500 Miles from You (Scottish Bookshop #3)(84)

“Phone off!” hissed a court clerk, and Lissa immediately passed it on to Roisin.

But she still held on to the idea as she walked slowly up the stained carpet toward the chair with the microphone, where she swore an oath, her hand a little shaky on the faded Bible they offered her. Just think of what happens next, she told herself. Just think about what happens next.

“Can you tell us what happened on the nineteenth of March of this year?” said Roisin.

And slowly, haltingly, Lissa told the story all the way through, even though the man with the razor-cut blond hair stared at her menacingly, as if he could beam malevolence and fury toward her, even as she avoided his gaze. And when Roisin asked her very clearly whether the car slowed down or sped up as it turned the corner, she answered carefully so she could not be misunderstood by the jury, the judge, or anyone else.

“Yes. He sped up.”

“And can you see the driver in this courtroom?”

“Yes. He’s over there in the box.”

The man hissed at her, actually hissed, and was immediately disciplined by the police officer standing to his left. Lissa was suddenly very relieved none of his family was in the room to see her.

“You’re sure.”

“I’m sure.”

“But the car was going quickly,” said the defense lawyer, when it came time for questions. “You can’t have gotten more than a glimpse.”

“He stared straight at me,” said Lissa. “I remember everything about it. I’m a trained A&E nurse. We see a lot of potentially dangerous situations. Sir—he grimaced at me. Just like that. It was him. He drove round the corner, he sped up, and he drove straight toward . . . Kai. He knocked his phone out of his hand, then his body went straight up in the air and landed on the concrete. Then he sped off.”

She took a deep breath.

“That’s what happened.”

The defense lawyer looked at her. A young nurse, calm, clearly telling the truth, who had absolutely no reason to lie and absolutely no reason to be here except for justice. He could sense the waves off the jury of how much they approved of her. He looked at Lissa one last time, glanced at the jury, cast his client a slightly apologetic shrug, and stood back.

“No further questions.”





Chapter 69


Unable to quite believe she was free, Lissa walked slowly down the aisle to leave the courtroom. At the end she caught sight of a face she recognized. Quickly and without ceremony, Mrs. Mitchell, Kai’s mother, nodded briskly.

Lissa felt relieved but chastened: glad that she had managed to do what she needed to do and overwhelmingly guilty because she was feeling happy now, like she was in a position to get on with her life. And Mrs. Mitchell never, ever could. She gave a half smile of apology and regret; but she had to leave, and the court had to carry on with its work, as human misery spilled out from courtroom after courtroom, in town after town.

It felt like a breath of liberty as Lissa pushed through the doors of the sour-smelling courtroom. The security guards were wired and buzzy after the fight that morning, everyone twitchy and tired and stressed.

She headed into the normal bathrooms this time, to reapply a whole face of makeup, and curled her eyelashes right out, something she almost never did. Her eyebrows were a mess, her not trusting Ginty on this issue, but she’d done the best she could, and she added a pretty rose-colored lipstick to her lips and a little blush to her cheeks and let down her hair, then laughed at herself for being so over the top. Then she squirted on some more perfume just in case.

Still nothing on her phone from Cormac. She frowned. Well, it wasn’t far to Borough Market. Maybe he thought court would run later. She’d been surprised how quick it had been, in the end. She’d been a good witness, Roisin had told her, which had felt so good.

Or perhaps he’d be waiting there . . . sitting in the sun. She reminded herself that he might be five feet tall and three feet wide, then wondered how much that would really—really—matter, as much as she looked forward to talking to him, how his messages were the highlight of her day.

The sunshine hit her full in the face, dazzling her. She practically bounced along the south bank, cutting through side streets to avoid the crowds, walking straight past the police station Cormac was currently being held in.





Chapter 70


Cormac sat in the holding cell with two other kids from the courthouse, both of them cursing and swearing.

“We were just there to support Kai,” complained one, whose name was Tim. “Just to show him he isn’t forgotten.”

“By kicking the lumps out of some guy,” said Cormac. “Come on, lads. You must know that isn’t helpful.”

“Are you Scottish?” said Tim. “I thought Scotch folk love kicking lumps out of people.”

“He was doing a good job with Big Al,” pointed out the other boy, who presumably had a name that wasn’t Nobbo, but Nobbo seemed to do.

“So you were,” said Tim.

“I was trying to stop him accidentally really hurting someone. And ending up in prison,” said Cormac.

“We’re in prison now,” said Tim.

“I realize that,” said Cormac.

BOROUGH MARKET WAS absolutely heaving, every stall was rammed. And Lissa didn’t know what he looked like. She glanced around. What kind of thing would Cormac like? She didn’t even know, she realized. She knew so little about him.