by Susan Lewis
Helen said, “I’m truly sorry I’m not yet able to tell you what you want to hear, but there’s still a way to go before your husband is released.”
Claudia said, “Seven weeks—not that we’re counting.”
With a sympathetic smile Helen checked her mobile as it vibrated on the table. “I have to take this,” she said. “I hope you don’t mind. It’s about another case,” she added, clearly not wanting to get hopes up unnecessarily.
As she went through to the sitting room, Andee said, “Have you seen Dan’s report of our meeting with Archie yet?”
“He’s bringing it over later,” Claudia replied. “Have you?”
Andee smiled wryly. “I helped write it. I think it’s thorough, and fair. There’s no doubt in our minds that Archie is genuinely remorseful—and from the conversations we’ve had with you guys, we’ve gone with the assumption that you agree with that.”
Claudia looked at her mother. “I think we do?” she prompted.
Marcy said, “Who does the report go to?”
“That usually depends on who’s requested it,” Andee replied. “The police, social workers, parole officers . . . In this case, because Dan and I initiated it ourselves we’ll probably give it to DCI Gould for him to sign off on before presenting it to the Crown Prosecution Service. Of course, Helen, as the head of Archie’s legal team, will have a copy too. It should prove an important and useful document for her.”
Returning to the kitchen, Helen said, “My apologies for that, but it does mean I have to get back to the office. You have my number if you need to call, and once again, please don’t give up. I’m sure we’ll have better news soon.”
Marcy said, “Before you go, can I ask you about Archie?”
“What would you like to know?” Helen replied kindly, “keeping in mind lawyer/client privilege, you understand.”
Marcy nodded. “Of course, and I’ll try not to put you in a difficult position. We’ve had another letter from him. Dan brought it yesterday.”
Helen nodded, showing that she was aware of this. “Does it contain something that’s bothering you?” she asked, concerned.
Marcy said, “I’d just like to know if you’ve managed to get his charge changed or dismissed yet?”
“You mean the attempted murder charge? We’re still waiting to hear back from the CPS on that. I’m afraid these things often take longer than we’d like them to. At this rate we’ll be in court before we get a response, and what a jolly fiasco that would turn out to be.”
Marcy was aware of Claudia watching her curiously, clearly wondering why she was asking. She hadn’t discussed this with anyone yet, but her mind was made up, and perhaps this was as good a time as any to tell them what she’d decided. “I think he should stand trial,” she said to Helen.
Helen’s surprise showed, as did everyone else’s.
“You mean for attempted murder?” Andee asked.
Marcy nodded. “Yes. Please will you tell him that I want him to stand trial for attempted murder.”
Chapter Forty-Five
It came as a big surprise to me when Dan requested a visit—I mean the kind of visit you usually get from mates or family, not the kind we usually have. I hadn’t been expecting to see him again until we went to court, and I wasn’t even sure if he’d be there then.
I can’t tell you how chuffed I was when the request came through, and by the time the day comes round I’m so pumped I can hardly wait to see him. I’m all prepared to give him my news (I don’t have any), and to tell him that next time he should come for a sleepover. Then I get to the visiting room, and talk about gobsmacked! Claudia’s only sitting there with him. I don’t get it at all, why would she come and see me?
When they get round to dropping the bombshell—that you want me to stand trial for trying to murder you—so much stuff spins round in my head, really bad stuff that I’m proper ashamed of now. But man, I was gutted. I swear I hadn’t seen it coming. Even though I hadn’t heard anything from you I never thought you still hated me. I thought we’d moved on from that, but then I realized that the reason you hadn’t wiped the floor with me during our visit was because you’d decided on another way of doing it.
I was so backed up with all the s*** giving me grief in my head that it took a while for me to catch up with what Claudia was saying—and by the time she’d finished I’m like totally done up. You want me to stand trial because you think there’s a good chance a jury might not find me guilty of attempted murder—and if they don’t it all goes away. But, if my lawyer presses for a lesser charge, the jury might be more inclined to accept it, and a guilty verdict will add it to my sentence for arson.
So suddenly, weirdly, attempted murder is looking like my best bet.
They’re not kidding it’s a gamble, but Dan thinks I should go for it, and apparently my lawyer’s up for it too. (She was going to come and tell me herself, but then Dan and Claudia asked if they could do it. I guess you already know that.)
Anyways, because it’s you who’s asking, I’m going to go for it. It’s a done deal that I’ll be in here for a good long time for the arson, so if things don’t work out what’s the difference? Only thing that bothers me is, if there’s going to be a trial, what’ll that mean for you? Will you have to give evidence?
Dan tells me that’s all under discussion, and what I need to focus on is the part I have to play. Helen’s coming sometime soon with a barrister to talk me through it all, so it seems everyone’s ahead of me. No surprise there.
It’s not till after they’ve gone that I realize I forgot to ask about Huxley-Browne. Has anything happened there yet? I heard through the grapevine that BJ’s been remanded on drug charges, so he’ll be proper brickin’ it by now, and trying to get messages out letting everyone know they got nothing to worry about, he’s no snitch. Bet he is if there turns out to be something in it for him. I’m still scared it’s going to come back on me, but hey, it’s done now, can’t change it, I’ll deal with it when I have to. I’ve got other things to be thinking about now, like going over everything again in my head to make sure there’s nothing I’m missing.
Chapter Forty-Six
“Are you ready, Mum?” Claudia called from the front door.
“Coming,” Marcy called back. “I’ll just get the present. Be right there.”
With a sigh of exasperation Claudia read the text that had just arrived.
Am I meeting you at the restaurant? Dx
She texted back. That was the plan.
Great. On my way. See you there.
Tonight there was a big birthday celebration for Henry at the Crustacean, with all their closest friends invited. It had been her mother’s idea, and she was still fighting with Henry over who was going to pay for it. He’d lose because Claudia had already taken care of it, but she hadn’t bothered telling them that yet, since their squabbling was good entertainment. It was also the best feeling in the world to see her mother coming out of her shell again and even looking forward to things.
However, to say she was looking forward to Archie’s trial might be overstating it, but she’d been preparing for it with Helen for the past week or so, and remained determined to make an appearance on the stand on behalf of the defense. Naturally the prosecution had called her, it made sense for them to do so, but when she’d told them what she was, and was not, prepared to say they’d quickly dropped her. Quite why they hadn’t also dropped the attempted murder charge only they knew, although it presumably meant they remained confident of securing a guilty verdict.
Turning at the sound of a car coming through the open gates Claudia frowned into the darkness, trying to recognize it in the headlights.
“Who’s that?” her mother asked, joining her at the door.
“I don’t know, but whoever it is they need to stop . . . Now!”
The dark green Astra ended up inches from the driver’s door of Jasmine’s Mini, headlights blazing and causing sparks of alarm to shoot through Claudia.
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Putting an arm across her mother she was about to push her back into the house when a scrawny little woman in a yellow parka and green wellies all but tumbled out of the Astra.
“Ell—oh!” she shouted, hurrying awkwardly toward them. “I’m Archie’s ma, Maria. Sorry to bother you. Ah you Ma-cee Kavnuh?”
As she came closer, they could see the twist of her mouth and crooked bones in her face, and realizing who she was, Marcy threw a surprised glance at Claudia as she stepped forward.
“Hello, Maria,” she said. “I’m Marcy. Is everything all right?”
“Yeah. Ev-thing fine. Just want to ask please can I clean fo’ you to say sorry fo’ wha’ my boy did, een tho he din mean to. No charge. Can come any day tha’ sues you.”
Marcy wasn’t sure what to say, could only connect with the strangeness of being approached like this.
“Maria, I think—” Claudia began.
“Is ma way to make up to you,” Maria interrupted. “He can’ do himself because of bein’ in prison.”
Claudia said firmly, “We’re about to go out, but we’ll discuss your offer and give you an answer soon. Is that OK?”
Maria’s lopsided mouth broke into a smile, and her eyes were bright with gratitude as she said, “Thas OK. I can wait. Thank you, thank you,” and went swiftly back to her car.
Claudia and Marcy watched as she crunched it into gear and prayed as she revved up that she would find reverse. She did, but they remained silently staring as she shot backward down the drive as if she’d just been sprung from a bow.
“What the f—” Jasmine cried, finally able to leap out of her Mini.
“We’ll explain on the way,” Claudia told her. “We need to go.”
TWENTY MINUTES LATER, after agreeing to talk more about how they should respond to Maria’s unexpected offer, they ran into the restaurant to find they were the last to arrive. A worried Henry spotted them first and hurried over to greet Marcy, who’d left his gift in the car so they went off to get it.
“Hey you,” Dan said, coming to plant a kiss on Claudia’s cheek. So familiar and so typical of the public greeting he gave her now that they were five official dates into a relationship.
“Hey you,” she murmured back. “You’re looking very dashing.” He was, in his dark suit and pale blue shirt (no tie), but for her it was always the glasses that did it. And him, just for being him.
“And you’re looking ravishing,” he told her. “I don’t think I’ve seen that dress before.”
With a playful smile she said, “There’s a lot you haven’t seen before, but if you remembered to pack for a sleepover . . . ?”
His eyes narrowed in his version of seductive as he looked into hers. “I did,” he replied, leaving her in little doubt of how pleased he was to have done so.
“Good, because it seems everyone’s going in different directions from here—Jasmine’s off clubbing with Abby, and Mum’s going home with Henry.”
His eyebrows shot up. “Seriously?”
“Seriously. Mum decided Henry shouldn’t be on his own on his birthday, so she drove her things over there earlier and came home again to get ready.”
“Wow,” he murmured. “So, it’s going to be just us at the coach house tonight.”
“Just us. Oh, but remind me to tell you about the visit we just had from Archie’s mother. It was . . . I’m not actually sure what it was, or how we should deal with it, but now’s not the time. We should mingle.”
Since all the regular crowd was there, and everyone was so fond of teasing Henry, it quickly turned into a rowdy and even raucous evening. Claudia was so happy to be a part of it that she all but forgot about the clock ticking down on Marcus’s release. However, this was no time to be thinking about it, they were safe here, in this restaurant among friends, and knowing what the evening held with Dan was making everything feel like a wonderful dream coming true.
It was after the main course had been cleared that Richie came to sit beside her, taking the chair that Graeme had just vacated. “You know, I’m going to be covering the trial next week?” he asked quietly.
“Of course,” she replied, her smile fading at the reminder. “We’d expect you to.”
“So, would it be OK to ask your mother for an interview before it starts? You know, to find out how she’s feeling about taking the stand?”
Simply hearing it put into words made Claudia’s heart contract with nerves. “You should ask her, but to be honest, I’m starting to wonder if I’m more uptight about it than she is.”
With a smile Richie said, “She’s a remarkable woman. There aren’t many who’d do what she’s doing—with scars, or without.” He stood, waving to a friend.
“Between us, I wish she’d change her mind, but I can’t see it happening. Now, it looks as though the cake is about to arrive.”
As it was wheeled in full of sparklers and candles, the whole restaurant broke into “Happy Birthday,” and as Henry, beaming with delight, prepared to say thank you, Claudia felt Dan’s arm go around her.
Leaning her head on his shoulder she whispered, “How long before we can go?”
He was about to respond when Richie popped back. “I meant to ask,” he said, keeping his voice down as Henry launched into a speech, “has Marcy visited the prison at all?”
“No,” Claudia replied. “She hasn’t wanted to use up his mother’s time with him, and I think she’s worried about how the other inmates might react when they see her.”
“Got you,” Richie responded. “She’s met with the lawyers by now though?”
“She’s spent a lot of time with Helen Hall and the barrister, Gordon Lock. We’re told he’s a Queen’s Counsel with an impressive reputation.”
“I hear the prosecution are putting their own QC up against him.”
She nodded, feeling anxious and fearful. Her mother was extremely brave to be doing this, especially when she had zero experience in a courtroom. Claudia just hoped to God that the prosecuting lawyer didn’t end up tearing her still fragile confidence to shreds. “If things don’t go as we’d like them to,” she said to Richie, “you’ll treat her well in your reports, won’t you?”
“You have my word on it,” he promised, “but I’ll lay money they’ll find him not guilty once they’ve heard what she has to say.”
“And that,” Claudia said to Dan as Richie returned to his own seat between Jasmine and Abby, “is what’s making me more nervous than anything, the way everyone seems so certain that she, all on her own, is going to swing things in Archie’s favor. The pressure on Mum is enormous. She won’t talk about it, she says there’s no point if I try to bring it up, but I know she’s worried and I think quite a big part of her is actually regretting saying she’ll do this.”
“She can always pull out,” Dan told her seriously. “It’s still possible for the verdict to go in his favor even if she doesn’t take the stand.”
“That’s what I’ve told her. I’ve even tried warning her that the prosecution could accuse her of trying to manipulate the jury with sight of her injuries.”
“Believe me, no sane lawyer would do that to a victim who is brave enough to stand up for her attacker when she’s clearly scarred for life. I think you need to try and stop worrying, trust her to know what she’s doing, but make sure she’s aware that if she does want to change her mind no one, I mean no one, will think worse of her for it.” His eyes seemed to enlarge behind his glasses as he added, “I only wish the real guilty parties were facing trial, but we haven’t given up hope of that yet.”
Her brow was still furrowed.
Pressing a kiss to her head he murmured, “Would it be possible to put this aside now and be just us?”
With a smile as she returned to the present she said, “Of course,” and for once it wasn’t hard to let go of the tension inside her, not when she had so much to look forward to later.
THE FOLLOWING AFTERNOON Marcy returned to the coach house from Henry’s, and as her eyes me
t Claudia’s across the kitchen it was clear that they were both finding it hard to stop smiling.
“So, it went well for you, with Dan?” Marcy asked casually as she dropped her overnight bag and shrugged off her coat.
“It did, thank you. And from the look of you I’m guessing it went well for you, with Henry?”
Marcy laughed. “I’m glad Jasmine’s not around to hear us, I can just imagine what she might say, or maybe I’d rather not,” and going to fill the kettle she began making tea.
“So, are you up for discussing Maria’s offer?” Claudia asked, as they took their mugs through to the sitting room.
Marcy felt a strange tightness inside as she thought about it, and wasn’t sure whether it was resistance, or guilt, or even annoyance at having to deal with it. She’d far rather carry on thinking about Henry and replaying what a big step it had been for her to stay with him last night. And how tender he had been. Then she pictured the tiny woman’s pleading face, and found herself wondering how she must be feeling now, with her son in prison and her conscience trying to make amends for his crime.
With a sigh, she drank some tea and put her mug on the table. “So, what are your thoughts?”
“Well, frankly,” Claudia began, “I think it would be extremely odd—to put it mildly—to employ the mother of the person who set fire to our house. It doesn’t feel right at all, in fact it feels distinctly wrong, but at the same time I can’t help feeling sorry for her.”
Marcy smiled reflectively. “I know what you mean. And let’s not forget, she’s not to blame for what happened. She’s just a mother trying to do her best, the way any mother would . . .”
They sat quietly for a while, mulling over Maria’s brief and unexpected visit again until Claudia said, “If we tell her no, how are we going to feel after?”
Marcy sighed. “Knowing us we’ll worry about having hurt her feelings.”
Being in little doubt of that, especially where her mother was concerned, Claudia said, “But we don’t owe her anything.”
