‘By taking a life?’
‘That is right.’
‘How many women die every year as a result of domestic violence in this country?’ says Mr Cromer.
‘Around a hundred.’
‘Presumably, though, it is rarer among educated people, people without significant social disadvantage?’ he says.
‘No, that’s a myth. Domestic violence affects all sectors of society, all races, all classes.’
‘Is there any link between pregnancy and domestic violence?’ Mr Cromer says.
‘Yes. We estimate that up to thirty per cent of abuse begins in pregnancy, and it is common for abuse to get worse during pregnancy. The British Journal of Obstetrics and Gynaecology reports that one in six pregnant women will experience domestic violence.’
‘And if the victim was seeing less of friends and family, cancelling plans, but maintained that all was well?’ says Mr Cromer.
‘Again consistent with the abuse. Warning signs, in fact. Withdrawal of contact with outside relationships suits the abuser; isolating the victim adds to his domination, and denial is extremely common.’
‘One question.’ Miss Dixon gets to her feet. ‘Do people ever make false allegations of domestic violence?’
‘Yes, that happens. Though it is very rare compared to the prevalence of verified allegations.’
‘Why would anyone do that?’ says Miss Dixon.
‘There are many reasons. To attract sympathy or attention, to punish a partner, sometimes to disguise their own role as the abuser, so they can explain away any injuries acquired when they beat someone by saying they were the victim.’
You wouldn’t. Surely you would not accuse Lizzie of abusing you? We don’t know yet. We don’t know what the props of your defence will be beyond ‘It wasn’t me!’ and I reason that if you’re claiming innocence, you will deny any prior violence.
Rebecca comes to visit that evening. She can barely sit still, so incensed is she at the experience of being mauled by your barrister. ‘She made out like I was inventing it all. Because I was jealous of Jack. That is so fucking mental.’ She jolts to a stop and casts a guilty glance my way. I smile and shake my head. Swearing is irrelevant.
‘She made me out to be some loser, flaky, unreliable. Did the jury believe me?’
‘I don’t know.’ I find it impossible to read those twelve faces. Not that they are expressionless; far from it. They exhibit surprise, concern, interest, repulsion and sometimes boredom. Would Lizzie have found it easier, with her expertise in nonverbal communication? Could she have told from the body language who was favouring who?
Walking on eggshells. Did she have to do that? Placate you, play nice, alert to the slightest shift in tension. How long had it been going on? From the start, before the marriage? From her first pregnancy?
‘When she told you about it, did Lizzie say if it was the first time he had done it?’
‘No. I assumed it was,’ Rebecca says. ‘I’ve got to go back to London tomorrow. I wish I could stay, but I can’t take any more time off. If he gets away with it…’ She chews her lip and tears spring to her eyes. ‘If only I’d told someone.’
‘She’d probably have denied it,’ I say. Though I wish Rebecca had told me. If I’d been alerted, put it together with the fact that I was seeing less of Lizzie, could I have done anything? Were we all gradually being excluded? Were you steadily cutting the ties to make her ever more dependent on you?
‘If only I’d rung her, made more of an effort,’ Rebecca says. The agony of hindsight.
‘You’re not to blame. Not at all. Don’t think like that. There’s only one person in the dock. Yeah?’
She brings out the spotted hanky again. ‘Yes.’ Dissolving into tears.
I go and rub her back. I miss Lizzie. The physical hunger shows no sign of diminishing. Those brief embraces we had of late, one hand pressed on the shoulder, a kiss on the cheek, the tickle of her hair as we separated. The vibration of her laughter in the air.
Ruth
CHAPTER SIX
17 Brinks Avenue
Manchester
M19 6FX
Your first defence witness is another actor; there’s a ripple of interest in court as people recognize him. Joshua Corridge. He’s done better than you: a stint in Emmerdale, a regular guest actor on prime-time shows like Spooks and Midsomer Murders (how apt). He’s prettier, into the bargain. He’s worked on adverts, which you once told me was where the serious money was. If word gets out, there will be fans besieging the building, begging for autographs, clutching pens, baring their arms or stomachs. There’s a fashion nowadays for people to get a tattoo where a name’s been scrawled on their skin. Celebrity gone mad. I’ve never met Joshua.
‘Please tell us how you know Mr Tennyson,’ Miss Dixon says.
‘We met at drama school, LAMDA; we became friends and ended up sharing a flat together.’ His voice has a rich, syrupy tone which is perfect for selling cars and perfume.
‘You’ve kept in touch?’
‘Oh yes. We get together if I’m working here or if Jack’s in London.’ He looks across at you, frank, open-faced, a brief smile. Demonstrating his trust and regard.
‘How would you describe Mr Tennyson?’
‘A regular guy, straightforward, hard-working, a good mate.’
‘Have you ever known him to be violent?’
‘No.’ Joshua laughs at the question. ‘Never,’ he adds more steadily.
‘You knew Mrs Tennyson?’ says Miss Dixon.
‘Yes, through Jack.’
‘Did you ever spend time with Lizzie and Jack Tennyson?’ says Miss Dixon.
‘Oh yes. Me and my fiancée. We’d make up a foursome. Not so much since Florence came along.’
‘And how would you describe the relationship between Jack and Lizzie Tennyson?’
‘A perfect fit,’ he says. ‘They loved each other, anyone could see that.’
‘Did Mr Tennyson ever talk to you about any worries or concerns he had?’
‘About work,’ Joshua says. ‘It’s a tough business; most of us are out of work ninety per cent of the time. It can get you down.’
‘When did Mr Tennyson discuss this with you?’ Miss Dixon says.
‘The last time we met, Easter last year.’
‘Was Mr Tennyson depressed?’
‘No, nothing like that; just a bit frustrated, but no more than anyone else would be,’ Joshua says.
‘Did he ever express any concerns about his marriage, or his relationship with his wife?’
‘No. They were fine. She was a keeper,’ he says. The phrase rings false given what happened. He hears it. ‘I mean, they seemed so right for each other, they were very happy.’
The press people are busy with their phones, sending messages no doubt about the star in the witness box.
‘When you heard that Mrs Tennyson had been killed, what did you do?’ says Miss Dixon.
‘I tried to get in touch with Jack, to tell him how sorry I was, to see if I could help in any way, but the police had his phone and it took me a while to contact him.’
‘And what was your reaction when you learned he had been charged with the crime?’ says Miss Dixon.
‘Gobsmacked, really. It’s just totally unbelievable. So far out of character. It didn’t add up. Anyone who knows him will say the same.’
Then it is Mr Cromer’s turn.
‘You’ve been successful in your line of work?’ Mr Cromer says.
‘Yes, I’ve been lucky.’
‘Is it just a question of luck?’
‘Not just luck; you have to be good at the job, but there is an element of right place right time,’ Joshua says.
‘Would you say Mr Tennyson had the same talent, the same level of skill as you?’