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That Lovin' Feelin': Part 1

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That lovin' feelin': Part 2
Denial of Conjugal Rights

Based on a

post by Vitorio, in 2 parts. Listen to the ►
Podcast at Connected.



Finally home.

Empty, much emptier than it had been over the weekend. You're a fool I said to
myself, a bloody fool. But then, better a happy fool than a sad genius. Just
made dinner, TV, then bed. Remembered her there, got quite excited!

Even more

excited in the morning. Gordon arranged for me to see her after the committal.
11 o'clock I was there. He knew the staff pretty well so saw her in a room
alone apart from an overlooking window.

She was

sitting as I came in. "You!!"

" Hmm,"

I said - a smile, "me."

"But,

but, but. Oh god, now I'm embarrassed."

"Embarrassed?"

A shy smile,

"Oh you know. Don't be unkind."

"I could

never be that," I said, a look telling her all she needed to know.

Sadness

overcame her, "I don't even know your name," she muttered.

I sat

opposite, table between. "David," I said, "David Graham."

"You!!"

she said again. Raised eyebrows. "It's you? Gordon, he said something
about 'David'."

"Must be

if you say so," a smile, "me what?"

"It's

you who arranged for Gordon to see me isn't it?"

"Yes,

yes it is."

"And for

the lady barrister. Jane isn't it?"

"Yes,

me."

Something

like hope in her eyes, "Why?"

Opened heart

now. "Because I don't want you to go to prison. Because I can't get the
memory of the weekend out of my mind. Because I can't get You out of my mind.
Because I want to know you better." I fixed her with my eyes,
"Because I'm fond of you and because I'm a romantic fool!"

Shy smile

then, "I like fools!"

I laughed,

"Well, at least I'm in with a chance!"

Then sadness

again, "I killed him you know."

"I know.

Doesn't matter. You must have had a reason."

"Perhaps.

I'll go to prison." She looked lost and forlorn. How could a vibrant,
attractive, confident woman be reduced to such a waiflike caricature?

"Not if

I can help it. Nor Gordon, nor Jane. She's good you know. The best." Hope
in her eyes. "Try not to worry just help them all you can. Don't hide
anything Barbara."

She looked at

me, "I like that. I like it when you say my name. I wish you could have
said it, you know. And I wish I could have said yours. David. I like that.
Simple. Simple and nice."

God she was

lovely. Even here, no make-up, simple clothes, sad. I held her hands in mine,
against the rules but no-one came in, and said, "I like Barbara too."
I think my tone told her how I felt just then because she squeezed my hands.

"Thanks,"

she said. "It was unkind you know, to use you like that!"

I laughed,

"I didn't mind and I don't know." I squeezed her hands, "I hope
that you might 'use' me again."

"I think

I'd like that," she said smiling then the sadness descended, "but I
won't because I'll be in prison."

"No you

won't," I said firmly. "Now, chin up. We'll get you off this."

"Times

up Mr. Graham," said the guard entering the room. I bent and kissed her
cheek. "Now, now. None of that!"

I smiled,

"See you soon," I said. "Don't worry!"

She smiled

shyly as she was led away. Just a backward glance as she left the room.

Saw her once

a week over the next few months, until her trial. Gordon and Jane confident.
Lots of enquiries had revealed much that the police hadn't bothered to address.
Open and shut case for them. Stupid really but then sometimes they're like
that, can't see the wood for the trees.

So the trial

came round. I didn't really know how they were going to play it. Jane was quite
notorious for not preparing witnesses and I thought that she probably hadn't
spent time coaching Barbara (I was wrong!), but, as I said they were quietly
confident.

The prosecution

case was simple. Short and, they thought, sweet. The only witness was a young
woman who was there at the time. I didn't know any of this of course. It was
sub judice so the papers couldn't print any of it beforehand and I hadn't asked
Gordon or Jane about the trial.

I won't dwell

on their case because, basically, none of the facts were really argued. Barbara
had, of course, pleaded not guilty to the murder charge, the only charge
brought. I should explain that, in English law, a charge of murder includes a
charge of any lesser offence 'against the person' right down to a common
assault. I was surprised that they didn't call me in an attempt to destroy her
reputation.

Barbara was

the first defense witness. She looked far from the confident, mature, attractive
woman she was. Remand had, I don't know, defeated her I suppose. She looked
pale and wan and she'd lost some weight. You could almost hear the 'ah's' as
she took the stand.

Now Jane

showed why she was so expensive. "Mrs. Carter," she said crisply, "did
you kill you husband?" You could hear the sharp intake of breath across
the court. This was the defense!

"Mumble."

"I don't

think the jury heard that Mrs. Carter. I'll ask you again, Did you kill your
husband."

"Yes."

She couldn't look up. Jane was relentless.

"I don't

think we heard that."

"Yes,"

said Barbara. Deep breath, "Yes I did?"

"Did you

want to kill him?"

"I don't

know." Hesitation, "Yes, no. No not really."

"I don't

think I understand. Can you explain Mrs. Carter?"

She looked

confused, "Well, er, I felt like killing him, you know, seeing him like
that but that was a feeling. I don't know." She looked pensive, "I
didn't WANT to kill him, no I didn't. I just felt like it. Oh I don't
know!"

"Let me

help you," said Jane. "Did you mean to kill him?"

"Oh no.

Of course not. No. No it, it just happened." The minutest of hesitations
made me watch Barbara closely.

"So, to

clarify, you felt like killing him but you didn't want to kill him and you
didn't mean to kill him. Is that correct?"

"I think

so. Yes it is, I think!" Firm and direct.

"So Mrs.

Carter. Did you murder your husband?" Another gasp from the gallery and a
hard look from the female jury members. I could see now where Jane was going,
and going very cleverly.

"Is that

the same as killing him. If it is I suppose I did."

"Let me

try again to clarify things for you Mrs. Carter: to explain the term 'Murder'.
Simply, to murder someone you must either mean to kill them, or not care
whether what you are doing to them will kill them. In legal terms, you must
have malice aforethought, either express, that is you meant to do it, or
implied, that is you didn't care. Does that clarify it for you?"

"Well, I

said I didn't mean to kill him."

"So

there was no 'express malice'?"

"I

suppose not. No."

"OK.

Fine. Now when you picked up the knife. And we will come to that My Lord but it
is not in dispute."

"No Mrs.

Lackington, it isn't, but we must push on when you've finished with the
law." The judge looked down his spectacles at her. She was doing his job
after all, explaining the meaning of the law.

"Of

course My Lord," deferentially, then back to Barbara, "when you
picked up the knife what did you intend to do with it?"

"I don't

know really. I didn't realize it was a knife actually. I reached behind and
felt something then held it between Stephen and me."

"You

didn't intend to stab him with it?"

"No, of

course not."

"So

there was no 'implied malice'?"

"Er. I

don't think so."

"So,

back to my question. Did you murder you husband?"

"Well, I

thought that perhaps I did but now I don't know. I did kill him though." I
was watching the judge and he actually smiled. Good old Jane. Got the judge on
Barbara's side. Her 'innocence' about the law and Jane's manipulation had
showed that she clearly could not be guilty of murder. I looked at the jury and
I was pretty sure that was how they felt as well. Add the that the look of
concern on the face of the prosecution council and I was sure Jane had scored.

"Good,"

said Jane with a satisfied smile. "Now on to the events of Friday. I'm
afraid we're going to have to go through them in detail Mrs. Carter."
Barbara looked apprehensive and I wondered why. I found out! "Can you
begin on Friday morning?"

So Barbara

explained how she had gone to see her friend with the intention of staying Friday
night. At lunch time her friend got called away and Barbara left. She did a bit
of shopping and got to her home about 4 pm.

"Now,

Mrs. Carter, what happened then?"

Barbara

looked uncomfortable. "I went in and heard some noises from the
kitchen."

"What sort

of noises?" Barbara looked embarrassed.

"Groans,"

she said, "groans and grunts I suppose."

"What

did you do?"

"I went

into the kitchen." Barbara looked very apprehensive now and even more
embarrassed but Jane wasn't about to let up. This was all part of her master
plan.

"My

Lord," said Jane deferentially, "I would like to draw the Jury's
attention to the diagram showing the layout of the kitchen and the location of
the doorway."

"Certainly

Mrs. Lackington, I think we are all aware of the plan."

"Thank you

My Lord. What did you see Mrs. Carter?"

Now Barbara

looked really embarrassed. Reluctant to answer the question. She turned to the
Judge, "Must I My Lord?"

"I'm

afraid you must my dear," he said with a soft smile. "It is for your
own good." 'My dear'. He said 'my dear'. Clever that Jane, I was sure the
judge was on Barbara's side.

"I saw

my husband and that girl, Miss Jones." Poor Barbara. She looked something
like a cornered rat because she knew what was coming.

"And

what were they doing?"

"My

Lord," said Barbara pleadingly. The Judge nodded.

"You

must I'm afraid."

She took a

deep breath, "They were 'doing it'."

"Doing

it?"

"You

know, doing it."

"No Mrs.

Carter, I don't know. Nor do the jury. Can you tell us what they were
doing?"

Deep breath,

"They were having sex."

"Oh,

they were having sex. How?"

"I don't

understand?"

"What

position were they in?"

Barbara

looked at the judge again and he nodded. She took a deep breath. "That
girl, Miss Jones, was bent over the kitchen table. He, Stephen that is, was behind
her."

"What

exactly was he, your husband, doing to her?"

"Oh I

can't say. Oh you lordship, I can't." I smiled inwardly. Didn't know why
she couldn't say but I suspected that I'd done it to her in several positions,
including that one on a couple of occasions! But this was open court. How do
you say that your husband was fucking his young bit of stuff up the arse on
your kitchen table?

"I'm

sorry Mrs. Carter but you must."

"No, no,

I can't. Oh you lordship, please." The judge looked down on her sympathetically.

"Mrs.

Lackington, Mr. Peters (the prosecution QC), approach the bench please."
They chattered away for a while until, finally, returning to their respective
positions. "You may lead the witness, Mrs. Lackington, but do not take
liberties!"

A smile and a

nod of the head, "No my Lord, of course not. Now Mrs. Carter. To return to
what your husband was doing to, or indeed with, Miss Jones. Was he having anal
sex with her?" Took a lot to embarrass Jane!

"Er, er,

yes."

"You

could see this?"

"Yes."

"Now Mrs.

Carter, what was the state of your husbands dress?"

Again Barbara

looked cornered but, by now, she knew she had to answer. "His trousers
were undone."

"Were

they down?"

"No just

loose."

"He was

erect?"

"Oh My

Lord!"

"You

must answer the question Mrs. Carter."

She looked

down. "Yes," she managed to say.

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