Part Eighty Seven
On the Monday morning, three days after Karen's meeting with George, John found himself walking through the foyer of the Old Bailey, on his way to buy a newspaper, when he caught sight of George pushing her way through the main doors, a collection of files under her arm. Today was the beginning of a pretrial hearing with her as the defence and Neumann Mason-Alan as prosecutor, someone who George and John for that matter had always despised. He had a reputation for leading the witnesses at every opportunity and of introducing the flimsiest of evidence. As George strode towards John, one of the files slipped from under her arm, scattering its contents far and wide. Taking one look at her face, John was briefly reminded of the time when a three-year-old Charlie had spilt Ribena all over George's favourite cream suit jacket. Instead of cursing the file and its contents to high heaven, she simply stood, closed her eyes for a moment, and took in a slow, deep breath. As she began to pick up the far flung papers, John went to her assistance. Knowing from passed experiences that it was better to let her calm down in her own time, he didn't say a word.
"Thank you," She said, when all the stray documents had been reassembled. "I swear this is the last straw."
"Why?" He asked tentatively, feeling that the rant was about to emerge.
"First, I overslept. Then, the stupid car wouldn't start, and you know what it's like trying to find a cab at this time of the morning. So, I had to get the tube, where I had to stand pressed up against a disgusting old man who kept leering at me." John grinned.
"I'm not surprised," He said, reaching forward to do up the top two buttons of her blouse. "I bet he thought it was his lucky day." George looked down, at his all too familiar hand, hiding away the stunning exhibition of her utterly enchanting breasts encased in cream lace.
"Oh, no," She groaned. "Trust you to be the one to see that."
"You should learn to get up in the morning, then you wouldn't have this problem," He said, clearly flirting with her.
"Perhaps the only advantage of living with either you or Neil," George replied scathingly, "Is that you are both insufferably cheerful first thing in the morning, so you force me to get up out of pure irritation." John grimaced.
"I don't want to have anything in common with that loathsome individual."
"Who's prosecuting today?" Asked George, changing the topic of conversation. "Because whoever it is had better be ready for my wrath."
"Well, just remember that court is not the place to work off your anger. Neumann Mason-Alan is prosecuting, so I'm sure you'll give him a bumpy ride."
"You're quite bloody right I will. He's the most pathetic barrister I think I've ever been up against."
A while later when the three of them were going over the evidence in order for John to decide what was admissible and what wasn't, George could feel the slow, inexorable rise of her temper. It hadn't entirely subsided since her fraught journey to work, but this jumped up, pathetic upstart of a man was really beginning to get on her nerves. He usually did criminal work, and was persisting in his quest to get most of her evidence discounted on the grounds that it was hearsay.
"My Lord," George intoned, her anger becoming palpable. "As I have stated in this very court many times before, there are grounds within the rules and legislation of civil procedure, that do allow for the submission and use of what some may class as hearsay evidence."
"I am well aware of that, Ms Channing, but the interpretation of civil procedure may only be taken so far."
"My Lord, such an assertion is utterly preposterous. If my learned friend here were not so used to the rules governing criminal evidence and procedure, and had taken the time to make himself even slightly aware of the relevant statutes governing civil procedure, he would not now be objecting to the evidence I am seeking to submit." Neuman Mason-Alan gritted his teeth but remained silent in the face of such a wild card as his current adversary. He was aware of the past between Georgia Channing and John Deed, and couldn't for the life of him see what they must once have had in common.
"Ms Channing, I am finding in favour of the prosecution."
"But My Lord..."
"You know better than to interrupt me, Ms Channing. I am finding in favour of the prosecution, because I would cast serious doubt as to the actual, genuine existence of the ludicrously flimsy evidence you are seeking to submit."
"My Lord, surely this is precisely the nature of hearsay evidence."
"That's debatable and you know it."
"I would argue that it is, My Lord. Therefore, I must insist that the evidence in favour of my client be included without further delay."
"You have no power to make such an demand, as well you know. I have ruled on this, Ms Channing, and that is the end of the matter."
"But my Lord, this means that my client has almost no evidence with which to defend himself."
"Quite, which should mean that this is an open and shut case. A couple of days should see it through."
"Surely such a remark is an indication of your partiality in favour of the claimant, My Lord. One might ask if you should be hearing this case." John had heard quite enough.
"Ms Channing, I have put up with your thoroughly contemptuous behaviour all morning. It will not continue."
"I am simply trying to defend my client in order to achieve a measure of justice, My Lord."
"No you're not. You have persistently sought to undermine my authority and I will not put up with it a moment longer. I find you in clear, unequivocal contempt of this court, and you will be removed to a cell until you can learn to behave in a respectful manner towards me and to purge your contempt to my satisfaction. Will the dock officer please remove Ms Channing to a cell. Court is adjourned." George couldn't believe he'd done this to her again. As the dock officer took hold of her arm, she shook him off and stalked ahead of him, not willing to be subservient to such a mere mortal. But when he closed the by now familiar door behind her, she slumped on to the generic plastic chair, and felt utterly miserable. This was the third time she'd done this in front of John, and he would be well within his rights to formally punish her for it. He was able to wind her up so easily, and she hated him for it. But then, it wasn't really him she hated for her own lack of self-control, it was herself, she who couldn't even keep a lid on her temper. She felt thoroughly dejected, as empty and deflated as a burst balloon. She'd been here often enough before, to know that being galvanized in to almost reckless action one minute and returning to sheer misery the next, was never a good sign.
As Karen drove in to the carpark of the Old Bailey, she felt slightly odd at coming here without the company of Yvonne, Cassie and Roisin. They had presented a united front throughout the Merriman/Atkins trial, and it felt a little daunting to wander amongst the legal personnel on her own. She pushed open the heavy front doors and walked in to the foyer. Not knowing who to approach or where to start looking for the Judge, she approached a man who looked to her as if he came here on a regular basis.
"Excuse me," She said to Neuman Mason-Alan who was sitting reading a newspaper. "Has court adjourned for lunch?"
"Yes," Said this barrister, taking in Karen's very attractive form. "The Judge was forced to adjourn after having defence council removed for being in contempt of court." He seemed to enjoy passing on this piece of information. Briefly smiling at the memory of George doing this during the trial, Karen said,
"Would you know where I might find the Judge?"
"I'd assume he'd be in his chambers." Following the route she'd taken after her long day of questioning and cross-examination, Karen climbed the stairs and traversed the long corridor and hoped that the Judge would see her. As John wasn't with anyone, Coope showed Karen straight in. John was also immersed in a newspaper, but looked up as Coope appeared.
"Karen Betts to see you, Judge." Putting the paper aside, John stood up and moved forward to greet her.
"This is a pleasant surprise," He said, giving her a broad smile.
"I don't want to disturb you," Said Karen, not altogether sure if she should have come here.
"You're not. Would you like to join me for lunch?"
"Thank you, that would be nice." Asking Coope to bring them some sandwiches, John gestured Karen to a chair.
"How's life behind Her Majesty's bars?" He asked, pouring her some coffee.
"Not enough funding, too many inmates, the same as ever. How about you?"
"I'm not sure which is worse," Said John contemplatively. "The criminals who appear before me, or barristers who insist on breaking the rules."
"When I asked someone downstairs if court was still in session, he told me that you'd had another run in with George."
"Let me guess, tall, dark-haired, and with the reputation of leading witnesses as if they were wearing a bridle." Karen laughed.
"Sounds about right."
"He's acting for the prosecution, but he absolutely shouldn't be talking about that. I loathe people who insist on gossipping to all and sundry about things that really don't concern them."
"So, how do you reward such displays of verbal carelessness?" Asked Karen, her slightly flirtatious tone matching his. John fixed his gaze on her.
"I have the gossips' tongues cut out."
"I don't doubt it," Replied Karen, grinning at him from under her eyelashes.
"Do you remember my having George removed to a cell during the Merriman/Atkins trial?"
"How could I forget. Up until then, I'd thought a Judge couldn't do that to a barrister."
"She pulled another stunt like that this morning. It's her third time, and I can't go on letting her get away with it."
"What's the alternative?"
"If I sentenced George to a night in the local remand prison, Larkhall for example, it would ruin her both as a barrister and as a person."
"I might have only spent an hour or so with her," Said Karen guardedly, "but I think a night in that place would do her far more harm than good." John scrutinized Karen, seeing in her a level of understanding that he'd only previously guessed at.
"Hmm," He said, "Not something I want to do unless its absolutely necessary. The only other course of action left open to me is a fine, but even if I gave her the maximum, it's only as much as she'd spend on a dress." Coope brought in some lunch for them, and as they ate, an idea began to slowly take shape in Karen's mind. They left the subject of George and her errant behaviour alone for a while, and talked of inconsequential things until, after lighting a cigarette, Karen put forward her suggestion.
"A conviction for anything wouldn't exactly do a QC's reputation any good. So, why not let her off this time, but actually get her to take a serious look at the consequences of being punished for it."
"Go on," John replied, thinking that any new idea on this one was certainly worth hearing.
"Give her a warning, tell her that this is the last time you are prepared to be lenient. But as a condition of her only receiving a warning, get her to spend a day shadowing me. I'll take her through it, show her the parts of a prison that most barristers never see, and explain to her exactly what would happen to her if you did impose a night in custody. Trust me, a few hours in Larkhall, even knowing that she can walk away at the end of it, might just do the trick. Like you said, this is her third time, and perhaps she keeps offending because she isn't really aware of the consequences of her actions." John was amazed. Not even if he'd spent all day mulling over the matter would he have thought of this.
"You're a genius," He said. "and if it's a condition of my leniency, not even George can argue with it."
"Have you ever thought about why she does it?"
"Other than that she has an extremely low boiling point, and that she can't accept not being given her own way, no."
"I had two weeks to observe the way you, Jo and George interact with each other."
"Not something I'd recommend to anyone," Said John drily which made Karen smile.
"George hates being proved wrong by you. At first, I thought it was Jo's presence that was winding her up, but it wasn't. It was being before you that was getting to her. George hates it whenever you are there to witness her failure. She needs to constantly prove herself professionally, in order to show herself and you that she doesn't still need your approval. Does that make sense?"
"Yes, it does," He said, a little surprised. "You didn't tell me you had a qualification in psychology as well as a clear leaning towards adversarial skill."
"I suspect I'm not the only one who uses observation of human interaction as a nice little sideline. As a judge, you have to do it as a matter of course, and as a wing governor, it's how I keep things on an even keel." John smiled.
"I could write a paper on that," He said, refilling their coffee cups. "And I didn't ask why you came to see me today, though I have to tell you that the interruption was most welcome."
"How much has Jo told you about the Fenner case?"
"She did tell me that at present, there isn't enough evidence to proceed to a criminal trial, and that she'd passed you over to George, with a view to forming a civil case against area management for not having done their job with regards to James Fenner."
"George thinks it would be a good idea if I could talk to one of Fenner's victims, who is currently languishing in Ashmore special psychiatric hospital. Michelle Dockley holds many of the loose ends of this case. One might almost say that she has more info on Fenner than the rest of us put together. The problem is that I can't see Dockley under normal circumstances, because of where she is, and because I'm not a relative. George suggested that I should ask you if you would issue a court order, giving me permission to talk to Dockley."
"George didn't mention this when I saw her this morning." Karen grinned.
"She told me on Friday that you wouldn't do this for her, but that you might for me." John laughed.
"George knows perfectly well that I'd do anything for her, if only she'd learn to ask nicely."
"I wouldn't tell her that if I were you," Said Karen with a broad smile. "You might end up regretting it."
"Of course I'll issue the court order," Said John, becoming serious again. "As I assume this needs to be done without delay, I'll do it at the end of this afternoon's session, and get Coope to fax it to you."
"Thank you. If nothing else, Dockley will be able to fill in a few gaps."
George was sitting exactly where she had since she'd been locked in this hell hole, just staring blindly at the dull, gray wall in front of her. She didn't have the energy to be angry, and what purpose would it serve. John would let her out of here, and only when he was good and ready. When she heard the key turn in the lock, she steadfastly kept her gaze away from whoever it was who'd come to see her. Putting the custody officer's keys that he'd been loaned in his pocket, John closed the door behind him and simply looked at her. George was doing her utmost to keep her face blank, but he hadn't missed the brief look of sheer misery when he'd glanced through the spy hole before opening the door. When she didn't say a word to him, he realised that something was very different from the other two times they'd been here. He thought she looked tired, pale, and as if she really didn't care what happened to her.
"Do you have an explanation for what happened this morning?" He asked quietly.
"No," Was her unequivocal reply.
"And are you going to purge your contempt?"
"I apologize unreservedly. Will that do?"
"You can't keep doing this, George."
"Fine," She said bitterly. "Send me to prison for a night. You know you're itching to do it."
"I'd have thought that the fact of my talking to you here instead of in court, shows that giving you a custodial is the last thing I want to do. There is, however, an interesting pattern emerging here. On the three occasions you've done this, you've had either a witness or some evidence slipping out of your grasp. I used to think it was Jo's presence that wound you up," He said, unconsciously echoing Karen's words of a while before. "but it isn't, as can be seen by today."
"Spare me the psychology," Said George, her scorn covering up her fear that he would get to the truth.
"But I think it's me you have the problem with."
"John, please, just give me whatever punishment you're planning on giving me and let's leave it at that."
"Perhaps this isn't the time or place, but we will get to the bottom of this," He said, fixing her with the type of stare that left her in no doubt that they would one day revisit her reasons for losing control in his court. "On this occasion, and on this occasion only, you are being given a warning. Do this again, and I really will lock you up. However, as a condition to your warning, you will spend the whole of Thursday shadowing Karen Betts. She came to see me on your advice, to ask for the court order which I will issue this afternoon. We talked about you," Here George couldn't help blushing. "And Karen came up with the perfect solution. On Thursday, she will, as she put it, show you the parts of Larkhall that barristers don't normally see, and explain to you what would happen if you did have to spend a night in custody. I'm not entirely convinced it'll work, but Karen seems to think that a few hours behind bars, and becoming thoroughly acquainted with the possible consequences of your actions, might just persuade you not to do it again. Is that clear?"
"Crystal," Replied George icily, cursing Karen for her ingenious suggestion.
"You will report to Karen Betts at ten on Thursday morning. How long she decides to keep you, is entirely up to her."
"You're really enjoying this, aren't you."
"It's certainly different, but where you're contempt is concerned, all ideas are gratefully received." George didn't reply, but just looked at the wall across from her. "Come here," John said softly, and after a moment's hesitation, George rose and stood before him, feeling like a naughty schoolgirl. When he gently put his arms round her, she thought that if anyone was nice to her today, she would begin crying and never be able to stop. He could feel how tense she was, and ran a hand slowly up and down her back, trying to make her relax. Eventually, she returned his hug, and stood with her cheek pressed against his firm chest.
"What's got in to you?" He asked softly.
"No one," She said miserably, "I think that's the point." A small smile lifted the corners of his mouth.
"We all have to put up with that from time to time." She lifted her face to look up in to his.
"You don't," She said scornfully, "You just go out and pick up a new bit of skirt." "Anyway, I thought you had Jo on tap these days." Knowing that this was only partially responsible for her current mood, he ignored the jibe. They simply stood there for a while, in that cold, impersonal cell, arms round each other with her leaning her face against him. She took an immeasurable amount of comfort from this, and he spent the time worrying about her. George was gradually slipping back in to the type of unpredictable behaviour he hadn't seen in her since they were married. Lifting his left arm from round her, he glanced at his watch.
"We've got to go back to court," He said, gently disentangling himself from her. George lifted a hand to cover a yawn.
"I could do with going to sleep, not back in to the firing line," She said, all the morning's energy clearly gone. John took her by the shoulders and scrutinized her.
"You're looking thinner," He said.
"Yes, thank you, I can look in a mirror," Was her scathing response. He raised his hands in mock surrender.
"Hey, calm down, it was only an observation." As he let them both out of the cell, he said, "So, you will go to Larkhall on Thursday?"
"I thought it was an order, not a request."
"If it'll help you to behave in future, then yes, it is an order. As for the other court order, Coope will fax it to Karen later this afternoon and I think she'll go to see Michelle Dockley tomorrow."
"Well, let's hope she has more success than any of us have so far."
On the Monday morning, three days after Karen's meeting with George, John found himself walking through the foyer of the Old Bailey, on his way to buy a newspaper, when he caught sight of George pushing her way through the main doors, a collection of files under her arm. Today was the beginning of a pretrial hearing with her as the defence and Neumann Mason-Alan as prosecutor, someone who George and John for that matter had always despised. He had a reputation for leading the witnesses at every opportunity and of introducing the flimsiest of evidence. As George strode towards John, one of the files slipped from under her arm, scattering its contents far and wide. Taking one look at her face, John was briefly reminded of the time when a three-year-old Charlie had spilt Ribena all over George's favourite cream suit jacket. Instead of cursing the file and its contents to high heaven, she simply stood, closed her eyes for a moment, and took in a slow, deep breath. As she began to pick up the far flung papers, John went to her assistance. Knowing from passed experiences that it was better to let her calm down in her own time, he didn't say a word.
"Thank you," She said, when all the stray documents had been reassembled. "I swear this is the last straw."
"Why?" He asked tentatively, feeling that the rant was about to emerge.
"First, I overslept. Then, the stupid car wouldn't start, and you know what it's like trying to find a cab at this time of the morning. So, I had to get the tube, where I had to stand pressed up against a disgusting old man who kept leering at me." John grinned.
"I'm not surprised," He said, reaching forward to do up the top two buttons of her blouse. "I bet he thought it was his lucky day." George looked down, at his all too familiar hand, hiding away the stunning exhibition of her utterly enchanting breasts encased in cream lace.
"Oh, no," She groaned. "Trust you to be the one to see that."
"You should learn to get up in the morning, then you wouldn't have this problem," He said, clearly flirting with her.
"Perhaps the only advantage of living with either you or Neil," George replied scathingly, "Is that you are both insufferably cheerful first thing in the morning, so you force me to get up out of pure irritation." John grimaced.
"I don't want to have anything in common with that loathsome individual."
"Who's prosecuting today?" Asked George, changing the topic of conversation. "Because whoever it is had better be ready for my wrath."
"Well, just remember that court is not the place to work off your anger. Neumann Mason-Alan is prosecuting, so I'm sure you'll give him a bumpy ride."
"You're quite bloody right I will. He's the most pathetic barrister I think I've ever been up against."
A while later when the three of them were going over the evidence in order for John to decide what was admissible and what wasn't, George could feel the slow, inexorable rise of her temper. It hadn't entirely subsided since her fraught journey to work, but this jumped up, pathetic upstart of a man was really beginning to get on her nerves. He usually did criminal work, and was persisting in his quest to get most of her evidence discounted on the grounds that it was hearsay.
"My Lord," George intoned, her anger becoming palpable. "As I have stated in this very court many times before, there are grounds within the rules and legislation of civil procedure, that do allow for the submission and use of what some may class as hearsay evidence."
"I am well aware of that, Ms Channing, but the interpretation of civil procedure may only be taken so far."
"My Lord, such an assertion is utterly preposterous. If my learned friend here were not so used to the rules governing criminal evidence and procedure, and had taken the time to make himself even slightly aware of the relevant statutes governing civil procedure, he would not now be objecting to the evidence I am seeking to submit." Neuman Mason-Alan gritted his teeth but remained silent in the face of such a wild card as his current adversary. He was aware of the past between Georgia Channing and John Deed, and couldn't for the life of him see what they must once have had in common.
"Ms Channing, I am finding in favour of the prosecution."
"But My Lord..."
"You know better than to interrupt me, Ms Channing. I am finding in favour of the prosecution, because I would cast serious doubt as to the actual, genuine existence of the ludicrously flimsy evidence you are seeking to submit."
"My Lord, surely this is precisely the nature of hearsay evidence."
"That's debatable and you know it."
"I would argue that it is, My Lord. Therefore, I must insist that the evidence in favour of my client be included without further delay."
"You have no power to make such an demand, as well you know. I have ruled on this, Ms Channing, and that is the end of the matter."
"But my Lord, this means that my client has almost no evidence with which to defend himself."
"Quite, which should mean that this is an open and shut case. A couple of days should see it through."
"Surely such a remark is an indication of your partiality in favour of the claimant, My Lord. One might ask if you should be hearing this case." John had heard quite enough.
"Ms Channing, I have put up with your thoroughly contemptuous behaviour all morning. It will not continue."
"I am simply trying to defend my client in order to achieve a measure of justice, My Lord."
"No you're not. You have persistently sought to undermine my authority and I will not put up with it a moment longer. I find you in clear, unequivocal contempt of this court, and you will be removed to a cell until you can learn to behave in a respectful manner towards me and to purge your contempt to my satisfaction. Will the dock officer please remove Ms Channing to a cell. Court is adjourned." George couldn't believe he'd done this to her again. As the dock officer took hold of her arm, she shook him off and stalked ahead of him, not willing to be subservient to such a mere mortal. But when he closed the by now familiar door behind her, she slumped on to the generic plastic chair, and felt utterly miserable. This was the third time she'd done this in front of John, and he would be well within his rights to formally punish her for it. He was able to wind her up so easily, and she hated him for it. But then, it wasn't really him she hated for her own lack of self-control, it was herself, she who couldn't even keep a lid on her temper. She felt thoroughly dejected, as empty and deflated as a burst balloon. She'd been here often enough before, to know that being galvanized in to almost reckless action one minute and returning to sheer misery the next, was never a good sign.
As Karen drove in to the carpark of the Old Bailey, she felt slightly odd at coming here without the company of Yvonne, Cassie and Roisin. They had presented a united front throughout the Merriman/Atkins trial, and it felt a little daunting to wander amongst the legal personnel on her own. She pushed open the heavy front doors and walked in to the foyer. Not knowing who to approach or where to start looking for the Judge, she approached a man who looked to her as if he came here on a regular basis.
"Excuse me," She said to Neuman Mason-Alan who was sitting reading a newspaper. "Has court adjourned for lunch?"
"Yes," Said this barrister, taking in Karen's very attractive form. "The Judge was forced to adjourn after having defence council removed for being in contempt of court." He seemed to enjoy passing on this piece of information. Briefly smiling at the memory of George doing this during the trial, Karen said,
"Would you know where I might find the Judge?"
"I'd assume he'd be in his chambers." Following the route she'd taken after her long day of questioning and cross-examination, Karen climbed the stairs and traversed the long corridor and hoped that the Judge would see her. As John wasn't with anyone, Coope showed Karen straight in. John was also immersed in a newspaper, but looked up as Coope appeared.
"Karen Betts to see you, Judge." Putting the paper aside, John stood up and moved forward to greet her.
"This is a pleasant surprise," He said, giving her a broad smile.
"I don't want to disturb you," Said Karen, not altogether sure if she should have come here.
"You're not. Would you like to join me for lunch?"
"Thank you, that would be nice." Asking Coope to bring them some sandwiches, John gestured Karen to a chair.
"How's life behind Her Majesty's bars?" He asked, pouring her some coffee.
"Not enough funding, too many inmates, the same as ever. How about you?"
"I'm not sure which is worse," Said John contemplatively. "The criminals who appear before me, or barristers who insist on breaking the rules."
"When I asked someone downstairs if court was still in session, he told me that you'd had another run in with George."
"Let me guess, tall, dark-haired, and with the reputation of leading witnesses as if they were wearing a bridle." Karen laughed.
"Sounds about right."
"He's acting for the prosecution, but he absolutely shouldn't be talking about that. I loathe people who insist on gossipping to all and sundry about things that really don't concern them."
"So, how do you reward such displays of verbal carelessness?" Asked Karen, her slightly flirtatious tone matching his. John fixed his gaze on her.
"I have the gossips' tongues cut out."
"I don't doubt it," Replied Karen, grinning at him from under her eyelashes.
"Do you remember my having George removed to a cell during the Merriman/Atkins trial?"
"How could I forget. Up until then, I'd thought a Judge couldn't do that to a barrister."
"She pulled another stunt like that this morning. It's her third time, and I can't go on letting her get away with it."
"What's the alternative?"
"If I sentenced George to a night in the local remand prison, Larkhall for example, it would ruin her both as a barrister and as a person."
"I might have only spent an hour or so with her," Said Karen guardedly, "but I think a night in that place would do her far more harm than good." John scrutinized Karen, seeing in her a level of understanding that he'd only previously guessed at.
"Hmm," He said, "Not something I want to do unless its absolutely necessary. The only other course of action left open to me is a fine, but even if I gave her the maximum, it's only as much as she'd spend on a dress." Coope brought in some lunch for them, and as they ate, an idea began to slowly take shape in Karen's mind. They left the subject of George and her errant behaviour alone for a while, and talked of inconsequential things until, after lighting a cigarette, Karen put forward her suggestion.
"A conviction for anything wouldn't exactly do a QC's reputation any good. So, why not let her off this time, but actually get her to take a serious look at the consequences of being punished for it."
"Go on," John replied, thinking that any new idea on this one was certainly worth hearing.
"Give her a warning, tell her that this is the last time you are prepared to be lenient. But as a condition of her only receiving a warning, get her to spend a day shadowing me. I'll take her through it, show her the parts of a prison that most barristers never see, and explain to her exactly what would happen to her if you did impose a night in custody. Trust me, a few hours in Larkhall, even knowing that she can walk away at the end of it, might just do the trick. Like you said, this is her third time, and perhaps she keeps offending because she isn't really aware of the consequences of her actions." John was amazed. Not even if he'd spent all day mulling over the matter would he have thought of this.
"You're a genius," He said. "and if it's a condition of my leniency, not even George can argue with it."
"Have you ever thought about why she does it?"
"Other than that she has an extremely low boiling point, and that she can't accept not being given her own way, no."
"I had two weeks to observe the way you, Jo and George interact with each other."
"Not something I'd recommend to anyone," Said John drily which made Karen smile.
"George hates being proved wrong by you. At first, I thought it was Jo's presence that was winding her up, but it wasn't. It was being before you that was getting to her. George hates it whenever you are there to witness her failure. She needs to constantly prove herself professionally, in order to show herself and you that she doesn't still need your approval. Does that make sense?"
"Yes, it does," He said, a little surprised. "You didn't tell me you had a qualification in psychology as well as a clear leaning towards adversarial skill."
"I suspect I'm not the only one who uses observation of human interaction as a nice little sideline. As a judge, you have to do it as a matter of course, and as a wing governor, it's how I keep things on an even keel." John smiled.
"I could write a paper on that," He said, refilling their coffee cups. "And I didn't ask why you came to see me today, though I have to tell you that the interruption was most welcome."
"How much has Jo told you about the Fenner case?"
"She did tell me that at present, there isn't enough evidence to proceed to a criminal trial, and that she'd passed you over to George, with a view to forming a civil case against area management for not having done their job with regards to James Fenner."
"George thinks it would be a good idea if I could talk to one of Fenner's victims, who is currently languishing in Ashmore special psychiatric hospital. Michelle Dockley holds many of the loose ends of this case. One might almost say that she has more info on Fenner than the rest of us put together. The problem is that I can't see Dockley under normal circumstances, because of where she is, and because I'm not a relative. George suggested that I should ask you if you would issue a court order, giving me permission to talk to Dockley."
"George didn't mention this when I saw her this morning." Karen grinned.
"She told me on Friday that you wouldn't do this for her, but that you might for me." John laughed.
"George knows perfectly well that I'd do anything for her, if only she'd learn to ask nicely."
"I wouldn't tell her that if I were you," Said Karen with a broad smile. "You might end up regretting it."
"Of course I'll issue the court order," Said John, becoming serious again. "As I assume this needs to be done without delay, I'll do it at the end of this afternoon's session, and get Coope to fax it to you."
"Thank you. If nothing else, Dockley will be able to fill in a few gaps."
George was sitting exactly where she had since she'd been locked in this hell hole, just staring blindly at the dull, gray wall in front of her. She didn't have the energy to be angry, and what purpose would it serve. John would let her out of here, and only when he was good and ready. When she heard the key turn in the lock, she steadfastly kept her gaze away from whoever it was who'd come to see her. Putting the custody officer's keys that he'd been loaned in his pocket, John closed the door behind him and simply looked at her. George was doing her utmost to keep her face blank, but he hadn't missed the brief look of sheer misery when he'd glanced through the spy hole before opening the door. When she didn't say a word to him, he realised that something was very different from the other two times they'd been here. He thought she looked tired, pale, and as if she really didn't care what happened to her.
"Do you have an explanation for what happened this morning?" He asked quietly.
"No," Was her unequivocal reply.
"And are you going to purge your contempt?"
"I apologize unreservedly. Will that do?"
"You can't keep doing this, George."
"Fine," She said bitterly. "Send me to prison for a night. You know you're itching to do it."
"I'd have thought that the fact of my talking to you here instead of in court, shows that giving you a custodial is the last thing I want to do. There is, however, an interesting pattern emerging here. On the three occasions you've done this, you've had either a witness or some evidence slipping out of your grasp. I used to think it was Jo's presence that wound you up," He said, unconsciously echoing Karen's words of a while before. "but it isn't, as can be seen by today."
"Spare me the psychology," Said George, her scorn covering up her fear that he would get to the truth.
"But I think it's me you have the problem with."
"John, please, just give me whatever punishment you're planning on giving me and let's leave it at that."
"Perhaps this isn't the time or place, but we will get to the bottom of this," He said, fixing her with the type of stare that left her in no doubt that they would one day revisit her reasons for losing control in his court. "On this occasion, and on this occasion only, you are being given a warning. Do this again, and I really will lock you up. However, as a condition to your warning, you will spend the whole of Thursday shadowing Karen Betts. She came to see me on your advice, to ask for the court order which I will issue this afternoon. We talked about you," Here George couldn't help blushing. "And Karen came up with the perfect solution. On Thursday, she will, as she put it, show you the parts of Larkhall that barristers don't normally see, and explain to you what would happen if you did have to spend a night in custody. I'm not entirely convinced it'll work, but Karen seems to think that a few hours behind bars, and becoming thoroughly acquainted with the possible consequences of your actions, might just persuade you not to do it again. Is that clear?"
"Crystal," Replied George icily, cursing Karen for her ingenious suggestion.
"You will report to Karen Betts at ten on Thursday morning. How long she decides to keep you, is entirely up to her."
"You're really enjoying this, aren't you."
"It's certainly different, but where you're contempt is concerned, all ideas are gratefully received." George didn't reply, but just looked at the wall across from her. "Come here," John said softly, and after a moment's hesitation, George rose and stood before him, feeling like a naughty schoolgirl. When he gently put his arms round her, she thought that if anyone was nice to her today, she would begin crying and never be able to stop. He could feel how tense she was, and ran a hand slowly up and down her back, trying to make her relax. Eventually, she returned his hug, and stood with her cheek pressed against his firm chest.
"What's got in to you?" He asked softly.
"No one," She said miserably, "I think that's the point." A small smile lifted the corners of his mouth.
"We all have to put up with that from time to time." She lifted her face to look up in to his.
"You don't," She said scornfully, "You just go out and pick up a new bit of skirt." "Anyway, I thought you had Jo on tap these days." Knowing that this was only partially responsible for her current mood, he ignored the jibe. They simply stood there for a while, in that cold, impersonal cell, arms round each other with her leaning her face against him. She took an immeasurable amount of comfort from this, and he spent the time worrying about her. George was gradually slipping back in to the type of unpredictable behaviour he hadn't seen in her since they were married. Lifting his left arm from round her, he glanced at his watch.
"We've got to go back to court," He said, gently disentangling himself from her. George lifted a hand to cover a yawn.
"I could do with going to sleep, not back in to the firing line," She said, all the morning's energy clearly gone. John took her by the shoulders and scrutinized her.
"You're looking thinner," He said.
"Yes, thank you, I can look in a mirror," Was her scathing response. He raised his hands in mock surrender.
"Hey, calm down, it was only an observation." As he let them both out of the cell, he said, "So, you will go to Larkhall on Thursday?"
"I thought it was an order, not a request."
"If it'll help you to behave in future, then yes, it is an order. As for the other court order, Coope will fax it to Karen later this afternoon and I think she'll go to see Michelle Dockley tomorrow."
"Well, let's hope she has more success than any of us have so far."