by Carys Jones
As he held his wife, standing there in the kitchen of their new home, he prayed that Brandon had hit Brandy. Because if he hadn’t, and if he had been foolish enough to believe the lies of a desperate woman, there was no telling what lengths Clyde White and Buck Fern would go to.
Chapter Ten: Father, Can You Hear Me?
When Brandy White saw Father West sitting on the opposite side of the Perspex glass her heart soared and an unfamiliar feeling began to creep up inside her. It was hope.
‘Oh, Father West,’ she gushed, leaning forward and pressing her palms against the glass. ‘I knew you would come!’
Father West smiled fondly at her. Her love for him, for the church, was so sweet and pure. To see her like this, caged like an animal, it broke his heart.
‘How are you doing, Brandy?’
‘I’m doingOK. The food isn’t all that great and I am getting mighty bored just sitting in my room all day long.’ She spoke as if she were on a less than pleasant vacation, rather than sat on death row awaiting sentencing. He admired her courage, or was she merely in denial?
‘The trial is only a few days away now. How are you feeling about it?’
‘I’m feeling really good,’ she smiled. ‘I’ve been talking to Mr. Connelly; he has been so nice to me.’
‘What have you told him?’
‘I’ve told him…you know…what happened? And he didn’t judge me, he was actually quite kind!’
‘Well, he’s a nice man.’
‘Father West, I don’t want people to hate me any more. If they knew the truth about Brandon, about what he did, do you think they might understand me more?’
‘I’m sure they will, Brandy.’
She smiled and her face lit up and Patrick West remembered, regretfully, the vows he had taken when joining the priesthood. He was still a flesh and blood man and when a woman as beautiful as Brandy smiled so fondly at him he began to have yearnings, desires. If it wasn’t for the dog collar around his neck he would have taken her in his arms a long time ago and shown her how a real man loves a woman. But this was neither the time nor the place for such thoughts.
‘You understand what will happen at the trial, if you are found guilty?’ He put the question to her as delicately as he could.
‘I am guilty.’
‘Well, yes, so you are aware of what will happen?’
‘I’ll die.’ It seemed so surreal to hear her say those words. She was a healthy young woman, in the prime of her life, yet she was being forced to contemplate her impending fate. Her time on this earth was going to be cut tragically short.
‘Have you made your peace with God?’ he asked, hiding being the priest mask. She nodded solemnly.
‘I pray every night, asking him to understand the choices I have made and to welcome me into his kingdom.’
‘Good girl, remember, the Lord forgives all sins as long as you repent.’ He felt like a fraud as he sat there facing her. Yes, in theory God forgave those who repented their sins, but what about those who commit murder? If you take another life what fate does await you on the other side? There was no guarantee that being sorry was enough to get you past the gates of heaven.
‘Just make sure you keep praying, and I’ll pray for you too.’
‘Thank you, Father.’
They were both silent for a moment, each lost in their own thoughts. It was Brandy who spoke first, her voice unsteady.
‘Am I…am I doing the right thing?’
‘Of course you are.’ He reached forward to touch her, forgetting the glass which kept them apart. His hand made a hollow sound as it smacked against it. ‘Brandy, what you are doing is incredibly brave. The way that Brandon treated you…it was just disgusting. The town needs to know who he truly was. It sickens me when people celebrate him. He was a monster, a monster which you slew. It should be you who is the hero!’
‘I’d love that more than anything.’
‘Love what?’
‘To be seen as a hero. For people to look at me and smile. When I walk past people would just say hello instead of pointing and whispering behind my back. I’d give anything just to feel loved, just once. Like how everyone looked at me when I won my crown.’ She bowed her head in sadness; the time when she could hold her head high with pride felt like an all too distant memory.
‘You are a hero to me,’ Father West said in an effort to comfort her. But it was true; he did see her as a hero. She had conquered her demons and was accepting the consequences with such dignity and grace. He admired her more than she would ever know. Perhaps in another life, another time, he could have told her, he could have loved her.
‘I’m so glad that you came. I was scared that you were going to desert me.’
‘I could never desert you.’
‘I want people to remember me as a good person but I know that they won’t.’ The thought that the eternal memory that the world would hold of her was to be a negative one left Brandy distraught. Sat day after day in her tiny cell at Eastham Ladies Penitentiary she had nothing but time to think, to re-evaluate her life. To relive mistakes over and over again. Her greatest regret was letting her mother go. She missed her dearly, even if she wasn’t the greatest parent in the world. Now more than ever she could use her guidance, just a few kind words. Would Janice Cotton ever know that her daughter had died? Perhaps she would sense it, in only the way a mother could: that something that was once so close to you, so connected, was now gone forever. Maybe she would just wake up and feel a profound sense of emptiness, like something was missing but she couldn’t work out what. As long as on some level she knew that her daughter had passed, Brandy would be happy.
Father West hated to leave Brandy there, alone, but he had no choice.
‘I’m afraid I must go, I have service in an hour.’
‘Yes, of course.’
‘I’ll be thinking of you.’
‘Will you come again?’
He knew he shouldn’t. This one visit was already tearing him up inside more than he had imagined it would.
‘I’ll try to,’ he lied.
‘Remember me,’ she said softly as she was led away, tears pricking at her eyes. The greatest fear that anyone dying young had to face was remembrance. That in their all too brief time on Earth they had failed to leave any lasting mark. But Brandy White would be remembered. Perhaps not for the right reasons, but her name would be on the lips of the people of Avalon for many years to come.
‘Mommy, where we going?’ Meegan asked as Isla strapped the toddler into her car seat.
‘We are going to see one of Daddy’s friends,’ she told her as she consulted her map once more.
‘Why isn’t Daddy coming?’
‘Daddy is working, baby girl. It is just you and me.’ The words echoed in her head long after she had said them. Avalon no longer felt remotely like home. Isla felt as if the townspeople were watching her every move, judging her. If Aiden didn’t change his plea in Brandy’s case their family would be forever branded. She couldn’t have that. If they were to remain there, then for Meegan’s sake she had to do something. As she drove off she wondered if she was doing the right thing, but Aiden had left her with no other option. If Aiden wouldn’t push the murder charge then Isla would have to go straight to the source directly herself. She would do anything to protect Meegan, to protect her family. Brandy White was manipulating Aiden, Isla was sure of it. Batting her eyelashes and playing on his good nature. But Isla refused to stand idly by and let it continue.
‘You sure are popular today,’ the guard said as she opened up Prisoner 929’s cell.
‘What?’ Brandy asked, confused.
‘You’ve got another visitor.’
Her heart soared as she was led into the familiar visiting room with the glass wall. She was expecting to see Aiden sat there waiting for her, but to her surprise she was confronted by a woman. Not just a woman, but also a child. A small girl was sat on the woman’s knee, gazing out at Brandy with terrified eyes. For a mo
ment Prisoner 929 hesitated. Clearly, this visitor was not for her, she had never seen her before in her life.
‘My, the people of Avalon were right, you truly are stunning,’ the woman said to her sadly.
Bemused, Brandy sat down in her chair.
‘It is no wonder that he comes to see you so much.’
‘I’m sorry but do I know you?’
‘No, but you know my husband.’
‘Your husband?’
‘Yes, Aiden Connelly, your lawyer. He is my husband.’
As Brandy took in the identity of her female visitor, Isla watched her intently. She was breathtaking. With youth on her side and a glowing mane of luscious blonde hair she was the stuff of every teenage boy’s fantasy. Isla watched for any hint of guilt in her eyes, or shame, but if anything, she seemed frightened. Sat behind the glass Mrs. Connelly was beginning to feel extremely foolish for having come. There was no way Aiden could be having any sort of physical relationship with this young woman, he couldn’t even touch her! She was stupid to have ever entertained the idea that he had feelings for the girl. Yet here she was, she had to say something.
‘I wanted to come and see you.’
Meegan leant forward, intrigued by the wall of glass, and began placing her little hands all over it.
‘Is that your daughter?’
‘Yes, it is.’ Isla wrapped an arm around Meegan protectively and realised that it was not just Brandy who was afraid. The reality that she had bought her infant child to a prison, and was now exposing her to a killer, was beginning to sink in. In her crazed jealous rage she had thought only of confronting Brandy, not the impact it may have on her child.
‘She is lovely.’ Brandy placed a hand against Meegan’s on the glass and the little girl giggled.
‘Why did you bring her here? It isn’t the best place for a child.’
‘I thought that if you saw her, saw me…us, you might change your mind.’
‘Change my mind? Mrs. Connelly I don’t understand.’
‘You’ve told my husband that you killed Brandon because he beat you. And now Aiden wants to change your plea from murder to manslaughter. I’m sure you are already aware of all this.’
Brandy remained quiet, still trying to understand why Aiden’s wife had come to see her.
‘Well, people in town aren’t happy. Just the other day, Clyde White, well, he threatened me and my daughter.’
‘He did?’ Brandy cried. ‘That pompous, pig of a man!’
‘Yes, well, if you are still tried for murder, as you were meant to be, he will leave me and my family alone.’
‘So what are you saying?’
‘I’m saying that you may well have wrapped my husband round your little finger and got him to believe your lies but you are not fooling anyone else. Tell him that you lied, that Brandon never laid a hand on you and be tried for murder.’
‘But I’m not lying!’ Brandy protested.
‘I don’t care if you are lying or not. You are putting my family in danger. What difference does it make, if you are tried for manslaughter? You will just spend the rest of your life rotting in a jail cell, is that what you want?’
‘So, you are saying that my life doesn’t matter?’
‘Not as much as my daughter’s life, no!’
Meegan was still placing her hands along the glass wall, giggling softly to herself. Brandy watched her with sad eyes.
‘How old is she?’
‘Two.’
‘My baby would be nearly three.’ Her eyes welled up with tears as she continued to watched Meegan.
‘You have a baby?’ Isla asked, surprised.
‘No, I lost my baby.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘No you’re not.’
Isla was taken aback by Brandy’s abrupt reply.
‘I understand that you want to protect your daughter, but to bring her here, to tell me to lie just because Clyde White spooked you. You are so very different to your husband.’
Brandy was now looking at Aiden’s wife. She was pretty but not stunning. Her face seemed to be permanently contorted into a scowl which suggested that she wasn’t exactly a ray of sunshine.
‘Mr. Connelly is a good, decent man. He is kind and has only ever been nice to me. I find it hard to believe that he would be married to such a cruel, cold woman.’
‘Don’t you dare judge me!’ Isla spat. Meegan cowered at her mother’s angry tone and abruptly stopped playing with the glass and sat very still.
‘You are telling me to put aside my own life for the sake of yours!’
‘I didn’t kill my husband, you did. You deserve everything you get.’ The harsh words came tumbling out of Isla’s mouth before she had the chance to stop them.
‘I bet you fit in real well in Avalon, Mrs. Connelly. You are just as hollow as the rest of them.’
‘I’ll be leaving now.’ Isla stood up and grabbed Meegan.
‘It was so lovely to meet you,’ Brandy said sarcastically.
She watched Mrs. Connelly and her daughter leave, her mind wrapped up in what might have been. That could have been her, holding her own child. Yet now she would never have the chance to be a mother. Even the wife of the man she looked to as her saviour wanted her dead. Perhaps the world would be a better place without her? Holding back tears, Brandy was led back to her cell, thankful for the first time to be alone.
Isla sat with her hands on the wheel in the parking lot of Eastham Ladies Penitentiary. Beside her, Meegan had quickly got over the drama in the interview room and was sleeping soundly in her car seat. She was disturbed by the woman she had become when she was with Brandy. The things she had said, they were just pure evil. And what was worse was that she had behaved that way in front of her own daughter. She had always been the jealous type, with a husband as handsome as Aiden it was hard not to be. But she had never been this bad before. Surely she was not threatened by a woman sat on death row for killing her own husband? In what sick world would Aiden have an affair with such a person? Isla started to cry. If she had even contemplated that Aiden could have had feelings for Brandy, what did that say about the state of their marriage? The person she should really be angry at was herself. Instead she had lashed out at a young girl who was probably already terrified at being so close to her own death. She had acted completely out of character and it was inexcusable. Passion and rage had driven her to this extreme, sat here with her daughter at a prison. Were she and Brandy that different? If under the same circumstances, would she have done the same thing, could she kill? Isla shuddered at the thought.
Aiden lingered at the back of the church as Father West concluded his sermon. He waited patiently as the priest thanked each of his parishioners for coming before approaching him.
‘Ah, Mr. Connelly!’
‘Father West.’
‘How very good to see you! Did you enjoy the service?’
‘To be honest I only caught the end of it. I came to see you.’
Father West smiled in surprise.
‘To what do I owe the pleasure?’
They wandered back into the pleasant cool of the church and settled down in a front pew.
‘Brandy’s trial is only a few days away now.’
‘Yes, I am aware.’ Father West gazed sadly past Aiden.
‘Well, I need your help.’
‘My help?’ His attention quickly returned to the young lawyer.
‘I’ve no doubt that you have heard that I am no longer going to have Brandy tried for murder. I think that she can stand for manslaughter.’
‘Which means?’
‘That her life would at least be spared.’
‘That is a brave move, Mr. Connelly.’
‘Yeah,’ Aiden sighed. ‘People around here aren’t exactly being supportive. That is why I need you.’
‘Me?’
‘I need you to go on the stand.’
As a priest, Father West reflected, you tread a fine line each and every day, between bein
g somebody’s confidant and doing what is right. If someone confesses to you committing a crime to ease their conscience and make peace with God, you have no right to hand them over to the authorities. You must keep their secret and bear it as your own. There was a time when Brandy White confided in her priest about the terrible struggles she was having to endure in her marriage. Father West did what he thought was right, going to talk things over with Brandon. It had been the wrong decision. He was reluctant to meddle in her affairs again.
‘You know what he did to her,’ Aiden was saying now. ‘Brandy told me that she spoke with you about it, that you tried to reason with Brandon, just before she lost her baby.’
‘Perhaps if I had kept my mouth shut that child would be here today.’ Father West felt heavy with guilt.
‘For all we know he may have beat the kid too. At least now she is free of his abuse.’
‘Not really, she has just exchanged one prison for another.’
‘If you speak on the stand, a priest, no one will dare question you. You are revered in town. With your testimony the judge will have no choice but to charge Brandy with manslaughter. He may be lenient and give her thirty years, which means that she could be a free woman by the time she is 55, which would give her plenty of life left to live.’
‘Yes, but it isn’t that easy,’ the priest said wearily.
‘Why isn’t it? All you have to do is stand there and tell the truth!’
‘As you said, Mr. Connelly, I am revered in town because I am their connection to God. They look to me as someone that they can trust. If I got up and said what I know about Brandon, their perception of me will change. It may even challenge their faith. As much as I have a duty to Brandy, I also have a duty to Avalon. The truth will hurt so many people.’
‘She has no one to fight for her, Father. If you won’t stand up for her, who will?’
‘You.’ Father West placed his hand on Aiden’s shoulder. ‘You have taken on the entire town in order to try and save her and I admire you greatly for that. But my place is here, in my church, not in a courtroom.’
