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Gina had taken five minutes before the start of the session to update Dame Margaret about her mystery mailings, but the experienced judge did not feel that they in any way prejudiced the inquiry, as there was no evidence to suggest they had been sent by one of the witnesses. However, she did agree that it was worth notifying the police and at least logging the incidents, should there be any escalation in the level of intimidation.
Broaching the subject had helped Gina’s state of mind to some degree, but it seemed as if the Fates were conspiring to make life difficult for her. In addition to her own personal distressing start to the week, the day had been mired with problems. Firstly, there had been a fifteen-minute power cut caused by workmen who were renovating the cathedral. One of the relatives of a resident of SEKare had been so nervous when he gave evidence that they had to keep stopping to allow him to compose herself. Dame Margaret did everything to foster a supportive environment and eventually, the witness relaxed and the trembling became less noticeable.
‘Mr Gorton, please tell us your impressions of Stour View and the concerns you had about it,’ began Gina.
As the witness stumbled through his testimony, Gina felt like taking over and simply reading out his statement. However, the written report had lacked some detail, and there were points which she wanted to clarify and be minuted. All through his replies, her mind tried to stray back to the recent events, particularly the most recent one. Her life seemed to be travelling along a sine wave, once she reached a position of equilibrium at the top of the crest, she soon found herself on a downward trajectory. It was too late to turn back now, and she personally refused to be cowed but just at that moment, her confidence had deserted her. Someone had her within the cross-hairs of their sight and appeared to be ramping up their pressure upon her. It was an uncomfortable feeling and not one she had experienced before.
‘Thank you, Mr Gorton, you have been most helpful. That is all I wish to ask you.’
Gina had completed the questioning of the witness and was conscious that it was perfunctory and not up to her usual standard but her capacity for compassion that day was being severely tested, as she felt irritable and unable to stop her mind from replaying the opening of her parcel.
The inquiry had resumed after the mid-morning break, then after only ten minutes, the attendees had to evacuate to the courtyard, due to the fire alarm activating. Though it was a false alarm, they still had to wait for what seemed like an age for the fire inspection team to certify that the building was safe to re-enter. Thus, another thirty minutes was wasted.
‘Mrs Fagin, here is your witness statement,’ said Gina, handing over the pages to the rather overweight, middle-aged woman from the Care Quality Commission. The woman’s plumpness was emphasised by her hair which was pulled back from her face and fastened tightly in a bun on top of her head, exposing her double chin and fat neck.
‘You are the senior manager responsible for the monitoring of Social Care across the south-east including residential care homes. Please, could you summarise the problems you encountered upon your inspection of Stour View.’
‘We visited Stour View on 23rd April 2018....’ Mrs Fagin continued, her account being delivered in a professional manner. She required only an occasional prompt from Gina, which was fortuitous as the barrister’s mind continued to wander from the subject in hand. Her thought processes were analysing the account she was going to give to the police. A few seconds pause from the witness brought her back rudely to the present time, and she quickly moved on to the next question.
‘Finally, Mrs Fagin, perhaps you could take us through the CQC’s five-year plan, 2016-2021, with particular emphasis on how it relates to care homes and the elderly and vulnerable.’
‘I prepared a document for circulation and submitted it to the inquiry,’ said Mrs Fagin.
Gina’s memory had suddenly deserted her.
‘Ms Overton?’ asked Dame Margaret. ‘Please, would you circulate the sheets to the inquiry. I think it will help us to have the document to consult.’
Gina fumbled with the piles of papers on her desk. ‘Julius, where are they?’ she whispered.
‘I gave them to your chambers last week.’
‘My apologies,’ said Gina. The wait seemed interminable then she spotted the necessary folder. For some reason, her mind had changed the colour of the enclosure she was searching for.
‘Here they are,’ she said, feeling acutely embarrassed.
After another thirty minutes of discussion about Mrs Fagin’s testimony led by Gina accompanied by interjections from Simeon Fairbrother, the afternoon session was over. Gina’s public presentation had been lacklustre, to say the least, and although it might not have been noticeable to others, she wasn’t satisfied at all in her performance. As she collected up her belongings, she imagined that the murmurings from the relatives would be criticism of herself. Of course, they were doubtless discussing mundane matters such as the traffic, bus times or whether to visit the shops. Without saying goodbye to her legal team, she headed straight out of the auditorium to collect the parcel from her office and walk across the city to the police station.
**
Trish was waiting in Fenwick rather later than initially planned, as she’d received a text first thing in the morning from Sue telling her about a burst pipe. Their meeting was now for an afternoon cup of tea rather than morning coffee.
‘Hi, Trish,’ said a voice from behind as she was looking at the bedding, which was on the second floor, the same as The Eatery Restaurant.
‘Oh, hi, you crept up on me! I’ve been keeping an eye out on the escalators.
‘I got the lift. Sometimes I feel a bit dizzy on escalators. You look well,’ she said, appraising her friend. ‘I, on the other hand, look about ninety.’
‘No you don’t, you look just the same.’
‘You wouldn’t say that if I whipped off this scarf! I look like a golf ball.’
‘Well, what would the golf ball like to drink? Tea or coffee?’
‘Tea, please. I’ll go and find a seat if you don’t mind?’ laughed Sue.
Trish joined the queue which was quite short, and soon she had her drinks along with a Danish pastry for them to share. Despite Sue’s assurances, she had been shocked to see her friend looking so wan and drawn. She scanned the seating area to see that she had chosen a table towards the back of the restaurant where only a couple of other tables were occupied.
‘There we are. I couldn’t resist temptation,’ she said, placing the pastry between them.
‘Just a small piece for me. I don’t have much of an appetite.’
They continued to chat about their respective lives, comfortable in each other’s presence.
