The Inquest Chapter 2: Dating Disaster

"Kate Donaldson", boomed the clerk.

A tall and slim young woman, with glossy black hair and soft brown eyes, determinedly pushed her wheelchair all the way to the witness box, trying her best to ignore the patronising stares from the gallery.

"So, Miss Donaldson", said Humphrey, "would you like to take us back to the beginning, please?"

"Yes", said Kate. "So of course, I went to Pankhurst to read history. I was happy about that, and about Samira . . ."

She suddenly broke off, and looked upwards, trying hard not to cry.

"When you want to, Miss Donaldson", said Humphrey gently.

"Thanks", breathed Kate, her voice barely audible. "Anyway, I was happy she was going with me, we'd barely been apart since our school days."

"I know this must be hard for you", offered Humphrey.

"It is", sighed Kate. "We'd known each other so long, it's just . . . so . . . awful, that she's not . . ."

She gave in to crying: it took several minutes before she could resume her testimony.

"We were very rarely apart", she said, choking on her words. "She was so loyal, so protective, so thoughtful towards me, she helped me to see the world . . ."

"What do you mean?", asked Dame Marilyn, in an abrupt tone.

"She . . . how can I put this", said Kate. "She really opened my eyes to things like unequal pay, sexual harassment, domestic abuse, all those kind of things. I mean, she wasn't perfect, I felt she might have been more inclusive towards trans people, but . . ."

She hastily stopped herself.

"So", said Humphrey awkwardly. "Could you please tell how you first met Mr. Erwin Richards?"

"Yes", said Kate, her voice shaking. "It was in the second semester of my first year at Pankhurst, me and Samira were in the library together, when this young man who'd I'd never seen before . . 

"Mr. Erwin Richards?", interjected Dame Marilyn. Kate nodded her head very slowly, then resumed her testimony.

" . . . just came up to me and said 'You're the most beautiful woman I've seen in my life. Please go out with me.' "

There was some muffled laughter in the courtroom, swiftly silenced by a stern look from Dame Marilyn.

"And how did that make you feel?", asked Humphrey.

"First of all, I was shocked", replied Kate. "Then I felt embarrassed, and a bit awkward, and I didn't feel I could say no to him."

"And what was your impression of him?", inquired Humphrey

"He looked to be shy", said Kate, "and also seemed a bit lost. He wasn't very confident, either, and he mumbled his words. I thought, this doesn't look very promising, but to be polite, I agreed to meet him in the cafe the next day."

"And what did Miss Mahmood make of him?"

"She warned me off him, telling me that he clearly didn't know how to approach or speak to women. I mean, deep down I knew she was right, but I'd given him my word, and I also felt sorry for him, being so shy, it didn't feel right to refuse him."

There was an awkward pause before Humphrey resumed his questioning

"So, the next day you went to the cafe with Mr. Richards?"

"Yes", said Kate, rather embarrassedly. "I tried to make conversation with him, but he wasn't very good at it, it was something he obviously struggled with. There were long periods of silence between us, when he was finding it hard to come up with something to say. He also kept staring at me, I found that very uncomfortable."

"Did Mr. Richards realise you felt uncomfortable?", inquired Humphrey: he was also looking rather awkward to hear this story.

Kate sighed.

"He obviously didn't", she replied, "because when we finally went our separate ways, he asked me if I would go out with him again."

"And what did you say to that?", Humphrey asked.

"Well", said Kate, speaking very slowly, "of course I wanted to be polite about it, so I told him that my diary was full up for the next few weeks."

"Did he understand what you meant by that?"

"Again, no", she said. "I probably should have told him straight, I should have realised by then that he couldn't read social signals, but, anyway, a few weeks later, again I was with Samira in the library and he came up to me again to ask me on a date."

"And what did you say to that?"

"I said . . .", replied Kate, in barely more than a whisper, and staring at the floor.

"Speak up, Miss Donaldson", upbraided Dame Marilyn.

"I told him that I was very sorry, but that I didn't think we were suited."

"And how did he react?", asked Humphrey.

"He hung his head, his face went all red, and he quickly moved away: he looked devastated. I felt really sorry for him, but I knew I'd made the right decision."

"And what did Miss Mahmood make of it all"

"She told me that he really needed some advice on relationships." Kate sighed again. "I only wish now that Pankhurst did that sort of thing."

The Inquest Chapter 1: In the Beginning

 "He was such a polite boy", she began, dabbing her eyes with her handkerchief. "I mean . . ."

She broke off, breathing heavily.

"Take your time, Miss Calvert", said Humphrey Chambers QC encouragingly.

Jenny tried to smile. She was a tall woman with short blonde hair and brown eyes. Compose yourself, she told herself, you don't want to embarrass yourself in a court room, but she was all too conscious of her tears.

After a minute or two, Humphrey tried again.

"So, Miss Calvert, you were saying . . ."

"Yes", said Jenny. "Well, like I say, he was very polite, we brought him up well. He was always very quiet, you know, never gave us any trouble or anything like that."

She stopped again, desperately trying to hold back more tears and to stop her body shaking.

"I mean", she continued, "I've often wondered if we didn't bring him up properly, it's kept me up at night, but I can't think . . . I think we brought him up OK . . ."

Her voice tailed off, and she looked down at the floor.

"Are you OK to continue, Miss Calvert?", asked Humphrey, politely but firmly.

"Yes", she replied, in barely more than a whisper. "He was always helpful to me, he would tidy his room when we asked him, he would give me a hand washing the dishes, making his bed, that sort of thing, he was very good with Amy as well, I would never have guessed . . ."

She burst into uncontrollable sobs.

"He was quite a shy boy, didn't say very much", said a thin man of medium height, with black hair and eyes. "Maybe he could have been a bit more assertive, he was a bit too sensitive for my liking, maybe we should have been more disciplined."

"But, Mr. Richards", Humphrey pointed out, "his mother has said he never gave any trouble."

"That's true", said Anthony. "Maybe I didn't say that properly, but what I meant was, had we been stricter with him, he might not have done . . . this."

"Were you disappointed in him, Mr. Richards?", asked Humphrey, his eyebrows raised.

"No, of course not", said Anthony defensively. "We used to go to the football together, he really enjoyed it," His voice now took a different tone, more affectionate, nostalgic, even. "And, of course, there was the day he got accepted by the university, he was so happy to be studying engineering, I'll never forget the smile on his face. I was so proud of him, Jenny was as well, we both thought he would go on to great things . . ."

His voice faded. There was silence, before Anthony spoke again, his voice wavering:

"I just can't understand how, I mean, when I showed my police gun to him, which I did often, he never seemed interested . . ."

"We used to play together", said Amy. She looked like a miniature version of her mother, but with her father's eyes. "Hide and seek, hopscotch, just about anything."

"Was he ever rude to you?", asked Humphrey.

"Of course not". Amy sounded shocked. "He was always very loving with me, he would hug me so tightly, and he loved nothing better than playing with me. I used to think how happy I was to have him as a brother."

"But was there anything . . . odd . . . about him?", asked Humphrey tentatively.

Amy gave him an angry look.

Dame Marilyn Sharp leaned over the side of the bench. She was a short and white-haired woman, with an impassive expression on her face.

"I think, Miss Richards", she said, "what he means is, was there anything that gave an indication about . . ."

"Absolutely nothing", said Amy emphatically. "I mean, he wasn't very good at talking to people, he would always hang back a bit whenever anybody else came up to us, but there was nothing at all . . ."

She broke off: she had a bewildered expression on her face. After a long pause, she said:

"I still have no idea what made him change."