'Thank you, Sir Giles. I have no further questions.'
The judge asked both counsel to rise. 'Following Sir Giles Barrington's evidence, if there are no objections, it is my intention to open the envelope.'
Both counsel nodded, aware that if they did object, it would only leave grounds for an appeal. In any case, neither believed there was a judge in the land who wouldn't dismiss any objection to the envelope being opened.
Mr Justice Cameron held up the envelope so that everyone in court could see it clearly. He slit it open and pulled out a single sheet of paper which he placed on the desk in front of him. He read it three times before he spoke.
'Mr Siddons,' he said finally.
The Barrington family solicitor rose nervously from his place.
'Can you tell me the date and the precise time that Lady Barrington died?'
Siddons shuffled through some papers before he found the document he was looking for. He looked up at the judge and said, 'I can confirm, sir, that the death certificate was signed at ten twenty-six p.m. on Thursday the twenty-sixth of July, 1951.'
'I am obliged, Mr Siddons. I shall now retire to my chambers to consider the significance of this piece of evidence. The court will adjourn for half an hour.'
'It didn't look like a letter to me,' said Emma as their little group, heads down, gathered in a huddle. 'More like an official document. Did she sign anything else that day, Mr Siddons?'
Siddons shook his head. 'Not in my presence she didn't. Any ideas, Mr Todd?'
'It was very thin. It might have been a newspaper cutting, but at that distance I couldn't be sure.'
'Why ever did you allow the judge to open the letter, Giles?' Virginia hissed from the other side of the courtroom.
'Given the circumstances, Lady Virginia, your husband had little choice,' said Sir Cuthbert. 'Although I believe we had the case wrapped up until that last-minute intervention.'
'What can the judge be doing?' asked Emma, unable to mask how nervous she was.
Harry took his wife's hand. 'It won't be long now, darling.'
'If the judgment goes against us,' said Virginia, 'can we still claim that whatever was in the envelope is inadmissible?'
'I can't answer that question,' said Sir Cuthbert, 'until I've had a chance to study it. The contents might well prove that your husband was correct in suggesting that his mother was in no fit state to sign an important legal document during the final hours of her life, in which case it will be the other side who will have to decide whether or not to appeal.'
Both parties were still heads down, whispering in their respective corners, like boxers waiting for the bell to release them for the final round, when the door behind the judge's chair opened and the referee reappeared.
Everyone in court stood and bowed before Mr Justice Cameron resumed his place in the high-backed chair. He stared down at a dozen expectant faces.
'I have now had the opportunity to study the contents of the envelope.' Everyone's eyes remained fixed on him. 'I was fascinated to discover that Lady Barrington and I share a hobby, although I confess she was a far more accomplished exponent than I am, because on Thursday the twenty-sixth of July, she completed The Times crossword puzzle, leaving only one clue blank, which I have no doubt she did in order to prove her point. The reason I found it necessary to leave you was that I needed to visit the library in order to get hold of a copy of The Times for the following day, Friday July the twenty-seventh - the day after Lady Barrington died. I wanted to check if she had made any mistakes in the previous day's crossword puzzle, which she hadn't, and to confirm the answer to the one clue she'd left blank. Having done so, I am in no doubt that Lady Barrington was not only capable of signing a will, but was well aware of the significance of its contents. I am therefore ready to pass judgment in this case.'
Sir Cuthbert was quickly on his feet. 'M'lud, I am curious to know, what was the missing clue that helped you reach your judgment?'
Mr Justice Cameron looked down at the crossword puzzle. Twelve across, six and six, common pests I confused when in my right mind.'
Sir Cuthbert bowed, and a smile crossed Harry's face.
'I therefore find in the case of Barrington versus Clifton and Barrington, in favour of Mrs Harold Clifton and Miss Grace Barrington.'
'We must appeal,' said Virginia, as Sir Cuthbert and Mr Todd bowed low.
'I shall not be appealing,' said Giles. 'Even my Latin is up to that.'
'You were pathetic,' said Virginia as she stormed out of the courtroom.
'But Harry is my oldest friend,' Giles said, chasing after her.
'And I'm your wife, just in case you've forgotten.' Virginia pushed her way through the swing doors and hurried out on to the Strand.
'But what else could I have done, given the circumstances?' he asked once he'd caught up with her.
'You could have fought tooth and nail for what was rightly ours, as you promised you would,' she reminded him before hailing a cab.
'But isn't it possible that the judge was right when he said my mother knew exactly what she was doing?'
'If you believe that, Giles,' said Virginia, turning to face him, 'you obviously hold the same low opinion of me that she did.'
Giles was left speechless as a taxi drew up. Virginia opened the door, climbed in and wound down the window.
'I'm going to stay with my mother for a few days. If you haven't lodged an appeal by the time I get back, I suggest you seek advice from a solicitor who specializes in divorce.'
15
THERE WAS A firm rap on the front door. Giles checked his watch: 7.20 p.m. Who could it possibly be? He hadn't invited anyone for dinner, and he wasn't expected back at the House to hear the closing speeches until nine. A second rap, equally firm, and he remembered it was the housekeeper's night off. He placed yesterday's copy of Hansard on the side table, pushed himself up out of his chair and was heading towards the corridor when there was a third rap.
'Hold your horses,' Giles said. He pulled open the door to find the last person he would have expected standing on his doorstep in Smith Square.
'Grace?' he said, unable to mask his surprise.
'It's a relief to discover you still remember my name,' said his sister as she stepped inside.
Giles tried to think of an equally sharp rejoinder, but as he hadn't been in touch with his sister since the day of his mother's funeral, he had to accept that her barbed remark was justified. In truth, he hadn't been in contact with any of the family since Virginia had stormed out of the courtroom and left him standing on the pavement outside.
'What brings you to London, Grace?' he asked rather feebly, as he led his sister down the corridor and into the drawing room.
'You,' she replied. 'If Mohammed, etcetera.'
'Can I get you a drink?' he asked, still wondering what she could possibly want, unless . . .
'Thanks, a dry sherry would go down well, after that ghastly train journey.'
Giles walked across to the sideboard and poured her a sherry, and a half tumbler of whisky for himself, as he desperately searched for something to say. 'I've got a vote at ten,' he eventually managed, passing Grace her drink. His younger sister always made him feel like a naughty schoolboy who'd been caught smoking by the headmaster.