The man behind the counter nodded her to a spiral staircase in the center of the lobby. "Court three," he said. "Up to the top."
Her knees were trembling as she climbed the stairs but she thought of Ella lying on the cold metal trolley in the makeshift chapel and took hold of the handrail firmly, pulling herself up. The door to the court was locked and the claimants had to wait on soft chairs in the corridor, facing one another, watching for their adversaries to come and sit next to them. An old man across from Maureen, dressed in his best cheap suit, scraped the sweat from his palms with the edge of an underground ticket. A woman next to him was twitching and being comforted by her tarty daughter in a pink plastic skirt and white vest top. Everyone had their papers with them, held in folders or envelopes, some with crumpled letters from the court, folded to fit into a pocket. Maureen sat down and watched the stairs. At exactly two thirty a small man in a blue uniform unlocked the door from the inside, pinning it open into the corridor.
The court was partitioned off into concentric circles by low wooden walls. In the center of the room stood a large, highly polished table with wigged and gowned lawyers sitting around it, speaking quietly to one another and looking through papers. The lawyers' strange outfits made them look like the perpetrators of a bizarre practical joke. Below the judge's bench, sitting alone, was a young woman with silver-rimmed glasses and a dark, sleek bob showing beneath her white wig. Surrounding the table was a low wooden partition wall with areas for hemming in the public, the jury and, farthest away and higher than everyone else, the judge's big fancy chair.
The man in the blue uniform told the public to sit down in the two rows of benches near the door. Maureen tried to get in first in case Si turned up and she had to sit near him, but everyone wanted to sit there. She had to settle for a seat next to the aisle. When they were all sitting down the bobbed woman lawyer explained that she was the clerk of the court. As their cases were called, she said, they were to stand up and come through the little partition gate to the big table and wait to be asked about the details.
"Only answer questions from the sheriff and only speak through the sheriff. Do not speak to each other while the sheriff is dealing with your case, is that clear?"
They nodded dumbly, and the blue man went off through a side door. The tarty girl giggled about something and her mother huffed in dismay. Maureen was watching them when, out of the corner of her eye, she saw a tall, slim woman slip in from the corridor and sit three benches back. She was wearing a smart gray trouser suit with a pale slate scarf. She settled her expensive leather handbag on her knee, her gaze focused on air. It was Tonsa. She didn't look around, didn't try to find anyone among the crowd, but Maureen knew that Tonsa was there to warn her.
The usher came back out of the side door, told them all to stand up and the sheriff came in. He walked along the back row and sat down. The usher told them all they could sit down now, and they did.
Maureen looked around at the public benches. Everyone was frightened and apprehensive, not knowing what was going to happen next or what was expected of them. The sheriff called the first case and they relaxed back into their chairs as they realized it wasn't them. Two of the lawyers in the central pen stood up and told the sheriff that they were representing the respective parties to the case. They all muttered to one another and the sheriff read for a bit and told them to come back later. The bobbed clerk read through her papers and gave them a date. After a short read the sheriff called another case. The nervous mother with the tarty daughter leaped to her feet and turned this way and that, looking terrified. The usher beckoned her through the little partition and she stood at the table with the lawyers and waited expectantly while the sheriff read through the notes. The woman was shaking. Even the skin on her back seemed to be trembling under her nylon blouse. Behind Maureen the woman's tarty daughter giggled unhelpfully and told the man next to her to look, look at the state of her. When the sheriff finally asked her a question the nervous woman looked as if she might go into spasm. The sheriff asked if the other party was represented. One of the lawyers said he was there on behalf of someone or other. The sheriff told them to come back later and the clerk gave them a date.
This long and tedious process continued. Maureen was getting increasingly anxious. Tonsa wasn't looking at her: she was staring blindly ahead, not fidgeting like the other members of the public, sitting still like a snake laying a trap. Maureen looked her over. Her face was blank. She blinked, making Maureen jump and turn back to the court, afraid she had been spotted.
As she watched it became obvious that the sheriff hadn't read any of the papers and was so disinterested that all he could do was put the cases off for two weeks. Another set of disappointed people came back to their seats in the public benches, and she felt a gentle tap on her shoulder. Kilty was standing behind her, nudging along the bench to sit down. "Hiya," said Maureen, unreasonably excited in the circumstances.
"I skived off my work," whispered Kilty.
"I'm glad," said Maureen, happily looking around now that her pal was with her.
Ella's case was called. Maureen looked at Tonsa, expecting her to stand up and go to the table. Tonsa didn't move. The case was called again and Maureen stood up, trembling, and made her way through the partition to the table, embarrassed because Tonsa was watching her. One of the lawyers sidled up next to her with an impressive bundle of papers and leaned on the table with his fingertips, turning the knuckles white. The sheriff looked up at Maureen over his glasses and through force of habit she smiled at him. He did not smile back. He went back to reading the papers. "Are you representing Mr. Simon McGee?" he asked eventually.
The lawyer next to her nodded. "Yes, Your Honor."
"And you," – he looked at Maureen again – "are you Mrs. Ella McGee?"
"No," said Maureen, and found her voice ridiculously nervous and squeaky. "I'm a friend of Mrs. McGee. I've come to tell you that Mrs. McGee-"
"Wait, "interrupted the sheriff, "until! ask you."
"But she can't be here because-"
"You will wait until I ask you, "said the sheriff.
Maureen shook her head in frustration and looked at the lawyer next to her. "She's dead," she whispered to him. "What's the point in him reading the papers?"
The lawyer gestured for her to wait. After pointedly reading the notes for an inordinately long time, the sheriff looked up at Maureen as if it were she who had kept him waiting.
"I'm afraid Mrs. McGee's dead," said Maureen. "She died earlier this week."
"You cannot bring an action if Mrs. McGee has died," said the sheriff, with forced patience. "The action falls with her death."
"I don't want to bring the case," said Maureen, angry at his patronizing manner. "I just came here as a courtesy to tell you that she was dead."
The lawyers around the table smiled. The sheriff smirked at them, then turned sternly back at Maureen. He nodded back to the public benches. "Sit down."