‘M’Lord, gentlemen of the jury. This witness has been presented to you by the prosecution as a woman of courage – and no one doubts that; after all, she was awarded the Albert Medal for bravery during the Great War. She is also a woman who has known great sorrow – yes, to lose a beloved husband and a child, that is sorrow. And finally, she is presented as a woman wronged by my client, Shamus McMahon. It is this that I will bring into question. I will present to you a very different woman and one who is not, in my opinion, a credible witness.’
Ella’s heart thudded against her chest and her mouth dried. Yes, she had been warned that the defence would try and discredit her, but what tactic would they use? What did he mean? Why am I not credible?
‘Mrs McMahon, did you not coerce my client to go to Poland with you to steal your sister’s child?’
A gasp could be heard rippling around the court. The prosecution lawyer, who had been very gentle with her, had a look of horror and disbelief on his face. Ella hadn’t mentioned anything about her child to him – at least not what she’d been through, or what she had done to get him back.
‘He is my child!’
‘Can you show us his birth certificate?’
Ella stared at the defence lawyer, a man in his forties, short and dumpy-looking, with a shock of red hair; he had a spiteful look about him, and was always ready to pounce and wound.
‘Well, Mrs McMahon?’
‘No. My child was born in Poland.’
‘And is it not true that the papers you do have for him are false?’
Ella couldn’t swallow. Her tongue felt like sandpaper. ‘Yes, but—’
‘There are no “buts”, Mrs McMahon. The child you have in your possession, and whom you coerced my client into snatching from his mother and father, is your sister’s child. I have a copy of the original and correct birth registration, given to me by your very distraught sister – my Exhibit A for this witness, M’Lord. There is also a translation document included with the exhibit.’
‘Paulo is my baby. I went to Poland to give birth to him. I was forced to hand him over to my half-sister. I had to snatch him back!’
‘If he is your child, can you tell us the name of the doctor in attendance on you during your pregnancy?’
‘No. I – I couldn’t afford to go to a doctor. I am a nurse, and I looked after myself. But nearly every witness who has spoken today saw me when I was pregnant.’
‘They saw you pregnant, or at least you told many people that you were pregnant, but they all say you didn’t look far gone. They will also tell this court that they didn’t see the end result of that pregnancy. They will say that you suddenly disappeared after your husband died, and the next thing they knew, you were married to Mr McMahon and living the life of a lady. I put it to you, Mrs McMahon, that you miscarried the child you were carrying, and understandably were distraught. You had been through so much. Then to hear that your sister had given birth to a healthy child set your mind, which was unhinged at the time, due to the tragedy you had experienced, on having your sister’s child as your own.’
‘No!’
‘I think yes. Because that wouldn’t just satisfy your need for a child, but would also give you the revenge you sought.’
‘Objection, M’Lord. This witness is not on trial.’
‘M’Lord, I am trying to establish that the witness is not credible. That she is a liar. A baby-snatcher, who used my client for her own ends. Who flirted with him while her own husband was dying, and who moved in with him very soon after he did die. And finally, when she did get revenge, she wanted to get out of the marriage, and so she began an affair with another man. Which led to the events that my client stands accused of.’
‘Your client stands accused of much more than the events that Mrs McMahon is witness to. But yes, I will allow the questioning, as it seems another crime may have been committed here.’
‘M’Lord, I strongly object and ask for an adjournment.’
‘On what grounds?’
‘M’Lord, I was not informed about this line of questioning. My witness has not discussed her child with me. I need a chance to bring counter-evidence and be able to prove that my client is telling the truth, and that all her actions at the time were driven by the terrible threat of what might happen to her friend, whose testimony you heard earlier.’
‘A black woman, M’Lord. We heard the testimony of a black woman.’ This drawl from the defence lawyer lit up the court with mutterings, and it seemed everyone had something to say. Ella glanced up at Rowena, who was sitting in the public gallery. Her head was lowered. Ella wanted to scream out that Rowena was the kindest, most honest person she had ever met, but at this moment she herself looked like a criminal – a baby-snatcher – and nothing she said would have any bearing on anyone or anything.
The judge banged his gavel on the counter in front of him. ‘Silence. Silence in court! I will not have my court disrupted! We will adjourn. The court will reconvene tomorrow at nine a.m. Warden, take the prisoner down, and present him once more at that time.’
‘All rise.’
As the judge left, Ella felt all eyes on her. It was as if she was the accused now. How am I to convince everyone? I have no proof. That lawyer must have been in touch with Calek, to have been able to present the birth-registration document. God knows what she told him. Sinking down on the bench behind her, Ella felt fear reverberate through her body. What if I am prosecuted? Oh God!
The prosecution lawyer, a tall man with dark hair greying at the temples and a long angular face, stared at her across his desk. ‘Everything you say sounds true, but it will need verifying in some way. And if we manage that, it still does not put you in a good light. You will be seen as a woman who sold her child, settled down with her new husband and didn’t seem to have a care in the world. Who then coerced that husband into snatching her baby back. Yes, there was the threat against your friend, which might excuse some of your actions; but you didn’t give your baby away for his own safety, you used him as a bargaining tool to get money. I understand that you needed that money to get your friend to safety, but your actions after that, concerning snatching the baby back, well . . . And then we do have to face the fact that the only other witness to the threat is an immigrant woman.’
‘Why should that make Rowena any different from any other witness? She is a good, kind, Christian woman and would never lie under oath.’
‘I agree. And I hate the implication that my learned friend threw into the proceedings, but we have to be realistic: most people are prejudiced against black people. In their minds, they are not to be trusted. It is appalling, but it’s a fact. We have to face it, Mrs McMahon: you have been discredited; and further to that, you may face losing your child and being prosecuted for kidnapping.’
Ella began to shake. Her whole body trembled uncontrollably.
Arnie took her hand. ‘There must be a way, sir, of making Ella’s sister testify and tell the truth.’
‘If there is, I don’t know of it. A Polish national cannot be subpoenaed under British law. You should know that. Haven’t you just taken your finals in law?’
‘I have, and yes, I do know. I was speaking out of desperation. I know Ella is telling the truth, and I’m feeling the frustration of not being able to prove it.’
‘That is a frustration you will have many times in your career, Arnold. So often you will know a truth, but be unable to prove it. You will even see clients go to the gallows when you know them to be innocent. In that, you and I differ, as I often have the duty to prove that the apparently innocent are guilty. We do our jobs. We fight for justice. Never work for the prosecution unless you are one hundred per cent certain of the guilt of the accused. That’s the only advice I can give you.’
Arnie didn’t answer. His head was down, his demeanour that of a defeated man. It was a feeling that reflected what Ella was feeling, as her mind sought for answers – for anything that would prove she was telling the truth. But she could think of nothing.
‘You have to leave, Ella. You have to go tonight. I can’t bear you to be prosecuted.’
Ella sat across from Arnie, in the lovely living room of his parents’ house, where she had been staying with little Paulo for the last four months.
Eve and Reginald Smith-Palmer were a loving couple who adored their son. They hadn’t questioned that the woman he loved should move in with them so that Arnie could look after her, and had taken to Paulo as if he was their grandson. To Ella, it felt as though she had landed in heaven.
A large house, Arnie’s family home didn’t feel crowded with her presence. Of the eight bedrooms, she had been given the nursery and what had once been Arnie’s nanny’s adjoining room, for her sole use. And she had been treated like a daughter as she slowly recovered from her ordeal.
But now that ordeal had grown to enormous proportions, and instead of Shamus being the one on trial, it seemed that she was.
‘Ella, please listen to me. You have to get away. They can’t touch you and Paulo while you are in France. If you stay here, you risk losing Paulo and going to jail. I am so worried about you. Please, Ella.’
‘Yes. I can see that I will be saved by leaving, but what of Shamus? He will get away scot-free.’
‘On the charge of kidnapping and assaulting you, yes. But there are a lot more charges that he faces. Charges that you will not have any influence over, as you are not a witness to them, except for Shamus’s final assault and rape of Tilly; but there are many witnesses to what he put Tilly through, who can speak for her. You can have no bearing on the murders, extortion and many other crimes, and he won’t get off all of them. He can’t. There are so many witnesses willing to come forward, and so much solid evidence that the police have unearthed. You have to save yourself and Paulo. Shamus is trying to take you down with him. Don’t let him, please, darling – don’t let him.’
‘Yes, you are right. I can never clear my name. Calek and Abram won’t ever admit the truth or stand up for me.’
‘Thank goodness you have seen the sense of leaving now. I wish I could come with you, but I haven’t been called as a witness yet, so I cannot. I am one witness Tilly will need. I can’t run out on her.’
‘Oh, Arnie, I am so sorry for putting you through all this.’
‘You haven’t. I am involved because of my love for you and Paulo. All the blame is on Shamus’s shoulders.’
Ella knew that whilst most of this was true, she was to blame, too. She’d sought Arnie’s help and had involved him.
‘Now we must spend the time getting everything sorted for your trip. You will need money.’
‘I have plenty. And the banks are still open. I can draw out up to one hundred pounds in cash and can have the rest put on an international money order, which will enable me to open an account in France.’
‘Let’s go immediately then. Mother will take care of Paulo. You go and get your coat, while I explain to my parents what is happening. They won’t object, as we have already spoken about this while you were seeing to Paulo. I’ll ask Mother to pack up all of your things. Have you got the papers for Paulo?’
‘Yes, I always keep them in my handbag.’
‘Be as quick as you can then, darling, as time is getting on.’
Once her business at the bank was done, Ella knew there was one more thing for her to do before she left these shores. ‘Arnie, I need to go to the cemetery. I – I . . .’
‘Of course, we will go there right now. That is, if you want me to come with you?’
‘Yes, I do. It is always an ordeal for me, so I would be grateful for your support.’
They didn’t speak on the way and, when they arrived, Arnie told Ella he would wait for her, and to take all the time she needed.
Walking towards the grave that held a life she’d known that was so different from the one she had now, Ella felt the shame of all that had happened. The two beloved people buried beneath the earth were from a time that was pure. A time when she was pure. Now she was tainted by lies and the deceit perpetrated against her, and by her own actions. For she had carried out some actions that she wasn’t proud of. Yes, they were motivated by fear, but could she have done things differently? Falling to her knees, she cried, ‘Oh, Paulo, I am not worthy to say your name. I’m tainted. I gave what was yours to another man, for my own gain. How can you ever forgive me – how?’
Sobs racked her body. They weakened her so that she had to lean forward on her hands and, in this position, she implored Paulo and Christophe to forgive her, over and over again. Never once did she offer excuses for her behaviour, but when she was drained, she offered a promise. ‘Paulo, I will protect our son. I will bring him up to be a proud Frenchman, as you were, my darling. I’ll instil in him the values that I know you held dear. And he will be a shining example of all that you stood for.’
Calming a little, Ella wiped her tears.
‘Paulo, being you, and a typical Frenchman, I know you won’t deny me going forward and finding love. You always said that you never wanted me to be alone. Well, I have found that love, my darling. His name is Arnie. He is a gentleman, like you, and has many of your ways. And he is kind. He is prepared to give me the time that was snatched from me, to grieve for our parting, and for our son. I need that. I need to heal. When I have, I will marry Arnie. I know you would approve of that. And we will make our life in your country. Look after little Christophe, my darling. I love you both, and always will.’
Finding the strength coming back into her, Ella stood up. Blowing two kisses, she walked back to the car and to Arnie.
Saying goodbye to Arnie, as they stood on the station, tore at Ella’s heart.
‘I will be with you soon, my darling. My mind is made up that I, too, will make my life in France. I cannot live without you, and you cannot live in England until such time as you are exonerated. But it won’t be an encumbrance upon me, as I have told you that part of me has always wanted to live a freer life than my chosen career would allow. I am excited about being in France, with you. We will find a place for ourselves, and a lifestyle that we both enjoy. I cannot wait.’