Our Kind of Cruelty(64)
When Xander stood I could almost believe he was holding a gun as he walked to the witness box. He didn’t preamble, he just came straight out with it. ‘You propositioned Mr Hayes for sex on the night of the wedding, didn’t you?’
Louise’s eyes widened. ‘No,’ she said, ‘absolutely not.’
‘You followed him outside when he went to get some fresh air and told him you’d always fancied him and that your husband, James’ – Xander looked at his papers, although I knew it was only for effect – ‘fucks like a rabbit.’ There were titters from the jury and Louise turned the colour of freshly fallen snow. I wondered if James was sitting somewhere in front of me.
But she recovered her composure and looked straight at me. ‘Michael Hayes is a fantasist,’ she said. ‘I would never do anything like that. And, for the record, I have never fancied him.’
‘But what reason would Mr Hayes have for pushing you? He says he removed your hands from his groin and, because you were so drunk, you fell over.’
Louise opened her mouth and she looked momentarily like a fish. ‘That is not true.’ But her tone had weakened.
‘He says you were very angry,’ Xander continued. ‘You shouted expletives after him when he walked away. Angry enough to come here and lie about him in court.’
‘No,’ Louise said. ‘That’s not how it happened at all.’
‘No further questions, my lord.’ Xander returned to his table with a spring in his step. I think he would have winked at me if he thought he could get away with it.
Recently a confusion has settled over me which is blanketing my thoughts. Sitting in the courtroom day after day has made me understand that I must sculpt my story in the best way for the right outcome. I have an idea, but the idea also feels wrong. Is lying sometimes the best policy? Is it possible to want the best for someone and yet act in a way which seems the opposite?
Elaine once told me that writing things down helps to simplify problems. List the pros on one side and the cons on the other, she advised, although at the time we were only talking about which GCSEs I should take. And it does undeniably help; when I read our story, mine and V’s, over and over, it calms me. I have always thought that numbers were my friend, but maybe words are as well?
Before I go to sleep each night I hear Xander saying how I don’t want V out in the world having fun whilst I rot away in here. He is of course wrong, as he is about most things, but the things he is wrong about usually also contain an element of truth. What he is right about is that V and I must continue along the same path, our journeys must be conjoined. I think he imagines I want her incarcerated out of some sick feeling of vengeance, or even to keep her away from the world, neither of which is true. I don’t doubt V’s loyalty to me and I don’t think she would be capable of being out in the world having fun without me. I think in fact she would barely be able to function. Which is the reason that I am coming to believe properly in Xander’s strategy. V would be lost without me, she wouldn’t know what to do with herself, she would be stranded and alone. It has always been my job to keep her safe and if I am in here, then she must be in the safest place for her.
Every day in court she looks thinner and weaker, which worries me terribly, but also makes me feel like she can’t be left alone for years without me. I know she must be pining for me and worrying about me, her mind spinning a future she can’t imagine. I’ve noticed she never arrives with a coffee any more and her skin looks tighter across her face, her hair even looks slightly unwashed and she picks at the skin at the side of her nails. She looks like she is falling apart and I know some people would think that is because of the strain of the trial, but I know it is the strain of being without me and worrying about my future. If we accept our fate together and continue along the same path then she will get better; she will put some weight on her bones and a bloom back in her cheeks; her hair will shine again and her mouth will turn upwards into a smile. I know she just needs certainty, my lovely girl, and that certainty will bring with it understanding and peace of mind.
Elaine and Suzi shared a day in court, which seemed strangely right. Suzi went first, dressed in a pale grey suit which was almost the same colour as her skin. She could barely keep still and her hands worried in her lap for the whole time she was there, her eyes filling with tears every time she looked over at V.
‘We welcomed Mike into our lives,’ she was saying to Petra by the time I tuned in. ‘He was a sweet boy, but it was easy to see he was very troubled. There was always something about him which Colin and I never entirely trusted.’
‘Can you elaborate?’
Suzi has lost so much weight her skin now hangs off her face, making her look like an old lizard. I don’t think we will be able to see her when all this is over.
‘There was nothing specific. It was more just a feeling that he was too in love with Verity, if that makes sense. We excused it because of his upbringing, but it often made us uneasy.’
‘Can you give an example of something which made you uneasy?’
‘I know it sounds silly, but even the way he looked at her concerned us, as if he was looking into her rather than at her, if that makes sense. And he never took his eyes off her. You know how you’re aware if you’re staring at someone, you look away because you feel embarrassed. But Mike never looked away. He never even seemed to realise how uncomfortable it made Colin and me. And he was always in contact with her, always had to know where she was and what she was doing. And he didn’t really have any friends, so all their socialising was with her friends and us. He spent nearly every holiday with us, always came for Christmas, that sort of thing. She felt very responsible for him and his happiness, and it worried Colin and me that she should take something like that on at such a young age.’