Lisa Ballantyne - Guilty One

Daniel sat in his office overlooking Liverpool Street. He had the radio on low as he made notes on Sebastian’s case.

He had placed the letter in the front pocket of his briefcase; the paper was crumpled now, from being read and reread. He took it out and read it again. He still had not called the hospital. He refused to believe Minnie was dead, but read the letter again as if he had missed something. It was a cruel ploy, he decided. All her phone calls over the years asking for forgiveness, and then tiring of that and just asking to see him one more time.

Daniel wondered if the letter was another attempt to have him back in her life. She might well be sick, but trying to manipulate. He folded the letter and pushed it away from him. Just thinking about her made his stomach tight with anger.

The office was warm, delicate rays of sunshine shot through the sash windows and illuminated dust. He picked up the telephone.

After all the things he had said to her, she would still call every year on his birthday and sometimes at Christmas. He would avoid her calls, but then lie awake at night arguing with her in his head. It seemed that the years did nothing to calm the anger he felt towards her. The few times that they had spoken, Daniel had been clipped and distant, not allowing her to tempt him into conversation, when she asked how he was enjoying work or if he had a girlfriend. He had mastered detachment long ago, but Minnie had helped him to perfect it. It was because of her that he didn’t want to let anyone in. She would talk to him about the farm and the animals, as if to remind him of home. He was only reminded of how she had let him down. Sometimes she would say again that she was sorry, and he would cut her off. He would hang up the phone. He hated her justifications even more than what she had done. She said it had been for his own good. He didn’t like to remember, and mostly he did not, but the pain of that still took his breath away.

He had not called her for over fifteen years.

Not since their disagreement when he told her that he wished she was dead.

It hadn’t seemed enough. He remembered wanting to hurt her more.

Nevertheless, he dialled without checking her number or struggling to recall it. The phone rang and Daniel took a deep breath. He cleared his throat and leaned forward on the desk, eye on the door of his office.

He imagined her prising herself out of the chair in the living room, as her latest pound-mongrel raised its eyebrows at her. He could almost smell her gin and hear her sighs. Hold yer horses, I’m comin’, I’m comin’, she would say. The phone switched to answer-phone. Daniel put the receiver to his chin for a moment, thinking. He didn’t have time for this. He hung up.

Outside the window, he saw a runner, lean and wiry. Daniel watched him navigating the traffic and the pedestrians. He could see from his style and the length of his stride that he was making a good pace but from this distance it seemed as if the man was running slowly. The trees shimmered at Daniel from behind the glass. He had been at the office since early morning and had not stepped outside since to feel the grace of the sun on his skin.

‘You busy?’ said Veronica Steele, Daniel’s senior partner, popping her head round the door.

‘What’s up?’

Veronica sat on the arm of the couch, facing him. ‘Just wondering how you’re holding up.’

Daniel threw a pencil down on to a pad that was covered with scribbles. He spun to face her, hands behind his head.

‘I’m all right.’ Daniel sat back in his chair.

‘You’ve decided to stay with it?’

‘Yes.’ He ran a hand through his hair. ‘Not the best career decision, I’m sure. I know it’ll get messy. Half of me feels totally out of my depth and the other half wants to try and … save him?’

‘He’s pleading not guilty?’

‘Yes, sticking hard to his story. The mother is backing him up.’

‘Was it Highbury Corner you were at on Thursday?’

‘Yup, bail refused as predicted, so he’s been sent to Parklands House secure unit.’

‘God, that’s bleak. He’ll be the youngest one in there.’

Daniel nodded, rubbing a hand across his jaw.

‘Who’s your silk – Irene’s a QC now, isn’t she?’

‘Yes, she got the nod. Made the silk list in March.’

‘I remember I wrote to congratulate her.’

‘I was surprised she took this on, but she was even at the youth court. I’m so glad she did, though. We have a chance.’

The telephone rang and Daniel picked it up, hand over the receiver, apologising to Veronica.

‘Steph,’ he said, ‘I asked you not to put through any calls.’

‘I know, Danny, I’m sorry. It’s just it’s a personal call for you. He says it’s urgent. I thought I’d ask if you wanted to take it?’

‘Who is it?’

‘A lawyer from the north. He said it’s about a family member.’

‘Put him through.’ Daniel sighed and shrugged at Veronica, who smiled and left the room.

Daniel cleared his throat again. The muscles in his body were suddenly sprung.

‘Hello, is that Daniel Hunter? My name’s John Cunningham, solicitor for Mrs Flynn. Daniel, I’m sorry. I have some bad news for you. Your mother has passed away. I don’t know if you’ve heard … but she has left instructions …’

‘She’s not my mother.’

Daniel couldn’t keep the anger out of his voice.

There was silence on the line for a minute. Daniel could only hear his heart beating.

‘I understand Minnie … adopted you in 1988.’

‘Look, what is it? I’m actually about to go into a meeting.’

‘I’m sorry to disturb you. Possibly I could call another time? It’s just about the funeral and then there’s the matter of the will.’

‘I don’t want anything of hers.’

‘She has left you her entire estate.’

‘Her estate.’ Daniel stood up. He tried to laugh, but he only managed to open his mouth.

‘A simple funeral is being held on Tuesday the seventeenth, if you wish to attend.’

The breath almost didn’t carry his words, but he said: ‘I don’t have time.’

‘I see, but the inheritance …’

‘Like I said, I don’t want anything.’

‘All right, well, there’s no rush. I expect it’ll take a while to settle the house. I’ll be in touch again when—’

‘Look, I really don’t have time just now.’

‘Fine. Shall I call again on Wednesday, after the funeral? I have left my details with your colleague, should you wish to get in touch.’

‘Very well. Goodbye.’

Daniel hung up. He rubbed his eyes with forefinger and thumb then took a deep breath.

Daniel had to change at Whitechapel and take the London Overground to Parklands House. When he emerged at Anerley, the street smelled of exhaust fumes and evaporated rain. Daniel could feel the sweat forming at his hairline and between his shoulder blades. The sky was low, pressing on him. It was Friday morning, just a day since the first hearing at Highbury Corner, and he was going to see Sebastian and his parents. Sebastian’s father had returned from Hong Kong and this was the first time Daniel would meet him.

He felt strangely apprehensive about seeing the boy again, and meeting his family. Daniel had not slept well. His morning run had been slow because he had been tired before he began. Two nights in a row he had woken up dreaming of Brampton, her house with the dirty floors and the chickens in the run outside.

Her funeral would be held in a few days, but he did not yet feel her loss.

When he arrived at the secure unit, the Crolls were waiting. Daniel had asked to meet with them first before he spoke to Sebastian. They sat at a table in a bright room with high, small windows.