by Tim Parks
Sedley has lost it, Daniel thought. All this aggressive colouring and irony was getting him nowhere. The defence counsels were wise not to object, however objectionable it was.
I wasn’t trying to convert nobody, Sayle said.
Ah. You were not trying to convert them. We will not then be able to hear testimony from some charming young lady as to how you snatched her from the jaws of hell.
Sayle said: I don’t know why we went to talk to them really. We had some laughs. It was our way of chilling out.
Mr Sayle, let’s leave aside the pleasures you may or may not have had in talking to women of easy virtue, and let me insist on my previous question: why did you not mention to the police this motive for going to the bridge? Or indeed to your solicitor, since this fact did not emerge from the evidence we have just heard?
After another long silence, David Sayle said glumly: To tell the truth, I didn’t want my mum to know.
Not only did the remark provoke titters all round the court, but it was delivered in such a way as to seem entirely authentic. An unhappily fat woman in the front row of the public gallery had covered her face with her hands. The whole story has suddenly shifted, Judge Savage sensed. Admit to something embarrassing and people believe you, even if perhaps it’s not true. Ten minutes later, as he was closing the door of his room in chambers he found himself face to face with the young clerk Laura. In her hands she held a copy of the evening paper. Mystery, ran the headline, over Savage Attack.
TWENTY-THREE
DAN, HELLO THERE. A disturbing and improbable intimacy was creeping into the policeman’s voice. You got my message then? He should not speak to a judge like this. Yes. Daniel was breathless. Good man. And you’ve seen the evening paper, I presume? Yes. You don’t know how they came to have this story? No. Who do you think could have told them this? I’m shaking, Daniel noticed. I’m not ready for a scandal at all. He said: My wife. I think not, Mattheson said at once. In fact, I was just on the phone to her. I’m sure it was not your wife. Oh. Mattheson had Hilary’s number. My daughter perhaps. Mattheson said nothing. Judge Savage could hear a sound of voices. The policeman was on his mobile. My brother Frank knew something, he said. For some reason, he couldn’t bring himself to speak of Christine. He had told Martin the whole thing. Would Martin have had time or energy on his deathbed to have told his wife? Miss Kwan herself wouldn’t have done it, he suggested. Would she? Dan, the policeman’s voice was condescending, I believe Miss Kwan has gone back to her family. I doubt if she would have any interest in shooting her mouth off to the press now she’s living with her family again. I beg your pardon? The girl’s gone back to her family, Dan. As of three days ago, I believe.
Daniel felt lost. His life had foundered on a young girl’s ambivalence toward her origins. She had cut herself free. Now she had gone back. It had been for nothing. Trembling, he said: But the story is quite accurate. I mean, they didn’t pluck it out of the air, did they? It must be someone who knows something. It doesn’t mention the jury business, Mattheson remarked. Which would have been the most damning thing of all, the thing that would sink you. No, no it doesn’t. Judge Savage had hardly had time to think of this. Was there a warning note in the man’s voice? Who would blow the case to the papers, the policeman asked, without mentioning that, assuming they knew it?
Daniel found he was looking up from the phone to see if anyone could be listening, a ridiculous gesture when he was in his own room with the door closed. It does say she was Korean though, he pointed out. Actually, Asian, Dan. Asian. Sorry, I’m not concentrating. It’s natural, the policeman said. Then after a pause and with a mighty sigh he went on, Okay, okay, so somehow someone’s picked up this story, probably in rumour form, and fed it to the evening paper and for all sorts of reasons the editor felt confident enough to risk running it. They know that even if it’s not true the last thing a judge wants is to launch a highly publicised libel case. Right? Look at it this way: you’ve been set up as a hero, now you’re ripe for a scandal. That’s life. MBE for extramarital sex, etc. On the other hand, he paused, on the other hand, Dan, there’s nothing in this but hearsay, is there, nor any suggestion that you yourself did anything illegal. Right? There’s no allegation that could lead to charges being made. It’s an entirely personal attack and I think we should bear that in mind. Then we should also bear in mind, with regard to the assault, that you yourself never saw your assailants. You may be quite wrong in supposing that these people attacked you. Actually, and with respect, though I appreciate your motives for telling us what you did, I’ve never been entirely convinced by this version of events. There was a brief silence on the line. Why not, Judge Savage wondered? Why wasn’t he convinced? It seemed clear as daylight. In fact, Dan, I was initially trying to get in touch with you to say that we’ve now pulled in Craig Michaels for questioning. We’ll be talking to him over the next forty-eight hours and he has previous convictions for assault and for stirring up racial hatred. So that should reinforce the official position.
Judge Savage didn’t know how to react. Good, Mattheson concluded. Now Dan, you’re no doubt going to find a lot of journalists on your back over the next day or two asking all sorts of questions. Presumably you’ll be in court tomorrow morning? Daniel explained that all the courts had been adjourned for two hours tomorrow morning to allow lawyers and staff to attend Martin Shields’ funeral. I’ll be speaking, he said. Will you? Poor Mr Shields. There was a pause while Mattheson took this in. Yes, come to think of it, I see I’m supposed to be going myself. Yes, anyway Dan, I can’t imagine a man of your experience will have any trouble with a few questions from pesky reporters. All the same, it might be wise to sit down a minute or two and think over what you’re going to say. Just to make sure you give them no corroboration at all. Meantime, we’ll have a car sent up to your house so they don’t keep leaning on the bell. Yes, Daniel agreed. On the desk, beneath a large photo of himself with prominently patched eye, a sub-heading asked: Was Black Romeo Bashed by Ex’s Boyfriend? Scores of Affairs? ran another title. In one corner a vignette of a head in judge’s wig reclining between open thighs. Daniel asked: And the Kwans? Inspector Mattheson snorted. He seemed entirely relaxed: When the powers that be are onto something, they don’t give us mere mortals progress reports. It’s drugs, I suppose. Could be, the policeman said. And Dan? Yes. One other thing. Yes? Mattheson seemed amused. Every cloud has a silver lining, he chuckled, you know? So they say, Daniel said. He felt guarded. A situation has developed, he was suddenly aware, where a crown court judge is deeply indebted to a man at least nominally responsible for many of the cases brought to his court. Expect a pleasant surprise when you get home, mate, Mattheson said. I won’t say any more.
Having put the phone down, Daniel stared at the article on his desk. Informed sources. He found it difficult to read the words that described himself. Repeated allegations. He felt physically sick. Though it was all accurate. Now the phone was ringing again. Judge? Judge, it’s Kathleen, Kathleen Connolly. He didn’t know what to say. Your honour, I know it’s perhaps improper for me to phone you like this but I just wanted to tell you how ridiculous we all think it is. Thanks, Judge Savage said. She liaises with Mattheson every day, he thought. Thank you. At least she wasn’t calling him Dan.
A policeman was standing beside the gate at the bottom of the garden. Cars were parked all along the usually empty road. A knot of men and women were chatting together. As he arrived other car doors opened. The policeman made a clearing-the-way gesture. He stretched out his arms. Cameras flashed. I am in this now, Judge Savage knew. The story had changed again. It is beyond my control. But he was good at talking to people. Talk to them, his instinct told him. He could have driven straight into the garage, but instead he stopped the car, waved the policeman away. At the same moment Hilary’s face appeared at the front door. He had guessed as much. I believe, he told a reporter, that the police are questioning a man in connection with the attack on myself. That is all I know. I didn’t actua
lly see my attackers, and so cannot identify the man and cannot comment on rumours as to who these people might have been.
A dozen reporters were now crowded round him. There were two or three TV cameras. Is it true that you were having an affair with a twenty-two-year-old Asian girl? The shout appeared to come from behind him. Judge Savage was struck by the bad taste of it. Sounds like an exciting story, he grinned. Raising his voice, he said: If the gentleman who asked that question is eager to discuss his own private life, I’d be more than happy to listen and advise. A woman shrilled: Don’t you have anything to say on the matter? He stood still and appeared to think. One of the things that really surprised me, he said, when I was a child reading the Bible, was that when Jesus said: he that is without sin among you, let him cast the first stone, everybody went away. In today’s more upright society, he smiled, I’m sure there would be a hail of stones.
Judge Savage was surprised that he had said this. And frightened too. He hadn’t thought about Biblical parallels for years. It must have been the stone-throwing case brought it to mind. Does that amount to my admitting it all, he wondered? He said, Now if you could, please, let me go home, I suspect my dinner is waiting.
As he spoke, the dog appeared, barking at his feet. Woolfie! Hilary was walking down the path to embrace him. Sarah appeared behind her mother, a faint smile on her lips. She wore a short top that showed her belly. There was a tattoo. Her hair was growing. Tom was pulling off his headset. Daniel felt completely false. It was not unlike the moment when he had crossed the floor of the Capricorn to meet the Koreans, or when he had walked along the balcony to the flat on Sperringway. Everything was at a remove. He had often sensed how witnesses and defendants became exhilarated by the public role they were playing in court. Their mannerisms became exaggerated, their language more pompous. These events turn us into marionettes. My life is a subject for cameras, he thought. He felt strangely exhilarated. One of them flashed to capture a scene of perfect solidarity as Daniel met his wife’s warm embrace. She was pretty and petite in jacket and skirt. He pressed her to him and her body was hard. Inside, the moment the door closed, she told him: This is just for the duration, Dan. They stood facing each other. Don’t nurse any illusions. Sarah was watching them. To stop you going under, she said. She turned away. Tom hurried to the drinks cabinet and poured his father a whisky. His young eyes were full of consternation. Meantime, I’ll be sleeping on the couch, Hilary said.
It was eight-thirty when finally he announced: So here we all are together at last, in our new house round our marble fireplace with our grand piano. First time. For more than an hour he had sat quite silently while the others moved about him. Hold your breath, he told himself. For some time he had closed his eyes. The curtains were drawn. The phone was turned off. He had heard Hilary speaking low on her mobile on the landing. Tom was at his computer games. It would be nice to join him. In the end, Judge Savage enjoyed computer games. But he couldn’t move from the place he had taken by the empty fireplace. His wife busied herself with the Hoover. She insisted on hoovering. She didn’t sit down and talk the matter over with him. She was making the house hers again, he thought. Hoovering. Avoiding conversation. Can I talk to you alone, he asked. What about? she said. Let me clean this mess up. There’s nothing to talk about, Dan. We just have to lie for a few weeks. We just say it’s rubbish. I talked to the inspector about it. He’s sure it will work out.
Sarah seemed eager to help her mother. Truth to tell, the house was a mess. She has put on weight, Daniel noticed from his place on the sofa. Once again his daughter had changed. She was cleaning the bathroom. Nobody came to talk to him. Tom scuttled upstairs to his room. His face had been red. He loved his father. He’s ashamed of me, Daniel thought. He could hear the computer beeping. Grimly Hilary hoovered. She hurried back at once, Daniel thought. She didn’t wait and think it over. She came rushing back the moment the story broke. The story was an excuse, he thought, to hurry back without losing face, to have her house again, and now she is making it hers. Fair enough, he decided. Is there any point in my trying to think clearly, he wondered? He waited an hour at least, sitting quietly on the sofa. He realised he wasn’t suffering in any simple way. He felt angry. At last he announced: So here we are everybody, together at last in our new home.
It was eight-thirty. Hilary had switched off the Hoover. Daniel’s voice was loud. His wife didn’t interpret it as a cry for help. Sarah was sorting out clothes to be washed. There were suitcases on the floor. We could have a concert, light a fire, Daniel said. Come on. Tom, he called. To-om, do you want to come downstairs and play Get Back for us. The boy appeared on the stairs. The open plan room with the stairs coming down between fireplace and front door was attractive. You were right to want a fireplace, the judge told his wife. Let’s light it. Let’s sit round it. Without looking at him, Sarah said: Leave off Dad. Hilary stopped at the door to the kitchen. She shook her head. Are we a family or aren’t we, he demanded. Sarah, he turned to the girl, this is your first time here really, isn’t it. Your first night in the place. He wasn’t sure himself whether he was sarcastic or pleading. Play something Tom, he encouraged. Come on, if we’re going to be together, let’s be together. Let’s light the fire.
Hilary put a hand on the boy’s shoulder. Dan, she said. She gave a small false smile. Dan, leave off. If you want, we can discuss what exactly we’re all going to say to people over the next week or two. She paused, took a breath: That I’ve been on holiday for a couple of weeks with the kids and came back because of this ridiculous story, which is rubbish. That’s it. Nothing more to say.
Fiercely, Tom shook off his mother’s hand, went to the piano and banged out a couple of chords. He stopped, looked up at them. His boyish face was disheartened. He was unable to settle. He looked up at them, down at the keys. Come on Tom, kid, Daniel coaxed. You’re just a bit rusty. Or shall we light the fire. Dan, you’re sick! Hilary told him sharply. She was shaking her head. Stop it! Am I? he demanded. It upset him to see the boy like that. Why? Why am I sick? His wife didn’t reply. Okay, he said, let’s be sick to the end. Let’s discuss everything at once with everyone here, let’s have it all out, everything, so that everyone knows everything absolutely and completely once and for all and then we can have done. Dad! Sarah said. Yes? Her eyes were raised in silent pleading, like any adolescent signalling that a parent is beyond the pale. Please, Dad. She shot a glance at her mother.
Listen, your father is in disgrace, Judge Savage began. Since a judge’s position depends on his being seen as a figure of absolute integrity, I could well be invited to resign. You understand that? Tom nodded solemnly. This is all wrong, Daniel thought. Not to worry, he said quickly. Or not about the financial side: if necessary, the house can easily be sold and exchanged for something less expensive. I can easily find other work. I haven’t, after all, done anything illegal. No shut up, Tom, wait a moment. I’m not going to be put in gaol. Now, your mother has returned after two weeks away and tells me she will support me officially in this crisis, but she doesn’t want to live with me as a wife. We all know why and I’m not going to argue with that. She wants to live in the same house, but separately. Now let’s find out what everyone else wants.
Dan, Hilary said. She was staring at him. Dan you can’t do things like this. Why not? You’re just trying to railroad everyone. No I’m not. How am I railroading everyone by asking them what they want? I get letters from my daughter accusing me of hypocrisy, so I’ll be open. I spend all day listening to people lying under oath, so let’s hear the truth. I’m fed up with it. What do you want Tom? He turned to his son with grim cheerfulness. What would you like to see happen?
The boy sat on his hands at the piano stool, rocking back and forth. I want it to be like it was before, he said. He spoke straightforwardly with no catch in his voice. Why can’t we do that? Good, that’s one position, Daniel said. I second it. Sarah? he asked. Hilary was shaking her head as if the whole scene were something that would be regretted
for ages to come. You’re impossible, she muttered. Sarah seemed perversely at ease. She smiled at her mother: I only agreed, to come to this dream castle of yours on the basis that you two would never get back together. That it was just to help you because of this scandal thing. That’s my position. It’s right to help you, because it would be silly if you lost your job and nobody had any money. But something’s got to change. Daniel looked at Hilary. She met his gaze. It had been weeks since they looked in each others’ eyes. You’ve agreed this between you, then? She said nothing. Answer yes or no, he demanded, have you two agreed that we two are finished. Dan, Hilary protested, you’re not in court for Christ’s sake!
Daniel Savage stood up and shouted, Yes I am! I’m always in court. I’m always on trial! Dad! Tom pleaded. Have you agreed this between you or haven’t you? I think we should call a doctor, Hilary said. Ostentatiously, Sarah had lowered her head and started to iron. Sarah had always refused to do housework. Now she was folding clothes. Stabbing the iron, she said: We’ve been all right the last couple of weeks, Dad. Everybody feels better. I agreed to leave Carlton Street on that basis, okay? That I would stay with Mum. Looking up at her father, she said: I’ve started doing piano again, Dad. Hilary said: She’s going to re-take her exams in November, Dan. Tom looked from daughter to mother. He was crying. So we all live together here, Daniel said, pretending to be a family while the press do their best to destroy me. Two months say, three. Then at the end, we break up. Hilary muttered: You’ve destroyed me in so many ways, Dan. As she spoke, her voice broke up. He had known this would happen. She was overwhelmed by emotion: You said, in your letter: All that was over ages ago . . . She was unable to go on. Tom seemed to be in despair. His hands clenched and unclenched. Offhand, Sarah explained: We’ve been staying with Christine.
