Valiant

Barrister Cornwell

A meeting was being held at the former residential home of the Mr and Mrs Austin Orlu. It was more of a feast actually. It was a celebration. There was wine, chicken and rice, small plates of goat meat pepper soup, crates of mineral, even a cake.
Uncle Matthew struggled to open yet another bottle of yago red wine as there were two empty ones on the floor. He was laughing, revealing all his dentition and it was far from the work of any toothpaste at all. There was a lady on his right, another on his left and another behind him, all laughing stupidly. The whole place reeked of alcohol and cigarettes, but from the beginning, uncle Matthew had called for a meeting.

"Gentlemen" he addressed the house, though they really weren't gentle. "It happened just as I said." And everyone began to laugh. "Indeed, we have reaped the reward of our labour" he laughed again, harder and poured wine in the glasses of anyone whose hands he could reach and thereafter, proclaimed a toast. "To victory and justice!" He changed
"To victory!!!" They replied.
*. *. *.

Barrister Cornwell walked through the empty passage of the jails. It was oddly quiet so the sound of his shoes echoed. His head was held high and he moved like he was sure of every step, because he was. He was looking sharp. Black tie, black coat, white and obviously starched shirt, and every shoelace in place. He  went on to the inspectors desk said he was here to see Mr Austin.
The inspector sized him a while, but couldn't refuse him. It was visiting hours and he had ran out of excuses to give that could possibly turn him down and away. He was directed to the callers room and told to wait while Austin was fetched.

"Austin pick up the phone" he could see him through the thin glass and sighed to himself when Austin didn't pick the first time. He didn't blame him, he couldn't. The poor man looked like he didn't even have the strength to lift a pin. "Please" he urged and Austin picked it

"What" he said with an expressionless face.

"Austin I've been running some files"

"And"

"This case can be put up for a retrial, but.."

"Cornwell I don't care if the case can be put up for retrial. I just want to know if you can get my wife out of here, Cornwell she's suffering, she can't take this, I can put up but she'll die. Please"

Barrister Cornwell put his head down and sighed. "Our chances are very slim, almost impossible, but I'll try."

"Please. Um.. you wouldn't happen to know the whereabouts of my daughter, would you? We'd had asked that she won't be present at the court. I would never have been able to get the look on her face away from my mind if she heard we were given life sentences. I just want to know if she's okay"

"I'll... Check on her"

"Please do all you can to get my wife out of here. She can't take this much longer, more importantly, Damaris needs one of us. You may not know, but I know my in-laws"

"Like I said Mr Orlu, the chances are next to impossible" he looked squarely at Austin "But I'll do my very best" with that he stood up and was ushered out by a policeman that had been standing by, while Austin was dragged away.
*. *. *.

"I don't like this. Pharoah I don't like this at all. I won't take it lightly with you again. You would not eat and you would not tell me why you won't eat, what is it?... You will not kill me and you will definitely not kill yourself. I don't want to know if you're hungry or not, march to that kitchen and eat your food" she pointed towards the door and Pharoah grimaced. When he got home, she'd asked him to go eat immediately, telling him that he was looking like a sick person after which he would explain why he was out so long but instead, he went straight to the room and just sat there, lost in thoughts. He didn't realize when she came in until she tapped him and started ranting.
He got up slowly and went to the kitchen. It was better for him to eat, than explain why he wouldn't eat. In fact, he didn't even know why he still has no appetite. He thought it was because he was worried about Damaris, but he'd seen her now, even had quite a good time with her. But he was more worried than before. Everything was going great until... Oh, that was why he was more worried. And he knew he couldn't explain even if he tried, because that would mean he would have to start from the beginning and he really didn't want to.
He ate quietly, and with such a sad look on his face, his mother could tell it wasn't because the porridge was cold. She sat by him.

"Pharoah, you tell me everything, why won't you tell me what is going on now?"

"Mum, nothing is going on, I'm just thinking too much these days"

"And I can't know what bugs you so much that you are thinking too much these days? People don't just start thinking you know"

"I know Mum, but it's not important" he forced a smile.

"Oh leave him alone honey. If he said it's not important, then it's not important, probing him will get you nowhere." Nicholas said, standing by the door. It wasn't a big place so Diane's rants were heard clearly from the front where he was sitting and when she talked solemnly to their son, all he needed to do was get closer. The wind of the night echoed her voice well.
She stood up, dusted her wrapper and began to walk to her husband. When she got to the door, she turned "I do hope that what you're thinking about is not so important as you say, or it might haunt you longer than you think. But just know, you can tell me anything" she went back and planted a kiss on his forehead before leaving finally. Nicholas was still at the door, Pharoah was aware of his presence but didn't look in his direction. He sighed, his hand were in the pockets of his khaki shorts and he was wearing just a singlet above. He looked at his son a while and left as well. That was when Pharoah released the breath he didn't know he was holding and hung his head low. The thoughts he had were not just important, but probably even more important to him than he was to himself. It was important, the relationship he was trying to build with Damaris, it was important, the scene she'd seen and what she thought of him, and it was very important how she was treated by her wicked uncle earlier that evening. He wanted to help, he really did. But she has begged him not to intervene. The whole thing played in his mind over and over again, how her uncle practically dragged her away after he had blocked the slap that was meant for her, with his arm, how she had told him not to harm the witch of an uncle and just let her go with him, worse of all, the tears in her eyes. Mum was right, that sight would haunt him forever.