The Girl in a Swing

a series of answers to the coroner, all of which were written

  down.

  'Was she clothed?'

  'No, sir.'

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  'Not at all?'

  'No, sir.'

  'Did she seem distressed?'

  'Very much so, sir.'

  'Was she weeping?'

  'Well, yes; cryin', sir, sort of.'

  'Did she seem frightened?'

  'Yes, sir.'

  'Did you form any idea of what?'

  'Well - 'seemed like she was afraid of somethin' or somebody,

  sir. I mean, like she was runnin' away - that's to say,

  best as she could.'

  'Did she say anything?'

  'Nothin' as you could understand at all, sir. She said one

  or two things, like, but they was in a foreign language and I

  couldn't understand 'en. All kind of mixed up, they seemed.'

  'Was she wounded or bruised at all?'

  'Not as I saw, sir."

  'Was she bleeding? I mean, from the private parts?"

  'No, sir. Not as I noticed."

  'Did you notice whether she was wearing any wedding

  ring or otherwise?'

  'She definitely hadn't no ring on, sir.'

  He went on to tell of wrapping her up as best he could

  and driving her to the hospital. No one else wanted to ask

  him any questions and he left the court.

  'The police don't really come into the picture with regard

  to Mrs Desland, do they, Superintendent?" asked the coroner.

  'No, sir. Except that Constable Thatcher accompanied Mr

  Desland into Mrs Desland's ward at the hospital and was

  there with him for a time.'

  'Very well. Then let's take the evidence of the medical

  witnesses next.'

  He looked round inquiringly and Dr Fraser stood up.

  'Now, Dr Fraser,' said the coroner, when he had taken the

  oath, 'you received this poor young woman when she was

  brought into the Casualty Department, did you?'

  'No, sir,' replied Fraser. 'That duty was carried out by ma

  colleague, Dr Pritchard. He's no* able to be here this morn369

  ing, because of an urrgent case from which he could no" verra

  well be spared. But Ah'm the senior gynaecological consultant

  of the hospital, and by yere courtesy, sir, an' if you yersel'

  think that it's satisfactory, Dr Sullivan, the pathological

  consultant, and I are here to give ye a full account of what

  happened. That's on behalf of the hospital as a whole, d'ye

  see. Ye'll appreciate that it's no verra practical to take too

  many dorctors off duty at once. Ah should emphasize that

  Ah masel' was called to attend Mrs Desland before her death,

  so Ah'm well able to give ye all the medical details of the

  matter.'

  The coroner, looking down at his notes, was considering

  this when I felt Lucas stir beside me. As he was about to

  stand up I touched his arm and whispered, 'That's all right.'

  'But we certainly ought to have the Casualty ward doctor

  here,' he whispered back. 'You told me he treated you harshly

  and accused you of harming your wife. The coroner ought

  to know that.'

  'No, Brian, I don't want that. Please.'

  He hesitated a moment, then whispered, 'Very well,' and

  sat back.

  Ts everyone agreeable to Dr Fraser representing the hospital?'

  asked the coroner, looking at us. Lucas nodded.

  As Dr Fraser spoke of the episiotomy scar and the evidence

  of a previous birth, and then went on to explain tubal infection,

  ectopic pregnancy and the difficulty of diagnosing

  immediately an early rupture in an unknown patient unable

  to converse or answer questions, I began to feel nausea

  and mounting dread. It seemed as though Kathe's body,

  fouled and contorted with pain, was lying stretched on the

  floor of the court for all to stare at; a desolate temple, whose

  doors hung sagging, where dried dung littered the cracked

  and broken paving and dead leaves, blown on the wind,

  pattered against the scrawled walls. I shut my eyes. '0

  Kathe, come and stop it! You must stop it! Only tell me how

  to stop them!'

  My mother, putting her hand on mine, whispered, 'Do you

  want to go out, darling?'

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  'You say there may be no visible bleeding at all?' asked

  the coroner.

  'Ay, that's right, sir. There may well be no sign of bleeding

  for many hours. Nor was there in this case. The bleeding's

  internal, d'ye see; from the ruptured Fallopian tube

  into the abdominal cavity.'

  'Do you want to go out, Alan dear?'

  'Then in what way does death occur?'

  'I'm all right,' I answered, clenching my hands and wiping

  the sweat from my forehead. 'I'm all right.'

  'Well, in this case, verra soon after Ah'd been called to

  examine the patient on Tuesday evening, there ensued all that

  Ah feared but expected. There was a sudden, massive intraperitoneal

  haemorrhage. There was no overt metrorrhagea that's

  to say, external bleeding - but Ah felt sure that the

  patient must be suffering pain and we gave an appropriate

  injection. Soon after there was a severe collapse, marked by

  low blood pressure, a subnormal temperature and a weak,

  rapid pulse. We gave a transfusion and took all appropriate

  resuscitative measures, but death followed about two hours

  later. It was a wretched, tragic business, sir."

  The coroner wrote for some little time.

  'Now, Dr Eraser, remembering that you are on oath, I

  hope you will be very careful to give a conscientious and

  considered answer to my next question. In your opinion,

  could Mrs Desland's death have been prevented?'

  'No!' I felt myself on the point of shouting. 'No! No! It

  couldn't! Why can't you all go to hell and leave me alone

  with her?'

  'This, of course, is what one always asks oneself,' replied

  Fraser slowly. 'Dorctors are no different from the rest of

  mankind, sir, ye ken. They're aye strugglin' wi" difficult problems

  and intractable material. There's always the margin of

  error. But let me say this. These ectopic cases vary verra

  much. Some are painful but not dangerous; some are serious

  but no' fatal. And some are fatal. In my experience, once

  rupture has taken place, especially in such a case as this,

  where the patient is inarticulate and already in a bad con371

  dition before she comes into medical hands, then if the rupture

  is serious and potentially of a fatal nature, there's every

  danger of losing the patient. Ah cannot say more than that.'

  The coroner pressed him a little further and then called

  Sullivan and questioned him about the post-mortem; but I

  had ceased to pay attention. When Nurse Dempster silently

  passed me two tablets and some water in a plastic cup, I

  swallowed them without hesitation. I suppose it was valium

  - I don't know. I'm here, Kathe, I kept thinking. I won't leave

  you. I'm suffering with you, my love. I always will.

  When I looked up and tried once more to pay attention,

  the police were giving evidence. I listened for a while.

  Foolish stuff. A report to the
station - a car sent out - Mr

  Desland - brambles - lacerations - distress. I knew it all. But

  I had not been expecting the conclusion.

  'What do you say she said?'

  'The lady spoke in German, sir, as Mr Desland was good

  enough to inform me in reply to my asking him. He told me

  the meaning of what she said.'

  'And what was that?'

  ' "I had no pity," sir.'

  'But you can't testify on oath, can you, that this is the

  meaning of what she said?'

  'No, sir.'

  'Well, that's all, then. Thank you, constable.'

  There was a pause, which gradually became an intermission

  as the coroner, absorbed in his notes, bent over his

  desk, re-reading, making amendments here and there and

  finally writing at some length on a fresh sheet. A certain relaxation

  spread through the court and people began to

  fidget and converse in low voices. Two of the reporters got

  up and went outside. Another sharpened a fresh pencil,

  half-turning, in the bad light, towards the window behind

  him.

  Dr Fraser, I thought, was a humane man. Had his despair,

  as he watched Kathe dying and knew there was nothing he

  could do about it, felt anything like mine now?

  At length the coroner straightened his back and looked

  round the court.

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  'Well, order order," he said quietly, in an expressionless

  tone. 'We'll proceed.' Having waited for silence, he turned

  towards me.

  'Mr Desland, I ought now to explain to you the extent of

  my responsibilities in this matter. As of course you know,

  I have first and foremost the duty to inquire into the cause

  of your wife's death. It's already clear that she died from

  very unfortunate natural causes and no one is going to dispute

  that. But I also have the duty to inquire into the circumstances

  attendant upon the death, and these, as I'm sure

  you'll agree, were unusual. In fact, there are several things

  which must strike any normal person as somewhat out of

  the ordinary. I assure you once again that I sincerely wish to

  avoid adding to your distress; but you would agree, would

  you not, that it's better that I should ask questions and

  give you the opportunity to answer them, than that they

  should remain unanswered now and perhaps be asked

  later by others, behind your back, when you can't answer

  them?'

  'Yes, sir.'

  He nodded. 'Then I would like to ask you, please, to tell us

  in your own words what passed between you and your wife

  that morning; and in doing so to bear in mind, if you will,

  one or two specific questions which have occurred to me.

  I've written them down and I'll pass them to you in a

  moment for your convenience, but first I should like to make

  them clear to the court. You must understand, Mr Desland,

  that no one is accusing you of anything. I'm merely seeking

  information. You realize that?'

  'Yes, sir.'

  'Well, I note first, that you and your wife lived at Newbury,

  and I gather that you'd both driven down from there by car

  on Tuesday morning last. That's a hundred miles or thereabouts.

  You must have made a very early start indeed. I

  don't know whether this was the beginning of a planned

  holiday, or whether you'd made any previous arrangements

  to stay in this or any other neighbourhood. But the police,

  when they telephoned your shop that afternoon, certainly

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  understood from your employee that she'd been expecting

  you as usual that morning. Perhaps you can tell us something

  about that.

  'Then - and I'm sincerely sorry, Mr Desland, to be cornpelled

  by my duty to go into matters which normally, of

  course, everyone is entitled to regard as being of a private

  and personal nature - it seems that you and your wife had

  sexual intercourse on the beach. The place was entirely

  deserted, no doubt, but some people might perhaps think

  that this was rather unusual for a married couple with a

  home of their own and every opportunity for privacy. And

  either before or about that time, apparently, your wife's

  wedding ring must have been removed. I understand that

  you have it - or had it - together with another ring of hers,

  in your possession.

  'And then, for some reason, you became separated from

  one another. I suppose any reasonable person, considering

  the matter dispassionately, would be bound to think that

  somewhat strange. Naturally, one wonders what may have

  taken place to bring the separation about and how it was

  that she came to be found by Mr Sims, wandering beside the

  road without her clothes, apparently frightened, incoherent

  and out of her mind.'

  He paused. Without looking up, I could feel upon me the

  eyes of everyone in the court.

  'Now, some considerable time later - about an hour later,

  perhaps - the police are searching the area, following Mrs

  Desland's admission to hospital, and they find you quite

  badly cut about, lacerated by brambles and stung by nettles

  - er - let me see - yes, here it is - Constable Thatcher

  said, "His face badly swollen into lumpy patches by what

  appeared to be nettle stings." And when the police told you

  that your wife had been taken to hospital because she was

  ill, you replied, "I'm sure she is."

  'Of course, if Mrs Desland had been able to tell us anything

  about this herself, we should know more. She wasn't

  able to do this. But one thing we know she said, just as you

  and Constable Thatcher were leaving her room at the hospital.

  You told the constable that she said, in German, "I had

  374

  no pity". That, of course, rests entirely on your own reply

  to him and you may perhaps be going to tell us that it's

  not accurate. But if it is accurate, I wonder whether you can

  tell me what it may have meant. Did it mean "I showed no

  pity", or "I received no pity?" '

  He came to a stop and I looked up to meet, behind the

  rimless glasses, his steady, inexpressive eyes. After a moment

  he picked up the top sheet of paper lying in front of him

  and held it out. Brian got up, took it from him and laid it

  in front of me.

  'Well, now, Mr Desland,' went on the coroner, 'those are

  merely reflections, and I certainly don't want you to regard

  them as a cross-examination or a questionnaire that you've

  got to answer, or anything of that sort.' (How terribly effective,

  I thought, was this moderation. It lay upon you as

  lightly and closely as a net.) 'I want you to feel free to tell

  me just as much or as little as you wish, and of course, if

  you prefer, you need not say anything at all. Perhaps I

  should have made that clear earlier, but I thought your

  decision might to some extent be dependent on what I've

  just said.'

  At this moment my attention was distracted. The door of

  the court opened and a young woman in a streaming wet

  macint
osh, with a plastic hood tied closely round her face,

  slipped quietly in, showing the uniformed janitor what appeared

  to be a press card. He nodded and she sat down in

  the seat nearest to the door, took a notebook from her bag

  and bent over it without looking up.

  The coroner had evidently been waiting for me to answer

  him. Now, with no least hint of impatience in his voice, he

  said, 'Well, Mr Desland, do you wish to give evidence?'

  I made no answer, for I was staring at the girl. I knew

  and did not know at whom I was looking; as a midnight

  sentry might know and not know that the challenged man

  standing before him was his general; or two grief-stricken,

  mourning wayfarers might recognize and fail to recognize

  a chance-met companion trudging a dusty road. That incredulous,

  heart-thumping part of me which knew was no

  longer attending to the coroner.

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  'Do you wish to give evidence, Mr Desland?'

  For the first time the girl, smiling and laying a finger on

  her lips, raised her head and looked straight at me. It was

  Kathe.

  I might have known she wouldn't fail me! Everything

  was easy now. I knew where I was and what I had to do a

  trifling task of explanation, which wouldn't take long. Of

  course all these puzzled, limited people, living on a lower

  plane, couldn't be expected to understand what had happened.

  They did not know Kathe and on that account were

  to be pitied. I should have to talk down to them - politely,

  of course. To them that are without, all these things are done

  in parables, that hearing they may hear and not understand.

  For there is nothing hid that shall not be manifested. But

  fancy their thinking they could catch my Kathe in their

  clumsy nets! Well, as soon as they had been satisfied she and

  I would go away together.

  'Yes, please, sir,' I answered and, with my eyes still on

  Kathe, took the oath.

  'I'm most grateful to you, sir, for this opportunity to tell

  the court what took place on the beach, and chiefly for my

  poor wife's sake. I don't want to stress my own grief, for

  fear I should be thought in some quarters - not by yourself,

  sir - to be exploiting it. But perhaps I might just say that

  great as it is, it would be much greater if I had to feel that

  I had had no opportunity of correcting any idea that we

  had a quarrel, or that anything whatever passed between us

  of an unpleasant or even of a sorrowful nature. There was

  nothing like that at all.'

  I could tell that already my air of assurance and almost

  aggressive confidence had caught the coroner's interest.

  Kathe, still smiling with amusement, gave me a little nod of

  approval, and I went on.

  Til try now to do as you have asked, sir, and give you an

  account in my own words of what happened.'

  'Thank you, Mr Desland.'

  'Well, sir, my wife and I had been married for just over six

  weeks. I should mention, since the point's been raised, that

  she had had a previous child before I met her. I'm sorry to

  376

  say that it died some time ago, before our marriage. I was

  anxious, of course, to help her to get over that. So we were

  very happy that for a little while past we had both felt

  reasonably sure that she was pregnant.

  'She was of an impulsive and I think it would be accurate

  to say, a rather passionate temperament - warmly emotional.

  Some people might even say capricious. She was given to

  sudden turns of fancy, often without apparent motive. And

  I - er - well, sir, it pleased me, really, to indulge her wishes,

  not only because I loved her, but because this characteristic

  of hers was closely related to a brilliant flair she had for

  the work we did together - that is, the finding, buying and

  selling of antique porcelain and china. That, as you know,

  is my occupation. She'd been with me in the business only

  a short time, but already she'd shown, and often when she

  seemed most - well, wayward, one might say - a quite

  remarkable ability, and had found and purchased on her own

  initiative several valuable and profitable items. What it

  comes to, sir, is that I was not in the habit of opposing her

  whims, because I'd learned to respect and trust her intuitive

  discernment.'

  Almost gaily, I looked across the court at Kathe with a

  glance that said, 'How'm I doing?' Her look answered, 'Very

  soon, now, we can be gone together.'

  'I think I understand, Mr Desland,' said the coroner, in a

  carefully sympathetic tone of voice.

  'I might mention, sir, that, as I told Dr Fraser in the