‘No. I think I’ve dealt with it.’
‘But I mean professionally. You’ve never seen anyone, have you, even though your foster mother and Mrs Metcalf, doctors even, have advised this.’
‘No. I’ve never felt the need.’
‘But I think we’d all agree that the abuse you suffered would have left deep scars which it is almost impossible to eradicate without professional help.’
I watched her legs as she walked, willing her to trip and break her neck. ‘I don’t know. I feel fine.’
‘Do you think the emails you sent Mrs Metcalf after your break-up and then again whilst she was on her honeymoon were the actions of a rational person?’
‘I was very upset, both times.’
‘Yes, but don’t you think they were extreme?’
‘I’ve already said I was very upset when I wrote them. I’m not proud of them at all.’
Petra looked at the jury. ‘I know you all have these in your notes, but perhaps I could read one out to you, dated February the fourteenth last year.’ She put her glasses on and opened the papers in front of her:
‘V, my darling, my love, my everything, please, please write to me. You can’t just cut me out of your life like this. How many times can I say sorry? What do I have to do? I will do anything, everything, name your price. I love you, I love you. I crave you, I crave you. Stop this. Stop it, you bitch. Fucking stop it, you heartless cow. Don’t be this person. Remember who we are. I love you, V, forever and always.’
Petra looked up as she finished and I could feel the stunned silence of the courtroom like a presence in the air. ‘There are quite a few emails like that,’ she said.
I nodded, feeling as if there was something pressing on the backs of my eyes. ‘I’m very ashamed I wrote those things. I didn’t mean them. I was desperate.’
‘They sound more than desperate to me,’ she said. ‘They sound dangerous.’
‘Objection,’ Xander said.
‘Sustained.’
Petra shook her head. ‘Why did you stop writing to Mrs Metcalf after that email?’
‘Because I realised there was no point continuing. I knew I would have to do something big to win her back.’
‘Which is when you decided to come back to the UK?’
‘Yes.’
‘How did you feel when you found out she was getting married?’
I squeezed my hands together in my lap. ‘I was shocked.’ Xander had told me not to say that the marriage was part of the Crave.
‘You didn’t feel upset?’
‘Yes, I did.’
‘But you didn’t talk to anyone about it? In fact, you concocted an elaborate charade in which you pretended to your work colleagues that you and Verity were still partners.’
My skin felt itchy. ‘It was easier to do that than talk about what had happened.’
‘Maybe it was easier to pretend to yourself as well?’
‘No, I knew the situation.’
‘You were just determined to reverse it?’
‘I knew Verity wanted that as well.’
Petra paused for a moment, but then spoke again. ‘From what I can tell you assumed an awful lot about what Mrs Metcalf was feeling from a couple of very brief emails and meetings when you came back to London. There are no records of any phone calls between you, no email correspondence apart from the scant few in the files, no meetings.’
‘I know Verity very well,’ I said, keeping my eyes on Petra. ‘I don’t need to spend lots of time with her to know what she is thinking.’
‘You also clearly don’t need to listen to her,’ Petra said, glancing over at the jury. ‘She specifically told you she was in love with Angus and not interested in restarting anything with you almost every time you communicated.’
‘You don’t understand,’ I said and I knew my voice had risen, so I pinched on the side of my hand in the way Xander had taught me to do.
‘Go on then, educate me.’
‘We have all these secret ways of communicating which only we understand.’
‘Oh yes,’ Petra said, her voice heavy with sarcasm. ‘You think she doesn’t mean the things she says. So, when she says no, she actually means yes, is that it?’
‘No. I don’t mean …’
‘Like when you’re forcing yourself on a woman sexually and she’s telling you no and you keep going because really no means yes. Is that what you mean?’
‘Objection, my lord,’ Xander said, standing. ‘How is this relevant?’
‘Yes, Ms Gardner,’ Judge Smithson said, ‘you do seem to be concerning yourself with political point-scoring in this trial.’
Petra looked down and her face was a deep red. ‘Apologies, my lord, if you feel that way. But I think we can agree that it is relevant, given that Mr Hayes failed to stop kissing Mrs Metcalf when she first asked him to on the night of the alleged assault.’
The judge waved his assent, but it was obvious he was annoyed.
Xander caught my eye and lowered his shoulders, so I did the same and it made me feel a bit better. ‘Of course I don’t think no means yes,’ I said. ‘I stopped when Verity asked me to.’
‘She had to ask you more than once, I believe. She had to shout. She says you had her pinned to the floor.’
‘She wanted to kiss me.’
‘How on earth do you know that?’
‘From the way she responded.’
‘I put it to you that you wanted Mr Metcalf dead,’ Petra said, looking straight at me. ‘I have the medical reports and your injuries were mostly superficial. Mr Metcalf, however, sustained a dislocated jaw, a broken nose, cheek-and jawbone, a fractured skull and extensive bleeding on the brain. You hit him very hard numerous times. Much harder than he hit you, much harder than was necessary to stop him punching you.’
‘I didn’t mean to kill him.’
‘You must have hated him simply because Verity loved him.’
‘No,’ I said, shaking my head. ‘I didn’t hate him. I felt sorry for him.’
‘But he had everything you wanted.’
‘No, he didn’t. He thought he did. But Verity didn’t love him.’
‘But Verity has sat where you are now and told us she loved him.’
‘She doesn’t mean it.’
‘Oh right, so we’re back here. Back to not believing the words which come out of a woman’s mouth because they always mean the opposite.’
‘Objection,’ Xander said. ‘Mr Hayes has never claimed to be talking for all women.’
‘Sustained,’ said Justice Smithson. ‘Ms Gardner, your point?’
‘My point, my lord,’ said Petra, walking towards me, ‘is that you, Mr Hayes, seem to have established this narrative in which you know Verity better even than she knows herself. Only you know what is best for her or how she should live. Only you understand what she means. Only you hear the things she doesn’t say and convince yourself that she has spoken.’
‘No, you don’t understand.’ The desire to cause Petra physical harm raged inside me.
‘And when she broke away from this and was happy in a life which had nothing to do with you, you couldn’t bear it and killed Mr Metcalf in a fit of jealousy and rage, in the way you had been conditioned to behave since childhood.’
‘That is not true.’ I could feel the sweat dripping from my brow and the tension in my shoulders which would result in a mean headache.
‘But it is also not true that Mrs Metcalf wanted to be with you or end her marriage, is it? And it is certainly not true that she ever asked you to help her get rid of Mr Metcalf.’
‘You don’t understand,’ I said again and I felt our truth slipping away from me.
‘Your childhood sounds terrible,’ Petra said. ‘Do you hate your mother, Mr Hayes?’
I thought of the woman in my waste-paper basket. ‘No.’
‘But you refuse to see her?’
‘Yes.’
‘Why is that?’
‘Because there’s no point.’
‘Did you read the article in the Mirror in which she appeared very contrite and begged to see you?’
It felt like the walls were closing in and I didn’t know where we were going. ‘Yes?’
‘So why not see her now then?’
‘Because she doesn’t mean it.’
Petra spun to the jury. ‘There. Another woman who says one thing and means another.’