Page 111 of Maybe Tomorrow

She returned his smile. ‘Let’s do it.’

The next morning, they woke late and ordered room service. Malcolm had gone for eggs Benedict while Jennifer stuck to scrambled eggs on granary toast. They sat in their matching dressing gowns, basking in the glow of their love-making. She’d stopped taking the contraceptive pill almost a year ago and was thankful their busy lives meant they didn’t have much chance for sex, despite Malcolm being overly keen to start a family. The closer he came to being named a member of the Cabinet, the more he wanted a child. It would look good to the Prime Minister, to the press, to the voters, for the new Home Secretary to be a family man.

Jennifer knew what Malcolm was doing was blatantly self-serving, and she didn’t want a child to be born to further its father’s career. Love should be the first priority for a child, not status. As she sat at the dressing table and combed her hair, she realised she was doing the same thing. She was using the potential of having a child to please the new Home Secretary, her husband, and get him on board to help get Anthony Winstanley’s case fast-tracked to a retrial or a pardon. She suddenly felt guilty and crossed her fingers there wasn’t a new life growing inside her.

There was a knock on the door. Breakfast was here. They sat down at the table and Jennifer poured them both a cup of coffee.

‘I, er, I had a call last week from Freya Sloan,’ Jennifer began, once they were eating.

‘Oh yes?’ Malcolm scooped up some eggs onto his fork.

‘Yes. She’s tracked down Alison Barnaby.’

‘Who?’

‘One of the prostitutes who gave a statement about Anthony Winstanley. She didn’t appear in court, but her statement was put forward as evidence. Anyway, she told Freya that DI Bishop paid her twenty pounds to give that statement.’

‘Really?’

‘Yes.’ She looked at him hopefully.

‘It doesn’t help you, though, does it?’

‘Why not?’

‘Well, she wasn’t in court. She didn’t go on the witness stand and lie under oath, did she? All you’ve got is confirmation of what you already know; that Bishop was dodgy.’

‘True, but don’t you see what it means? If one of the women was paid to lie, the others were, too.’

‘You don’t know that for sure.’

‘Not for sure, no, but it’s a possibility.’

‘Anything’s a possibility,’ he said, picking up his coffee cup and taking a sip. ‘I’ve got a Cabinet meeting at ten. What are your plans for the day?’

‘I haven’t decided yet. Going back to Anthony?—’

‘No,’ he said firmly, slamming his cup down on the table. ‘I’m tired of hearing his name, Jennifer. You know, months can go by without you mentioning him, and then suddenly we get a short burst of you bending over backwards to get him released, and then it’s silence again. Is this some kind of pet project for you? Because if it is, it’s not fair on him or his mother.’

Jennifer looked at him with daggers. ‘No, it is not a pet project. You know how slow this process is, and the charity has a small budget and a lot of cases to work on. I’d love to prioritise Anthony’s case, but it’s not possible. We’ve now finally got the chance to do something worthwhile here.’

He looked at her in silence. Suddenly, the penny dropped. ‘We?’ he asked.

‘You’re Home Secretary. You have the power to have Anthony’s case looked at by the Appeals Court. A major miscarriage of justice has occurred and it?—’

‘Hang on a minute.’ He held up his hands. ‘Why would I want to get involved in this?’

‘I’m sorry?’

‘Jennifer, I don’t know how many times we’re going to have this same conversation, but it’s starting to wear thin, and frankly, I’m starting to get seriously pissed off,’ he said. There was acid in his tone. ‘Now, one final time, Anthony was found guilty. The verdict was unanimous. He’s behind bars, where he should be. End of story.’

Jennifer sat back. ‘You’re not going to help?’

‘No. I’m not.’

‘Anthony is innocent.’

‘You need to stop saying that. You will do your career, and the charity, no good at all if you continue to associate with a rapist and a murderer.’