The Edge of the Fall (53 page)

‘Oh dear, sir.' Mrs McElwell looked shocked, her face pale. ‘I can't imagine.'

‘Yes, Mrs McElwell. Mr de Witt put the idea in her head. He said it to her, offhand, uncaring, because he had no affection for her. He probably was just trying to stop her from talking, he was lashing out because he disliked her. And instead, the poor girl began to starve herself. She convinced herself that Mr de Witt would admire her if she consumed nothing! She was faint, sick
and ill. Her bones, Mrs McElwell, if you will forgive me, her bones would have begun to crumble fast for lack of food. Her body was in a desperate state. And this was all to please Mr de Witt!'

‘Oh.' Mrs McElwell looked faintly at him. She swayed a little. A clerk passed her a glass of water. She closed her eyes, opened them again.

‘I am sorry, Mrs McElwell. If only we could avoid these painful subjects. But the fact of the matter is that the defendant there detested Miss Deerhurst. To please him, she tried to starve herself. But he simply ignored her. What a tragedy!'

‘Yes, sir.'

‘And yet, this is a tragedy that could have been avoided. He didn't have to marry her. He didn't even have to keep company with her. But he ran away with her from Stoneythorpe, the home where she was safe with her aunt and uncle. He took her away – but not because he loved her. This is no modern-day Romeo and Juliet. Oh no. He wanted only one thing from her.'

Mr Cedric paused. He looked around the courtroom. There was no need. The entire room was hanging on every word of his thunderous rhetoric. Celia held Emmeline's hand, miserably. She couldn't bear to look at Arthur.

‘And what was that one thing Mr de Witt wanted?'Mr Cedric said, loud enough, Celia thought, for everyone in the next court to hear. ‘What was it?'

Mrs McElwell shook her head, although everybody knew he wasn't talking to her.

‘He wanted her money. Plain and simple, he wanted her money. And he was willing to do anything to get it.'

He looked around the court room, dipped his voice. ‘Thank you, Your Honour.'

Celia could almost feel the gallery burst into applause above her. A bravura performance, you could say. The journalists were scrawling wildly, about to dash from the room, she wouldn't wonder. The jury sat staring. Even the judge was paying attention. She looked down at Arthur. She saw two trails of tears glittering on his face.

*

The judge finally called for a break, Mrs McElwell looked about to faint and Celia supposed he wanted to allow the journalists a chance to call in the story in time to catch the afternoon editions. She and Emmeline sat on the bench outside.

‘Don't talk,' she said to Emmeline. ‘We'll only make it worse.' She took a sweet from the bag. This time she picked out a mint one on purpose, claiming the harsh, sour, nasty taste to match her own misery.

After the break, Mr Bird addressed Mrs McElwell. But the woman's story was straight now and there was nothing he could find, no hole to break into. Celia rather longed for Mr Bird to stop trying. The woman seemed so stunned by the whole thing that she could barely answer, and his questioning looked unfair, ungallant.

After Mrs McElwell came Albert Greeson, the pub landlord of the Bear in Weymouth. He testified that he had seen Arthur on most days, but that he believed that he spent his time elsewhere. He agreed with Mr Cedric that there were many illegal gambling dens in Weymouth. He said that he knew little about them himself, but knew by reputation that they had sprung up in the war after Lloyd George's changes to the drinking laws. Now, he said darkly, you couldn't get rid of them. Mr Cedric asked if he had heard what went on in such places. Mr Greeson said he did not but had heard of men losing thousands of pounds.

‘Were these all-male establishments?' asked Mr Cedric.

‘No, sir. I have heard of women waitresses. And there were also other ladies there in – er – other occupations.'

‘What sort of occupations?'

The man looked in confusion at the judge.

‘You may go on, Mr Greeson,' said the judge. ‘Anyone in the gallery who wishes to should stop their ears at this point.'

‘Ladies of the night, sir,' said Greeson, emboldened. ‘Who met men for money. There were plenty of those.' He looked at the jury. ‘Or – er – so I heard.'

‘Thank you, Mr Greeson,' said Mr Cedric. ‘What a picture. The young lady starves herself in her room, attempting to create love
in a man who feels nothing for her. He goes to public houses and gambling dens. He spends money – that surely is hers – on the card table and he is surrounded by ladies of the night. Dear me. Dear, dear me.'

Celia longed for the judge to call another break, but instead, they were to plough on after the jury had had a moment to complete any notes. Who next? she thought. A gambling friend? A lady of the night, in a short skirt with a feather on her wrist? She hoped that Reverend Campson had left, not stayed to hear such awful things.

‘Call Mrs Eglantine Merling,' declared the court official. The door opened and the woman came through.

THIRTY-EIGHT

London, February 1926

Celia

Mrs Merling walked into the room, settled herself at the witness box. Celia felt heartened. She'd been fond of Arthur, that had been clear when Celia had met her. She looked plumper now, her face wide and puffy. She'd dressed her hair carefully, piling it on top of her head in an elaborate Edwardian style. She looked intelligent, trustworthy. The sort of woman they'd used after the war as an example of a lady who deserved the vote: a good citizen and mother, thoughtful and utterly respectable.

She gave her name to the court, her voice ringing clearly. Mr Cedric asked her how she had first met Arthur. She said he had taken rooms in her home for Miss Deerhurst and he had taken the rooms upstairs for himself. No, they had never said they were married. He'd told her that Louisa was his cousin and he was bringing her to town for the season. No, she'd never seen any impropriety. In fact, she thought, quite the opposite, Mr de Witt had been quite punctilious about visiting her home in correct hours. She had found him a very respectable man, almost too much so; sometimes it had seemed to her that Miss Deerhurst had wished he might visit more.

‘So Miss Deerhurst felt neglected that Mr de Witt did not come to visit her?' Celia gazed down at Arthur but he looked ahead, impassive. This courtroom was a disaster! Because Mr Cedric went first, he could plant all these terrible ideas in the minds of the jury. Mr Bird was always running to catch up. It wasn't fair.

Mrs Merling shook her head. ‘I don't think he neglected her. I feel that she wished to see him more than he knew. Then, after he started to take her to more parties, she seemed happier.' Celia squeezed Emmeline's hand. One dared not to hope too much, but finally, it seemed, there was a witness who was fair, saw things on their own merits, judged Arthur on the fact that he was a good man. Mrs Merling wasn't the sort of woman to read those awful newspapers. And the people in the gallery were paying her attention. They liked her. It was as if they were saying – here, finally, after a parade of people who lied, here is someone we can
trust
.

Mr Cedric asked her about the nature of the parties and Mrs Merling said she knew little about them but that Louisa had seemed to enjoy the evenings and they'd taken her to the dressmaker's to buy gowns and twice for the material to make fancy-dress costumes.

‘Did she tell you about the parties?'

‘I didn't ask much, sir. I thought she and Mr de Witt were very respectable. But I didn't want my daughters to think about visiting such establishments or mixing with those sets when they were older.'

‘Why would you not wish for that, Mrs Merling?'

‘I prefer that my daughters will go to small gatherings of family and friends.'

‘So the parties that Mrs de Witt attended were not small gatherings of family and friends?'

‘No. I know little, sir, only what I have read in the newspapers, so you probably know more than me. But I understood that they were celebrations of hundreds of young people who barely knew each other, in large hotels such as the Savoy. This may be the fashion nowadays, but that is not where I expect my daughters to go.'

‘So, Mrs Merling, Mr de Witt was taking the then Miss Deer-hurst to parties that you don't consider respectable? That was hardly fair on her, was it?'

‘I believe that Miss Deerhurst wished to go. She had come to London to visit such parties. She talked so much to my daughters
about how she liked them that I had to request that she talked a little less. I believe that Mr de Witt had brought her to London at her request. But I thought that they might go to a few less parties and he could have suggested to her that she could mute the celebrations a little. He was her guardian, after all.'

‘So you thought that Mr de Witt was remiss in his duties by not taking her to other places? Museums, for example?'

‘Not remiss, sir. Just a little too indulgent, I would say.'
That's it!
thought Celia.
He was indulgent, he loved her! Go on, Mr Cedric, make something of that. Surely you can't
.

‘So the parties were very well attended?' Celia wanted to smile. He'd changed tack, couldn't do a thing with a picture of Arthur as an indulgent guardian.

‘I believe so, sir. As I said, I know little more than what I read in the newspapers.'

‘Did she mention much about a gentleman called Mr Edward Munsden?'

‘I did hear the name, sir. She told us to expect a visit from him.'

‘Did you see him?'

‘No, sir. He never visited.'

‘So, Miss Deerhurst expected a visit but she never saw him?'

‘Yes.'

‘He was a gentleman she'd met at the parties.'

‘So I understand, sir.'

‘And do you know what Mr de Witt thought about him?'

‘I believe he never mentioned him.'

‘But he was jealous of him, wasn't he?'

‘I didn't see any of that, sir.' Mrs Merling was clearly growing impatient, Celia thought. Mr Cedric could get nothing from her.

‘Wouldn't you have thought that Mr de Witt would be jealous about Mr Munsden? That he'd hate the idea of Louisa liking him, inviting him to visit, and tell her not to.'

‘I don't know anything about that.'

The judge leant forward. ‘Might we keep matters to the realm of fact, Mr Cedric?'

‘Yes, Your Honour. But, Mrs Merling, he'd get angry, wouldn't he?
Furious with Louisa. Try to force her to stay away from Mr Munsden.'

Mr Bird was waving frantically at the judge.

‘As I said, sir, I saw nothing of that.'
Oh, just you try
, said Celia in her head
. Just you try! You can't get her with your ways. She won't listen
.

‘Surely you saw him shout at Louisa about Mr Munsden?'

‘Never, sir.'

The judge tapped his bench. ‘The realm of fact, please, Mr Cedric.'

Cedric nodded. ‘But what about Miss Jennifer Redesdale? She was a lady who was close friends with Mr Munsden. They were then engaged, now married, I believe. She and Miss Deerhurst did not see eye to eye. In fact, Miss Deerhurst was far too close to Mr Munsden. Mr de Witt was furious with Miss Deerhurst about her friendship with Mr Munsden.' All the hateful words about Arthur and Louisa's time in London that Celia had read about in the papers. Now here they were, announced to everybody.

‘I know nothing about that either, sir.'

‘Oh just stop!' Celia whispered. ‘Mrs Merling won't say the hateful words you want.'

Mr Cedric paused. ‘Let us return to the subject of fancy dress. How did Miss Deerhurst dress for fancy dress?'

‘I barely remember, sir.'

‘Are you sure you cannot remember?'

‘I feel quite sure, sir.'

‘I believe that she dressed as a shepherdess for one. And then I think that she dressed as a mermaid.'

‘Yes, indeed, sir, I do recall the mermaid one, now you mention it.'

‘Did you see the mermaid costume?'

‘No, sir.'

‘Did you hear anything about the evening when Louisa dressed up as a mermaid?'

‘She told my elder daughter that she enjoyed it.'

‘Indeed? Did she tell you anything else?'

‘No, sir.'

‘It is our proposal that Miss Deerhurst made a great social
splash
dressed as a mermaid. She captured the attention of the ball. She captured the attention of Mr Munsden. Other people were jealous.'

‘I really don't know about it, sir.'

‘She didn't mention it?'

‘I recall she was unusually tired after it. And it was after that ball that she told us to expect a visit from Mr Munsden.'

‘This would suggest she had made a particular impression on him.'

‘Perhaps, sir. As you know, I was not there.'

Celia's mind drifted a little. When she returned, Mr Cedric was asking Mrs Merling about the cat. He seemed to be asking rather irrelevant questions about Petra and why she'd been bought, about Louisa loving her so much. Celia listened, wondered why he was asking all this. It was surely pointless – and actually, it only backed up their argument (well, the truth) that there was someone odd following Louisa, scaring her.