Lisa Ballantyne - Guilty One

Sebastian exhaled and, at the same time, slipped his hand into Daniel’s. Daniel coursed his thumb across the back of the boy’s hand, as Minnie might have done. Daniel remembered the roughness of her thumb on his young skin. It was an instinct of care and, after all, she had taught him to care.

Irene’s spine was completely straight. Daniel wished he could take her hand too.

‘Not guilty.’

‘And is that the verdict of you all?’

‘Yes.’

There were no cries of rapture. The courtroom reeled in shock. There was a gulf of silence before the voices came, hushed and insistent, like a wave crashing on to the shore. A choke of sobs rose from the victim’s family, angry voices of protest.

Baron silenced the courtroom. ‘I will remind you that this is not a football ground.’

‘What does it mean?’ asked Sebastian when the jury had been excused, the judge had left and the gallery cleared. He was still holding on to Daniel’s hand.

‘It means you can come home, darling,’ said Charlotte, turning her son towards her. Her eyelids trembled as they rose above her large eyes. Sebastian leaned, weary and willowy, into his mother. She curled around him and tousled his hair.

The court began to clear. Daniel followed Irene and Mark out into the great hall of the Old Bailey.

As he made his way towards the exit, Daniel felt a strong hand grasp his shoulder and turn him round. Before he could say a word Kenneth King Croll was shaking his hand and slapping him on the back. Kenneth then reached out to Mark and shook his hand before taking Irene by the shoulders, shaking her lightly and planting a kiss on each cheek.

Released from Kenneth’s grasp, Irene turned to Daniel and smiled. Daniel wanted to hold her, but felt inhibited with their clients nearby.

‘Where are you going now?’ Daniel said, looking down at her, trying to find her eyes.

‘Back to the office, I suppose. I don’t know. I’m exhausted. Go home, maybe. What about you? You’ll have to meet the Great British Press.’

‘Face the music.’

‘Shall I wait for you, then?’ she said.

‘Yeah, wait and we can go get a drink or something. I might be a little while. I’ll be done as soon as I can.’

*

When Irene left, Daniel turned back towards the court to see Ben Stokes’s parents leaving with the family liaison officer. He felt a sudden flush of empathy for them. Paul was holding Madeline by the shoulders. He seemed to be half carrying her. Her feet moved with tiny steps, her head down, hair over her face. Just before she reached Daniel she pushed her hair back and Daniel saw the red eyes and nose, the sunken cheeks. Her eyes flashed for a moment and she pulled away from her husband. Daniel stood back, sure that she was going to attack him. But it was Charlotte whom Madeline targeted. The vast hall echoed as Madeline screamed and reached out – fingers like claws – towards Charlotte’s shoulder.

‘He’s a monster,’ Madeline Stokes screamed. ‘He killed my little boy …’

Daniel was about to call security, but Paul Stokes pulled his wife away. As she passed she became passive again, allowing her husband to lead her away.

‘Are you all right, Charlotte?’ said Daniel.

Charlotte had opened up her handbag. She was searching through it fervently. Objects fell out on to the floor: a hairbrush, a vanity mirror, eyeliners and pens. Deftly, bending at the knees each time, Sebastian stooped to pick them up.

‘I need, I need …’ she said.

‘For God’s sake, woman, calm down,’ Kenneth hissed.

Daniel reached out to her, but it was too late. Charlotte’s knees buckled and she fell on to the floor, letting her handbag fall. The pills she had been searching for rolled out. Sebastian held them up to his father.

‘Here,’ the boy said, presenting them.

Kenneth’s face was almost purple, and Daniel was not sure if it was embarrassment or the strain as he helped Charlotte to her feet.

A security officer came up and asked them if they needed assistance.

‘Look, we’re fine,’ Croll boomed. He turned to Daniel. ‘Could I ask you to stay with Seb for a moment? I need to calm her down before we go out.’

Daniel nodded, watching them go. Sebastian looked up at him, hands by his side, chin tilted so that his entire round face was turned towards Daniel.

‘We’ll be in that conference room,’ Daniel shouted after Croll.

‘Give us twenty minutes.’

Daniel looked at his watch. The boy was still staring at him.

‘She’s having a panic attack. She can’t breathe and her face goes all white and she starts to breathe like this …’ Sebastian began to mime hyperventilation, until Daniel put a hand on his shoulder. Already the boy was red and coughing.

‘Come on,’ said Daniel, opening the door to one of the conference rooms and saluting the security guard who stood nearby. ‘Let’s go in here and sit for a while until your mum’s feeling better.’

The door closed behind them, sealing them in its insulated space. There were no windows in this room. Daniel was reminded of the placer where Minnie had been cremated. The sounds of the Old Bailey – heels on the flagstones, lawyers talking over each other into mobile phones, solicitors whispering to clients – were all excluded.

There was a warm, germinating silence. The boy’s eyes were dry and his pale face pensive. It reminded Daniel of the first time they’d met, in the police station in Islington.

‘Do you think most people are sad that I was found not guilty?’ said Sebastian, looking up at Daniel.

‘It doesn’t matter what other people think; you had a good defence and the jury found you not guilty. You can go back to your life now.’

Sebastian got up and walked around the table to Daniel. He stood by the side of Daniel’s chair.

‘I didn’t want to go back to Parklands House.’

‘No,’ said Daniel. He was leaning forward on his elbows, so that his face was level with the boy’s. ‘I didn’t want you to have to go back there either.’

The little boy sighed and then leaned into Daniel. He rested his head on Daniel’s shoulder. Daniel had watched him being comforted by his mother often enough and knew what to do. After a moment’s pause, he raised his hand and ran his fingers through the boy’s hair.

‘It’ll be OK,’ Daniel whispered. ‘It’s all over now.’

‘Do you think I’ll go to hell?’

‘No, Seb.’

‘How do you know?’

‘Because hell doesn’t exist. I don’t believe in it, anyway.’

‘But you don’t actually know. Nobody actually knows. Believe means you just think something is so.’

‘Well, call me stubborn but I think I do know. All sounds like rubbish to me.’

‘Will Ben be in heaven? Everyone says he’s an angel.’

‘Seb, listen, I know this has been really hard on you – the case has been on TV and in the papers and all the other kids at Parklands House have been talking about you, but you have to try not to pay attention to all the newspapers and stuff. They only do that to sell papers, not because there’s a shred of truth …’

‘Truth,’ said Sebastian, calmly. ‘Do you like me, Daniel?’

‘Yes,’ said Daniel, exhaling.

‘If I tell you something, will you still like me?’

Daniel considered, then nodded.

‘I put the brick on Ben’s face.’

Daniel held his breath and watched the small boy. The light was catching his green eyes. He had an almost imperceptible smile on his lips.

‘You told me you just went home …’

‘It’s all right,’ said Sebastian, smiling properly now. ‘I’ll be OK. You don’t need to worry about me.’

Daniel nodded. He felt his stomach muscles tighten.