A Game of Proof by Tim Vicary Page B

an old argument, but the rest of her family had never really accepted it. Like that detective, Terry Bateson, yesterday.
    ‘Oh, come on, mum - you must have an opinion! Hasn’t he told you?’
    ‘Yes. He’s told me he didn’t do it and I have to respect that. Isn’t that what you’d want, if I was defending you?’
    ‘Yeah, but I mean, Gary Harker! He’s a right hard case. And all that stuff with the knife and the mask and the little kid - if he did all that he should have his balls cut off!’
    ‘If he did it, Simon, yes,’ said Sarah sarcastically. ‘And if he didn’t? What then?’
    ‘He’s still a pillock. I’ve met him - remember?’
    ‘So have I. I’ll remember your views when I have to defend you. In the meantime ...’ She stood up, looking for a litter bin for the sandwich wrappers. ‘... even pillocks need defending, so I’d better get back. Coming?’
    ‘Maybe, for a bit. Nowt else to do.’
    Once again his answer irritated and pleased her at the same time. As they walked back, two young female backpackers, sunbathing in bra and shorts and heavy boots, glanced at Simon appreciatively, and for a moment Sarah saw him through their eyes and thought how attractive he was, this tall muscular young man who was her son. If only she could be more proud of him; but there was always this awkwardness between them. Impulsively, as they approached the court, they turned to each other and both began to speak at once.
    ‘Simon, would you like me to come round to your house after ...’
    ‘How’s Emily?’
    Recovering, Sarah spoke first. ‘Emily’s fine. Worried about her GCSEs though. I went to a concert of hers last night.’ She paused. ‘Would you like ...?’
    ‘My place is a bit of a tip at the moment ...’
    ‘I don’t mind. I could help you to clear it up.’
    ‘Not your scene really is it, mum? You’ve got books to read, pillocks to defend. I’ll see you around.’
    She sighed. ‘All right then. Any time, Simon, really. Just drop round.’
    ‘Yes.’ Living near each other in the same city, separated by emotion rather than distance, they had never really solved the issue of whether to kiss or embrace at parting. Other people seemed to manage it well but they were not a family who touched much. So now she just gave him her hand. ‘See you then.’
    ‘I’m coming to watch, remember?’ Trying to make amends, he drew her to him briefly and kissed the top of her head as though she were a child. Then, going up the steps past Julian Lloyd-Davies who stood watching with his junior, Simon said loudly: ‘I’ll be in’t gallery then, mum. Ready to gob on’t pillock’s head if he interrupts again!’

Chapter Seven
    W HEN SARAH entered court everyone else apart from the judge was already in their places. Hurriedly, she poured herself a glass of water, and scanned the questions on her pad.
    ‘All stand!’ the clerk called, and everyone rose. Judge Gray entered, bowed, and sat down. Everyone except Sarah resumed their seats. Despite her hurried entry she felt quite calm, clear in her mind about what she had to do.
    ‘Now, Ms Gilbert, you say you met Mr Harker at a party at the Royal Station Hotel on Saturday 14th October. What time did you arrive?’
    ‘About eight, eight thirty, I suppose.’
    ‘And you left just before midnight, you said?’
    ‘Yes. I had to get home because of the kids.’
    ‘Yes. Your little girl was ill, I think you said. So you stayed at this party for what? Three  hours? Four?’ Sarah glanced at the jury, hoping they would take the point about Sharon’s standard of child care.
    ‘About that, yeah.’
    ‘I see. And while you were there, what did you drink?’
    ‘Vodka and lime. That’s what I usually have.’
    ‘That’s the only thing you drink, is it?’
    ‘Usually, yes. Sometimes a glass of wine or a gin.’
    ‘All right. So you went to this party to enjoy yourself, and you were there for three or four hours. Think back, Ms Gilbert. So how many vodka