by H S Chandler
20
Day Eight in Court
The first cool day in weeks left a sticky wetness in the air. Lottie had chosen jeans and a powder blue hoodie to start the new week, partly because of the sudden drop in temperature, but more importantly as a nod to the cascade of guilt she’d endured through the weekend. No more dresses that showed off her legs to attract Cameron’s attention, and no more starchy skirts and blouses to try to fit in with the Tabithas. It was time to be herself.
She’d kept her mobile switched off all day Saturday, dreading the thought of contact with Cameron, knowing it would throw out her mood even further. By Sunday morning she’d been unable to stand not knowing what texts or voicemails might be waiting, and succumbed to temptation. Worse than anything she’d imagined, Cameron hadn’t attempted to contact her at all. Of course, she had told him not to, citing the need for separation between him and the place where she had to be a good mother and maintain the pretence of normality with her husband. But still, she’d thought, perhaps a simple text saying … Saying what? she asked herself. Thanks for the grope in the bathroom. Must do that again soon. What could Cameron possibly have to say to her? By Sunday evening her own neediness was irritating her, as was her inability to look her husband in the eyes. She was skittish and snappy. Grabbing her phone she took matters into her own hands.
‘This has to stop. Too risky. Just friends, okay?’ she texted him, locked in the bathroom to make sure there was no chance of Zain catching her, and turning her phone off again the second she’d finished.
‘Charlotte!’ Zain called her from the lounge as soon as she exited.
She shoved her mobile in her pocket and went to see what he wanted. ‘Yup?’
‘My mother emailed. She’s coming to England for Christmas,’ he said, making notes on a pad as he spoke, ever immersed in his work.
‘When you say Christmas,’ Lottie replied through gritted teeth, ‘how long do you actually mean?’
‘Just three or four weeks. Pakistan’s a long way to come. She’s got to make the journey worthwhile and she hasn’t seen her grandson for eighteen months. It’ll be nice for Daniyal.’
‘And how long were you planning on taking off work during that time?’ Lottie folded her arms and leaned against the door frame.
‘I should be able to get a whole week this year. You need to confirm what date suits you for her to arrive. Mid December would be best. Closer to Christmas the flights get too expensive.’
‘So I’ll be driving her around and entertaining her for the other three weeks, will I?’ Lottie asked. Zain finally looked up.
‘I’ll do my bit when I’m not at work. Did you have plans for December already?’
‘Don’t take the piss,’ Lottie said. ‘It’s fine for you. You’re the golden boy. All she does is criticise the way I cook, how I clean, everything I do with Daniyal …’
‘Come on, Lottie, you’re being oversensitive. It’s not that bad.’
‘And you’re being ignorant. Of course your mother can come here – it’s your house – but you’re looking after her. Maybe I do have plans for December. It might have been nice if you’d at least asked me first.’ She span round grabbing her car keys from the hall table. ‘I’m going to the supermarket. Daniyal’s having his nap. Check on him if you can be bothered to tear yourself away from your paperwork.’
‘Charlotte, we should talk about this!’ he called after her as she slammed the front door.
An hour later she’d returned home and apologised half-heartedly. Zain was entitled to have his mother to stay, even if the thought of listening to her mother-in-law’s griping left her cold. It was just another bed for her to make, more meals to cook, no big drama. And nothing to look forward to. That was the problem. Once jury service was over, Lottie was going back to the same old, same old and she was dreading it.
Pulling the ends of her sleeves down to cover her hands and her hood up around her neck, she made herself as physically unavailable as she could, and prepared for a new week battling both her own desire and Cameron’s advances. As she walked into the jury room, Jennifer grabbed her arm and began whispering in her ear.
‘Tabitha’s asked for an official meeting,’ Jennifer rushed. ‘She’s in a bit of a flap.’
‘Oh God, what is it now?’ Lottie groaned, rolling up the sleeves of her hoodie again. Even the rain hadn’t reduced the temperature in the court building enough for it to be comfortable.
‘Well, apparently,’ Jennifer said, drawing it out as Lottie stared lovingly at the urn of tea that was destined to stay hot only for another ten minutes or so, ‘she has reason to believe that two of us on the jury have been dallying – her word – out of court together.’
Lottie’s tongue was suddenly glued to the roof of her mouth. Jennifer had constructed a mask of melodrama and was wearing it instead of her normal face. The world was moving in slow motion and the room was too loud. Had someone heard or seen them at the Bloxhams’ house? Perhaps it was from the café in the Cabot Centre. Jack was the only person who’d spent much time with her and Cameron. Surely, she thought, he wouldn’t have been gossiping with the Tabithas. Lottie’s hands were damp and her throat was dry.
‘Who?’ Lottie finally whispered, in her mind grabbing Jennifer’s face and squeezing an answer from her mouth. Tabitha would make sure everyone found out. They would be reported to the judge, and publicly humiliated. She and Cameron would be ordered off the jury. Zain would find out somehow, it was inevitable, and there was no way she’d have the strength to lie to him if he questioned her directly. The tacky brown carpet at her feet was suddenly a bed of mud from which she couldn’t seem to move.
‘Don’t know who’s involved,’ Jennifer said. ‘Tabitha wouldn’t say, but we’ll find out as soon as everyone’s here. That’s Pan arriving now, which makes twelve. This should be interesting.’ Jennifer took her seat at the table, tapping her fingers on the wood, barely able to keep the glee from her face. Nothing like a bit of scandal to start a new week, Lottie thought. Only this was an ending, not a beginning.
Cameron’s face appeared from behind Garth-the-tattoo, waving with a newspaper and greeting her with a wink. Lottie shook her head, motioning towards Tabitha who was deeply engaged with Samuel and Agnes. In response, Cameron took his time looking her up and down, raising his eyebrows appreciatively.
‘Good, we’re all here. There is a matter we need to consider prior to going into court so I suggest we all sit down and get started,’ Tabitha officiated.
Lottie tasted stomach acid in the back of her throat. Cameron had no idea what was coming and there was no way she could warn him now without being obvious about it. They had to deny it, or figure out who knew and what their agenda was. At the very least she had to make sure Cameron didn’t react aggressively towards Tabitha. If he handled it badly, Tabitha could and would make both their lives very unpleasant indeed, humiliating them by reporting it to the judge being the least of Lottie’s worries.
Cameron was last to sit down, spending as much time as he could choosing biscuits, no doubt with the aim of frustrating Tabitha. Lottie coughed to get his attention but only succeeded in getting Agnes to offer her a mint to suck.
‘Good,’ Tabitha said as Cameron finally took his seat. ‘It has come to my attention, for the second time, that two among us are becoming more friendly than the rules permit.’
At last Lottie had Cameron’s attention. He frowned at her, then turned his full attention to Tabitha. Lottie’s hands were shaking beneath the desk, one leg tapping an involuntary beat on the floor.
‘I hesitate to bring this up publicly but we all know we’re only supposed to be communicating within this room …’
‘Why don’t you just get on with it?’ Cameron interjected. Lottie took a sharp breath in. This was exactly what she’d worried might happen. He was completely reactive, all the time, ice or fire with very little in between.
‘Fine,’ Tabitha replied curtly. ‘As it concerns you, Mr Ellis,
I’ll be happy to get on with it, as you suggest.’
‘Is there no way this could be handled more discreetly?’ Lottie cut in. Every head turned to stare at her. ‘I mean, do we really need the whole round table showdown? It seems a bit harsh.’
‘No. I want to hear,’ Agnes Huang snapped, to a general round of nods.
‘I think we all have the right to know what’s going on. The rules apply to everyone equally,’ Gregory Smythe chipped in. One of Lottie’s nailed snapped against the underside of the table. She bit down hard on her bottom lip, aware that she could no longer trust herself to speak.
‘The Cabot Centre is, it seems, a very popular venue,’ Tabitha announced.
Lottie’s stomach heaved. It was inevitable that they were going to be noticed sooner or later. How stupid of them to meet in the city, knowing other jurors were in the area. Would the judge be told in public, in front of the press, she wondered. What if the whole trial had to be cancelled and the local papers printed her name? The room began to spin.
‘I hope Mr Finuchin won’t mind me saying it was he who saw you, Mr Ellis, over the weekend out with Mr Pilkington, in quite a severe state of drunkenness apparently.’
Lottie stared at Tabitha. ‘Cameron … and Jack?’ she blurted, her stomach dropping with relief, leaving her dizzy and nauseous.
‘My concern is actually the drunkenness,’ Tabitha pulled herself as upright as she could in her chair. ‘Loose lips sink ships.’
‘This isn’t the Second World War, and Jack and I going drinking together has no relevance to this trial,’ Cameron said.
Lottie directed her attention towards Jack, who was looking completely unperturbed at Cameron’s side.
‘We didn’t talk about the case,’ Jack said. ‘Not when we were sober, not even when we were drunk.’
‘You both looked completely bloody pissed to me,’ Garth Finuchin muttered. ‘I bet you can’t remember anything you said to each other.’
‘Problem solved then,’ Cameron grinned. ‘If we can’t remember what we said to one another, then no harm can have been done.’
‘It’s hardly feasible that you spent the evening together without discussing the case,’ Tabitha responded, her face increasingly stern as Cameron failed to respond with any sincerity. ‘The rules are that we only talk when we’re all together in this room. We’ve discussed it before.’
‘So when I see you and Greg …’ Cameron said, folding his arms and leaning back in his chair.
‘It’s Gregory, thank you,’ Smythe interrupted.
‘Whatever you like,’ Cameron continued. ‘When I see the two of you in the corridor chatting on your way in and out of the building, that’s breaking the rules. Right?’
‘I don’t think it applies within this building …’ Tabitha replied, gritted teeth muffling the consonants.
‘Okay, so when I see Agnes and Samuel saying an extended goodbye outside the court building at the end of the day, that’s not allowed either?’ Cameron smiled at the two offending jurors. Lottie wanted to shake him. She might have been off the hook, but the near-miss adrenalin was still rendering her nauseous, and Cameron winding Tabitha to breaking point wasn’t helping.
‘You’re being deliberately obtuse,’ Tabitha raised her voice. ‘What if you’d been seen by someone from the court or the defence team? They would object and then we might all get sent home.’
‘So this isn’t about the rights and wrongs of my having an evening out with Jack, it’s about you wanting to keep your place at the head of this jury and passing judgment on Maria Bloxham. You know what I hate most about this conversation? It’s being accused of breaking the rules by someone who isn’t even vaguely trying to hide the fact that she’s already convicted and sentenced the defendant in her own mind.’ Cameron stood up and walked to the tea urn, turning his back on Tabitha who stood to respond.
‘Take that back!’ she shouted.
‘Take it back? What are you, eight years old? You really think none of us hears you tutting in court or sees you rolling your eyes?’ Cameron laughed.
‘I’m entitled to my opinion the same as you are,’ Tabitha said, her voice wavering for the first time. Lottie sat forward, holding her breath. Cameron needed to get himself in check. He finished pouring himself a drink and was stirring it slowly as he walked back to stare Tabitha in the face.
‘Actually, you’re not. Not at this point. Perhaps you weren’t listening quite as well as you thought you were, but we’re supposed to hold all judgment until we’ve heard both sides. You’re not supposed to develop sympathies with one team or another until the end point. We’re here to assess information and remain as impartial as possible. Only you were swayed by that pathetic little hedgehog video and by the dear old dribbling doctor. You fell into every trap the prosecution set for you. It was to be expected. Imogen Pascal knows who the easy targets on the jury will be. I’m sure she had you pegged as a pushover from the second she saw the flowery skirt and pearls.’
There was a moment of silence before Pan stood up and coughed. ‘I, er, need make a call to Milan and the line’s bad enough already. I wonder if we could all quieten down a bit for a few minutes. It really is very important.’ He left the table and wandered into a corner, laptop in one hand and mobile in the other. Lottie could have kissed him.
‘Maybe we should leave it there,’ Samuel Lowry murmured. Everyone stared at him. It was the most commanding thing he’d done since they’d been selected for jury duty.
‘Good idea,’ Cameron said, taking his tea and the newspaper back to one of the more comfortable chairs and motioning for Lottie to join him. She gave a brief, small shake of her head. There had been more than enough drama and speculation for one morning. Lottie wasn’t prepared to add any more fuel to the fire.
Instead, Jack joined Cameron and the two of them sat chatting happily, perfectly able to ignore the polar temperatures emitted from the Tabitha brigade who were still sat at the far end of the jury table. Lottie’s phone buzzed in her pocket. When she saw the sender was Cameron, she looked across the room. His eyes were focused on his own mobile.
‘You okay?’ he texted.
‘Sure. Was worried though. Best keep a low profile,’ Lottie replied, taking care to delete both her own and Cameron’s texts as she went.
‘Doesn’t affect us. Jack and I can go for a drink. Don’t let Tabitha intimidate you,’ Cameron typed, giving her one brief glance. Jack leaned across to whisper in Cameron’s ear and got a burst of laughter in response.
Lottie wished she could be sitting there with them, instead of the micro-no-mans-land she found herself in. ‘I’m not intimidated. Just sensible. No point making enemies,’ she typed.
Cameron looked up after he’d read it, staring at her for several seconds, his eyes alight with the glow from his screen. ‘Are we okay? Got your text Sunday. Wanted to respond in person,’ he sent.
‘Tough weekend. Worried we’ll hurt people.’
‘What about what we want?’ he texted.
‘I don’t want to get caught. Certainly not by the Tabithas. They’ll make trouble.’
‘These idiots don’t matter. Do you know how incredible you are?’ Lottie read the text with her heart thumping. Cameron made her feel strong and independent. What the hell did Tabitha think she was doing, upbraiding him and Jack for going out for a drink together? Lottie wished she’d spoken up on their behalves, regretting her fear-induced paralysis. She opted for the next best thing: stoicism after the event.
‘You’re amazing for standing your ground. What did you & Jack get up to?’ she typed.
‘Cinema, beer, curry. Mostly beer.’ Cameron cast a sideways look at Jack who was flicking through a weighty textbook. ‘He needed a friend & a laugh.’
Lottie shot a curious look towards Jack. ‘Something wrong?’
‘Tell you in person,’ Cameron replied. The door opened and the usher announced that the trial was about to start again.
One by one, they put away the
ir phones, laptops and reading material, filing out into the corridor. Lottie caught Cameron as they brought up the rear of the line. ‘Jack’s okay, right?’ she asked.
Cameron rubbed his forehead, looking around to make sure no one else was within hearing distance, before moving closer to whisper into her ear. ‘He told me confidentially, but I know you can be trusted and Jack needs all the support he can get. Jack’s gay and he just told his parents. They’ve reacted badly, and tried to ban him from announcing it publicly under threat of not financing his studies.’
‘That’s awful,’ Lottie muttered as they walked slowly down the corridor towards the jury entrance to the courtroom.
‘They’re old fashioned and feel embarrassed socially, apparently. Anyway, Jack needs their financial backing and doesn’t want to drop out of uni, so he’s stuck. Don’t say anything, will you?’
‘Of course not,’ Lottie said, touching Cameron lightly on the arm. ‘Thanks for telling me though. I’d like to help if I can.’
‘You can help me by agreeing to see me this week. Spending the entire weekend without you was hell, especially after Friday,’ he grinned.
‘Quiet!’ Lottie mouthed as they walked forward to take their place in the jury rows.
‘Say yes then,’ he whispered to her as they sat down. Lottie tried not to grin and had to cover her mouth as she failed. It was easy to text and say she didn’t want to see him from a distance. Rejecting him when he was next to her was impossible. ‘I’m taking that as agreement,’ Cameron said as they picked up their pens and notepaper, ready to start the new day.
