Chapter Forty-four
Mel
Isabel appeared unsteady as she approached the witness box, turning to smile at the judge and then the jury. Mel had no idea whether the unsteadiness was authentic or part of today’s role-play, nor how far she could count on her mother.
Isabel’s written statement emphasised the antagonism between her daughter and her guest. There had been a disagreement. The disagreement had led to a scuffle. But Isabel could not say precisely what had caused Natasha to fall with such force against the dressing table. During the long months of waiting, her mother had refused to speak of the incident.
‘I’m not allowed to talk to you, darling. You’ve seen my statement. I’ll do what I’ve been asked to do.’
In the witness box Isabel confirmed that she had looked again at the statement which was prepared last year. Yes, the contents were true.
Digger led her through the events of that day, the outing to the museum, the early return to Dulwich, Mel’s attitude to Natasha, the unexpected outburst.
‘Please describe the outburst, Mrs Goddard.’
‘Melanie was in the house when we returned. She announced that Natasha should leave immediately. Quite out of the blue.’
‘What happened then?’
‘Natasha went upstairs to change.’
‘Did your daughter explain why she wanted Natasha to leave?’
‘Something to do with Natasha being not what she seemed.’
‘In what way?’
‘I don’t recall. It was all very confusing.’
The judge intervened. ‘Mrs Goddard. You cannot be compelled to answer every question. But you were an eyewitness to what occurred that day. Anything you can remember about what preceded the events that led to this charge will be helpful to the jury in reaching its verdict.’
‘I understand, Your Honour.’
‘What did you do next?’ asked Digger.
It was as Mel had anticipated. Digger didn’t want Isabel to divulge too much about the causes of the argument, didn’t want to risk the jury members asking themselves questions about Natasha’s character. Maybe her mother had forgotten the main cause of the clash between the two women. Or maybe, like Mel, she didn’t want Jacob’s name brought into this. Alisha had promised not to mention him. If Mel was to get off, the jury must never know the full story. But as Digger moved on, Mel was aware of a weight in her chest. She had been growing used to a variety of inexplicable symptoms, aching limbs, a fluttering stomach, a tightness in the jaw, pains around the eyes. This one was new, a slow persistent thudding as if her heart had become suddenly heavy.
And now Digger was asking Isabel to describe the spare bedroom.
‘The bed’s on the right as you walk in. There’s a fitted cupboard down one wall, a chest of drawers against the other and a dressing table in front of the bay window.’
‘Did you enter the room?’
‘No. I stood in the doorway.’
‘Where was Miss Baker?’
‘She was standing near the dressing table.’
‘In your statement you mention shoes on the floor.’
‘Yes. Natasha had been trying them on before we went out.’
Mel glanced from her mother to the jury. There was only one point they needed to decide. Did she fall or was she pushed? But Digger wouldn’t ask that. Wouldn’t chance it. He didn’t need to put Natasha’s case to Isabel. She was there to set the scene for the prosecution. No more, no less.
‘You’ve told us you followed your daughter into the room. What was the atmosphere like at that point?’
‘Very unpleasant.’
‘Please explain.’
Isabel paused and looked at Mel. It wasn’t a compassionate look, not a look the jury would expect from a mother to a daughter. And at that moment Mel wished she had been nicer to her mother. She remembered the times she had been irritated by Isabel, had shouted at her, argued with her. She tried to remember what the arguments were about. Nothing important. Isabel’s habit of opting out when discussion became difficult, her insistence that she was too stupid to understand law or politics, her love of the superficial, her obsession with style and celebrity. Once Isabel had accused Mel of trying to make her feel small. Was this it? Isabel’s revenge?
‘I felt frightened.’
‘Why?’
‘Mel was angry. I know what she’s like when she’s angry.’
‘What is she like?’
‘Loud, out of control. Aggressive.’
‘Violent?’
‘She can be.’
Mel felt her throat closing, her breath quickening.
‘Can you describe instances when you have witnessed her violence?’
‘I prefer not to say.’
The jury appeared attentive. Digger fiddled with his spectacles and looked down at his notes, letting the answer sink in, a familiar tactic. Then he raised his head. ‘We’ll come back to that, Mrs Goddard. Can you describe the conversation in the bedroom between Natasha and your daughter?’
‘I wouldn’t call it conversation. More like a row.’
‘What did you hear?’
‘It’s in my statement.’
‘Please tell the jury.’
‘My daughter believed Natasha was planning to steal my jewellery and sell my costumes.’
‘Did you believe Miss Baker would do this?’
‘Certainly not. She and I had been organising an exhibition.’
‘Was there anything else that might have made Melanie angry?’
‘Natasha said something about Jacob. That’s what set Mel off.’
At the sound of her son’s name a shockwave tore through her. As the aftershocks died down, she was conscious once again of the weight in her chest.
‘You haven’t mentioned Jacob in your statement.’
‘I didn’t want him dragged into this. Melanie doesn’t either, I’m sure of that. But I’ve sworn to tell the whole truth.’
‘What did Natasha say about Jacob?’
‘I don’t remember the exact words. Something about him being a good-looking boy.’
‘Why would that make her angry?’
‘It was more than that. Almost as if, you know, Natasha might have had an interest in the lad. That would have upset Melanie. It upset me.’
Mel tried to read her mother’s face. The features were taut; the eyes narrowed in what might have been pain. Physical or emotional? It was impossible to say. The words ‘Please, Mum,’ looped silently in her mind.
‘Is there any other reason why there’s nothing about Jacob in your statement?’
‘After everything that happened, I was distraught. I still am. I didn’t want my grandson bandied about in police statements.’
‘Yet you mention him now.’
‘When the police interviewed me, I answered their questions. They only asked about the jewellery and costumes. But I’ve taken an oath. The whole truth.’
‘Can we go back to the scene in the bedroom? Where was Melanie when you arrived in the doorway?’
‘Close to Natasha. They were both by the dressing table.’
‘How was Natasha’s mood? As far as you could judge?’