1969 - Ch. 03

I leave her there, stunned.

"Pauline, what's going on, where have you been?"

"Barry, not now, I've had a shitty day. I want a hot bath and then I'm going to bed. Your little teenage tart is making your tea, she'll have to get used to it."

"You can't talk to me like that you're still my wife!"

I turn back to him and come down the four stairs I had gone up.

"You know that money, should I get it, is mine alone. Maybe I'll just skip off with it."

"Oh and just how are you going to cash it without putting it in my account?"

"I'm sure I could find someone willing to cash it for me for a few hundred quid."

"Huh, and just who do you propose to do that?"

"Maybe Mr Cox would. After all I open my legs to pay the rent; maybe I'll open my legs with a smile on my face for a change."

Day Six.

Harrington-Brown.

Well here we are again, waiting for his Worship to make his grand entrance. Tom has been chattering in my ear about the crowd outside trying to get in. Apparently there are two more television crews outside than yesterday, and this place is packed.

"Sir, I swear there must be 50 people outside who have been turned away; you'd think the Beatles were performing."

"Do you like the Beatles Tom?"

"Yes, although they have gone a little hippy with there clothes. People in the know say they will split up. I like their music and the Stones as well."

"Speaking of Stone's have you noticed something odd about her today?"

"No wedding ring?"

"Correct young Tom, no wedding ring on her dainty little finger."

The judge instructs me to continue with my questioning of Pauline Stone, actress of the year, if yesterday is anything to go by.

"Mrs Stone, I have to ask, I notice the lack of a wedding ring, why is that?"

"My husband and I are, well, we're getting a divorce."

She clears her throat, as murmurs go round the court. I could say how sorry I am to hear that but I'm going to be a right bastard today.

"So he isn't standing by you, after all?"

She didn't like that question, she just shakes her head and lowers those sexy green eyes to the floor.

"Mrs Stone...sorry should the court refer to you by another name now?"

Jimmy is bleating on that I'm being heartless. The judge decides we carry on using her married name, but I'm having fun with this.

"Surely in the interest of Mr Stone, if he is no longer standing by his soon to be ex wife, then we should call her something else?"

The judge has lectured me about rubbing it in, but as soon as he heard Cinderella is getting a divorce, he made a note on his pad.

"Okay Your Worship, Mrs Stone it still is, so I shall carry on referring to her as such. So, Mrs Stone, I want you tell the court about your relationship with the deceased. How you became friends, and then lovers with Mr Taylor."

"I liked him from the outset. He was fun and intelligent, and he was fit for his age. We talked, and then one night he said something about liking seeing me laugh. Then he leant forward and we kissed. He pulled away and said sorry. A few weeks later I could tell he had something on his mind. He had been distant towards me after the kiss. I asked him, and then he told me he wasn't sorry for kissing me, he was sorry that he was so much older than me."

"Mrs Stone, this is all very Mills and Boon."

"Mills and Boon, Mr Harrington-Brown?"

"Sorry Your Worship, they are publishers of romantic fiction. Mrs Stone, when did you decide to offer Mr Taylor sex to change his will?"

Jimmy's on his feet, complaining again, and we're less than five minutes in.

"Sorry, Your Worship, I'll return to the Mills and Boon approach, because that is fiction too."

Another warning from the judge, but I'm looking at the bigger picture, namely Cinderella. She isn't too pleased about me referring to her affair with Mr Taylor as a purely sexual one. So that's how I'll continue.

"Mrs Stone, what was sex like with Mr Taylor?"

"Do I have to answer that?"

The judge nods and she swallows.

"It was good, very good. He wasn't frail, he was strong, and, and loving."

"I see, was that a surprise to you?"

"A little, he made love to me, kissing me and, and..."

"And what else Mrs Stone, we are all waiting? You seem to be more comfortable telling the court about your supposed rape than something loving and more natural."

More protests from Jimmy and more banging of the gavel, but Mrs Stone's eyes are watering, and her fingers are fiddling with one of the big gold buttons on her red skirt.

"Okay if you must know, he made love to me, he went, went down on and me and I had an orgasm, with his head between my legs. I'm not ashamed of it; I've never had that not even from my husband. Frank, Mr Taylor and I were like one, he knew what to do, and yes I don't like repeating it to you or anyone else, because his death hurts, it still hurts deep down."

She's got a drink of water now, and half the fucking courtroom's sympathy no doubt. But fuck Cinderella; it'll be time for my outrage very shortly.

"Mrs Stone, why were you smiling when you came out of Mr Taylor's room, doing up your uniform on the night of his death?"

She dabs her watering eyes with a tissue.

"I had been...we had been playing. I told him I had to go and help Ms Appleby. Frank whispered that he would wait until I got back, but to hurry up, which made me smile."

"This was the night you gave him your orange panties?"

"Yes, he saw me bending over a few days before and he commented on liking them. He teased me about them and how they would look..."

"How they would look what, Mrs Stone?"

"Your Worship does my client have to spell things out, it's obviously very embarrassing and painful for Pauline."

The judge is thinking and if I know my judge he'll let the question stand. He coughs clearing his throat.

"Mr Spratt, I think Mrs Stone should answer. Please tell the court about your, orange panties."

She looks a little surprised by the good old wonderful judge.

"Very well, Frank teased me about how they would look on his, his penis."

The court mumbles again.

"So I hung them on his, and...masturbated him for a while."

Here I go; time for maybe another fine, but this is what I've waited for.

"Mrs Stone, I think you were smiling because you knew you stood to get Mr Taylor's money. You had just forced the pills down his throat, and masturbated him to his death, maybe even smothered his mouth with your breasts, is that not the truth? Ms Appleby said you were on edge about getting back to Mr Taylor's room. I suggest it was to retrieve the orange panties, these same orange panties Mrs Stone, your orange panties, which I have here, in my hand!"

I hold them aloft circling round the court with them, as Mrs Stone is full on crying now. The veins in Jimmy's neck are throbbing, the judge is yelling, but I've made my point.

It is nearly lunchtime, and the judge has reminded everyone that there is no evidence that it was Mrs Stone who fed Mr Taylor the pills, and caused his death. I've been reprimanded and Jimmy has stopped short of actually punching me. Mrs Stone still sits there sobbing, and her tiny little orange panties, which I should add have been washed, have somehow found their way to the judge's bench.

We're back after lunch and Mrs Stone has told everyone the Mills and Boon version again, which quite frankly has been done to death. Jimmy has asked all the right things and his sympathy is so sickly, it is like putting sugar on a banana sandwich, even the judge has told him to move it along.

Finally 40 minutes later he has finished, and I've noted a few of the women in the gallery have been weeping into tissues with Cinderella's love for Mr Taylor.

"Mr Spratt, have you finished?"

"Your Worship, if it pleases the court, Pauline would like to say something."

The judge nods.

"I just want to say, I wish Frank was still here. Yes I'm 24 and he was 76, but no matter what anyone thinks of the age difference, I love, loved him, and he made me happy."

If I had been drinking I would have spat my tea out.

"Your Worship, I would like to hear from Ms Taylor?"

I'm on my feet in a flash after Jimmy's words.

"Your Worship, Ms Taylor has given a statement to the court, and there is no need for her to be questioned. She is still too upset over the death of her father, and it was agreed she would not be called, after several large charity donations, as per the law made in 1722."

"Your Worship, we have a few questions regarding the statement Ms Taylor has made. Once again Mr Harrington-Brown has come up with a law that should have long been abolished, and hasn't seen the light of day since I don't know when."

"Ms Taylor has a medical condition, and I don't think it serves any purpose to ask her about her statement," I say, and the judge nods in agreement.

Thank the lord we dodged a big bullet, I turn round and there she is, standing in the middle of the court.

"I've heard enough. Question me if you need to."

All eyes are on the ugly sister from hell as she steps forward. I sit down and Tom whispers in my ear that this isn't what we wanted.

"Tom, she'll blow everything up if we're not careful. What could Jimmy have on her?"

"Sir, there's nothing."

"There had better not be, or you'll be making clothes to earn money and not as some sort of weird faggot thing."

"You may sit Ms Taylor," the judge says with a smile.

"I'll not sit in the same chair as that gold digging harlot."

I slip further down in my seat, hoping the floor will open up. Tom nudges me.

"Sir it is 4.30, can we not delay until tomorrow?"

I'm on my feet and asking the judge.

"No we will not. Ms Taylor I intend getting to the end of the questioning today. I will ask you only once to keep your emotions in check."

She huffs but nods.

"Ms Taylor. We're all very sorry for your loss. Your statement is more than adequate, but I'd like to ask you a few little questions."

"Well get on with it then young man."

"She'll mess things up Tom. I just know it," I whisper.

"Of course Ms Taylor... How often did you visit your father in the Glory Care Home?" Jimmy asks.

"Every other week, my sister and that Buffoon she married and I alternated. It is in the visitor's log book at the home."

A titter goes round the court, but Ms Taylor stands there with a face that could have the devil him self shaking on his hooves.

"I see, did you like your father's room, number 12 wasn't it?"

"Yes."

"A nice room, wouldn't you say?"

"Yes."

"With flowers on the wall paper isn't that so?"

"Yes red roses, the same as in my garden. Before you ask I don't remember the colour of the drapes."

"Your Worship, Ms Taylor is a very busy woman, and do we really need details of the room her poor father met his untimely death in?"

"Thank you Mr Harrington-Brown. Mr Spratt, can we get on?"

"Ms Taylor, your father hadn't been in room 12 for the last 9 months of his life, he was moved to room 15 when room 12 was redecorated, he liked that room better and never went back to room 12."

"Well, I, I'm mistaken then."

"But of course you signed the Glory Care Home visitor's book; each time you went there, didn't you?"

She glances up at her sister who looks a little on edge.

"Tell me please how you managed to sign the visitors book, on the 15th of March, when you were holidaying in Egypt, and on the 29th of June, and again on 30th of August, when Ms Taylor, you were again, out of the country?"

"Ms Taylor is a very busy woman, and Your Worship, I offer that she mistook the dates."

"Mr Harrington-Brown, the visitor's book is in a diary form, with the dates printed on the page."

"Mr Spratt, I fail to see the importance, apart from Ms Taylor not visiting her father, and someone else signing the register. If you're suggesting the jury base there decision on visits to Mr Taylor, it is not a crime, although I would say that I'd expect a daughter of mine to visit me in such circumstances."

After what the judge has just said, the jury and the rest of the court will be against Ms Taylor now.

"The day after Ms Appleby signed your father's new will, was the only time you visited him recently, why was that?"

"I told him I had heard of this new will, and he wasn't leaving anything to one of the help."

"Or, and I quote, that gold digging Harlot, as you referred to the woman who was probably the only friend your father had recently. Neither you or your sister visited him, and to be honest Ms Taylor, did you really care if he lived or died in a place that he had no need to be in, in the first place."

The court is in uproar again, and I have another shouting match with Jimmy Spratt.

He has a couple more questions, and if he's anything like me, this'll be even more damning.

"Ms Taylor, did you not move your fully fit and capable father to the Glory Care Home, because of a couple of dizzy spells?"

"Yes, he couldn't have looked after himself in that big house all on his own."

"Did you fire his housekeeper, making it impossible for him to stay there?"

"She was a thief, like that working class whore he took up with."

"Ms Taylor, I wonder if Ms Appleby, an ex lesbian lover of yours, had instructions to get your father, out of the way somehow, because he wouldn't sell his house, a house that you knew was waiting to be bulldozed by a local building firm, for the land it stood on, a house that you and your sister had been left in his will?"

It took the judge 5 minutes to gain control, and I reckon this is a lot closer than I feared. My closing speech is next, and it is going to be short but to the point.

"This is quite a simple case for you to decide on members of the jury. I'm sure you haven't been taken in by Mrs Stone's tears, and the often mentioned love for Mr Taylor, that her and her council have beaten you over the head with. Quite simply Mrs Stone was in the habit of teasing the residents of the Glory Care Home, with her extremely short uniform, and picking out the wealthiest residents, and treating them to sexual favours," I turn to the jury shaking my head in a pitiful motion.

"Yes she is a pretty woman, and just by showing interest to the elderly gentleman Mr Taylor, she secured a place in his will. Sleeping with a man old enough to be her grandfather, she could only have one reason, to entice him into parting with his fortune. Good Gentlemen of the jury, let us not forget, how she has paid the rent arrears, and in the process, Mrs Stone got herself pregnant by Mr Cox. Mr Cox I might add, has fallen so madly in love with her, he wants to marry her. Ms Taylor is right to accuse her of being a gold digger, who was probably egged on by her husband, a husband, who now he has heard so many things via the television and radio, he would rather divorce his wife, and kiss any chance of the money goodbye. Yes members of the jury, let us not forget that Mrs Stone has, or rather had a husband, who has been in pain for months after his accident, and in all that time Mrs Stone, had carried on with Mr Taylor behind her husband's back," I nod as if agreeing with myself.

"Member's of the jury, what wife would do such a thing? Not a loving, caring wife, but a wife who saw the chance to be rich. Ask yourself please, would Mrs Stone have fallen in love with a penniless Mr Taylor? No...I think not."

"Very good Sir, Jimmy can't possibly best you."

"Mr Harrington-Brown, has told you members of the jury, Mrs Stone is purely motivated by money. Yes we told you that she was in love with Mr Taylor, and didn't know about the will, and had not pressurized Mr Taylor for money, because that is true. She has admitted that the money would give her and her injured husband a new life, and that again that is true, but I repeat, she did not ask for that money, and certainly did not hatch a plan with her husband to cajole Mr Taylor, to add her to his will," Jimmy says and then takes a breath.

"Pauline has told you she had fought her feelings, believing in the sanctity of her marriage vows. But she wasn't the first nor will she be the last to fall in love with another man. In her short statement Pauline said, she wished Frank was still here, and she has been the only one who has said that. She said that with real tears in her eyes, and from the heart...so I ask you, to give Pauline the money that will give her the chance to rebuild her life, and while you're thinking on that remember, she would rather Frank Taylor was still alive," Jimmy says and then stops to let the jury think about that.

"Mr Taylor left his money to her in his will. You cannot ignore it was Mr Taylor's wish that she should have the contents of his bank account, while his two daughters still have the business, and two houses owned by their father, so it's not like they have been left with nothing. So members of the jury, let Mr Taylor rest in peace knowing, he got his wish, for a woman who made him happy, and took time on her days off to come in and sit with him. Give the money to, Pauline."

In the Judge's instructions to the jury, both myself and Jimmy had been accused of being the most underhanded he had even seen in his court. Okay that may be true. He told them to ignore all the theatrics, and gave them the facts. He sent them away with them fully aware there needed to be a majority decision in this case, and in the event of a tie, he would save the court time and money by having the final say.

"The jury should retire to consider this now, and because of the late hour I do not expect the verdict until tomorrow."

Well that's it, all over and done with. I knew Ms Taylor might well fuck things up.

I'm talking to the judge outside the court room about his farewell bash in two weeks. Mr Spratt has hurried to the hospital where his wife has gone into labour, and Mrs Stone is on the other side of the lobby with Jimmy's number two. The judge has been eyeing her up, while listening to me.

"For your information Mr Harrington-Brown, Mrs Stone's panties ended up on my bench, and if you'll excuse me I'd like to return them to her."

I smile at him as he walks up to Mrs Stone.

Pauline.

"Hello there Pauline, I hope you don't mind me calling you Pauline?"

"No Your Worship, that's quite alright."

He chuckles at me, and tells me there is no need to call him that out of the courtroom.

"Sorry I couldn't help overhearing you are looking for a hotel to stay in tonight. Might I suggest the Royal?"

"I couldn't afford that, I was thinking of a bed and breakfast."

"Well I do know the owner, and if Mr Spratt's council here doesn't object I'll have my driver drop you off there. You don't object do you, Mr?"

"Waverly, Your Worship, and I don't think..."

"Waverly, I've been very impressed with you, calming Mr Spratt down. You could have a big future in the courts, and wouldn't it be nice to have a respected retired judge to help with your future?"

I'm stood in the lobby of the hotel, seeing how the other half live. The judge followed me into his car and insisted on accompanying me to my home to get some fresh clothes. His hand had been on my knee for most of the journey, as he has told me not to worry, as he's sure I'll win the case.

My husband was sat in the chair brooding while I got my things. Gloria sat next to him like some sort of lap dog, neither of them spoke. My husband's face was turned to the floor, and I got to see his jowl move as he ground his teeth.

"So who does that fancy car belong to, another one of rich old men you have snared?" Gloria spits.

I ignore her and look at my husband. He holds out his hand with what I assume is the divorce papers, in an envelope. I go to take the envelope off him, but he keeps hold of it.

"I still want half the money, and if I don't get it I'll sue you."