Part Twenty Six
"Last round, everybody," Karen called out to the others."We've got twenty minutes before the start of court."
Yvonne, Lauren, Cassie and Roisin naturally accepted Karen's easy authority, as she was the organised one. With a few too many drinks inside her, Roisin tended to cuddle up close to Cassie, no matter what the company while, in turn, Cassie became the life and soul of the party with a very defective internal clock. Lauren and Yvonne had been preoccupied in dissecting the faults of the piss artists who propped up the bar and had let that conversation carry them away. Karen could engage in a couple of conversations at the same time but her instinct of time never let her down.
She and Yvonne had been reminiscing about what could almost be called the 'good old days' at Larkhall as time and alcohol had blurred the hard edges leaving the funnier moments in sharp focus.
"So you're the one who planned the Larkhall Tabernackle Choir, Yvonne?" Karen laughed."Helen Stewart bent my ear about that one when I first came to Larkhall telling me that you were someone that needed watching. And she was right."
Yvonne warmed to Karen's free and easy laugh at that golden moment and the look in her eye.
It might as well be a Christmas social with the POs, Karen thought, except that she was in much more enjoyable company. At these socials, with the heavy preponderance of men, inevitably the conversation turned towards football. Karen had developed the art to a nicety in making minimal contributions to such conversations to not reveal her total ignorance of the game and had persuaded herself that what she was doing was worthwhile to grease the wheels of the engine of sociability that kept the Prison Officers united. It was her job.
This was a much different situation here that she actively sparkled and thrived in the pleasure of a lively five-way conversation. She was in a conversation of equals with each woman lending her coloration to the warm glow of the collective company.
"OK Karen, since you're in charge," Yvonne called out, raising her glass in the air. "As you're buying, then it's a vodka and lemonade."
"Same for me, Karen." A slightly drunken Cassie temporarily detached herself from Roisin's arm round her. "Come on, I'll give you a hand."
Karen smiled, conscious that the grey downward slide on her own into the depression and loneliness of the night before was banished into the unwanted past by present good company all around her. As she delicately perched two glasses between her fingers with a practiced hold, Yvonne's smile caught her eye and she knew that she shared that feeling of contentment. Cassie carried the two drinks back to the table where her knees bumped up against Roisin's and they curled themselves round each other again. Lauren rather pointedly looked the other way as, being on the outside of Larkhall, all this was new to her except from that night she drank Cassie under the table at some gay bar or other and had to carry a legless woman home. However, she'd done that before many a time on a 'girl's night out' so what else was new?
"Ain't they sweet, Karen?" Yvonne asked with a twinkle in her eye. She was referring to Cassie and Roisin who were now oblivious to everything.
Karen nodded and smiled at this point as the vision of Yvonne last night came back into her mind.And it wasn't the background pub noises and any forced conviviality that made the lunchtime very special for her.
"Come on, lets get moving, everyone." Karen smiled.
The sounds of their heels clattered along the stone flagged foyer, and they smiled at Jo Mills in passing as she prepared for an apparently uneventful afternoon, cross examining a minor witness. They took the left hand turn, up the ancient mahogany flight of stairs, past a couple of spare rooms and waited for the theatrics to begin.
"Mr Ajit Khan, can you describe your present occupation."She addressed the very tall man with smooth manners. Despite his name, his accent blended in amongst the Middle England tones of his clientele and his complexion was only a shade darker than the average salesman in the area was. His smooth cut suit was as suave as his manners.
"I work self employed installing household home security. This involves installing an electrical alarm system which is supplied to me and fitting anti burglar devises to doors and windows to make sure that everything in the house is made secure. You can't be too careful with all the break ins these days. My company is Homesafe Alarms. I pride myself in being the the best in my line. The work is very lucrative. I work door to door."
"And how did you come to be present at the Larkhall Prison open day." Jo Mills asked.
"I happened to be invited to the Masonic meeting that one of His Majesty's Prison Larkhall's Prison Officers addressed, a Mr James Fenner. He persuaded me to sign up for the 'Adopt a Prisoner' scheme. I thought that while I had been working to make the houses of England safe from burglars, anything that my small efforts could deliver would be worthwhile."
"The randy bastard," Yvonne whispered under her breath to Karen." The bored housewife gets a lot of 'after sales service' from fellas like him." She knew that his cross-examination was going to feature her shag with him. She looked intently at the smooth man in the witness stand and the past image of Yvonne Atkins that his presence reflected. At that time she had schemed for the rare chance to temporarily satiate her permanently unsatisfied sexual lust. This was a permanent memory of life behind bars at Larkhall. The Yvonne Atkins of the present was a bit out of sync with the replay of these memories, especially in recent days. Karen nodded without comment, as if in understanding of the accepted social commonplace.
"I understand that you were present at the open day. Were you present throughout the proceedings right up to the explosion?" Jo Mills asked.
"No I was not"
"And at about what time did you leave the exhibition, Mr Khan, and where did you go to?"
"I can't remember the exact time but about an hour before the explosion. I heard a rap song that three of the ladies performed at the exhibition and, shortly afterwards, Yvonne Atkins invited me to a side room to be somewhere more private. I followed her and the room looked like a chapel with this crucifix on the table. We ended up shagging."
"Mr Khan, can you explain this after having been only briefly acquainted with Mrs Atkins" Jo Mills asked, knowing full well that if she didn't ask the question, George Channing certainly would. George was eyeing the man up with a curious expression on her face of apparent disgust which did not quite ring true. John Deed concentrated his stare at George, hoping that telepathy would convey to her a red warning light that she had reached the limits of his tolerance. Unfortunately, telepathy had never worked in their marriage so why should it suddenly start working in their professional life?
"Yvonne Atkins is a very attractive woman. How could I resist such a woman?" Came the appeal with outstretched hands in John Deed's direction to which he nodded."What else can I say?"
"And were you interrupted while this was taking place and what was the nature of this interruption." Jo Mills asked, wanting to skip to the essentials.
"The phone on the table rang. I wanted to ignore it but Mrs Atkins insisted that I answer the phone. She told me to pretend to be the reverend and to fob the caller off."
"And what did the caller say. Be exact in your answer."
"I can remember distinctly a male voice saying 'Sorry to bother you. Is Snowball Merriman there?'"
"And what happened next"
"I repeated the name 'Snowball Merriman' to Mrs Atkins and then she grabbed the phone off me and cut the caller off. Mrs Atkins insisted that I get out of the room and mingle with the rest of the visitors while she stayed in the room on her own. I went out of Larkhall with the rest of the guests. That was the last that I saw of her that day."
George moved into position with the curious combination of understated sexual allure and as much implicit power dressing as the formalities of her trade as a barrister permitted.
"Mr Khan" her aristocratic tones climbed and dived down the scales patronising the man as much as she could."Do you normally make a habit of seducing women that you are offering your services to?"
"Like I say, I run a very lucrative business. I can afford to live in some luxury." Mr Khan's smooth voice locked horns with George's.
"I'll bet. Let me put it this way. What sort of clientele do you visit in their homes."
"Well, you know, the rich lonely housewives in the suburbs. They're concerned about the security of their homes. They have to be well off to afford my services." Ajit Khan came back at George, unabashed and smug.
"And in the extras that you charge for, does the after sales service include the granting of sexual favours in return for a fifteen per cent markup on the bill."
"Quite often," Mr Khan's smug smile extended itself a second time round his face. "There are plenty of sex starved women who can't get it off their husbands. Only my charges come at twenty five per cent if you're interested at any time." Mr Khan's smile verged on a leer in George's direction.
"We are talking about your sleasy livelihood,Mr Khan, not myself." George snapped bitchily at him.
Jo Mills hid her smile behind her hand. The superbitch is letting it all show for all to see. The last two words are a real giveaway of the relationship between her and her Cabinet Minister. At least Mr Khan is an honest male tart and doesn't hide under false colours
"And does your lavish lifestyle support just yourself or is there anyone that your very lucrative enterprise is supporting." George asked maliciously, fully expecting this man to be the type to have a wife and children and to be screwing around on the side.
"My sister," Mr Khan said shortly and simply."Our father chucked her out when she got pregnant and I am keeping her. I am Asian enough to remember that in my culture, that members of the family support each other, something that your culture has forgotten." His accent became less smooth and silky and a trace of the terse chopped Indian accent emerged from underneath his Anglicised veneer.
."So, Mr Khan, when you sneaked away with Mrs Atkins, would it be true to say that you are doing no more than you normally do with the many women who pass through your hands. I put it to you that your word cannot be depended on any more an anyone in your profession who makes a career of telling women what they want to hear." George let the more vicious side of her have full sway.
"Except that I never took any money from Mrs Atkins. She was far better than the overweight housewives who come my way. Mrs Atkins is hot stuff, let me tell you. I don't have to pretend to her."
"My lord." Jo Mill's cool voice broke in on the confrontation."This cross examination is turning into an interrogation as to Mr Khan's sexual morals and I fail to see the relevance of such questioning."
"Quite," John Deed intervened. He had wanted to give George a generous length of rope to thoroughly hang herself and was acutely conscious of the prospect of being harangued at length at the next social function."I must direct you, Ms Channing, to ensure that your examination of the witness sticks to the point. This is after all not the Victorian age."
"My lord, I must protest at the continual interference in the legitimate processes of my cross examination of witnesses in this trial. The man is nothing more than a male gigolo and his 'company' is a mere front for his sleazier activities. It's totally obvious. One look at him and you can tell the type." snapped George Channing in her best carrying voice.
"You surely cannot claim to possess any hard evidence or expertise to back up your last assertion. Ms Channing?" John Deed's droll tones cut through the silence. He knew he ought to restrain himself but always gave way to temptation, the story of his life. "Otherwise, I must indicate to the jury, my preference for direct evidence from Mr Khan over your mere speculation."
The five women at the front of the gallery erupted into laughter at this point causing George's face to redden in anger and lose all self restraint.
"A fine one you are for lecturing me about morals, John Deed. Ever since I have first known you and married you once, there have been an endless disreputable array of blond tarts trooping in and out of your bed. God knows what I have had to put up with over the years. You are a disgrace to the judiciary of the country both in your personal and professional life and as for your latest piece of skirt who is……….."
John Deed stood up from the judge's chair and finally exploded.
"Silence, Ms Channing. You have gone too far and have reduced the dignity of the court
proceedings to a common street brawl. I hold you in contempt of court and I sentence you to be confined in a cell immediately until as such time as you have purged your contempt to my complete and total satisfaction. Perhaps by this extreme action you will be finally persuaded to keep yourself in check as all my persuasions throughout the progress of this trial have been in vain. I hereby adjourn the court proceedings . I insist that all parties to the court proceedings remain behind until I am able to decide whether or not this court session can resume in the time remaining to us. Anyone who flouts my authority on this point will be subpoenaed. Can Ms Channing be escorted down to the cell by the ushers or do I have to call on the nearest constabulary to enforce this order… Perhaps a night in the local remand prison would make her more contrite."
John Deed's voice thundered like an Olympic God down from on high and reverberated round the huge court chamber, setting off a slight secondary high pitched reverberation from the overhead lights. All were dumbstruck by the erupting volcano of verbal fury that erupted and poured down over the court like molten lava. His final parting shot in a malevolent grumble was the final more muted last aftershock
"John, you can't do this," George Channing called out, incredulous as two ushers moved forward and secured their hold on each arm.
"Can't I? I just have."John Deed replied with grim purpose.
"I ask for the forbearance of those in the public gallery who are not compelled to remain behind to also respect the dignity of the court, and myself, by refraining from uttering a word at least within the court chamber. There is a quiet room available for your use until this court session is decided." John Deed's melodious tones rolled up to them like honey. All the five sharp eyed women immediately spotted the slight smile on John Deed's lips and the very noticeable twinkle in his eye.
"Come on, you guys. Better do like the judge said." Karen said quietly though all of them were bottling up an irrepressible urge to fall about laughing. They started to stumble up the staircase, seeing a convenient room leading off the corridor.
"About frigging time," Lauren replied."I've been gasping for a cigarette, I'll pop across to the nearest newsagent and get a couple of packets to share. Right, yeah?" and Lauren legged it up the flight of steps in record time ahead of the others.
"Daddy, I'm in a cell, again." George's brusque voice from her mobile resounded in the earpiece of the old fashioned phone of her father as he was dozing off in his armchair with an empty glass of port on a side table.
"What, again," rumbled the actorish voice. " I assume that it is Deed who has done this. You will have no option. You will have to grovel unashamedly this time."
"But Daddy," wailed the disconsolate voice."The cell is so beastly squalid and cold."
"The sooner you grovel, the sooner you are out. You can't afford to throw aside your fee with your expensive tastes." The rumbling voice hit George's weak spot and he put the phone down.
"She was always argumentative as a child and she's got no better. Wonder where she gets it from, I don't know, this modern generation. We weren't like that at their age ……….." The voice rumbled away into a monologue which gradually wound down by itself like a clockwork toy.
"Well well well, this is becoming a regular rendezvous for reprobate barristers and corrupt officials of the Lord Chancellor's Department" John Deed's amused tones broke in on George's thoughts.
"You have done this to totally humiliate me. I shall never ever forgive your boorishness." George exploded, her pent up fury making her miss the sense of John Deed's remark.
"What did you mean by regular rendez-vouz? You mean you make a habit of this reprehensible sense of humour."
"This is no joke, George, as you may find out to your cost." John Deed's firm tones and a determined look in his eye sent a chill down George's spine. Anyone but this impossible man wouldn't stick this one out but John Deed had always been unpredictable.
"I want you to abjectly and unreservedly and humbly apologise . And mean it."
"I'll see you in hell first." George flared up at him.
"I'll see you, Georgia Channing through the prison bars at visiting time in the next week or so if you don't watch your step." John Deed insisted relentlessly.
"Oh God you are an impossible man." George blustered.
"Yes, that is what first attracted you to me. Don't you remember." John Deed teased."Come on, repeat after me, Lawrence James was able to say it so why not you?"
George spluttered with a mixture of rage and incredulity, trying to imagine that pompous man Lawrence James apologising for anything.
"I….I….unreservedly…unreservedly….. and…and…. humbly…… humbly….." the litany was dragged out of George's mouth bit by bit like a very painful dental extraction.
"There you are, it wasn't that painful, dear." John Deed smiled with that infuriating charm that maddened George more than anything. Accustomed as she was to dangling men from a fingernail or trampling on them, she found it acutely painful to being similarly suspended so painfully from John Deed's mischievous fingers. She brushed the dust off her elegant gown and made her way to the accustomed daylight of the court and gestured politely to the usher so that court could go back into session.
"Last round, everybody," Karen called out to the others."We've got twenty minutes before the start of court."
Yvonne, Lauren, Cassie and Roisin naturally accepted Karen's easy authority, as she was the organised one. With a few too many drinks inside her, Roisin tended to cuddle up close to Cassie, no matter what the company while, in turn, Cassie became the life and soul of the party with a very defective internal clock. Lauren and Yvonne had been preoccupied in dissecting the faults of the piss artists who propped up the bar and had let that conversation carry them away. Karen could engage in a couple of conversations at the same time but her instinct of time never let her down.
She and Yvonne had been reminiscing about what could almost be called the 'good old days' at Larkhall as time and alcohol had blurred the hard edges leaving the funnier moments in sharp focus.
"So you're the one who planned the Larkhall Tabernackle Choir, Yvonne?" Karen laughed."Helen Stewart bent my ear about that one when I first came to Larkhall telling me that you were someone that needed watching. And she was right."
Yvonne warmed to Karen's free and easy laugh at that golden moment and the look in her eye.
It might as well be a Christmas social with the POs, Karen thought, except that she was in much more enjoyable company. At these socials, with the heavy preponderance of men, inevitably the conversation turned towards football. Karen had developed the art to a nicety in making minimal contributions to such conversations to not reveal her total ignorance of the game and had persuaded herself that what she was doing was worthwhile to grease the wheels of the engine of sociability that kept the Prison Officers united. It was her job.
This was a much different situation here that she actively sparkled and thrived in the pleasure of a lively five-way conversation. She was in a conversation of equals with each woman lending her coloration to the warm glow of the collective company.
"OK Karen, since you're in charge," Yvonne called out, raising her glass in the air. "As you're buying, then it's a vodka and lemonade."
"Same for me, Karen." A slightly drunken Cassie temporarily detached herself from Roisin's arm round her. "Come on, I'll give you a hand."
Karen smiled, conscious that the grey downward slide on her own into the depression and loneliness of the night before was banished into the unwanted past by present good company all around her. As she delicately perched two glasses between her fingers with a practiced hold, Yvonne's smile caught her eye and she knew that she shared that feeling of contentment. Cassie carried the two drinks back to the table where her knees bumped up against Roisin's and they curled themselves round each other again. Lauren rather pointedly looked the other way as, being on the outside of Larkhall, all this was new to her except from that night she drank Cassie under the table at some gay bar or other and had to carry a legless woman home. However, she'd done that before many a time on a 'girl's night out' so what else was new?
"Ain't they sweet, Karen?" Yvonne asked with a twinkle in her eye. She was referring to Cassie and Roisin who were now oblivious to everything.
Karen nodded and smiled at this point as the vision of Yvonne last night came back into her mind.And it wasn't the background pub noises and any forced conviviality that made the lunchtime very special for her.
"Come on, lets get moving, everyone." Karen smiled.
The sounds of their heels clattered along the stone flagged foyer, and they smiled at Jo Mills in passing as she prepared for an apparently uneventful afternoon, cross examining a minor witness. They took the left hand turn, up the ancient mahogany flight of stairs, past a couple of spare rooms and waited for the theatrics to begin.
"Mr Ajit Khan, can you describe your present occupation."She addressed the very tall man with smooth manners. Despite his name, his accent blended in amongst the Middle England tones of his clientele and his complexion was only a shade darker than the average salesman in the area was. His smooth cut suit was as suave as his manners.
"I work self employed installing household home security. This involves installing an electrical alarm system which is supplied to me and fitting anti burglar devises to doors and windows to make sure that everything in the house is made secure. You can't be too careful with all the break ins these days. My company is Homesafe Alarms. I pride myself in being the the best in my line. The work is very lucrative. I work door to door."
"And how did you come to be present at the Larkhall Prison open day." Jo Mills asked.
"I happened to be invited to the Masonic meeting that one of His Majesty's Prison Larkhall's Prison Officers addressed, a Mr James Fenner. He persuaded me to sign up for the 'Adopt a Prisoner' scheme. I thought that while I had been working to make the houses of England safe from burglars, anything that my small efforts could deliver would be worthwhile."
"The randy bastard," Yvonne whispered under her breath to Karen." The bored housewife gets a lot of 'after sales service' from fellas like him." She knew that his cross-examination was going to feature her shag with him. She looked intently at the smooth man in the witness stand and the past image of Yvonne Atkins that his presence reflected. At that time she had schemed for the rare chance to temporarily satiate her permanently unsatisfied sexual lust. This was a permanent memory of life behind bars at Larkhall. The Yvonne Atkins of the present was a bit out of sync with the replay of these memories, especially in recent days. Karen nodded without comment, as if in understanding of the accepted social commonplace.
"I understand that you were present at the open day. Were you present throughout the proceedings right up to the explosion?" Jo Mills asked.
"No I was not"
"And at about what time did you leave the exhibition, Mr Khan, and where did you go to?"
"I can't remember the exact time but about an hour before the explosion. I heard a rap song that three of the ladies performed at the exhibition and, shortly afterwards, Yvonne Atkins invited me to a side room to be somewhere more private. I followed her and the room looked like a chapel with this crucifix on the table. We ended up shagging."
"Mr Khan, can you explain this after having been only briefly acquainted with Mrs Atkins" Jo Mills asked, knowing full well that if she didn't ask the question, George Channing certainly would. George was eyeing the man up with a curious expression on her face of apparent disgust which did not quite ring true. John Deed concentrated his stare at George, hoping that telepathy would convey to her a red warning light that she had reached the limits of his tolerance. Unfortunately, telepathy had never worked in their marriage so why should it suddenly start working in their professional life?
"Yvonne Atkins is a very attractive woman. How could I resist such a woman?" Came the appeal with outstretched hands in John Deed's direction to which he nodded."What else can I say?"
"And were you interrupted while this was taking place and what was the nature of this interruption." Jo Mills asked, wanting to skip to the essentials.
"The phone on the table rang. I wanted to ignore it but Mrs Atkins insisted that I answer the phone. She told me to pretend to be the reverend and to fob the caller off."
"And what did the caller say. Be exact in your answer."
"I can remember distinctly a male voice saying 'Sorry to bother you. Is Snowball Merriman there?'"
"And what happened next"
"I repeated the name 'Snowball Merriman' to Mrs Atkins and then she grabbed the phone off me and cut the caller off. Mrs Atkins insisted that I get out of the room and mingle with the rest of the visitors while she stayed in the room on her own. I went out of Larkhall with the rest of the guests. That was the last that I saw of her that day."
George moved into position with the curious combination of understated sexual allure and as much implicit power dressing as the formalities of her trade as a barrister permitted.
"Mr Khan" her aristocratic tones climbed and dived down the scales patronising the man as much as she could."Do you normally make a habit of seducing women that you are offering your services to?"
"Like I say, I run a very lucrative business. I can afford to live in some luxury." Mr Khan's smooth voice locked horns with George's.
"I'll bet. Let me put it this way. What sort of clientele do you visit in their homes."
"Well, you know, the rich lonely housewives in the suburbs. They're concerned about the security of their homes. They have to be well off to afford my services." Ajit Khan came back at George, unabashed and smug.
"And in the extras that you charge for, does the after sales service include the granting of sexual favours in return for a fifteen per cent markup on the bill."
"Quite often," Mr Khan's smug smile extended itself a second time round his face. "There are plenty of sex starved women who can't get it off their husbands. Only my charges come at twenty five per cent if you're interested at any time." Mr Khan's smile verged on a leer in George's direction.
"We are talking about your sleasy livelihood,Mr Khan, not myself." George snapped bitchily at him.
Jo Mills hid her smile behind her hand. The superbitch is letting it all show for all to see. The last two words are a real giveaway of the relationship between her and her Cabinet Minister. At least Mr Khan is an honest male tart and doesn't hide under false colours
"And does your lavish lifestyle support just yourself or is there anyone that your very lucrative enterprise is supporting." George asked maliciously, fully expecting this man to be the type to have a wife and children and to be screwing around on the side.
"My sister," Mr Khan said shortly and simply."Our father chucked her out when she got pregnant and I am keeping her. I am Asian enough to remember that in my culture, that members of the family support each other, something that your culture has forgotten." His accent became less smooth and silky and a trace of the terse chopped Indian accent emerged from underneath his Anglicised veneer.
."So, Mr Khan, when you sneaked away with Mrs Atkins, would it be true to say that you are doing no more than you normally do with the many women who pass through your hands. I put it to you that your word cannot be depended on any more an anyone in your profession who makes a career of telling women what they want to hear." George let the more vicious side of her have full sway.
"Except that I never took any money from Mrs Atkins. She was far better than the overweight housewives who come my way. Mrs Atkins is hot stuff, let me tell you. I don't have to pretend to her."
"My lord." Jo Mill's cool voice broke in on the confrontation."This cross examination is turning into an interrogation as to Mr Khan's sexual morals and I fail to see the relevance of such questioning."
"Quite," John Deed intervened. He had wanted to give George a generous length of rope to thoroughly hang herself and was acutely conscious of the prospect of being harangued at length at the next social function."I must direct you, Ms Channing, to ensure that your examination of the witness sticks to the point. This is after all not the Victorian age."
"My lord, I must protest at the continual interference in the legitimate processes of my cross examination of witnesses in this trial. The man is nothing more than a male gigolo and his 'company' is a mere front for his sleazier activities. It's totally obvious. One look at him and you can tell the type." snapped George Channing in her best carrying voice.
"You surely cannot claim to possess any hard evidence or expertise to back up your last assertion. Ms Channing?" John Deed's droll tones cut through the silence. He knew he ought to restrain himself but always gave way to temptation, the story of his life. "Otherwise, I must indicate to the jury, my preference for direct evidence from Mr Khan over your mere speculation."
The five women at the front of the gallery erupted into laughter at this point causing George's face to redden in anger and lose all self restraint.
"A fine one you are for lecturing me about morals, John Deed. Ever since I have first known you and married you once, there have been an endless disreputable array of blond tarts trooping in and out of your bed. God knows what I have had to put up with over the years. You are a disgrace to the judiciary of the country both in your personal and professional life and as for your latest piece of skirt who is……….."
John Deed stood up from the judge's chair and finally exploded.
"Silence, Ms Channing. You have gone too far and have reduced the dignity of the court
proceedings to a common street brawl. I hold you in contempt of court and I sentence you to be confined in a cell immediately until as such time as you have purged your contempt to my complete and total satisfaction. Perhaps by this extreme action you will be finally persuaded to keep yourself in check as all my persuasions throughout the progress of this trial have been in vain. I hereby adjourn the court proceedings . I insist that all parties to the court proceedings remain behind until I am able to decide whether or not this court session can resume in the time remaining to us. Anyone who flouts my authority on this point will be subpoenaed. Can Ms Channing be escorted down to the cell by the ushers or do I have to call on the nearest constabulary to enforce this order… Perhaps a night in the local remand prison would make her more contrite."
John Deed's voice thundered like an Olympic God down from on high and reverberated round the huge court chamber, setting off a slight secondary high pitched reverberation from the overhead lights. All were dumbstruck by the erupting volcano of verbal fury that erupted and poured down over the court like molten lava. His final parting shot in a malevolent grumble was the final more muted last aftershock
"John, you can't do this," George Channing called out, incredulous as two ushers moved forward and secured their hold on each arm.
"Can't I? I just have."John Deed replied with grim purpose.
"I ask for the forbearance of those in the public gallery who are not compelled to remain behind to also respect the dignity of the court, and myself, by refraining from uttering a word at least within the court chamber. There is a quiet room available for your use until this court session is decided." John Deed's melodious tones rolled up to them like honey. All the five sharp eyed women immediately spotted the slight smile on John Deed's lips and the very noticeable twinkle in his eye.
"Come on, you guys. Better do like the judge said." Karen said quietly though all of them were bottling up an irrepressible urge to fall about laughing. They started to stumble up the staircase, seeing a convenient room leading off the corridor.
"About frigging time," Lauren replied."I've been gasping for a cigarette, I'll pop across to the nearest newsagent and get a couple of packets to share. Right, yeah?" and Lauren legged it up the flight of steps in record time ahead of the others.
"Daddy, I'm in a cell, again." George's brusque voice from her mobile resounded in the earpiece of the old fashioned phone of her father as he was dozing off in his armchair with an empty glass of port on a side table.
"What, again," rumbled the actorish voice. " I assume that it is Deed who has done this. You will have no option. You will have to grovel unashamedly this time."
"But Daddy," wailed the disconsolate voice."The cell is so beastly squalid and cold."
"The sooner you grovel, the sooner you are out. You can't afford to throw aside your fee with your expensive tastes." The rumbling voice hit George's weak spot and he put the phone down.
"She was always argumentative as a child and she's got no better. Wonder where she gets it from, I don't know, this modern generation. We weren't like that at their age ……….." The voice rumbled away into a monologue which gradually wound down by itself like a clockwork toy.
"Well well well, this is becoming a regular rendezvous for reprobate barristers and corrupt officials of the Lord Chancellor's Department" John Deed's amused tones broke in on George's thoughts.
"You have done this to totally humiliate me. I shall never ever forgive your boorishness." George exploded, her pent up fury making her miss the sense of John Deed's remark.
"What did you mean by regular rendez-vouz? You mean you make a habit of this reprehensible sense of humour."
"This is no joke, George, as you may find out to your cost." John Deed's firm tones and a determined look in his eye sent a chill down George's spine. Anyone but this impossible man wouldn't stick this one out but John Deed had always been unpredictable.
"I want you to abjectly and unreservedly and humbly apologise . And mean it."
"I'll see you in hell first." George flared up at him.
"I'll see you, Georgia Channing through the prison bars at visiting time in the next week or so if you don't watch your step." John Deed insisted relentlessly.
"Oh God you are an impossible man." George blustered.
"Yes, that is what first attracted you to me. Don't you remember." John Deed teased."Come on, repeat after me, Lawrence James was able to say it so why not you?"
George spluttered with a mixture of rage and incredulity, trying to imagine that pompous man Lawrence James apologising for anything.
"I….I….unreservedly…unreservedly….. and…and…. humbly…… humbly….." the litany was dragged out of George's mouth bit by bit like a very painful dental extraction.
"There you are, it wasn't that painful, dear." John Deed smiled with that infuriating charm that maddened George more than anything. Accustomed as she was to dangling men from a fingernail or trampling on them, she found it acutely painful to being similarly suspended so painfully from John Deed's mischievous fingers. She brushed the dust off her elegant gown and made her way to the accustomed daylight of the court and gestured politely to the usher so that court could go back into session.