Page 62 of Cuckoo

I bite my lip so hard I can taste blood.

‘And your daughter knew you were worried about her?’

‘Yes, of course. What mother doesn’t worry about her daughter?’

I feel a stab in my gut, a loss of breath as though I’ve been punched.

‘And is it fair to say that Lilah mentioning the altercation was… a big deal? That she wouldn’t have worried you for no reason?’

‘Yes, I suppose now, in hindsight, I should have probed more, asked more questions. She must have been shaken by it to have mentioned it to me in a call.’

‘Thank you, I have no further questions.’

I take a shaky breath as Grosvenor steps up to take her turn and question Maja.

‘Mrs Andersson, considering what we have discovered about Mr Coors’s womanising in the course of this trial, is it fair to say that when he told you that the defendant was “unstable”, he could have been covering his own back? Distancing himself from her to avoid your daughter finding out about another affair?’

Maja frowns, one shaking hand tweaking at her lower lip absent-mindedly. ‘Yes, I suppose that could be possible.’ She turns to look at me, and though she says nothing, I can see it in her critical glance.Why would Noah cheat with that pathetic woman when he already had my Lilah?

I force myself to blink and slowly look away, not let her see that I can hear her thoughts and they hurt me.

‘And is it also possible that when your daughter said Miss Arundale was obsessed with Mr Coors, in fact this could have been something made up entirely by him, to avoid any possibility of their affair being discovered?’

‘Yes… it is possible,’ Maja admits slowly, realisation beginning to dawn on her, and alongside her, the jury. They have begun to look at me directly, as though unsure what they believe and wanting to see if they can work it out. Workmeout.

‘So what you’re accepting is that you have no proof whatsoever that what your daughter or Mr Coors said about the defendant is true. That this entire testimony has been essentially a case of he said/she said?’ Grosvenor challenges her.

‘Objection!’ Dodgson stands up, looking indignant.

The judge nods to Grosvenor and waves a dismissive hand at Dodgson. ‘Objection overruled.’

‘No further questions,’ Grosvenor finishes up.

I press my lips together to keep myself from smiling.

Chapter Fifty-Five

Harry Barton

It’s the final testimony of the day and I’m the most exhausted I’ve been so far, my eyes swollen and puffy and the ever-present migraine ripping through my skull. Every time I think about Noah, it seems to drill deeper.

‘Mr Barton, how long have you known Mr Coors?’ Dodgson asks.

The young man on the stand looks laidback, his stance straight, shoulders relaxed. I know him, though he hasn’t yet made eye contact with me. Noah’s best friend, Harry. He is pale, his normally dark skin dulled. I wonder if he is always so sickly-hued, or if it is exhaustion from staying up while comforting Noah.

‘Twenty-two years, sir.’

‘And in this time, you’ve known Mr Coors’s girlfriends? His crushes?’

‘As far as I’m aware, I have known everything from his first week-long crush in year seven through to his relationship with Lilah.’

‘Why do you saythrough towhen referencing Lilah Andersson?’

Harry Barton shrugs lightly, as though it’s obvious. ‘Because she was his last proper relationship. They’ve been together ages.’ He recognises his error and winces. ‘Theyweretogether ages. He was going to marry her.’

I stare at Harry, then shrink back in surprise when he glares right back, entirely unfazed. He is the first witness who has seemed totally in control of their emotions, their hatred of me. It makes me want to burst into tears, because he seems sorealup there, so completely within his rights to be angry with me, to hate me. Yet still, he lies. Hehadto have known about me, the way I knew about him. I admit, I haven’t met him in person before, but Noah mentioned him in passing to me several times: Harry was a major presence throughout Noah’s teenage years. Surely as a major presence in his more mature life, I would have been mentioned by Noah in my turn? Or perhaps not. Perhaps he was lying about that, on top of everything else, when he told me his friends were pleased he was settling down with me. I don’t know what to believe anymore.

Realising the levels of deceit that have been practised for so long, not just in Noah’s dealings with me, but with his friends and family as well, hits me like a double-decker bus; the notion that he could have lied to us all, broken my trust so completely, kept me a secret and led his double life behind my back. Theremustbe a logical reason for it all. My hopes are resting on this trial ending with a lightbulb going on over my head, a resounding explanation for all of this madness, the final comfort of clarity and understanding. I am owed that much at least. How can one person play so many others for fools?

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