‘You have said she just attacked you. Can you think back, Miss Baker – is there anything you said that might have motivated her to do that?’
‘It’s hard to say. Melanie’s on a short fuse. Takes offence easily.’
‘I repeat, Miss Baker: is there anything you said that might have provoked her?’
‘There might’ve been.’
‘You might have said something? Or something you said might have provoked her?’
‘Something I said might have provoked her.’
She turned to Mel who sat in the dock, her expression uncharacteristically blank and hard to read. Then she looked towards the public gallery. Jacob was staring at her, wide-eyed. Mel would have lied to him about what happened that afternoon in his grandmother’s spare room. And at that moment she had an urge to tell the court everything, to cast shame not only on Mel but her self-important son. But any mention of Jacob would be self-defeating. It would give Mel a reason for attacking her, but Natasha would lose what sympathy she had with the jury. She remembered Digger’s words. In a case like this, each person’s word against the other, it could boil down to which of you the jury liked best.
‘Please tell the jury what you said.’
‘She accused me of stealing. I was pretty annoyed. I was only trying to help her mother. I guess I bit back. I think I called her a cheat and a liar.’
‘This is not in your statement.’
‘No. It’s not.’
He was not expecting this, but Natasha trusted him to deal with it. She knew the rule for advocates. Never ask a question when you don’t know the answer. But sometimes you need to break the rule. Digger was about to ask several such questions.
‘Why is that?’
‘I didn’t want to upset people. There are others involved.’
‘Please explain, Miss Baker.’
‘It’s a private thing.’
‘Private for you?’
‘No, private for Mel. There are people who’ll be hurt by what she’s done.’
The jury was transfixed. Natasha was beginning to enjoy this.
‘The thing is, she was having an affair. With a married man.’
‘How did you know?’
‘I read an email from her lover.’
Sell your story to the jury, Digger had said. Well, she was selling it.
‘Why did you read the email, Miss Baker?’
‘Melanie had forgotten to log off one of the computers in chambers. She rang me on her way home to ask me to do it for her. She also wanted me to print off an Attendance Note. When I rebooted the computer, it was open on an email. I didn’t mean to read it, but I saw a few words before I shut it down. The words were, well, you know… suggestive.’
‘How did you know the writer was a married man?’
‘I recognised the address.’
‘How was that?’
‘It was one of the lecturers at North Bank University. North Bank was my university, so it jumped out at me.’
‘Please go on.’
‘I knew the guy. He was one of my tutors. Listen, I should have ignored it, shouldn’t have said anything. It was private stuff. Only when she accused me of being a thief, I just snapped. I regret it now. I wish I’d kept cool. She wouldn’t have lashed out. I wouldn’t have this scar.’
‘It may be put to you that you started this. That you rushed at her, you wanted to hurt her. What would you say to that?’
‘No way.’
‘You agree that there were angry words.’
‘Yes.’
‘Miss Goddard states that she didn’t hurt you in any way. She says that she only touched you in self-defence.’
‘She grabbed me and threw me against the dressing table. You saw the medical report.’
‘She will say that in fact you charged at her, she held up a hand to protect herself and you slipped and fell. Is there any truth in that?’
‘Absolutely not. I didn’t move. I was just standing there. I accused her of the affair. I may have mentioned his name. Paul Freedman.’ There were faces Natasha recognised in the public gallery. Members of chambers. Other barristers. Let them see their esteemed colleague in a different light. Word would spread quickly on social media. And wasn’t that a reporter tapping furiously on a laptop on the press bench? ‘OK, it was provocative. I expected her to argue. I didn’t expect her to respond like that. It was terrifying. She looked like she wanted to kill me.’
Natasha turned from the jury towards Mel who sat facing the court room behind the glass panel of the dock. Her hitherto inscrutable expression betrayed a hint of emotion, a tiny tremble around the mouth as she lowered her eyes from the courtroom to the shelf in front of her. She was holding a pen or pencil and bent forward to write something on a notepad. Natasha knew Mel well enough to be sure she would be churning inside at the public mention of Paul’s name. Good. Whatever decision the jury took, at least Mel was suffering now.
Her glance shifted to Jacob. He was staring at her with the hard aggression of an aggrieved young man. Natasha suspected he had no idea how lucky he was not to have his own character ripped to shreds in court. His hostility burnt through her and she felt her anger rise. So far he had not been mentioned. But Alisha was bound to put a few background questions: the reference request, the trip to Dulwich. What if Natasha told the court that Jacob had been present that day? What if she put a different spin on his behaviour? What if she told the court that he had tried to kiss her outsider the gallery? That she had told Mel as much. Telling Mel would have given her another reason to lose her rag. After the way Jacob had turned on Natasha outside the gallery, the way he had tried to outface her just now in the restaurant, it would be good to see him squirm. If asked why she was mentioning it at this late stage she would say she was just trying to spare the boy.
‘Thank you, Miss Baker. I have no further questions. If you would just wait there.’
Judge McDermid broke in. They would adjourn for the evening. Miss Baker needed a rest. She must remember she was still on oath and should not speak to anyone about her evidence, not even her partner Luke Gearing who was due to give evidence tomorrow. Digger reminded the judge that Miss Baker lived with Mr Gearing.
‘My order is unchanged. They may speak of course. But not about the case.’
‘I’m grateful, Your Honour.’
‘The hearing will resume at ten a.m. tomorrow morning.’
Chapter Forty
Natasha
Luke was in the lobby outside the court. He wanted to know everything.
‘I’m still on oath,’ she said. ‘Can’t speak to you.’
‘Not at all?’
‘Not about the case. Don’t worry. I’ll tell you everything later. Let’s get out. I need some air.’
They made their way down the stairs to the automatic doors, stepping out onto the pavement and the fading afternoon light.
‘We’ll get a taxi,’ said Luke.
‘I don’t mind the bus. I’ve still got 5,000 steps to do.’
‘Can’t you give it a rest? Only two weeks to go.’
‘I’m not going to become one of those great flabby women. You’ll see; I’ll be super fit.’