Judge Savage

by Tim Parks

  Professor Mukerjee I am now going to ask some general questions about Sikh culture. Stacey paused, appeared to steel himself to say something unpleasant. Is it true, Professor, that there have quite recently been cases where female foetuses have been aborted because only a male child is desired? Around the court there were sharp intakes of breath. The Indian, sitting with fists tightly clasped under his chin, nodded vigorously, as if to answer the question himself. This is true, Mukerjee said, of many oriental cultures. He paused. And indeed many traditional and hierarchical cultures the world over. There is nothing specifically Sikh about it.

  Can you explain to the jury why that is so?

  Well, in such cultures, the family is very often also a business enterprise and the boundaries between the two are not clearly defined. The business is the family and the family the business. But this is true of older cultures in the west of course. Anyway, a male child may well be seen as more valuable to the business.

  Given this context, Professor Mukerjee, I mean the family and its business, its livelihood, how would a male member of the family unable to take his place in the business, due to illness or handicap, be considered?

  I’m sorry.

  Would a handicapped male child be considered a liability, an intolerable economic burden? Much as the unborn female foetus.

  Packed with relatives of the defendants, the public gallery had begun to complain. A man raised his voice. Judge Savage interrupted: Members of the public must be silent or leave the court. But now counsel for the defence had risen.

  Your honour, I object. When the admissibility of this, er, expert evidence was discussed, we did lay down precise boundaries of relevance. May I submit that my learned friend has now overstepped these boundaries.

  Mr Stacey – Daniel was determined not to be seduced by the man – could you perhaps reassure us very briefly as to the relevance of these questions.

  Stacey seemed pleased to have been interrupted. Perhaps in the end Mukerjee would have given a negative answer to what was the most insidious question of them all. Perhaps he would have said that a handicapped son would not be seen as an intolerable economic burden at all. Now the insinuation lingered in the air.

  Your honour, so much has been said and as this case proceeds no doubt will be said about the positive values of traditional family solidarity as opposed to the bureaucratic procedures of our state hospital system. I am just trying to establish the nature of that, er, traditional solidarity.

  Savage accepted defence counsel’s objection. Mr Stacey, you must keep your questions to the point.

  Of course, your honour. Prosecution counsel turned again to the witness. When the Mishras travelled to the Punjab, they took their elder son with them. When they returned two months later, he was accompanied by a young bride he had not met before that trip. In your expert opinion, is that normal procedure in this culture?

  It is not unusual.

  Would the son have met and fallen in love with his bride to be by chance.

  Mukerjee explained that families tended to be in touch with each other for some time before such marriages.

  Very astutely, Stacey hesitated. For a long silent moment the court waited for some awful question that would seek to suggest that the real motive for the Mishras trip to India was not Lackbir and his alternative treatment at all, but the marriage of the elder son now solely responsible for the future of the family dynasty. Swaying slightly back and forward, rubbing the tips of his fingers up and down his chin, Stacey appeared to reflect. That will be enough, thank you very much, Professor Mukerjee, he eventually said and sat down.

  In the dock, turbaned and full-bearded, sitting closely beside his wife, Mr Mishra remained impassive. The decision of both defendants not to give evidence would keep proceedings disturbingly brief.

  Yep, the Crown’s really going for the whole hog, Daniel remarked one evening later that week. Fashions in Fire had now finished the stone surround. Abduction and manslaughter. No doubt hoping for an exemplary sentence. Having picked up Sarah from her last exam, Daniel, Hilary and Tom drove to the industrial estate to view the artefact and pay before installation. Then there would be a celebratory dinner in the centre of town. It was the end of Sarah’s school career, the beginning of another summer holiday. They always dined out at the end of the school year, a tradition carried over from Colonel Savage’s family. What traditions could I keep but the traditions of the Savage family, Daniel thought? Having adjourned the Mishra trial before the next day’s summing up, he noticed at a scheduling meeting that the case against Rigby had been dropped. The police had chosen to protect their informer. On various occasions during the afternoon he had found Mrs Connolly looking at him most intently.

  But do they honestly want the poor people sent to prison, Hilary asked? Everybody was relieved that Sarah had gone to her exam and hadn’t objected to an outing related to the new house. It seemed important not to draw attention to the fact. There’ve been four or five cases recently, Daniel remarked, tabled against parents for cruelty to children, ‘excessive correction’ usually. In the back of the car his own children were listening hard. And funnily enough the accused are almost all from immigrant communities. If you can make ’em judges, Hilary laughed, you can send ’em to gaol. Daniel mentioned a Japanese man arrested for having locked his son in his room for the weekend. On the Monday morning the boy had skipped school and gone straight to the police. Young Tom was scathing: What’d be the point of sticking these Mishra people in gaol, Dad? Then we have to pay to bring up their kids with our taxes. Tom liked to join in adult conversation, endearingly taking, Daniel knew, in his craving for approval, an extreme form of what he perceived to be his parents’ position. It’s not that simple, love, Hilary remarked. Sarah wouldn’t be drawn. Oh fine, she muttered when Daniel again asked how the exam had gone. So, tell us what you wrote about! Marriage in the early church, she said. She was looking out of the window. Apostolic succession. Zoroastrianism for the Comparative. Zorro-what? Tom demanded. Do people worship Zorro? Nodding to his left, as if seeing it for the first time, Daniel exclaimed, Oh talking of comparative this and that, perhaps we should pop in there afterwards. There might be something special for curtains or carpets. Hai ching, mi phong, Tom giggled. Foi shi bo yung! Oh shut up, idiot! Sarah elbowed him. Daniel had contrived to park outside Kwan’s Asian Fabrics.

  The Savages were now in considerable debt. A schedule of payments had been agreed with the builder in order to guarantee a fixed total price on completion late July. A small concession had then been made to the Shields in return for two lump sum advance payments on their purchase of the Carlton Street flat. This money would allow the Savages to meet the builder’s requests. Everybody trusted each other. But when the Shields didn’t pay on time, Daniel and Hilary had taken out a bridging loan which, combined with their old mortgage, sent them six figures into the red. The plus side had been the banker’s confidence in Daniel’s ability to meet almost any commitment. Least sacked category in the land, he laughed, judges. So now, writing out the cheque for Fashions in Fire, Daniel felt quite confident. Stupid red tape, Christine had said. Question of days. Martin had now apologised about their evening at the pub. When I get depressed, he explained, there are these moments when I’ll say anything. He was suffering from a constant low level fever, it seemed, but refused to leave the house to see a doctor.

  Although it may appear delicate, an assistant reassured them as he pulled a cloth from the dove grey stone, it can actually take more or less any heat or bashing. The fireplace was laid on its back on a pallet, the fine fluting across the top lacquered to a glassy finish. State of the art resins, he explained. Traditional design, modern toughness. Looks straight out of Jane Austen to me, Sarah complained. Tom asked if he could see the machines that cut the stone. I can’t remember – Hilary stood on tiptoe to whisper in her husband’s ear – anybody having sex on the hearthrug in Pride and Prejudice. Daniel smiled and took his daughter by the arm. We can sit and play card
s by the fire, he told her, while the flames toast our toes. Happy Families? the girl asked caustically. Strip poker? Tom giggled. Then Sarah giggled too. Their silly laughter echoed in the cavernous prefab. Daniel was encouraged. I can already see my whisky on the mantelpiece, he announced with a loud chuckle. Dad, please! The girl was embarrassed now. He sniffed clownishly. Double malt, smells like. He’s terrible, Tom informed the assistant. A fish! The stone surround alone had cost two grand. The Steinway grand was now under wraps, waiting to be delivered. They were all set.

  But I’ve always hated oriental designs! Hilary didn’t want to visit Kwan’s. They were late. They’re hardly likely to have anything that’ll go with our fireplace, are they? Max had been told seven at The Duck. And they still had to pick up Crosby, a friend of Tom’s, the organist’s son. The traffic would be hell. Hilary was already climbing into the car when Sarah said: Well, I’d really like to see what they’ve got. I’m interested in oriental stuff. Oh, Sarah! Come on! The fireplace isn’t going to be in my room, the girl was saying, is it? We don’t all have to have the same look, do we, like some crusty old English manor? We can have one room Regency and one Ming Dynasty.

  Daniel pulled faces at his wife. Let’s just take a peek, he said. Couple of minutes. But listen, Hilary began, if we wanted . . . Who’s always telling people not to be boring, Sarah demanded? Her mother hesitated a moment. Father and daughter were arm in arm. Again Daniel winked. Perhaps with exam pressure off, the girl would get over whatever it was that had been making her so impossible. She would take an interest in the house. They might be happy. His wife gave way and apparently in good spirits took Tom by the elbow, so that they crossed the road together, laughing.

  Inside, the smell was immediately familiar, as Minnie’s voice had immediately been familiar on the phone that evening. I should have reacted at once, Daniel thought. They waited, chatter muted in a gloomy space, half-showroom, half-warehouse. The young Asian man now appearing in attendance seemed taken aback and addressed himself exclusively to the white woman in the group. Daniel had seen this behaviour so many times he wasn’t even offended.

  We’re wholesaler, the Korean said. We don’t sell to public. Just a peek at some of your designs, Hilary asked. Typically, having got into the place, she wasn’t to be put off. She walked directly to the great heaps of fabrics under neon by the far wall. This was where her husband had first undressed Minnie. If you think the English are racist, the girl had laughed, you should hear the Koreans! Her skin smelt faintly different. The young man was well dressed in grey suit and bright red tie. For wholesale only, he repeated.

  They stood over a garish play of gold and blue, the Korean peeling off layer after layer, looking only at Hilary, though it was the dark and suddenly beautiful Sarah who was fingering each material and murmuring oohs and ahs. Do the characters mean something, the girl asked? The acnied young man appeared not to have heard. Ninety-five percent, he was telling Hilary. Daniel was suddenly irritated. My daughter asked whether the characters meant something, he said. But the design had been covered by another. The Korean stared blankly. Oh, it doesn’t matter, Sarah smiled. This is wholesale store, the salesman repeated. Then Daniel asked: And are you Mr Kwan? Immediately, he sensed his voice had taken on a false ring. But if he didn’t pursue the matter there would have been no point in coming in here. Mr Kwan’s son, the Korean answered. And is it a big family, are you all involved? Hilary raised her eyes in surprise. We are two brothers, the young man said, walking them through the gloomy warehouse. We are not a big family. Only wholesale.

  In the dining room behind The Duck, Sarah became extremely voluble. She needled Max mercilessly, but seemed in good spirits. Doesn’t it drive you crazy when Mum keeps telling you you’re too sentimental. Doesn’t it make you mad when she says, Oh, but that’s such a boring way to play. Don’t be boring, Max! You’ve had too much to drink, Hilary laughed. Having finished her exams, the girl had been allowed a full glass of wine. She had taken two, but refused to eat anything more than a salad. Usually heart and soul of any party, Daniel explained his quietness by remarking that he would be summing up tomorrow in the Mishra case. My first time in front of the national papers, he said. Interrupting, Tom asked Max if he did any sport. They were both eating steak. The piano was enough, Max said. The piano is all the voices all on its own, you see, so you don’t need any accompaniment. He was clearly a delightful young man. Whereas when I’m in company, you know, I almost always feel awkward. He blushed. And no of course I don’t mind, he told Sarah, when I’m told I’m doing something badly. Hilary had made sure the young people were sitting side by side. That’s why one has a teacher, isn’t it? But what is badly, Sarah demanded? Who’s Mum to decide what’s badly? When did she ever tell anyone they were playing well?

  Max had put his fork in his mouth. Tom and Crosby were shovelling chips. I must stop thinking about Minnie, Daniel ordered himself. Hilary was smiling over her fish and across at Max with a look of general complacency. Judge Savage suddenly said to his daughter, Why don’t you start playing the piano again, Sarah love? Now the exams are over. He spoke sincerely. The girl was sitting opposite. That would be such a treat. Oh no! Tom cried with his mouth full. Spare us that! He put his hands over his ears. Not the piano! Shut-up, Tom! Daniel told him. Oh you should worry, Crosby grimaced, my sister plays the violin! Both boys burst out laughing. Then beneath the table Daniel felt his daughter’s leg brush against his own. I’ll start playing again when you do, Dad, she said. There was an odd mix of challenge and composure in her voice. Oh, did you used to play too, Mr Savage, Max asked? Sometimes the young man’s politeness seemed to verge on mockery. For God’s sake, call me Daniel! the judge responded. It’s bad enough being called Your honour all day. I’d love it if you did start again, Dan, Hilary told him in her softest voice. She had her velvety black concert dress pulled tight at the waist underneath a pale green cardigan. You mean so you can tell him how badly he plays, Sarah announced. Too much pedal! she mimicked. Make it sing!

  Oh for heaven’s sake! Hilary turned to Tom on her left. Tell me, Tommy, am I really such a bully? The boy’s lips were smeared with ketchup. Asked the question in the presence of Crosby, he hesitated. The youngsters exchanged glances. Well, a little bit, the boy hazarded. Everybody burst out laughing. Tom! You traitor! Hilary shook her head but managed to smile. Oh poor Riliree! Daniel laughed. At last forgetting his other worries – he owed the girl nothing, he thought, and anyway she had no intention of destroying his life – the judge turned to his left and embraced his wife. Unexpectedly, she raised her lips to kiss him more fervently than she ever would in public. She too had been drinking. They were both so relieved Sarah had done her exams! School was over. The girl sat opposite watching. Max clapped heartily. So when’s the twentieth anniversary, he asked? When’s the great day? October! Tom shouted. With any luck they’ll go away for a second honeymoon and we’ll have the whole new house all to ourselves. Cool! shouted Crosby. Hilary detached herself. She appeared to be laughing and crying together. Sarah said sharply: And to think, this time last year Dad was living in a hotel and everybody thought they’d broken up.

  The dining room at The Duck was a favourite with families. No sooner had Sarah spoken than the noise from the other tables seemed to invade their own, in particular a fat man laughing raucously. No that’s too funny, he was shouting. That’s too funny, the fat man roared. Hilary had closed her eyes. She put her forehead on her fingertips. Max seemed tremendously embarrassed. Tom glanced furtively from mother to father, head down by the tablecloth. Only Crosby was cheerfully unaware of any unease: My folks say they’re going to break up every day, he grumbled, but in the end they never do. Do I call the girl to order in front of Max, Daniel was asking himself? The last thing they needed was for the child to walk out. She had put her fork down. Her palms were pressed down on the table as though about to rise. Dad’s always moaning, Crosby went on, that he’d rather live on his own in the garden shed with Camomile, that’s our
cat. He says . . .

  Recovering abruptly, Hilary patted the organist’s boy on the head. Would anyone like some dessert? She beckoned to the waitress. By the way, she addressed herself to Max, Sarah’s off to Italy tomorrow. Aren’t you, love? Having filled his mouth to cover his embarrassment, the handsome young man took a moment to reply. How wonderful! He turned to face the girl beside him. Sarah seemed locked into an unapproachable resentment. The dark skin thrilled with angry tension. Where exactly? Max asked. We should have said something, Daniel told himself. We can’t let her get away with this. Perugia, Hilary was explaining. There’s a sort of all round course on Italian culture and language. Or was it wisest just to wait for the girl to leave home? Minnie, perhaps, had finally been allowed to leave home. Could it be that Koreans only mentioned the male members of the family? They were as chauvinist as Sikhs perhaps.

  Do you have a lift to the airport? Max unexpectedly enquired. Having decided to stay in her seat, Sarah reached across and drank off the wine in her father’s glass. The flight’s in the afternoon, she said. I’m going to go and hear Dad’s summing up in the morning, then I’ll take the bus from the station. Again her parents were caught by surprise. You’ve never been interested in court before, Hilary objected. Since it’s Dad’s big moment, Sarah explained, and I’ve finally finished school, why shouldn’t I go? She half giggled and tossed out: If I get good results, I might even study law. For Daniel this was such excellent news that he at once forgave his daughter everything. She would come right. She would leave home for university at the end of summer. A completely normal kid. Perhaps I could come along too, Max suggested, I’d love to see how a trial works. Then I could drive you on to the airport. Daniel picked up Tom’s pantomime wink at Crosby. The boys had started to giggle. Well, I can’t stop you, Sarah told him. Sarah, her mother demanded, what kind of reaction is that! When somebody makes such a generous offer! She finally seemed to have found something she wanted to be openly sharp about. But won’t it be difficult for you to get off work, she turned to Max? He was on flexitime. The young man shook his head. And of course I’d be delighted to be of help. Daniel watched, trying to understand. How long will you be away? Max enquired. Only a couple of weeks, Sarah said. Wasn’t it a month? Daniel asked quickly. Again his daughter’s knee nudged against his own. Oh yes, a month, she said. Lucky bastard, Tom announced. Please! Tom, dear! his mother said. Just because you’ve a friend here, doesn’t mean you can start speaking as if you were in the playground. You’ll miss my concert then, Max told her. At the church. Before the summer holidays Hilary encouraged all her students to give a concert. Smiling shyly, he added, Perhaps it’s just as well, with all the mistakes I make. Sarah hesitated, half smiled, Ask for extra lessons, she said. I’m sure Mum will oblige.