A Matter for the Jury (7 page)

‘Well, I'm damned,' Arnold said. He stood, lost in thought, for some time, hands on hips. ‘All right, let's detain Sonny Jim overnight. I want to have a word with Jennifer
before we resume the interview, if they will let us. We will drive back to Cambridge later this afternoon, so that we can be there at whatever time the hospital will let us in.'

He turned to face Phillips, who was still rubbing his writing hand, though now more gently.

‘Good news, sir,' Phillips said, smiling.

‘Yes. Makes a nice change, doesn't it?' Arnold replied. ‘Let's hope her luck holds – and ours.'

12

31 January

Jess Farrar stepped
down from the train on to the platform and pulled her overcoat tightly around her body to fend off the chilly wind sweeping through the station. Underneath her coat, her suit and blouse felt rumpled and uncomfortable. The journey had taken more than three hours in an uncomfortable seat; the train's relentless heating had been oppressive rather than comforting; and the sandwich and coffee she had bought in the dining car had been stale and tasteless. She took a deep breath. Perhaps Bettys Tea Rooms would offer something more appetising. Looking around her, Jess found an exit sign and made her way up the stairs and along the bridge that led to the station's main entrance hall. Once outside, she paused briefly, recalling the street plan of York city centre she had memorised earlier. She left the shelter of the station awning, turned left on to Station Road and, with her head down against the wind, made her way as quickly as she could along Museum Street into town. Once over the river, she turned right on Lendal Street, passed the lodgings used by the High Court judges at assize time, and from there left into St Helen's Square, where Bettys occupied a corner of its own.

Jess was not sure that Joan Heppenstall would turn up. She had made the arrangement to meet by phone, after two days of delicate negotiation. At first, she could not get past Joan's father, who advised Jess in no uncertain terms that his daughter was too upset to talk to her and, in any case, did not see why she should; she had been insulted and humiliated enough and wanted nothing more to do with her former fiancé. But Jess had persisted, and eventually he put Joan on the line to speak for herself. Even then, it had been an uphill task. It had taken two further calls to persuade her that Ignatius Little was in a serious situation, and that she ought at least to give him the benefit of some doubt in the matter. Finally, Jess made it clear that Joan had no obligation to give evidence on his behalf; she just wanted to get some background information that might assist in preparing his defence. After much cajoling, Joan had agreed to meet for afternoon tea at Bettys. Jess would not have been surprised if she had changed her mind but, to her relief, Joan was already in the tea room when she arrived. The waitress escorted her through the elegant room to the far corner table at which Joan was seated. They shook hands formally.

‘Did you have any trouble finding your way?'

Joan was very nervous, Jess saw at once. Tearful, too. There was a small embroidered white handkerchief on the table, which looked damp and creased.

‘No, not at all. It is quite an easy walk from the station – if you don't get blown away. Is it always this windy in York?'

‘The wind can be quite strong at this time of year.'

A silence. Joan felt the need to fill the vacuum.

‘Is this your first visit to York, Miss Farrar? I'm sure you told me, but I can't remember. I'm sorry.'

Jess smiled.

‘It's Jess, please, and there is no reason why you should remember. Yes, it is my first visit. It's obviously a beautiful city. I thought I might take a walk around when we've finished, before I go back to the station. I read a little about it in a guide book on the journey. I know there are all sorts of interesting things to see.'

Joan nodded.

‘Most people make straight for the Minster, of course. It's just a couple of minutes' walk along Stonegate.' She waved a hand vaguely towards the wall to her left. ‘But the whole city is beautiful, so many lovely buildings. The Railway Museum is well known, too, of course – if you like that kind of thing.'

A waitress wearing a pristine white apron over a black dress, and a delicate white cap balanced on the front of her head, approached with menus.

‘What do you recommend, Joan?' Jess asked. ‘Is it all right if I call you Joan?'

Joan nodded.

‘They do very good sandwiches and scones, and different kinds of cake. They will bring the cakes around on a trolley so that you can choose.'

Trying to put the railway sandwich out of her mind, Jess closed her menu.

‘I'm going to have a ham sandwich and some tea,' she said decisively. ‘And I will think about the cake later.'

She raised her eyebrows in the direction of the waitress, who was hovering expectantly nearby, and placed her order. The waitress turned to Joan.

‘I'll just have tea, thank you,' she said.

The waitress retreated.

‘My mother makes tea for me every day at five,' Joan said, ‘and she's very proud of her fruit cake. If I spoil my appetite too much I won't hear the last of it for the rest of the day.'

Jess laughed.

‘Ah, so you have a mother like that too, do you? I know exactly what you mean. My mother's speciality is Victoria sponge cake.'

Another silence, but more comfortable this time. Joan was warming to her a little, but she was not yet ready to have the conversation Jess needed to have with her.

‘So, you work in London?' Joan asked. ‘Is that where you're from?'

‘No, I'm a Sussex girl,' Jess replied. ‘My family lives near Hastings. But I've always spent a lot of time in London. My father is a stockbroker; he works in the City. So I'm quite used to London, but I don't think of myself as a Londoner. Perhaps I will after I've lived in town longer.'

‘I don't know any women who are in the law. Isn't it a bit unusual?'

‘Yes, I suppose it is, a bit' Jess agreed. ‘But not as much as it used to be. Things are changing. It's much more open than it used to be.'

‘Did you study law then? Did you go to university?'

The waitress arrived with their tea and Jess's sandwiches. She artfully contrived to arrange tea pot, hot water jug, milk jug, sugar bowl, sandwiches and plates on the small table with barely a fraction of an inch separating them, but without the table seeming cluttered.

Jess took responsibility for pouring the tea.

‘I did go to university, at Bristol,' she said. ‘But I studied history, not law. After I came down I had no idea what I wanted to do. For some reason, the idea of the law came into my head. I'm not quite sure why. It may have been through reading about some sensational trial in the papers, or seeing a film. Anyway, my uncle is a solicitor and, to cut a long story short, I made his life a misery until he agreed to ask a few people he knew whether they were interested in taking on a female historian. Barratt Davis is an old friend of my uncle's and he offered me a job. I've only been with him for a month or two. In fact, to be honest, this is my first solo assignment.'

Joan looked at her thoughtfully.

‘It makes sense that they would send a woman,' she said. ‘Actually, I'm quite relieved that they did.'

Jess nodded.

‘Tell me a bit about your family.'

Joan poured more tea as Jess started on her sandwich.

‘My father is a canon at the Minster,' she said. ‘Before that he was a priest at different churches in and around York, so the church has always been part of my life. My mother was a teacher, but she hasn't worked for a number of years. I have a younger sister, Ellen, who is, well, she can't walk very well. One of her legs doesn't work properly. She was born that way. The doctors don't seem to understand why. She's had several operations, but nothing seems to make it right, so my mother has to take care of her. I help out, of course, whenever I'm at home, but it's still quite a strain for her.'

‘Yes, I'm sure,' Jess said. ‘Tell me, how did you meet Ignatius?'

Joan drained her tea cup and poured more tea for them both before replying.

‘It was through the church, of course. Story of my life. He came up to York for a meeting of ordinands while he was in training at Ridley Hall. My father had them all over to the house one evening for sherry and cakes – very Church of England. I talked to Ignatius…'

Jess suddenly giggled.

‘I'm sorry,' she said. ‘I'm sorry. I don't mean to be rude. But do you really call him Ignatius? It's a bit of a mouthful, isn't it? You must have a…'

To Jess's relief, Joan giggled in return.

‘I call him Iggy,' she said.

‘Iggy?'

‘Yes, but only when he's not around. He's a bit sensitive. He really is an Ignatius by temperament.'

‘Well, I prefer Iggy,' Jess replied.

‘So do I. Well, I talked to Iggy over sherry, but I also talked to all the other ordinands and, I have to say, he didn't make any particular impression on me. But he phoned a day or two later, completely out of the blue, and asked whether he could see me again if he came up to York. I didn't really know what to say. I asked my father about him, but of course, as Iggy was an ordinand, he thought it was a great idea. He would love to see me married to a minister. So I said I would see him if he came to York, which he did. Then I went down to Cambridge to see him there, and that became the pattern, Iggy would come up here, then I would go down there, until he was ordained. It was then that he asked me to marry him. I'd finished my teacher training by then and I was able to get a job at the school at St Ives. So it all worked out well.'

She paused and picked up the handkerchief.

‘Or so I thought.'

The tears came again. She picked up the handkerchief and dried her eyes. Jess finished her sandwich, giving her companion time to compose herself. At length, Joan replaced the handkerchief in her handbag.

‘Look, I know it's not really walking weather,' she said abruptly. ‘But would you mind if we walked around for a while and got some fresh air? Do you need to be inside to make notes?'

‘No, that's fine,' Jess replied. ‘I managed to keep my feet on my way from the station, so I am sure I can do it again. Show me the Minster – from the outside, anyway.'

They paid the bill and walked slowly along Stonegate in the face of wind and light drizzle until the majestic outline of York Minster came into view and, as they got closer, grew ever more imposing until it seemed almost to engulf them. They entered the grounds surrounding the ancient cathedral and stood together under the walls, shielded for the moment from the wind.

‘I know what you want to ask me, Jess,' Joan said.

Jess nodded.

‘I have no reason to believe that Iggy has any… any interest in boys. Of course, I haven't really seen him with boys, except at church when I'm there as well; so I don't really know.'

Jess touched her hand briefly.

‘Joan, I know how difficult this must be for you. I don't want to cause you any more pain than you've suffered already. But I know you understand how serious this is, what it means to Iggy, not just in terms of his future in the ministry, but possibly going to prison and then having to live with a criminal record. So his solicitors and his barrister need to know what they are dealing with. Has he… has he ever said anything, anything at all to make you suspicious?'

Joan turned her head away slightly.

‘No, he's never
said
anything.'

Jess nodded. ‘All right.' She watched Joan carefully. She knew there was more to come, and it was costing her a lot to say it.

‘But…'

She touched Joan's hand again.

‘It's all right.'

Joan turned her head fully away for some moments, before turning back to look Jess full in the face.

‘I can't believe that I'm here, talking about things like this with a complete stranger. But… I don't think he is very interested in me. Sexually, I mean.'

‘You were engaged to be married,' Jess pointed out. ‘Are you saying…?'

Joan folded her arms tightly around her. Suddenly, her resistance melted away.

‘I was assuming that things would be different once we were married,' she said. ‘I'm sure that was very naive of me. But you must understand, in my family there was never any discussion about sex. It's not the kind of thing you talk about in a church family.'

Jess smiled.

‘It's not the kind of thing you talk about in most families,' she said. ‘It was the same with my parents.'

‘I got the usual platitudes about marriage and how wonderful it all is,' Joan said, ‘but not much information about what to actually expect. But I can't blame my parents. I'm an adult. All the signs were there, and I didn't pay attention.'

‘What signs?' Jess asked quietly.

Joan took a deep breath.

‘Obviously, in our situation, there was no question of sex before marriage. Not the done thing, of course. But we had time alone together and I thought: he must have desires and… well, I didn't see any harm in relieving the pressure occasionally, so to speak. I'm not totally ignorant about the mechanics of sex, you know. I'd been out with another boy a few times. So I… I tried rubbing his… his… you know, his penis; through his trousers at first. He seemed to like it. I mean, he would kiss me and swear his undying love and so on, and he would give my breasts a squeeze. But that was it. He never became really hard at all. The only time he seemed excited was once when I actually unbuttoned his flies and took it out. I think that gave him a thrill, because he did get hard that time, and after I had played with him he even managed to… you know… ejaculate all over my fingers. I felt good about that, but it took a very long time, and he never asked me to do it again. So, in all honesty, I don't know what to think.'