by Susan Lewis
“You might say that, but don’t forget if she hadn’t turned in her own son, we’d probably still have no idea who actually set fire to the place.”
Accepting the truth of that, and actually admiring the courage it must have taken for Maria to do what she did, as well as all the distress it must have caused her at the time and since, Claudia said, “You’re right, we are indebted to her for that, and we always will be, but if we do take her on it’ll mean that she—and by extension, Archie—will always be with us, and I don’t think we want that, do we?”
Marcy shook her head as she thought. It was hard to imagine ever being past this time in their lives, of reaching a point when not everything would be about the fire, or her injuries, or Archie’s trial. “I’m wondering,” she said, “if we should make this a part of the forgiving process . . .” She broke off, not entirely sure if she meant what she was saying, if she even knew what the process was or how she felt about it. Of course, she knew the dictionary definition of forgiveness, and what it should entail, but words were easy, anyone could speak them, whereas actually connecting with that level of understanding and exoneration, making it real and relevant . . .
“No one’s saying you have to forgive anything,” Claudia told her gently.
Marcy’s eyebrows rose. “Isn’t that why we entered the RJ program?”
“Maybe. Yes, I suppose it is, but I know I’m still having a really hard time with it myself.”
Marcy frowned. “So, you’re not starting to forgive Archie?”
Claudia said, “I want this to be about you, Mum, not me. If forgiving, or working on forgiveness, helps you to move forward I’ll support you all the way, but it doesn’t mean that I feel the same.”
Marcy regarded her intently and allowed several minutes to pass. “I think,” she said eventually, “that what you’re actually having a difficult time with is being able to forgive yourself, but it wasn’t your fault, Claudia. None of it.”
“You say that, but if I hadn’t married Marcus . . .”
“You had no idea this would happen, none of us did. For heaven’s sake, you can’t carry that sort of guilt around with you forever, especially when it doesn’t belong to you. And if I thought you couldn’t let it go that would make everything a whole lot harder for me.”
Claudia’s eyes went down as the warning assailed her conscience, though she wasn’t sure it was making any difference. Sometimes she only had to look at her mother to feel a consuming, raging need to punish herself for having brought her to this.
“Claudia,” Marcy said firmly, “I am truly coming to believe that the only way either of us is ever going to be able to move on is through some kind of forgiveness, and that has to include you forgiving yourself. OK, I know it’s hard, I’m not finding it easy either, to empathize with Archie. God knows, a big part of me wants to say to hell with it, why should I forgive anyone after what’s been done to me? Let them suffer, let all the wrath of the gods rain down on them, but if I do that, I’m the one who’s going to end up a bitter and vengeful old woman. That’s not who I want to be, it really isn’t, but I’m sure it’s what will happen if I hang on to all the terrible things I feel. They’re corrosive, Claudia, even more damaging in their way than the fire. And it’s the same for you. You need to exorcize all the ugliness that’s come from knowing Marcus, because if you don’t he’ll always be with you.”
Claudia’s eyes widened in astonishment. “You’re surely not asking me to forgive him,” she protested.
“No, not at all. I understand that’s far too big an ask, for either of us, but going easier on yourself, being more understanding of your mistakes—that you couldn’t possibly have known were mistakes at the time—is every bit as important for you as it is for me. As a family we need to move on in as healthy a way as we can, and holding on to negative and destructive feelings about ourselves isn’t going to help us to do that.”
Claudia knew she couldn’t deny any of this, she didn’t even want to try, since she was perfectly aware that arguing a case for her self-loathing was as counterproductive as it was stupid. It was simply . . . It was simply what? It was so hard to know how she felt about anything, apart from responsible and brokenhearted about what her mother had been through, and would never escape. “I guess,” she said quietly, “that we have to accept that it’s going to take me longer to get the hang of forgiving than it seems to be taking you.”
Marcy’s tone was wry as she said, “Believe you me, I’m not there yet, I’m just going through the motions of it in the hope that it’ll become a reality. And actually, so far, it seems to be working.”
“You wouldn’t be doing what you are for Archie if it weren’t.”
“Maybe not, but surely you can see that he’s as much a victim in all this as he is an offender.”
“I suppose it’s one way of looking at it.”
“I’ve decided it’s the only way and not for him, for me.”
Going to sit beside her, Claudia took her damaged hand between both of hers and raised it to her lips.
“It was Dan who first told us,” Marcy went on, “that it’s often harder for the families of victims to forgive than it is the victim themselves, and it seems he’s right.”
Claudia gazed into her mother’s eyes seeing past the injuries to the beauty inside her. “I don’t deserve two such wonderful people in my life,” she said softly, “but I’m very glad I have you both.”
“And we’re very glad, and very lucky, to have you. Now what we still have to decide is, what should we do about Maria? Should we take Maria on, or shouldn’t we? Would it be a step forward, or will it keep us rooted to where we are?”
Chapter Forty-Seven
“I don’t understand it,” Marcy cried, looking from Helen to Andee and back again. “Can they do this? We’re due in court next week. Why have they waited until now to change the indictment?”
“It’s almost certainly because they’re no longer confident of getting a conviction for attempted murder,” Helen replied. “In my opinion that was a wrong call from the start, but now their barrister’s got hold of it they’ve apparently woken up to what they’re much more likely to be able to make stick.”
As Marcy fell silent, Claudia said, “So tell us again what he’s being charged with.”
Consulting her tablet, Helen read aloud, “‘Count one: aggravated arson with intention to destroy property.’ He’s already pleaded guilty to that so no issue there. It’s count two that’s the problem: ‘Aggravated arson being reckless as to whether life would be endangered.’”
Marcy said, “Is that as bad as it sounds?”
Helen’s expression was far from encouraging. “Attempted murder speaks to intent, and presenting a defense to demonstrate that there was no intention to take a life, which is what we were planning, is quite different from trying to convince a jury that there was no recklessness involved in the arson. Arson by its very nature is reckless.”
Marcy and Claudia looked at each other as they digested this new turn of events. “Have you told him?” Claudia asked turning back to Helen.
Helen nodded. “I spoke to him earlier. He’s still taking it in. We’re due to speak again later to discuss his plea.”
“What will you advise him to do?” Marcy wanted to know.
Helen shook her head and sighed. “If he pleads guilty to the second count as well as the first, the judge could be inclined to impose a lesser sentence.”
“So how long could it be?” Marcy asked.
“Worst-case scenario? Fifteen years.”
Marcy hadn’t realized until now quite how certain she’d felt that Archie would be found not guilty of attempted murder; this new charge was throwing her completely.
“Is there any chance of him being found not guilty on the second count?” Claudia asked.
Helen was clearly doubtful. “Criminal trials are as unpredictable as juries,” she replied, “so anything’s possible, but would I advise him to enter that plea? F
rankly, I don’t know if it’s the right call. I’m due to discuss it with Gordon Lock, his barrister, when he’s finished in court for the day. I’ll be interested to hear his opinion.”
Speaking for the first time, Andee said, “Something that is in Archie’s favor is the fact that the two counts are separate. If they were tied together as one, which they can be in a case like this, there wouldn’t be a chance of him being found not guilty.”
“This is true,” Helen confirmed, “and it’s the only reason I would counsel him to go ahead with a trial, slim as the chances are of him getting the verdict we all want.”
Claudia turned to her mother. “What do you think he should do?” she asked, aware that this was too big a question for someone who knew next to nothing about the law.
Marcy was trying to picture Archie in his cell. What was he thinking now? How afraid was he? Did he have anyone to talk to about how the door seemed to be closing on the rest of his young life? Probably not, until Helen called him again, and it was too late now to organize a visit to the prison.
Realizing they were waiting for her reply, she said to Helen, “I appreciate you have to leave now, but, Andee, can you stay? We need to talk this through with someone who has a better knowledge of how the law works than we do.”
“Of course,” Andee said, “I’ll do my best, but remember, I’m not a lawyer.”
Helen was already preparing to leave. “I’ll call as soon as I’ve spoken to Gordon,” she promised, and after a quick apology for not being able to stay, she went off.
By the time she rang in the early afternoon, Marcy, after a long discussion with Andee, had come to a decision. There was absolutely no way of knowing if it was the right one, but unless the barrister strongly advised against it, the only chance Archie stood of avoiding a truly punishing sentence was to plead not guilty on the second count—the one that included a reckless disregard for life. It would then be his defense counsel’s job to persuade the jury that he had in fact made certain that the house was empty before he’d set it alight.
“Gordon thinks it could be worth the risk,” Helen told her, and as Marcy heaved a sigh of relief she gave a thumbs-up to Claudia and Andee.
“Of course, the ultimate decision has to be Archie’s,” Marcy said to Helen, “but when you speak to him please tell him that I think we should continue along the same path, in spite of the change. He should still plead not guilty.”
FOUR DAYS LATER Marcy opened the front door of the coach house for Dan to come in, and as she removed his coat Claudia appeared from her craft room. “Hi, am I too early?” he asked as she came to greet him.
“It doesn’t matter,” she replied. “Have you heard anything from Archie since the change of indictment?”
He shook his head. “Have you asked his mother about his decision?”
Wryly, Marcy said, “She’s too busy with her trial cleaning for chitchat, but she says that she’ll be in court cheering her boy on, not literally I hope, but you never know.”
Taking the gin and tonic Claudia had made for him, Dan said, “I got your email earlier. Still no plans to question Huxley-Browne about the arson?”
Claudia shook her head dejectedly. “Carl Phillips says he’s doing all he can,” she replied, “but there’s still only Archie’s word to go on and it’s just not enough.”
“So the uncle—BJ—isn’t proving useful?”
“Not yet,” Marcy interjected, “but there’s still time. Marcus isn’t due for release for another three weeks. Anything can happen in that time.”
Dan slipped an arm around Claudia and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Marcy’s right about that,” he told her. “You’ve only got to look at this new indictment for Archie. We didn’t see that coming—although maybe not a good example when it’s not exactly going our way.”
Putting on a smile, Claudia decided to change the subject. It was the only way to sideline the feeling of Marcus coming closer as each day passed. “We’re going to Henry’s for dinner,” she said. “His son and daughter-in-law have turned up unexpectedly and he wants us to come and meet them.” She turned to her mother with teasing eyes. “And I’m reliably informed by the Fitbit fanatic here that it’s no more than seventeen hundred steps to his place, so we can walk.”
Marcy’s eyes rounded in protest. “In the dark? I don’t think so.”
Amused, Dan said, “Don’t worry, I’ll drive,” and after taking a sip of his drink he read Archie’s letter again. “There’s no time to get a visit in before next Monday,” he said, “so unless he calls me, or another letter turns up, this could be all we’re going to get from him until we see him in court.”
Marcy regarded the letter with a heavy sense of foreboding. “Something’s not right about this,” she murmured. “I just wish I knew what it was.”
Chapter Forty-Eight
The following Monday Marcy, Claudia, and Jasmine arrived at the court in good time, leaving Henry to park the car while they cleared security and found Andee in the main lobby with Dan and Helen.
“Is Archie here yet?” Marcy asked as they greeted one another.
“He’s just arrived,” Helen replied. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m fine,” Marcy lied, as Claudia said, “She’s worried,” and Jasmine said, “This is a big deal for her, coming out in public like this.”
Marcy regarded them helplessly. “Anything else of mine you’d like to share?” she asked snippily. Without waiting for an answer she said to Helen, “When you see him please tell him we’re here and that nothing’s changed, I’m still going to speak up for him.”
“Of course.” Helen squeezed her arm to show that she understood what this was costing Marcy.
“Can you also ask him,” Claudia said, slipping a hand into Dan’s as he came to greet her, “why he hasn’t been in touch since the indictment changed?”
“Don’t pressure him,” Marcy scolded. “He’s got enough to think about.” Addressing Helen again, “Of course, if it all goes wrong it’ll be my fault . . .”
“Nana, for heaven’s sake,” Jasmine protested. “He made the decision himself to plead not guilty . . .”
“But I encouraged him . . .”
“He also has a legal team,” Helen came in gently. “Now, I ought to go down there, so if you’ll excuse me I’ll see you in court.”
As she walked away Andee said, “Has anyone seen Archie’s barrister?”
“He’s in the robing room,” Dan told her.
“What about Maria?” Marcy asked, searching the busy lobby and the queue coming through security.
“No sign of her yet,” Andee replied, as Henry joined them, “but I’m sure she’ll be here. Now you understand it’s possible you won’t be called today?” she said to Marcy.
“Yes, Helen explained that, but I can sit in court?”
“Provided the judge doesn’t ask witnesses to wait outside.”
Although it was starting to feel too much already, Marcy kept it to herself, certain the rising panic would dissipate before it reached a peak.
Dan said, “Here’s Maria,” and going over to security he waited for her to come through before bringing her to join their group.
“Are you OK?” Marcy asked, her nerves clenching again at the sight of Maria’s pale face and red-raw eyes.
“Yes, din sleep so well. Is he ’ere?”
“Apparently, yes,” Claudia told her. “Helen’s gone down to see him.”
Maria’s eyes filled with tears as she turned to Dan. “They gon’ lock ’im up for good?” she asked brokenly.
“I’m sure that won’t happen,” he soothed, sounding more confident than any of them felt. “Come on, there’s time to get us all a coffee before we go upstairs.”
Twenty minutes later they were taking their seats at the front of the public gallery, and as Marcy looked down into the well of the court she felt another surge of anxiety at the prospect of standing there in front of everyone with her terrible face on full dis
play.
She took a breath and made herself think of Archie, and how awful it was going to be for him when he was brought up from the cells and seated behind the bulletproof screen. And how hard it was going to be for his mother seeing him there. Hopefully Maria wouldn’t cry out, or make any sort of fuss that would end in her being ejected from proceedings.
As though sensing her mother’s turmoil, Claudia reached for her hand and gave it a comforting squeeze. A smile of gratitude flitted across Marcy’s face, making her aware of the tightness of the warped, silvery-red skin that was so unlike anyone else’s.
Claudia watched Dan entering the court below with Helen Hall. Gordon Lock the barrister was with them, a tall, imposing figure with hawkish features and thick gray hair just visible beneath his horsehair wig. He was not someone it was easy to imagine summoning forth sympathy and understanding from a jury. However, looks could be deceiving, and Helen Hall had told them that Archie was extremely fortunate to have this man on his side.
Why, she asked herself for the thousandth time, were they rooting for someone who’d caused such terrible damage to her mother? It felt wrong in so many ways—but she tried to remind herself that Archie, in his way, was as much a victim of Marcus’s as they were.
As Dan glanced up, she gave him a smile and thought of how lucky she was to have him in her life. Just please, when this was all over, don’t let Marcus do something to ruin things. He’s not going to be released, she told herself firmly. The uncle, BJ, will tie him to the arson and he’ll be remanded back into custody before he even makes it onto the street.
The jury was brought in and as Marcy watched them, seven women and five men of varying ages and ethnicity, she was trying to imagine how they were going to react when they saw her face for the first time. It would be perhaps the most damning evidence of all against Archie, probably enough to make up their minds there and then for a conviction. After all, what more would they need to see to feel certain that he’d behaved recklessly enough to endanger life? However, once they’d heard the testimony she, Claudia, and Helen had prepared, it might persuade them to look at things in a different way.
