Brothers In Law (19 page)

She beamed at her son, and waved her hand slightly.

Roger went red in the face. He adored his mother and hated to hurt her feelings, but it was very difficult to smile. And, of course, he couldn't wave. He turned round to see if people had noticed his mother waving to him. On his right was Joy where he had put her. On his left were Sally and her mother. He only had a moment to consider whose double dealing – as it must have appeared – was the worse, his or Sally's. But bringing her mother was really too bad. But now what was he to do about his own mother? The jury were about to be sworn. When was he to tell the judge? And in what language? How awful to have to get up and say, ‘The lady's my mother,' like Strephon in
Iolanthe
. ‘I suppose I'd better do it at once,' he said to himself, and very unhappily rose and looked at the judge, who simply shook his head at him and waved him to sit down. He did not feel he could speak to his next-door neighbour. It sounded too absurd. Being called by his Christian name at school was nothing. Oh, dear, this is a nice way to start. Will I ever recover? he thought. Now they were swearing the jury. He must do something. He got up again. The judge looked at him angrily. Even a layman should know that the swearing of the jury must not be interrupted. Applications could be made after they had been sworn. Here, was a member of the Bar not only getting up when he ought to have waited, but getting up again after he'd been told to sit down. He really must be taught a lesson.

‘Yes, what is it?' he snapped to Roger. ‘If you don't know the rules ask someone who does. I've told you to wait once.'

Roger remained standing, waiting to speak.

‘Will you please sit down,' said the judge.

‘My Lord, I want to mention–' began Roger.

‘I've told you to wait,' said the judge. All right, if the young man wanted it he should have it. He turned his body slightly towards counsel's seats.

‘In this Court,' he said, ‘where I have had the honour to preside for a good many years I have never yet seen counsel behave in this shocking manner. Justice could not be administered at all unless directions from the Bench were observed by the Bar. Until this moment, I have never known–'

Roger had had as much as he could stand and subsided, his face scarlet.

‘Thank you,' said the judge. ‘Thank you very much. I am very much obliged. Now perhaps the swearing of the jury can be continued.'

Although the jury could in this particular case have all been sworn at once, it is the practice at the Old Bailey to swear them separately. In due course it became Mrs Thursby's turn. It must be right to object. His client had been told that he must object when the jurors came to the Book to be sworn. Now was the time. He had a good mind to leave his mother on the jury. But then he supposed he'd be disbarred. Fearless integrity, the Treasurer of his Inn had said. That was all very well for him. He'd never had his mother on the jury. Well, he must do it, but there's nothing fearless about it, he said to himself. I'm terrified. He got up again. The judge could not have believed it possible. He was a choleric man, equally capable of bestowing immense and undeserved praise in fantastically flattering terms and of – figuratively – spitting like two cats. This time the cats had it.

‘I do not know your name,' he began, thinking hard for the most offensive words he could find, ‘but that,' he went on, ‘in view of your extraordinary behaviour I do not find altogether surprising. Will you now do me the personal favour of resuming your seat. Otherwise I shall be under the painful duty of reporting you to your Benchers before whom it cannot have been very long ago that you appeared to be called to the Bar.'

As Roger still remained on his feet, waiting to speak, but not liking to interrupt the judge, from whom words poured steadily at him in a vitriolic stream, the judge said: ‘I order you to sit down.'

Roger did as he was told and, from where he sat, said loudly and clearly – as though it were the last cry of a man about to be executed: ‘I object to the next juror. She's my mother.'

There was an immediate and thrilling silence. It was broken by Mr Green.

‘I don't, my Lord. In fact I like the look of the lady.'

‘You be quiet,' said the judge, and thought for several seconds. During the time he had had the honour to preside in that Court he had seldom had to think for so long before making a decision. Eventually he tapped his desk with a pencil and asked the clerk for Roger's name. Then he spoke: ‘Mr Thursby,' he began.

Roger did not know whether to get up or not. He'd been ordered to sit down. It would be contempt of Court to get up. Yet somehow when the judge was addressing him it seemed all wrong to remain seated. He did not know what to do until his next-door neighbour whispered.

‘Get up. The old fool's going to apologize.'

Roger took the advice and was relieved to find that he was not immediately ordered to sit down – indeed if the judge had told two warders to throw him to the ground he would not have been altogether surprised.

‘Mr Thursby,' repeated the judge in dulcet tones after Roger had risen, ‘I owe you a very humble apology, and I hope you will see fit to accept it. I am extremely sorry. By my haste I have placed you in a position which would have been horribly embarrassing for any member of the Bar and which for one of – if I may say so without offence – your limited experience must have been almost beyond bearing. You dealt with the situation with a courage and a patience which I shall long remember.'

A lump came into Roger's throat, and it was all he could do to prevent himself from breaking down. He tried to say: ‘Thank you, my Lord,' but very little was heard of it and he sat down and looked at his knees. The judge then turned to Mrs Thursby.

‘You had better leave the jury box, madam. I owe you an apology too, and I should like to say that you have every reason for being proud of your son.'

To someone like Peter this would have been simply splendid. But it made Roger feel distinctly sick. And then he thought of all the people listening to him. Sally, Joy, Sally's mother and his own. Not to mention all the rest of those in Court. He felt as he had felt after boxing at school and being roundly trounced by a bigger boy, when the headmaster came up to him and said in a loud voice: ‘Plucky boy.'

It sent shivers down his back. He wondered if this sort of thing happened to everyone. They couldn't often have barrister's mothers on the jury at all, let alone in cases where their sons were engaged. Another juryman was sworn. The judge scribbled a note which the usher brought to Roger. It said:

So very sorry. I shall be so pleased if you will bring your mother to see me during the adjournment. S K.

Roger did not know whether to answer it in writing or by bowing. He asked his neighbour.

‘What do I do with this?'

‘Just bow and grin.'

He did as he was told. The judge smiled back at him. The jury had now been sworn and were informed of the charge against the prisoner. They were told he had pleaded Not Guilty and that it was for them to say whether he was Guilty or not.

Counsel for the prosecution opened the case quite shortly and called as his first witness the man who had bought the toffee. His name was Blake. He was duly asked about his purchase from Mr Green and about the false reference.

‘Would you have sent the money if you had not believed this document to be a genuine reference?'

‘No.'

The moment arrived for Roger to cross-examine.

‘You remember seeing the reference, I suppose?' he asked.

‘Certainly.'

‘Did you have any other letters about the same time?'

‘Letters? Yes, of course.'

‘From the defendant, I mean?'

‘From the defendant? Only the one offering me the toffee.'

‘How long was that before you received the reference?'

‘Two or three weeks.'

‘Quite sure?'

‘Yes, I think so.'

That's what Henry meant, thought Roger. I shouldn't have asked that last question.

‘Two to three weeks?' repeated Roger.

‘Yes,' said Mr Blake.

This time Roger left it alone.

‘Now, Mr Blake, you say you received the reference before you sent the money. Are you quite sure of that?'

‘Certainly. Look at the date. The 20th. I sent the money on the 23rd. I must have received the reference on the 21st.'

‘Got the envelope by any chance?'

‘I don't keep envelopes.'

‘So you're relying on your memory entirely?'

‘Certainly not entirely. On the date on the reference as well.'

‘So that if it hadn't had that date on it you wouldn't have known whether you sent the money before or after you received the reference?'

‘I certainly would have. I sent it after I had the reference – what's the point of being offered a reference if you don't wait for it?'

‘Does this in any way shake your recollection?' asked Roger holding up the receipt for posting to be handed to the witness. Mr Blake looked at it.

‘Well?' he said.

‘Does that shake your recollection at all?' asked Roger.

‘Not in the least,' said the witness. ‘It's just a receipt for posting a letter.'

‘To you.'

‘What of it?'

‘It was given to the prisoner.'

‘How do I know?'

‘What is this document?' asked the judge. ‘Let me look at it.' It was handed to the judge who looked at it closely. ‘This is dated the 24th,' he said. ‘It shows that a letter was posted to you on that date by someone.'

‘Yes, my Lord,' said the witness.

‘Well,' said the judge, ‘it apparently came into the possession of the prisoner and if it was issued to him by the post office it shows that he posted a letter to you on the 24th.'

‘Yes, my Lord?' said Mr Blake.

‘Well – you've said that he only sent you one letter and that was two or three weeks before you received the reference.'

‘Possibly I was wrong, my Lord.'

‘Possibly anything,' said the judge, ‘but what counsel very properly puts to you is this. If that receipt was issued to the prisoner are you still prepared to swear positively that you received the reference before, you sent the money?'

‘I must have, my Lord.'

‘Then how is this receipt to be accounted for?'

‘I can't tell you that, my Lord, unless I had another letter from the prisoner. I suppose I might have.'

‘But you can't remember one?'

‘I can't say that I do, my Lord. Possibly, my Lord, the prisoner got it from someone else.'

‘Whom do you suggest?'

‘I have no idea, my Lord. All I know is that I was offered a reference and, if I'm offered a reference, I'm sure I wouldn't send the money without getting it first. I know something about this mail order business.'

‘You mean you've been cheated before?' said Roger all too quickly.

‘Steady,' said Mr Green.

‘Be quiet and behave yourself,' said the judge. ‘Your case is being conducted admirably. It is a model of what such a cross-examination should be. Perhaps, Mr Thursby,' he added, ‘that last question could be rephrased.'

‘Have you in the past been cheated?'

‘I have.'

‘Toffee?' asked Roger with a flash of inspiration.

‘Yes, as a matter of fact,' said the witness.

‘You've a sweet tooth?' asked Roger.

‘Well, I have as a matter of fact.'

‘You like toffee, apparently?'

‘I don't see why I should be ashamed of it,' said Mr Blake.

‘No one's suggesting you should be,' said the judge. ‘Counsel only wishes to establish the fact that you are fond of toffee.'

‘Well, I am,' said Mr Blake, ‘and I don't mind admitting it.'

‘P'raps you decided not to bother about a reference on this occasion and chanced sending the money?'

The witness did not answer.

‘Well,' said the judge, ‘what do you say to that?'

‘I suppose it's possible,' said Mr Blake, ‘but I don't think so.'

‘It could have happened?' said the judge.

‘I suppose so,' said Mr Blake reluctantly.

Eventually the case for the prosecution closed.

‘Yes, Mr Thursby,' said the judge pleasantly. ‘Are you going to open your case to the jury?'

What is this? thought Roger. He's inviting me to make two speeches. But I can't do that, surely. Henry said I couldn't, and I'm sure that's what it said in the book. But here he is inviting me to do so. It'll look rude if I don't accept his offer. He's being so nice to me. I mustn't offend him. P'raps it's a sort of consolation prize. Oh – well, here goes.

‘If your Lordship pleases,' said Roger. ‘May it please your Lordship, members of the jury, the evidence for the prosecution has been completed and it now becomes my duty to open the defence.'

How professional it sounded, thought Roger, as he said it. At that moment the judge suddenly realized that he might have misled Roger.

‘Forgive me, Mr Thursby,' he said, ‘but I assume that you are calling evidence in addition to the prisoner?'

‘Oh, no, my Lord.'

‘Well then,' said the judge, ‘you can't have two speeches, you know. You address the jury afterwards.'

Well, I knew that, thought Roger. What's he want to make a ruddy fool of me for? Everybody will think I don't know a thing. Well, they're quite right but I don't want it advertised every moment. All right, here goes again.

‘If your Lordship pleases. Mr Green, will you go into the witness box, please?'

‘Certainly,' said Mr Green. ‘With pleasure,' and he came out of the dock, and went into the box to be sworn. Roger asked him the necessary questions about himself and then asked: ‘Who wrote the reference which was sent to Mr Blake?'