When You Are Mine(79)

As I draw nearer, I realise that her mother has come along with her. Jenny looks even more birdlike and nervous than usual, holding her handbag against her chest, as though expecting a bag-snatcher to accost her.

Alison smiles in relief.

‘Where is your lawyer?’ I ask.

‘I couldn’t find one. I mean, I tried. I called a dozen of them. When I told them the details, they said I should find someone else, but they were all—’

‘Busy?’

She recognises my sarcasm and nods.

‘One of them told me that I didn’t need a lawyer.’

‘You don’t,’ I say, ‘but it would have been helpful.’

‘Can you represent me?’

‘I shouldn’t even be here. Your husband blames me for this.’ I wave my hand towards the courthouse, as though I’m responsible for this whole pageant.

Deep into August, the day is bright and cloudless with that slight haze that blurs anything distant. I’m scanning the crowd, looking for Goodall.

‘Will he come?’ she asks.

‘Most likely, yes.’

‘What do I say?’

‘You tell the judge what happened and that you need a protection order.’

At that moment, I spot Goodall standing beneath a tree on the far side of the road. He is dressed in a charcoal grey suit, white shirt and a blue tie. He has a lawyer with him and the two of them are laughing like old friends.

A court usher calls Alison’s case number. For a moment, she looks panic-stricken. I take her arm and we walk into the building together. I give her last-minute instructions. ‘Stay polite and calm. Speak in a loud voice. Don’t interrupt. If you want to say something, raise your hand.’

The courtroom is empty except for the judge and her clerk. Alison is told to take a seat at the bar table. I sit in the public gallery, only a few rows behind her. Jenny chooses to sit apart from me.

Goodall enters and I can feel his eyes upon me, on my skin, inside my head. When I risk a glance in his direction, he has a strange smile on his face. It’s like watching a cobra uncoil, and begin to sway.

The judge, a woman in her sixties, is a tall spare figure with fine features, and an explosion of ash-coloured hair. Her dark eyes are magnified behind black-framed glasses that slide up and down her nose when she nods her head.

‘Are you represented here today?’ she asks Alison.

‘No, Your Honour, Your Worship, My Lordship …’

The judge smiles. ‘I’m Justice Rees. You can call me your honour.’

‘My mother is here, your honour, as well as a friend.’

Goodall makes a mocking sound, which the judge doesn’t seem to hear.

Judge Rees glances at her paperwork. ‘You’re making a private application for a DAP notice. Why aren’t the police seeking the order?’

‘I don’t know,’ says Alison. ‘I asked them to—’

Goodall’s lawyer is still standing. ‘If your honour pleases, my name is Bernard Dardenne, I represent Mr Goodall. This matter should never have been listed. It is a vexatious application designed to deny my client access to his children.’

Rees raises a thin hand. ‘You’ll get your chance, Mr Dardenne.’

She addresses Alison. ‘Are you frightened of your husband?’

Alison nods.

‘You’ll have to speak up.’

‘Yes,’ she murmurs.

‘Has he threatened you or your children?’

‘Yes, ma’am.’

‘OK. Let’s hear what you have to say.’

She motions to the witness box. Alison makes her way to the front of the court, stepping onto a raised platform with a single high-backed chair. Having sworn the oath, she takes a seat and produces a piece of paper that looks tattered and damp from perspiration. She tries to read but falters.

‘Maybe if you use your own words,’ suggests the judge.

Alison begins describing the breakdown of her marriage, outlining her husband’s controlling and coercive behaviour; how he would read her text messages and block her friends from calling her. How he refused to let her drive, and gave her a weekly allowance to buy shopping, making her justify how much she spent on every purchase.

‘He wasn’t always like that. I loved him once,’ she whispers. ‘When I put on weight after Chloe was born, he wouldn’t let me eat. But when I tried to look good for him, he accused me of dressing up for other men … of flirting with them.’ She starts and stops and starts again, struggling to get the words out. I think I hear the word ‘ruffles’.

The judge interrupts her. ‘Excuse me, but who or what is ruffles?’

‘Our dog. Darren said she was dangerous, but Ruffles would only bite when she was frightened.’

‘What happened to Ruffles?’

‘I came home and she was gone. Darren said she ran away. Nathan was inconsolable. He’s my little boy.’

Alison wipes her eyes. A box of tissues is found for her.

‘Has your husband ever been physically violent towards you?’ asks the judge.

Alison is about to respond but she catches sight of Goodall and swallows the words.

Judge Rees asks her again. Alison nods, less certain now.

‘Do you have any medical evidence? Doctors’ reports? Hospital admissions?’