Chloe looked at her reflection, her face pale against the harsh dark suit. It was barely comprehensible that less than a year ago she wore a suit like this every day. Pinching her cheeks she begged for colour, but she’d lost that, along with her breakfast in the bathroom an hour earlier. Those six weeks of pleasure and happiness in Canada were a distant memory. Fading daily like her tan.
This moment had weighed on her so heavily, and now it was here. The day she had to testify at the trial of the man who killed her brother...’allegedly’ as the news reports had insisted since it started a few days earlier. The evidence against him was damning, CCTV footage showed him following Owen around the corner into her street moments before the assault, he’d also been caught trying to sell Owen’s mobile phone the following day in a cash for goods store. He had a drug habit, lived on the streets, had a record of petty theft and assault convictions. When he was arrested he was bruised to the knuckles as well as over one eye, the only sign that Owen may have had the chance to fight back, but there was no DNA evidence on either him or Owen’s body. Then there was the fact that he’d boasted about ‘doing him in’ to his cell mate whilst waiting for trial. Everything pointed at him doing the deed but all the evidence was circumstantial.
\despite all that, he was, of course, entitled to a fair trial, and as part of that they were trying to use Owen’s apparent argument with her to cast doubt on his innocence, they wanted to hint that he was angry and looking for trouble himself, that Owen had been attacked in self defence. Hence her testimony.
Taking a deep breath, she left her parents’ home. She’d been there since coming home two months earlier. She was trying to fight the depression and guilt that had threatened her since the day her twin was killed, and she was only just winning. Once this ordeal was over she could start again. It was the very last thing in a long list of ‘things she had to get over’. Maybe tomorrow she’d be able to find her way to a normal life.
Her father looked like he’d aged twenty years since Owen had died, Chloe acknowledged as he drove them all to the central London courthouse. This, other than the verdict, was the last stage in the nightmare for her parents too. She hoped with all her heart that it was. They’d suffered more than they deserved, and a large part of that was her role in all this. They’d both promised to go visit Phil once the case was over, and she knew that was the break they both needed to start the recovery process.
Her mother squeezed her hand as they pulled up at the car park. This was the last she’d see of them until she walked in to the packed court room and into the witness box. She hugged her parents, then followed the clerks to the room dedicated for those about to testify. That was when the waiting started. She’d been in the same room for the last two days, but she’d been assured that today would be her day in the box.
Chloe took the book from her bag and tried, as she had the last two days, to concentrate on it, but she could barely think for the pounding of her heart and the bile that gurgled at the back of her throat. It had been like this for weeks, she was briefed by the prosecutors, reassured that her testimony was Pinker’s team attempting to clutch at straws. But nothing really defeated the fear and anxiety that thought of the testimony brought.
When the gowned clerk came in and called her name, she stood, and then followed on legs that would hardly step one in front of the other they were shaking so much. It felt as though she was the one on trial, that the world was about judging her. Stopping halfway along the corridor, she had to reach for the wall, steady herself. The clerk waited with little compassion, so she rushed along embarrassed at her lack of coping. As the large oak door swung open, the hushed sounds of the court came like an invasion to her senses. With a deep breath she stepped forward.
Luke’s eyes were trained on the door behind the witness box. He’d barely made it to the court on time, and was relieved to find out that Chloe hadn’t been called up the day before. Sitting in the back of the room, he’d listened to the end of the evidence from the last witness, the pathologist who’d performed the post mortem on Owen. He’d grimaced at some of the words spoken, and the images they portrayed. He immediately identified Chloe’s parents as the ones reacting most dramatically to the words from the gathered crowds. Poor bastards! He thought, unable to imagine having to hear in exact anatomical details each blow and injury their now dead son had suffered.
He thought back to the day all those months ago when Chloe told him that her brother had been killed. At no point had he honestly thought of what that meant. He’d not imagined this moment, this scenario.
In fact, this had all taken him by surprise. Once he’d been abandoned in New York by Chloe, he was determined to forget her, get on with his life. The season was coming to an end, whilst there was no chance of them winning the league, they did make play offs, unexpectedly, and so the season extended. When they made it to the play off final, he emailed Chloe to tell her, his attempts to get over her were futile. He’d wanted her to come to the game, though he knew it wasn’t practical or likely, he still needed to share his good news with her.
The last thing he’d expected was an email snubbing him. The words ‘my life moves on’, almost cut him to the core. It was his anger to that that had made him jump into the car and drive to the government buildings and the only man with any answers. Phil.
He was shown into the large airy office within moments of arriving; Phil sat behind a huge desk and gestured to a seat opposite after shaking the younger man’s hand.
“Luke. How are you?”
If Phil expected anything from the other man, it was anger and frustration, when he looked at him, all he could see was sadness...tears.
“I can’t understand it Phil. Why is she pushing me away? I know you know more than me...she didn’t share anything. I just wish I knew how to make her see sense. I love her, you know?”
Phil had been floored, not knowing how to deal with a man so obviously grieving for his sister. He had a loyalty to her, he knew that, but as he looked at Luke, broken, he decided that it was time Chloe woke up to life. He’d been annoyed when she’d left so abruptly, angry that she failed to see how she needed to stop this now, her distance from everyone. They’d all had a rough time, all lost someone special, but her self destruction seemed to be her emotional crutch, he was the only one to change that.
“Did she tell you about Owen?”
Luke sighed, “Only that he’d died.”
Phil nodded, “he was murdered, outside her house.”
Luke felt as though the room was spinning, how had he not known that? “Murdered?”
Phil nodded again, and so the whole sordid story came out. Owen’s gruesome death, his family falling apart, Chloe’s admission that they’d argued the night of the death, her guilt in it all, and the imminent court case.
“She’s testifying? How? What?”
Shrugging, Phil grimaced, “it’s not even fathomable, is it? I don’t know what they hope to prove, but Chloe is scared, and so much more. She’ll push you away to protect herself.”
“From me?”
He laughed, “No! I just think she’s scared. She’s been in a bad place Luke, that’s why she came to stay here. To heal. And you helped her to do that until they called her to go to trial. Then she was back there again. In her own hell.”
“You think she wants to see me again? She told me she was getting on with her life without me.”
Phil pondered for a moment, “she’s trying to stay in control. Maybe you’re part of that? I don’t know Luke; I just know that she was happy with you. I wouldn’t give up...but she needs to face her demons in the court case first.”
Phil took a punt on Luke doing the right thing. He could see the boy was devastated, and could only hope that he’d given him enough information to follow her.
Luke was still confused as he left the office, so much didn’t make sense, but Phil told him the trial details and not much more. Inevitably he’d fought to get the time to travel before his winter contract began. And as the door at the back of the court opened he found he was holding his breath.
It had been ten weeks since she’d walked out on him, ten weeks and three days to be precise. And for a moment he felt euphoric. Then he studied her, the carefree tanned happy woman was no more, she was pale, almost anaemic looking, her short funky hair was lank and dull, her face was a mask, her knuckles white on her gripped fists. She was wearing a dark suit, and it was strange seeing his vibrant lover looking so conservative, so scared, and so ill.
He groaned, what hell was she going through? All he could do was watch as she was signed in to the witness box her quiet voice repeating the oath, then sitting, a tiny figure dwarfed by the smooth wooden box she sat in.
The defence team were two men; one he imagined was maybe fifty, wearing the white wig that was used in this judicial service. When he stood, Chloe flinched, and Luke watched as she eyed the man with almost fear.
“Miss Palmer, can you tell us about the night your brother was so tragically killed outside your home?”
Luke groaned, the man’s intention was to immediately implicate Chloe in the story. His heart ached for her as she tried to answer, recalling speaking to Owen at various times of the evening.
“And am I right in thinking that you’d argued with him?” He paused looking around the room for added drama, “after all, there were several messages left on your...and his answer phones that night!”
He could see Chloe swallow, the images obviously so vivid in her head, and he wanted to kill this man, for torturing her so slowly, why the hell would anyone human being do that?
Keep breathing. That was Chloe’s mantra. The fact that she was being quizzed by Max Bremmer, her old boss couldn’t affect her, neither could the fact that sat next to him on the bench was David...the cause of the argument that night. As she looked at him for a moment, he at least had the good grace to look embarrassed. He knew that she could very easily implicate him in this case, but the prosecution had told her time and time again to see this through, and not complicate things. She could see the logic, this was being done to distract from Malcolm Pinker’s guilt, she couldn’t forget that.
“We were brother and sister Mr Bremmer; arguments are a common part of family life.”
“What was the argument about?”
The prosecution objected, but Max was good at this and managed to field off the protest, “Miss Palmer?”
Chloe was getting angry, she met his eyes head on and stared at him for a moment, “I wouldn’t join him for a drink. I was waiting for a friend...someone he didn’t like.”
“So you chose the other man over him?” He asked smugly.
“I didn’t say it was a man!” She snapped.
Max grinned, “Just answer the question Miss Palmer.”
“He was angry that someone who apparently cared about me treated me so badly.” She glared at David...he dropped his eyes. “But no I neither chose someone over him, nor was he angry with me.”
That wasn’t what Max wanted to hear. And he looked a little rankled. Taking a deep breath he looked at her, “that doesn’t explain your message on his phone!”
She sighed, “he was drunk Mr Bremmer, and I wasn’t.”
Max turned to the jury, “please read the transcript, item eighteen B.” He turned back to her, “I quote the words, ‘butt out of my life Owen, I’m sick of you interfering’, and then, ‘you’ll regret this tomorrow!’” He stared at her expectantly.
Chloe suddenly realised that Max Bremmer, the man who’d been her employer whilst this happened, was trying to twist things around and make her look guilty. As if this wasn’t hell enough.