Authors: Marian Babson
The Cat Next Door (12 page)
Tikki gave a perfunctory purr then, satisfied with his inspection, gathered himself and darted up the stairs. A moment later, there was a glad cry of greeting from Lynette.
âWell, that will take care of her for a while,' Emmeline said. âWhy don't you go and lie down for a bit? You can join the others in court for an hour or so this afternoon. If you feel up to it.'
âI will.' Margot pulled herself to her feet; she could make the stairs. Of course she could. And she could face a stint in court, too. But â âMilly â¦?'
âMilly started a new book this morning. It's the first of a trilogy and she has all three. They'll keep her occupied for the next couple of days.' Emmeline's eyes clouded. âI suppose there are worse things to do than drugging oneself with words. But she'll have to come back into the world sometime â¦'
Aye, there's the rub
⦠Margot nodded numbly and turned to face the endless stairs. What would Milly do when she could no longer escape reality? When the verdict came in?
⦠Margot nodded numbly and turned to face the endless stairs. What would Milly do when she could no longer escape reality? When the verdict came in?
What would any of them do?
It seemed a very small room to harbour such enormous matters of life and death, made smaller by the way it was laid out. The centre was completely taken up by tables and benches occupied by black-robed white-wigged figures talking quietly among themselves. Along the walls, all four sides were sectioned off by pale oak wood partitions behind which were rows of seating on two sides facing each other. At the top end of the room, the partition rose to become the judge's bench, with His Lordship on high, the great Royal Seal of lion and unicorn rampant, carved and painted, hung on the wall above him, firm reminder of the majesty of the law. Below the bench were lesser tables housing the court recorder and the clerk of court. On, one side of them, the witness box with a chair and two microphones waited.
At the opposite end of the room, facing the judge directly, was the only almost empty seating in the room: the dock, where the accused â the defendant â sat alone. A tiny solitary figure Margot could not bring herself to look at.
Chloe. Cousin Chloe, friend of her childhood.
Margot closed her eyes against the swirling dizziness, but could not close out the memories. Chloe: laughing, teaching the younger ones to ride, organising picnics and swimming parties, taking them to the cinema, always there to be relied on to help with homework, provide extra pocket money, sort out misunderstandings.
Chloe, who had always been one of the foundation stones of their lives.
Chloe, who had always been one of the foundation stones of their lives.
Now she was Chloe, the accused. Chloe, the defendant. Chloe ⦠the murderess?
â
Court rise
.' A black-garbed woman had entered and given the order. QCs, barristers and all their attendants, the jury, the public, everyone in the courtroom surged to their feet to stand silent as a red-robed figure in white wig entered from a side door adjacent to the bench and walked along the high bench to his seat, dwarfed by the great Seal above his head.
Court rise
.' A black-garbed woman had entered and given the order. QCs, barristers and all their attendants, the jury, the public, everyone in the courtroom surged to their feet to stand silent as a red-robed figure in white wig entered from a side door adjacent to the bench and walked along the high bench to his seat, dwarfed by the great Seal above his head.
Those directly concerned with the law bowed gravely to him and everyone resumed their seats. One of the QCs stepped forward to the bench and had a quiet word with the judge. They nodded to each other and laughed, actually laughed. What were they doing â reminiscing about the party last night?
Margot clamped down on a surge of irritation. They had a right to their private lives. That was what law and justice was all about: everyone's right to a private life lived in peace. A life that should not be taken from them.
A life for a life. Oh, they didn't hang people any more, but was a life spent in prison really preferable? What would Chloe be like after fifteen or twenty years? What was she like now? Margot braced herself to look, for the first time, at the defendant.
Beside her, Uncle Wilfred twitched suddenly and scrabbled in his jacket pocket, pulling out a roll of peppermints. He stuffed several of them into his mouth before offering the roll to her. She was aware of his relief as she shook her head, there were barely enough for him there. She wondered if he had more rolls squirrelled away.
The momentary distraction had weakened her resolve. It took her another few moments to steel herself again for what she might see. At last, she turned her head slowly and saw â
Claudia
!
!
Margot leaned back and closed her eyes, wondering if she were hallucinating ⦠wondering if she had fainted from shock.
They were twins, that was all. Of course they looked like each other. Identical twins. And yet, it had been possible to tell them apart, especially as they had grown older. Little, indefinable things separated them. A bit more flesh rounding Chloe's chin, the quick fluid gestures of Claudia, the faintest difference in the timbre of their voices â¦
Was that why Chloe had refused to speak?
No! It was impossible! Someone would have noticed. Claudia's had been too large a personality to mask. Chloe's slightly diffident air had usually given her away.
No, it made no sense. Why should Claudia want to kill Chloe, any more than Chloe would want to kill Claudia? It would be like killing oneself, an obscure form of suicide. And yet, one of them was dead, the other one on trial for her murder.
â
Court rise
.' She had to move, to stand, perhaps to bow like the others as the judge left the room, followed by one of the court officials. What was happening now? Was it all over? Had something vital been decided in that brief interchange between judge and QC?
Court rise
.' She had to move, to stand, perhaps to bow like the others as the judge left the room, followed by one of the court officials. What was happening now? Was it all over? Had something vital been decided in that brief interchange between judge and QC?
No, no, it couldn't be. The jury would have had something to say, a verdict to give.
She looked at Wilfred, but he was lost in his private world, seizing the opportunity to crunch his mints between his teeth in the brief respite from absolute silence. The barristers, unconcerned, were talking among themselves. Perhaps nothing important was happening, after all.
â
Court rise
.' The judge was back already. Perhaps it had been nothing more than a sudden call of nature. They were only human. Weren't they?
Court rise
.' The judge was back already. Perhaps it had been nothing more than a sudden call of nature. They were only human. Weren't they?
Wilfred swallowed audibly and crammed several
more mints into his mouth. The judge cleared his throat and the proceedings began.
more mints into his mouth. The judge cleared his throat and the proceedings began.
It was all so quiet and civilised. The QC for the Crown Prosecution Service began his address, speaking in so conversational a manner that, standing as he was with his back to the public benches in order to address the jury, he could barely be heard. What phrases drifted over his shoulder to the listening public were so appalling that Margot could only catch her breath. So many terrible suggestions, couched in terms of sweet reasonableness that they seemed almost possible. The very calmness of his presentation defused all the emotion in the situation.
Comfrey QC, for the defence, at the opposite end of the long table, was jotting down notes, bending forward into a sort of box which shielded his notations from any prying eyes. When he came to speak in defence of Chloe, would he, too, be so ⦠so bloodless and dispassionate that it relegated his speech to just another form of intellectual debate?
Margot risked another quick glance towards the dock. This time the defendant looked more like Chloe. Unmistakably Chloe, head bowed, eyes downcast, all propensity towards diffidence multiplied a thousand times. Was that what prison had done to her?
Or, no ⦠not to her. She wasn't there. Wherever she had retreated to, Chloe was not here. Only the shell of the woman sat in the dock. Was she as remote as she seemed? Was she seeing what was going on before her? The bench, the judge, the jury, the legal teams, the full panoply of the law? Or -?
Beside Margot, Uncle Wilfred suddenly began to shake, then jerk convulsively. She turned, startled and frightened, to look at him. Was he having a heart attack? It would not be surprising if the strain had become too much for him. And surely he had put himself further into the risk category by the amount of weight he had piled on in so short a space of time.
His face was turning puce, he clawed convulsively at his throat, his breath came in gasps. He was choking.
He was also becoming increasingly noisy. The judge turned his head to see what was going on. The QC on his feet stopped speaking and listened, testing the atmosphere before turning slowly.
Chloe did not move.
âDown ⦠wrong ⦠way,' Wilfred choked, lurching to his feet and pushing past Margot.
Realisation dawned.
He'd swallowed one of his bloody peppermints!
Margot got out of his way hastily. He blundered past her, gasping for air, his upper torso heaving.
He'd swallowed one of his bloody peppermints!
Margot got out of his way hastily. He blundered past her, gasping for air, his upper torso heaving.
The court usher rose and, after a quick bow to the judge, came towards them purposefully. Margot turned and fled after Wilfred, aware that Richard had half risen from his seat and was turning his head from side to side, first looking after them and then looking towards the judge, not sure whether he should follow or stay to support his sister.
In one last glance as the door closed behind them, Margot saw both QCs advance to the bench to confer with the judge. It seemed likely that further proceedings might be suspended until they discovered whether they had a medical emergency on their hands.
â
Aaaaaargh
â¦
aaaaargh
â¦' With the courtroom door closed, Wilfred gave full-throated cry to his distress.
Aaaaaargh
â¦
aaaaargh
â¦' With the courtroom door closed, Wilfred gave full-throated cry to his distress.
Margot thumped him on the back and continued thumping, although it appeared to be having no effect. She began to be worried; this could be serious.
âIs he all right?' The court usher appeared beside her. âDoes he need medical help? Oxygen? Is it a congenital condition?'
â
Aaaaaargh
â¦
aaaaargh
â¦
Yee-ow
!' The last was a yelp of alarm as another heavy blow from Margot sent him reeling across the corridor towards the suddenly insubstantial-looking railing that might not be enough
to keep him from plunging over it and down to the atrium floor.
Aaaaaargh
â¦
aaaaargh
â¦
Yee-ow
!' The last was a yelp of alarm as another heavy blow from Margot sent him reeling across the corridor towards the suddenly insubstantial-looking railing that might not be enough
to keep him from plunging over it and down to the atrium floor.
âHang on!' Straight into Nan's arms. She caught him and whirled him around expertly, clasped her arms around his midriff and pulled him sharply to her.
â
Aaaa â Oooomph!
' A splatter of small circular white objects flew from his mouth.
Aaaa â Oooomph!
' A splatter of small circular white objects flew from his mouth.
âBetter?' Nan had not released her hold. For good measure, she yanked him to her again, expelling what little air he had just managed to take in â and anything else that might be lurking in his windpipe.
âI think ⦠you ⦠got it.' His breathing seemed to be returning to normal. âThanks ⦠Nan.'
âThink nothing of it.' Nan slowly unwound her arms, her face nearly as pink as his.
âIs he all right now?' The court usher was hovering, obviously anxious to report back to the judge.
âYes, yes, I'm fine.' Wilfred spoke for himself. âSorry about that â ' He gestured towards the peppermint-littered floor.
The usher dismissed his apology with a wave of her hand. She didn't have to clean it up.
âWhen did you get here?' Margot asked Nan. âWhy didn't you come in?'
âI'm a witness.' Nan grimaced. âI have to wait out here until I'm called.'
A witness. Yes, of course. Nan had been there that night. First on the scene. What had been her first reaction: to gently detach the knife from Chloe's grasp? Or to hug Lynette and hurry her away from the terrible sight? Poor Nan, torn between the devastating needs of her nurslings.
âAfter I've given my evidence,' Nan continued, âthey tell me I can join the rest of you on the public benches.' Nan held Margot with her gaze and asked, âHow is she?'
âI don't know. She doesn't move. She doesn't look up. She just ⦠sits there.'
Nan nodded as though she had expected no different. Her faint troubled sigh was barely audible.
âShall we go back in?' Uncle Wilfred was himself again. âI'm perfectly fit now.'
The door opened just as they reached it and people began filing out of the courtroom. Among them was Richard; he took his father's arm.
âWhat's happening?' Wilfred demanded.
âThey've ended for the day,' Richard said. âIt's four-thirty, after all. We can go home now.'
âHome â¦' Wilfred rummaged for his mints and threw another handful of them into his mouth. âHome â¦' His voice was faint and wistful ⦠and curiously lost. âHome â¦'
Â
Â
Home wasn't what it used to be; perhaps it never had been. Nevertheless, Margot felt herself relax as the familiar walls closed around her. The inevitable had been postponed. At least, for another day. She wouldn't worry about tomorrow until it arrived.
A warm welcoming aroma of something delicious cooking in the oven floated through the air.
âOh, good,' Nan said. âMilly remembered to put the steak-and-mushroom pie in the oven. I hope she's put the baking potatoes in, too. I left them all scrubbed and ready, but she sometimes gets ⦠distracted.'
âWouldn't it have been easier to put everything in the oven and just set the timer on the cooker?'
âWell, it would, yes. But I like to give her little tasks to do. I think it helps to keep her ⦠in touch. Nothing that can't be salvaged fairly painlessly if she forgets. But â ' Nan sniffed the air expertly and brightened. âThere's something else cooking in there, too. Perhaps she's â '
âDon't get your hopes up.' Emmeline appeared in the kitchen doorway. âI put the pie and potatoes in the oven and I made the cake. Milly hasn't stirred out of the morning room all day.'
âI might have known it,' Nan sighed. âI suppose it was expecting too much. Today, of all days.'
Of all days? It was just the first of who knew how many days. They looked at each other grimly.
âYou know what happened?' Nan asked.
âRichard rang and told me. They're staying on for another conference with Comfrey and the legal team.'
âThey'll be home later,' Nan nodded. âThat's why the steak-and-mushroom pie. Warming it up won't spoil it. I expected something like this.'
Other books
Selby Shattered by Duncan Ball
Danika's Gift by Wilde, Jayn
Witch Upon a Star (A Midnight Magic Mystery) by Jennifer Harlow
Opposites Attract by Cat Johnson
Princes of War by Claude Schmid
Somewhere To Be by Amy Yip
Z-Risen (Book 2): Outcasts by Long, Timothy W.
Ruthless by Ron Miscavige
Through a Dark Mist by Marsha Canham
La formación de Francia by Isaac Asimov