Page 94 of Maybe Tomorrow

‘What did he do when he came home?’

‘He took off his clothes and I put them into the washer for him. He went straight to bed.’

‘He didn’t go to work the following morning?’

‘No. He’d caught a bit of a cold from being out in the storm. I phoned the manager, Jane Wilkinson, and told her he was ill. He went into work the following day instead.’

‘I know you’re his mother, but at any point did you think Anthony had raped and murdered Alice Patterson?’

‘No—’

‘With respect, Your Honour,’ Stefan Villiers interrupted Pauline. ‘We’re not seeking the opinion of someone who has as much knowledge of the event as the rest of us and has a vested interest in the verdict.’

‘I withdraw the question,’ Ronald said before the judge could intervene. ‘I have no further questions, Your Honour.’

‘Mr Villiers,’ the Judge instructed.

Stefan Villiers picked up his pad and walked to the centre of the court room.

Pauline looked over to Leo who gave her an encouraging smile. She looked to Ronald Montgomery who nodded his head. They had no idea what questions Stefan was going to ask, but he had told her to remain calm and to look at him if she needed guidance.

‘Good morning, Mrs Winstanley,’ Stefan said with a friendly smile. ‘May I call you Pauline?’

‘Of course,’ she replied.

‘I can’t even begin to imagine what you’re going through right now, so I won’t keep you for long.’

‘Thank you.’ She returned his smile.

‘Firstly, Pauline, is Anthony your only child?’

‘Yes.’

‘And how old is he?’

She was taken aback by the question. ‘He’s twenty-eight.’

‘Are you sure?’

She looked to Ronald whose face was blank. She turned back to Stefan. ‘Yes.’

‘Only, in your replies to Mr Montgomery’s carefully staged questions, you refer to Anthony, your twenty-eight-year-old son, as a good boy on two occasions. Why is that?’

‘Because he is good.’

‘But he’s no longer a boy. In the eyes of the law he’s been a man for ten years, yet you still refer to him as a boy. Why is that?’

Pauline had no idea how to answer. ‘He’s my son. I’m his mum.’

‘We’re all aware of the relationship between you, Pauline. You also said in your answers to my learned colleague’s questions that he doesn’t have any friends his own age, that he prefers the company of grown-ups. Isn’t twenty-eight a grown-up age?’

‘Yes. It is, but?—’

‘Do you consider your son to be a grown-up?’ Stefan interrupted.

‘In years, yes, but?—’

‘Who got him the job at the library?’