Page 69 of In Just One Day

‘Yes, please.’

Denise stood up to go.

‘Mum?’

She turned to her son, his ashen face looking up at her.

‘I’m sorry.’

‘I know you are, Stephen. Let’s just get this done. We’ll be all right.’ She smiled at him, hoping she looked more reassuring than she felt. She went to the kitchen and put some bacon under the grill. Then she broke eggs into a glass bowl, slaking them with a knife. As she stood there, the sound of metal rhythmically hitting glass, she closed her eyes and sent up a silent prayer. Their lives had been shattered that August night, the days afterwards a blur. She thought back to that small, stuffy room at the police station, where an appointed lawyer, Mr Sawyer, had explained that Stephen should plead not guilty to a charge of death by careless driving.

She’d watched her son retreat into himself ever since, Denise trying to find the right things to say, but the hideousness of what had happened was always there. She’d barely slept more than a few hours at a time, for months. She often felt as if in a dream, or rather a nightmare, wishing desperately for someone to wake her.

Now they sat in silence, Denise drinking more tea whilst her son pushed his breakfast around his plate.

‘You need to eat.’

‘I can’t.’ He didn’t look up, his voice breaking.

‘Come on, you need strength for today.’

‘Mum, I killed someone.’

‘I know. And I wish we could change that, but we can’t. So, you just need to tell them what happened, in the courtroom. Just as Mr Sawyer said. That’s all you can do.’

Slowly Stephen raised his eyes. ‘Mum, I don’t think I can do it.’

‘I’m afraid you don’t have a choice. But no matter what happens, I’ll be there. Now, try and eat. I’m going to go and get ready; we’re being collected in about an hour.’

‘OK.’ His hand trembled as he tried to scoop up some eggs with his fork. He let it drop to the plate with a clatter, blinking back tears. Pushing his plate away, he stood and went back to his room, sat on the edge of the bed and looked at the suit. Next to it, on the floor, was a bag he’d packed the night before, together with his mother’s help. It contained some clothes, a pair of trainers and a washbag. Denise had insisted he take the earplugs she’d bought him, along with a stack of paper and stamped envelopes with their address on the front.

Stephen had known this day would come, had even told himself he was prepared to face it. But all he wanted to do, right then and there, was shut the door and never come out of his room.

* * *

They sat in the taxi, Denise trying to answer the driver’s questions politely whilst giving nothing away. Stephen looked out of the window as the court buildings loomed into view, drab and unassuming. The day was grey and overcast, the air heavy.

Mr Sawyer greeted them as arranged, carrying bundles of paper. He was a large man, the buttons on his shirt struggling to hold the strained material in place, his eyes jet black like a shark’s. Together, Denise, Stephen and Mr Sawyer made their way inside and, after going through a lengthy security check, were shown into a small room off to the side of the courtroom.

Mr Sawyer hung up his overcoat on the back of the door. ‘Right, we might be here for some time, just to warn you. The hearing is due to start at nine thirty but we’ll see. For now, we wait. Can I get you some coffee?’

‘No, thank you.’ Denise managed a small smile.

Stephen shook his head, too, his gaze fixed on the floor.

‘Right, well. I shan’t be long.’

‘Actually, do you mind if I just go and find the ladies first?’

‘No, of course. Right out of there, down the hall, second on the left.’ Mr Sawyer gestured which way Denise should head.

‘Thank you, I won’t be a moment.’ As she walked along the corridor, she passed an older couple coming down a flight of stairs, flanked by another man carrying papers. Denise looked at them, her eyes meeting the woman’s for a fleeting second. The woman hadn’t even noticed her, but Denise knew. She had similar features, the same bright eyes as the woman she’d seen in the churchyard. She watched them disappear as they walked on down the long corridor in the opposite direction. She felt suddenly weak and her vision blurred before black started to close in around her. Then nothing…

* * *

‘Mrs Hirst, can you hear me?’ Denise tried to focus. She could just make out a face, the words coming to her as if through a fog. ‘How are you feeling? You gave us a bit of a scare there.’

Denise took a sip of the water from the paper cup being held to her lips. She swallowed slowly. Things started to come back into focus. She could make out Mr Sawyer in a chair opposite and, to his left, Stephen.