‘Naturally. During this time did you correspond with Mrs Baines?’
‘Yes, occasionally. Her letters to me were usually just short notes of thanks for gifts I sent to the child.’
‘What did these gifts usually consist of?’
‘Oh, clothing and books.’
‘Nothing financial?’
‘Oh, no. Never.’
‘You never sent money to Mrs Baines?’
‘Never. That would have been insulting.’
‘Why?’
‘Well, because they were in financial difficulties.’
‘You were aware of their circumstances?’
‘Well, yes.’ A slight laugh. ‘Yes.’
‘Did this disturb you? I mean, did it disturb you in regard to your nephew?’
‘Well, of course.’
‘Why did you do nothing about it?’
‘There wasn’t anything I could do. Mr Huxley had been named guardian, not I.
‘Where was Mr Huxley?’
‘In the United States.’
‘Wasn’t this a very impractical arrangement?’
‘Very. But my late sister was somewhat impractical.’
‘She was a writer?’
‘Yes.’
Mr Hood paused and a little shiver of laughs ran through the room. Lila was shocked to notice that Mr Gentle laughed too.
‘Why do you suppose that your late sister would have appointed Mr Huxley as guardian if he was in the United States?’
‘I haven’t the earthliest idea.’
Mr Hood shook his handsome head in bewilderment and gave a loud sigh.
‘Did Mr Ernest Huxley approach you in regard to changing this very impractical arrangement?’
‘Yes.’
‘Mr Huxley approached you.’
‘Yes. He was in London on business and asked to see me.’
‘What took place at this meeting?’
‘Ernest—Mr Huxley said he was very unhappy about everything and that he was especially worried about PS.’
The judge leaned forward and spoke for the first time in a morocco-leather-bound voice.
‘About whom?’
Mr Hood whirled, gown flying, towards the bench and bowed.
‘PS, your honour. It’s the child’s nickname, I believe.’
Mr Justice Hay-Piggott picked up a steel pen.
‘BS?’
‘PS, your honour. It stands, I believe, for “postscript”.’
Vanessa said to the bench, ‘It was my late sister’s name for him.’
‘The mother’s nickname for him?’ The judge raised Santa Claus eyebrows and wrote PS, as one might sign away Austria.
Mr Hood turned back to Vanessa. ‘Did Mr Huxley then suggest—’
‘PS!’ said the judge, and looked doleful. ‘Proceed, Mr Hood.’
‘Did Mr Huxley then propose that you take over his half of the guardianship, Miss Scott?’
‘Yes. He had no desire to return to Australia and he felt that Mrs Baines should now be relieved of part of the financial burden and I agreed. She had received no financial aid whatever from the child’s father.’
‘The father, Henry Logan Marriott, was then living in the state of Victoria?’
‘Yes.’
‘But he was located and executed the Deed of Disposal of Guardianship.’
‘Yes.’
‘Where is he now?’
‘I have no idea.’
‘He has no fixed employment?’
‘None that I know of.’
‘Is he addicted to alcoholism?’
‘Yes.’
‘Now, Miss Scott, on your return to Australia, did you immediately take up your duties as guardian?’
‘Not right away. We had to look for a suitable house and engage servants.’
‘Naturally. So for a short time, no change was made in the status quo.’
‘None. My nephew remained with Mrs Baines.’
‘Now what was the attitude of the Respondent?’
‘Very resentful.’
‘Very—?’
‘Resentful.’
‘In what way?’
‘She telephoned me to come to the house, which I did. She then proceeded to tell me that she was very much against my action and very disapproving of Mr Huxley.’
‘Why?’
‘As I remember, she said that Mr Huxley had no right to delegate authority to me and that he had a duty to my late sister.’
‘But he wasn’t exactly doing anything about that duty, had not, in fact, for six years; isn’t that correct?’
‘I would say so, yes.’
‘Nevertheless, the Respondent showed instant resentment of you?’
‘Instant. She said that her home was quite adequate for the child.’
‘And what was your opinion?’
‘That it was not.’
‘For what reasons?’
‘Well—for one thing, the child’s bedroom was just a tiny box of a room without carpeting of any kind. Furthermore, the only toilet facilities are outside the house.’
Mr Gentle, finally present in court, rose and waved a baby hand.
‘Objection, your honour. Counsel is merely involving the witness in a series of opinions prejudicial to the Respondent.’
The judge peered down, found Mr Gentle, coughed and said, ‘Counsel for the Respondent will have opportunity later to disprove that there was no carpeting in the room in question and that the toilet facilities are outside the house.’
Mr Hood flashed a dazzling smile at the bench.
‘Your honour, the condition of a slum dwelling is of less importance to my—’
‘Objection,’ shrilled Mr Gentle.
‘I withdraw the word “slum”,’ capitulated Mr Hood, and Mr Gentle nodded petulantly and sat down, rubbing one eye.
‘In fact,’ said Mr Hood, ‘we are less concerned at the moment with the condition of the er—house than we are with what took place. Now, Miss Scott, what tentative arrangement did you make with your sister?’
‘We agreed that the boy was to come to me every second weekend.’
‘Why only at weekends?’
‘Well, I didn’t think it was fair either to my sister or to the boy to make any drastic changes so soon.’
‘I see. How long did this arrangement stand?’
‘Oh, let me see. About two months.’
‘What brought about the change?’
‘I paid a visit to the child’s school.’
‘What school was the child attending?’
‘A state school.’
The judge looked down at Vanessa. ‘A state school, you say?’
‘Yes, your honour. A state school.’
‘A state school,’ said Mr Hood, and smiled. ‘Did you think it too was inadequate?’
‘Yes.’ Vanessa smoothed her skirt, seemed to admire her shoes a moment, and Lila pursed her mouth, thinking, They make it sound like something out of Oliver Twist.
Vanessa said, ‘Well, the kindergarten class appeared to be very overcrowded. There were thirty-two other children in the class and lessons were held outside. The headmistress told me they had no space inside.’
‘Even in winter?’
‘I have no idea what arrangement they made in winter. I made a tour of inspection with the headmistress and I found it in an unspeakably run-down condition. The toilets were in a filthy—’
‘I’m sorry, but we cannot discuss toilets, Miss Scott, without fear of prejudice.’ Mr Hood turned and smiled at Mr Gentle, who smiled back. ‘So then you had the child enrolled at an academy—a private school operated by Miss Charlotte Pile?’
‘Yes, it was very highly recommended to me.’
‘Did the Respondent protest at this change?’
‘Yes, she did.’
‘But you overrode her objections?’
‘I felt I had to. Finally she agreed to reverse the arrangement and let my nephew come to me during the week to attend school and g
o to her on weekends.’
‘And this arrangement was held to until the weekend of July the fourteenth of this year?’
‘Yes.’
‘What happened on that weekend?’
‘I held to my part of the agreement and the child went to Mrs Baines for the weekend. About six o’clock on the Sunday evening I received a telephone call from my sister, who simply said, “PS has something to say to you.” ’
‘PS,’ said the judge.
‘What did your nephew say to you, Miss Scott?’
‘The child said, “I’m not coming back. I decided myself.” ’
‘That was all?’
‘That was all. He then hung up.’
‘Do you know of any reason that might have prompted him to say this?’
‘None.’
‘Were you shocked? Surprised?’
‘I was horribly shocked. And afraid.’
‘Do you think that the child might have been prompted by someone to say this?’
‘Yes. Indeed I do.’
‘Do you believe that he wanted to return to you as usual?’
‘Yes.’
‘Why? Did your little nephew appear to be upset, distraught?’
‘Frightfully distraught.’
Mr Hood fiddled with a watch chain.
‘Did you then retain me as counsel to write a letter ordering the Respondent to return your nephew within ten days of the date of this letter?’ Mr Hood waved the letter like a flag.
‘Yes.’
‘Did you further instruct me to deliver this letter to the Respondent in person?’
‘Yes, I did.’
‘Will you state what happened on the evening of July the seventeenth of this year?’
‘Yes. I went to the house of the Respondent and waited in the car while you delivered the letter to her. After a few minutes, my sister came out to the car. She appeared to be very hysterical and she said, “PS is never coming back to you and I don’t care what Mr Hood says, you will have to get a court order.” I then asked very calmly if I might see my nephew.’
‘Did the Respondent agree?’
‘After some hesitation she went into the house and came back with the child. I said to him, “What’s the matter, PS? This isn’t like you at all.” ’
‘And what did the child say?’
‘He repeated what he had said on the telephone. “I’m not coming back to you. I’ve decided.” ’
‘ “I’ve decided.” ’
‘Yes. So then I said, “Why don’t you sit down here with me and we’ll have a talk about it.” ’
‘Meaning for him to get into the car?’
‘Yes.’
‘It was a cold night.’
‘Yes, very cold actually.’
‘And you didn’t want the little boy to have to stand in the cold street while you talked to him.’
‘Exactly.’
‘Exactly. Proceed.’
‘Well, I put my hand out to help him into the car and—’
‘Just a minute. Did he seem reluctant about getting into the car?’
‘Oh, absolutely not. Eager, in fact. He put his hand out—’
‘The child put his hand out first?’
‘Yes.’
‘You’re sure of that?’
‘Positive. He reached out for me and just as I put my hand out to help him into the car, my sister caught hold of him and pulled him back.’
‘The Respondent pulled him back forcibly?’
‘Yes, and held on to him.’
‘Did she say anything?’
‘Oh, yes. She was extremely overwrought and hysterical and started screaming at me and calling me a kidnapper and attracted the attention of neighbours. She then encouraged the neighbours to boo at me.’
‘Was the child upset?’
‘Of course. He was struggling to get free of her and crying.’
‘Struggling and crying.’
‘Crying piteously.’
Mr Hood threw up his arms in a gesture of heartrending pity for all the homeless, bereft children of the sad world.
‘The little boy was struggling and crying to get to you. So what did you do, Miss Scott?’
‘Well, finally I told the chauffeur to drive off. I didn’t wish to prolong the child’s agony. I knew that it was impossible to reason with my sister any longer and that I should have to resort—to apply to the court for restitution.’
Mr Hood took a cambric handkerchief from his sleeve, blew his nose loudly.
‘The twists!’ said Lila to George. ‘The wicked twisting. I’m thankful Mater is not alive to hear her.’
‘What?’
‘Mater. Glad she’s dead.’
‘Why?’
‘Tell you later.’
‘Now, Miss Scott, there’s one thing I would like to make clear to his honour. You have said that the Respondent often defied your wishes in regard to your ward and also encouraged him to deceive you.’
‘Yes.’
‘Can you give us an explicit example?’
‘Yes. Last May, I believe it was, she overrode my objections and took him to a writers’ picnic.’
The judge looked down. ‘What kind of picnic?’
‘A collection of writers were giving a charity picnic. I believe it’s called the Pen and Ink Club.’
‘Why would you object to that?’
‘I do not consider these people fit company for a child of six and a half.’
‘You knew these people?’
‘I know some of them. They were friends of my sister Sinden. I consider them Bohemian.’
Mr Justice Hay-Piggott frowned at Vanessa. ‘Bohemian? Is that a classification of some sort?’
Mr Hood said, ‘Do you mean shiftless, erratic, bizarre?’
‘Yes,’ said Vanessa.
‘When the boy came home, did he tell you about this picnic?’
‘Not at first. He had been told to say nothing about it.’
‘How did you ascertain this?’
‘He was so very disturbed and tense that I sensed what had happened. I said, “PS, you mustn’t worry about anything but you must tell me the truth. Did Lila—” ’
‘Meaning the Respondent?’
‘Yes. “Did Lila make you go to the picnic?” and he said, “Yes.” ’
‘Did he then describe this—this picnic?’
‘Vividly. He was very confused about the people there. He said they were very strange and there had been a lot of drinking.’
‘Some of these writers were drunk?’
‘Apparently, from the way he described it. And also there was a lot of talk about his mother in front of him.’
‘What kind of talk?’
‘He had got it into his head that his mother never wore shoes.’
‘How?’
‘I believe someone there told a story of how my late sister met Logan Marriott at some fancy-dress dance party and ran off with him without her shoes.’
‘Objection, your honour,’ shrilled Mr Gentle. ‘This is merely assumption and there is no direct evidence that any story—’
Mr Hood smiled. ‘Your honour, we are not trying to establish whether the late Mrs Marriott ran off into the night without her shoes. We are merely stating what the child told.’
‘Objection overruled,’ said Mr Hay-Piggott, and looked for a long time at Mr Gentle.
‘The child was upset at this story?’
‘Naturally.’
‘And were you upset by it?’
‘Frankly,’ said Vanessa, and became queenlike for a moment, ‘I have no idea how my sister met Logan—met Mr Marriott, but I consider it wrong for a child to hear a coarse story about his mother.’
‘Continue.’
‘Well, he then maintained that it was implied in front of him that he had been responsible for his mother’s death.’
Several women near Lila said, ‘Ooooossssh,’ and the judge tapped lightly on the bench with his gavel, looked like a hooded ea
gle about to fly.
Lila hid her face for a moment, feeling waves of asthma rising, heard Mr Hood say:
‘Is it possible, Miss Scott, that the child was making this up?’
‘I do not believe so. He said he was told by one of these writers that he must finish a novel my sister was writing at the time of her death. He then said that he would never become a writer, never, and he used a vulgar expression that he had picked up from these people.’
‘What was the expression?’
A slight pause.
Vanessa, eyeing her shoes again, said, ‘Bosh and balls.’
The judge leaned down. ‘Bosh and what?’
‘Balls, your honour,’ said Mr Hood, and bit his lower lip.
Mr Justice Hay-Piggott wrote a word.
After the sniggers died down, Mr Hood said, ‘Anything else?’
‘Yes.’ Vanessa, satisfied with her shoes, gazed directly into Mr Hood’s eyes. ‘The child then asked me what a homosexual is.’
The intake of breath was like a rip tide that carried Lila with it and flung her on a beach.
‘Did he use the word?’
‘No.’
‘What word did he use?’
‘An ugly word.’
‘What?’
‘Is it necessary to—? Poofter. He said, “What is a poofter?” ’
Before the judge could ask the same question Mr Hood flashed the answer in a loud, richly appalled voice. ‘Poofter is a slang word, your honour, used to describe a male homosexual.’ Eyebrows sky high, the judge asked how it was spelled and Mr Hood obliged. Then, weighted with shame, he gazed at the floor and asked:
‘Did the child explain his reason for asking?’
Vanessa said, ‘Well, it seems that one of his mother’s friends had been described as a—well, by this word.’
‘Did you attempt to explain the word to him?’
‘I simply said it was a horrible ugly word that he must never use, like dago.’
Lila, sensing eyes on her, feeling publicly stoned, thrashed around in her mind for answers, remembering uneasily that Conchita Ewers had rambled on about something of the sort. Something about some young friend of Sinden’s who had committed suicide. All this fuss over some chance remark that Lila could not even remember. Was that really what the word meant? She ought to have asked George at the time but too late now, the damage had been done.
‘Did you protest to your sister over the incident of this unfortunate picnic?’
‘No, I felt that much stronger action was necessary. I felt my nephew should be taken away from Mrs Baines’ influence altogether.’
Careful, He Might Hear You Page 26
