Amelia still
isn't sure what it was she saw that day exactly, but
she is a truthful person. That poor girl
suffered a terrible wrong. The truth needs to be told.
At
their last meeting, Mr Blayney suggested she dress for the occasion, so she
purchased a brightly patterned jersey frock to guarantee confidence. She walked
briskly from the station. At the steps, Mr Blayney and Mr Winter glanced at her
then quickly looked away.
She approved: staring seldom conveys anything
complimentary to a lady.
They
accompanied her inside, but left her to settle themselves at a long table. She
waited quietly until her name was called. As she made her way to the front,
someone in the side seats nudged his neighbour and said softly,
‘There’s something you don’t see every day, eh mate?’
An inconvenient flush travelled from her chest to her scalp.
She
answered each of Mr Blayney’s questions clearly, and gradually a picture
of the events emerged.
Mr Blayney thanked her and sat down.
Then, a Mr Cahill
stood and began to ask the same questions, all over again. Such a terrible
waste of time, she thought; but perhaps repetition would clarify?
She
had just returned and was unlocking her front door when she saw that young man
– she gestured then waited patiently for an interruption concerning
‘the record’ to finish – stop his silver sports car.
He called
out to the girl – another interruption while her identity was established
– who was sitting at the kerb a little way down the street. She had been
curious, so she had delayed entering her house.
No, she had not heard all their
conversation, exactly. Mr Cahill seemed lost in thought for a long moment. She
volunteered that the youth’s tone was clearly unfriendly – another
interruption while something was struck.
Then?
He raised his hand, and she was
in no doubt that a threat was made, which led to another tiresome interruption.
The car drove off, and she immediately went to the telephone stand in her
hallway to record its licence plate. She was now very glad that she… Yes,
she would try to confine her answers… No, she was not yet back outside
when the fatal collision itself occurred, but she saw the same silver…
No, she could not see the license plate on the car clearly that time, but
she… No, she had not seen the driver at all...
Mr Cahill seemed very
pleased when, like Mr Blayney, he thanked her and sat down.
She
noticed the young man in his new navy suit staring at her, his head tilted, a
slight smile on his lips. She wondered, perhaps he doesn’t speak our
language?
It
was over soon after. Amelia didn’t follow everything, but it appeared the
judge was very uneasy. Little, he felt, had been reasonably proven.
For such a tight short story this one packs a punch. The naivety of Amelia, captured in the narration, leaves her vulnerable but unaware - the reader fears for her. The ending led me to a closer re-reading and I appreciated the embedding of the court's languages and processes - and of course its shortcomings.
ReplyDelete