”
Brakespeare did not need the situation spelling out. Gordon Morrison and she were involved with one another. Of course it might be that she was more involved than he was. Brakespeare too had experienced female staff showing all the signs of having a crush on him. Even spotty Tracy went out of her way to smile at him. It was one of those things that happened in life – especially offices. Such relationships usually ended in tears.
Lisa suddenly looked up.
“Why have you made me tell you this, Jonny Brakespeare.”
“I haven’t.”
“You have. I’ve never told anybody, and then you come along and…”
She did not have to finish her sentence for Brakespeare to immediately understand.
“We’re a team”. she had said.
“So what about Gordon. What’s he like?”
“Nice, just very nice. Someone I could trust. He helped me get back on my feet. Gave me confidence. Restored my self esteem.”
“Is that all?”
She had finished eating, and pushed a still half full plate away.
“Why do you men always think of that?”
“What?”
“Sex. S-E-X. That’s what you mean isn’t it?”
“Yes, it happens occasionally between men and women.” Brakespeare said.
“Well, it happened to us too.” Again she paused for thought. “Look, I shouldn’t be telling you this, but there’s no point in hiding things. Not now anyway. Gordon isn’t happily married. Oh, he has all the trappings of a prosperous solicitor, nice house, nice cars, nice wife. But he and his wife don’t love each other any more.”
“And so you…..”
She nodded. “Only three or four times.”
Brakespeare raised his eyebrows.
“Oh it all went horribly wrong. It always does for me. He felt guilty that he was letting his family down. Then the secret got out. His brother in law, Breezie had a go at him and then rang the office to have a go at me; then the Partners in the firm had a go at me, and I nearly lost my job over it, but Gordon stuck up for me. He took all the blame. Said that it was his fault for having taken advantage of a member of staff. Everyone knows, Jonny. They treat me like a leper.”
“Ah, I wondered why you and Margaret did not seem to get on.”
“Margaret, huh.” She gave a short laugh. “Margaret is only jealous because he never wanted to get into her knickers!”
“And why Mortimer keeps warning me away from you.”
“Does he?”
Brakespeare nodded.
“Why do you stick it out?” he asked.
“Where would I go. What would I say when they ask me why I left my last job; that I got screwed by the Boss?!”
“Point taken.”
“So I’ll just sit it out and take my Legal Executive Exams, and then probably move on.”
“Return to the States?”
“Maybe. I don’t know.””
Brakespeare sat back and pushed his plate away, only it was empty.
“Well I thought that I had problems. What you’ve told me explains a lot. It seems that we’re both a pair of emotional cripples. Gosh, what would Newberry say if he knew.”
“He does know Jonny. He knows everything. He and Gordon are mates.”
“And he doesn’t mind?”
“He’s also an ‘emotional cripple’ as you so nicely put it. Why should he mind?”
“That’s true,” said Brakespeare, thinking of Newberry’s marital situation. He decided to take the plunge. “So won’t you come out with me then?”
Lisa sat upright in physical shock, then relaxed and smiled her softest smile at him.
“I would Jonny – but I can’t. I can’t let Gordon down, not now that he’s so ill. He needs me.”
“Do you see him?!”
“When his wife goes out.”
“And now?”
“I go to the hospital when she can’t.”
“Does she know”
“I think so; it’s one of those unspoken things.”
“Is that where you went the other night, when we went for drinks – the hospital?”
Lisa nodded.
“We’ll that’s a lot of baggage we’re both carrying.”
“Sure, but now that it’s out on the table, Jonny, we just have to ignore it and get on. We’re professional colleagues. We’ve a case to fight and we need to get on with it for both our sakes. We both need this result as much as David Newberry.”
“Yes you’re right. We’ll be ships passing in the night.”
“Don’t say that.” Lisa surprised him. Her eyes were brimming with tears again. This was getting complicated.
“I’m only here for the duration of Gordon’s illness.”
Tears started to run down Lisa’s face.
“He’s not coming back, Jonny”
“What?”
“His brain tumour. They tried to take it out, but it’s too far gone and they couldn’t take all of it away. He’s dying.”
Brakespeare was in shock. No-one had explained this to him. Did this indefinite period of employment mean ‘forever’? Did he want it to be forever? Could he see himself permanently in Worcester? Did they expect him to stay?
Now there was the added emotional ingredient of Lisa. Oh, why didn’t he leave her alone? What was she looking for? Did she know what she was looking for? Did he know what he was looking for?
&n
bsp; “Aren’t you going to say anything, Jonny?” she asked as he became lost in his thoughts.
“Oh, shit.” He said it slowly, and looked into her eyes. She looked directly back and nodded in agreement.
chapter twenty
Brakespeare was late for work the next morning. He and Lisa had continued talking until eleven o’clock, and then, with a mutual peck on the cheek, they had each gone their separate ways.
Tired out though he was, he had not been able to get to sleep until the small hours. Everything involving him seemed unnecessarily complicated. No wonder everyone seemed to tiptoe round Lisa. Did she now have a sexless relationship? Well it would be one if Morrison was dying of a brain tumour. No wonder she didn’t want to go to a conference with Breezie, the brother in law.
Somehow he had lost his enthusiasm for the job, and wondered whether or not to resign. That would really cause problems. He would be damned by the employment agency forever. No, he had to see this one through, like it or not.
Margaret must have sensed that he was feeling out of sorts. She almost tiptoed round him as she sorted the files and the morning post, and he desultorily dictated what he could until eleven o’clock when Newberry arrived.
Lisa brought in the letter that she had finished. She smiled at him, but neither felt the need to say anything much. Did that mean that their relationship was now at a new level. A level where they understood each other and conversation was not a requirement?
There was still a pile of files left at eleven o’clock. Brakespeare picked up the telephone, and, dialling Lisa’s extension number asked her to come in.
“I’ve got to start taking Newberry’s statement now. Would you mind taking these files and doing what you can with them. I don’t know how long taking Newberry’s statement is going to take, but if you would look after this work, I’ll then take it back when you go through the exhibits with him. If you get stuck, ask me. O.K.?”
Lisa showed no visible reaction, but nodded pleasantly and took three loads of files to her room.
“Ask Mr. Newberry up”, he commanded Tracy over the telephone.
“Sit down,” he also commanded Newberry as he came into the office. “ I have some more good news,” and he explained the events of the previous night to a visibly relaxing Newberry.
“So we’ve won do you think. No need to make these long statements that Breezie wants?”
“Far from it. The prosecution ship is leaking, but there’s no sign of it foundering yet, and so we still have to prepare for battle. Now I’m going to dictate your statement in your presence, and when we’ve finished that, Lisa will take over and take you though the exhibits.”
“Lisa?” Newberry looked almost alarmed.
“She’s a bright girl, and after all it is her, and not me who has discovered these flaws in the prosecution case. She will take you through the exhibits.” The last sentence was said firmly and as an order.
“ If you say so.”
“Now before we start I think I’ve got an idea of most of your story. What I haven’t got is how it all came to a head. If we can just run through that, and then I’ll dictate a statement chronologically; you can stop and correct me, and we can add or alter things as we go along. O.K?”
Newberry nodded and gave out a big sigh.
“So how did it all come to a head. There you are in London with Clearfield a major client of the National; then the recession came in.”
“The property market just froze. Building Society repossessions rose as borrowers could not meet the rising interest rates; that forced down the price of houses – and flats of course, and Clearfield just could not sell it’s properties.
As I think I’ve said, they let them out to Local Authorities, on what they thought initially was for a short term, but eventually they could not meet the mortgage interest. Masters was planning to turn the Building Society, as it then was, into a Bank.”
“And no doubt make a killing.”
“Absolutely. Clearfield’s bad debt was a blot on the balance sheet and so he had to do something. At first he instructed the Society’s own security department to make a check. All that they could come up with was that the Clearfield properties were in my patch. Then they started getting the valuations from Black, as you know. Next thing I know I’m suddenly suspended from work ‘pending further investigation.’
Nothing seemed to happen for months and then, suddenly, one morning at about half past seven, there’s a knock on the door, and a couple of plain clothes police from Birmingham are standing there. I’m asked to dress – I had been in bed, and driven up to some grotty Police Station in the Black Country.”
“Not Birmingham,” asked Brakespeare, surprised.
“No, Old Hill I think it was. The back of beyond. The station looked as if it hadn’t changed since the last century. Even the mug they brought me some tea in was a ‘Staffordshire Constabulary’ one.
Anyway they took me before a sergeant who asked me for my details, took all my possessions including my shoes and banged me up in a cell.”
“How long were you there for?”
“No idea, they took my watch. Then they took me out and interviewed me. It was a waste of time. It mainly consisted of them showing me the valuations for the Clearfield properties, asking me whether I had done them, and if I had, whether I stood by my valuation.”
“What did they say about those valuations that you hadn’t done.”
“They just asked me if I had tried to influence the valuation.”
“Which you denied.?”
“Which I denied.”
“And what was their reaction to that?”
“Quite honestly, they didn’t seem to care. It was as if they were just going through the motions.”
“How long did the interview last?”
“Not sure, I got home almost 18 hours later.”
“Did they take you back.”
“Yes, one of the coppers did.”
“Did he say anything?”
“About the case – not a lot. It was mainly small talk. He did say though that he didn’t think that I had a lot to worry about.” Newberry laughed hollowly. “Never listen to a copper.”
“O.K. Well I think that a transcription of your interview is in the Exhibits, and Lisa’ll take you through that.”
Brakespeare shuffled through the papers on his desk, and picked up his dictation machine.
“Right, let’s roll” said Jonny, resisting the temptation to stand and walk around the room, and dictated into the machine. “I David Newberry of 486 Worcester Road, Great Malvern, Worcestershire will say:-“….
It took longer than Brakespeare had thought to take Newberry through his story. He would often challenge what Brakespeare wanted to dictate.
“I never said that one of my reasons for investing in Clearfield was to ‘provide for my old age’. It is just not the sort of comment that I am ever likely to make. It is out of character for me.”
“What was it then?”
“I viewed it as a long term investment upon which I might rely when I had retired from the National.”
Unable to see the difference, Brakespeare nonetheless dictated what he was told. It was Newberry’s statement, not his.
“Can I have my statements to check before they go any further?” asked Newberry as they finished.
Brakespeare groaned inwardly; the man had already heard what he had dictated.
“Of course”, he said, and dictated. “Send a copy to Mr. Newberry”, into the machine. ”Well so far so good. I’m going to hand you over to Lisa for the next stage”.
“And what are you going to be doing.”
“I’m going to concentrate on seeing if there is any more documentary evidence out there. I also have to arrange another conference, - as well as trying to keep other clients serviced. Now, if you wouldn’t mind going down into reception, I’ll get Lisa to come and see you and make arrangements for you to come in.”
“When?”
“I’ll see if she can start tomorrow, if you like. It shouldn’t take long as she will merely require you to say if you have seen any documents before, and, if so, what they represent.”
“O.K.” muttered an ungrateful Newberry. He paused. “Thanks Jonny. I’m sorry but when everything seems to be stacked against you….” he gestured to the boxes.
“I know. Do you want to go down onto reception, and I’ll send Lisa down to make an appointment to see you.”
As soon as Newberry had left the room, he called Lisa and told her what to do. After he had replaced the receiver, he thought for a few minutes and dialled a number had had not called in years.
“C.P.S. Birmingham.”
“Is Joe Gargan available, please?”
“Who’s calling”
“Jonny Brakespeare.” There was a pause and then “Oh, hello Jonny,” the girl said, sounding a little surprised, “I’ll just put you through.”
There was a pause before Gargan’s characteristic greeting.
“Top of the day to you Jonny. And for what is it that I have the pleasure of this call.”
“Top of the day to you, Joe. Joe, I’m not making this call.”
There was a silence. Gargan knew instantly why Brakespeare had called.
“Following our conversation the other week, could you find out from Durkin if there is any material; evidence, documents etc. that have not been used as exhibits?”
“Do you think that there is.”
Brakespeare explained the correspondence that Lisa had found.
Joe was silent again.
“Well if there was anything else, I never saw it. I only saw the statements that you have and the surveyors report. I never saw this correspondence.”
“And if you had seen it?”
“Well I’d have had a stick to beat Masters with, and the Boss would have been able to force him to take my advice.”
“Quite.”
“To be sure there’s something not quite right here. Let me make a phone call or two. I’ll call you right back. What’s your number.”
Brakespeare gave it to him.
“Speak to you soon.” Said Gargan.
“Look forward to it.” Replied Brakespeare, meaning every word of it.
