Lynda Plante - The Talisman

Alex brought Evelyn many books to fill the time in his cell, and he read avidly. He was a model prisoner and took notice when Alex told him that at any cost he must keep himself segregated. Any trouble he got into would go against him. Alex was able to make him understand what confinement does to a man, the homosexual practices of which he could become the victim. He found his son’s sense of humour touching when he said he had come across enough of that in school to be able to cope with it. Alex even worked out a fitness programme for him, so that he could keep his body strong. He showed Evelyn a couple of exercises, getting down on the visiting room floor to demonstrate. Whereas his visits used to cause him such mental anguish, now it was the partings that became more and more difficult. Their time was so precious, precious because looming over them both was the forthcoming trial. Just as freedom seemed so sweet, the possibility of not being granted it played on Evelyn’s mind.

Edward started with the men and women arrested at the farmhouse with Evelyn. He had already paid handsomely for having his messages carried into the jail via the lawyers, offering vast sums of money, money their families would benefit from, if not themselves. One by one they altered their statements, claiming that Evelyn was just a rich young boy they had manipulated. Kurt Spanier was the most difficult to persuade, as he stood to be charged with kidnapping and holding Evelyn against his will. But money can bend minds, and Spanier negotiated for a deal.

Alex listened as Edward outlined the second part of his compaign. He began to work on the press, arranging interviews, and bought witnesses prepared to swear on oath that Evelyn Barkley was held against his will at the farmhouse. Edward even had sworn affidavits from the freres at St Martin’s. Alex could only guess at the cost of what his brother was doing, he knew it would have to be astronomical. But he obeyed his instructions and queried nothing. The days sped by, the trial drawing closing and closer.

‘I’m going to have to see him, Alex, he’s got to give a performance, and he’s going to need me to tell him exactly what to say... I want no one else there, no lawyers, not even you, and I give you my word I’ll be there for exactly what I’ve told you, nothing more. Can you arrange it? Within the next two days?’

Alex agreed, and after discussion with the prison authorities Edward was given permission to visit Evelyn. Alex had a difficult assignment himself — he was to give a full press interview as the distraught father. That would not require any acting ability, but it was vitally important that he give a display of total support for his son’s innocence.

The two brothers shook hands. Edward knew he must make himself very scarce — no one must associate him with Alex or connect the two with any behind-the-scenes manipulation. There had been no violence, no threats — just the temptation of money.

Judge Gregoire Marechal was the last man Edward had arranged to meet, the last link in his chain.

Edward was body-searched, then left waiting for more than two hours. The room smelt of stale body odour and tobacco.

At last he heard footsteps on the tiled floor, and a warder gestured for him to follow. He was shown into a small, stiflingly hot room. A thick glass barrier ran the length of the room, and a telephone hung on the wall. After a further ten minutes the door behind the barrier opened. The guards removed Evelyn’s handcuffs and he sat down, rubbing his wrists.

It was a moment before Evelyn realized who Edward was. Edward started sweating — he licked his lips and reached for the telephone. Evelyn did the same.

‘There’s nothing wrong with Dad, is there? He’s all right?’

Edward hesitated, finding the telephone system confusing. He wanted to be face to face with Evelyn, but he couldn’t be heard unless he spoke directly into the telephone.

‘Your father’s fine. I’m here for the lawyers, I am with the law firm that’s taking your case, do you understand?’

‘I didn’t recognize you at first, you look different.’

‘Yep, we all change... You all right?’

Edward found it unnerving looking into the boy’s face, seeing his dark eyes, his fine features, his beauty. The slender neck emerging from the rough prison shirt, the long tapering fingers as he held the phone. Even his voice sounded distorted through the receiver, almost surreal.

‘Is this how Alex has to speak to you?’

‘Yes. Put your hand against the glass, I’ll show you how we touch.’

Evelyn pressed his palm against the glass partition, and Edward slowly lifted his own hand and pressed it against the glass on his own side. They ‘touched’... after a moment the glass began to warm... Edward became more adept with the telephone, and he was now able to speak to Evelyn and remain looking at him. Evelyn lifted his hand from the glass.

‘No, no... don’t take your hand away, please...’

Evelyn complied, left his hand pressed close to Edward’s. He found his uncle disturbing. The black eyes held him and he could see the huge man’s body was shaking. But there was no tremor in the deep, husky voice. ‘Keep looking at me, don’t take your eyes off my face, Evelyn, and listen... It’s very important for you to understand, take in everything I say.’

Edward kept his left hand pressed against the glass, against his son’s. His voice was calm as he told Evelyn slowly that being kidnapped must have been a dreadful experience, to be dragged from the school gates...

Evelyn made to withdraw his hand, and Edward almost shouted, ‘Keep your eyes on me, you must remember every word, understand me, every word.’

The minutes ticked by while the two of them sat with phones pressed to their ears, hands against the glass. Edward gave Evelyn dates, times, details, and he could tell by the expression on the boy’s face that he was taking it all in.

When the bell rang, Edward kept talking, but Evelyn banged on the glass, shaking his head. The phone had been disconnected.

Edward dropped the receiver and put both hands against the glass. Evelyn pressed his face to the glass, mouthed ‘thank you’ as the door behind him opened.

It was over so fast — the handcuffs replaced, the two guards gripping Evelyn’s elbows as they led him away. He looked back to see his uncle, his hands still raised to the window as if in contact with Evelyn’s, his huge frame filling the entire soundproof cubicle. He was banging on the glass, shouting at his son, words Evelyn couldn’t hear... and then the door was locked behind him.

Alone in his cell, Evelyn lay on his bunk. He had felt such power, such strength from the big man. He had been drawn close, just as if he were still the child who had run to him all those years ago. He recalled exactly what Edward had said when he had found the little boy crying at the big dining table, crying because he didn’t want to leave the manor. Edward had whispered, ‘We are blood to blood, put your hand on my heart, feel it, feel me... I am always here, don’t ever be afraid.’

Evelyn placed his hand across his own heart. It had all gone so wrong and he had no one to blame but himself. He remembered not just the words but also what it had felt like all those years ago, slipping his tiny hand inside his uncle’s jacket, pressing his palm against the big man’s heart. In that brief moment he had felt an overwhelming and powerful bond, and he had felt it again today, even though he had been unable to touch him. He wasn’t afraid any more — he knew he would be able to take whatever punishment was handed out to him, and he vowed that he would make it up to everyone, especially Alex. Calmly, he drifted into a deep sleep. It was strange because since his arrest he had been unable to, but now, as if another heart beat in rhythm with his own, he felt at peace.