Page 77 of Broken Country

I knew he was good. But, in cross-examination, he is brilliant. I fear he is unbeatable.

We are back in court, my parents, sister, and I, waiting for the closing speeches to begin. My mother, Eleanor, and I had sat through my father’s mauling in the witness box as he stood up to defend Frank’s character. I have never feltprouder of him, or more devastated. He tells me it was the least he could do, he says it was nothing. That’s not how it looked. It felt as if he’d had his heart ripped out of him by the time the prosecution was finished.

The judge makes an announcement. “The defense has asked permission to bring one final character witness to court and I have decided to grant it.”

“That’s odd,” Eleanor whispers. “Must have been really last minute or Robert would have said something yesterday.”

Eleanor and Robert talk on the phone every evening. He tells her how Frank is doing—“Very well, all things considered”—and what he makes of the day’s hearings.

“It’s feeling good,” he said last night. “That was a tough day for Frank, but it was always going to be. He handled it well.”

I am watching Frank in the dock when Judge Miskin says: “Are you ready to call your witness, Mr. Miles?”

And it is his face I see crumpling when Nina walks up to the witness stand. The last time I saw Nina was at Jimmy’s funeral, where we didn’t exchange a single word, not even a glance. Her parents let it be known Nina wanted nothing more to do with me—or Frank, by association. It was fair enough, what I expected, what I deserved, but how I have missed her. How much strength it has taken to respect that wish, not to call her and say sorry, sorry, sorry. All the sorrys in the world would never be enough, I know that.

I stare at her hungrily as she swears her oath and when I glance again at Frank, I see he, too, is rapt, immersing himself in the sight of her, this woman we both loved so much from the first day we met her.

“Mrs. Johnson,” Robert begins, and it stuns me. Her married name, the same as mine. The Johnson women we were meant to be. Oh, if only.

“You decided to come forward as a character witness for the defendant last night. Why was that?”

I watch Nina dart her eyes toward Frank in the dock, a second or two, no more. I doubt she really sees him. “I’ve been following the trial in the papers. And I felt strongly, in a way I could no longer ignore—” Nina has begun with confidence, her voice clear and strong. Now she pauses to collect herself. “I felt that Jimmy, my husband, would have wanted me to speak on behalf of his brother. In fact, I know he would. And I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Johnson. May I commend you on your bravery. It can’t have been an easy decision.”

Nina gives Robert a sharp little nod of acknowledgment.

“What was Jimmy like in the days leading up to the shooting? Did you have any idea he would unravel in the way that has been described in court?”

She sighs. “In some ways, no. We were deliriously happy. We’d had the most wonderful wedding. We were trying for a baby. Everything was ahead. But Jimmy was very vulnerable and I was worried about him. I’d smelt alcohol on his breath when there was no reason for him to have been drinking.”

“Was your husband unstable, Mrs. Johnson?”

I see how the question jars Nina, how she steels herself to answer. “Yes, he was. At times very.”

“What was his reaction to learning of his sister-in-law’s affair with Gabriel Wolfe?”

“He was brokenhearted. He didn’t want to believe it was true, at first. Neither of us did. Beth and Frank meant everything to us.”

I look down at the spots of tears dripping onto my knees and my father’s hand placed on top of them. There’s nothing new in this daily dose of shame. It’s a very particularpain, learning the different ways in which I managed to hurt each member of my family.

“Was he angry?” Robert asks.

“Yes. He was beside himself. Mostly with Gabriel. I suppose it was easiest to hit out at him. But he was angry with Frank, too, once he realized he wasn’t going to do anything about it. Jimmy couldn’t understand Frank being so accepting of it.”

“On the morning of the shooting, what was Jimmy’s state of mind then?”

“Very hungover. Probably still drunk. He’d drunk almost an entire bottle of whisky—I found it later on, hidden behind the fridge. We didn’t talk much, it was very early. But he was obsessing over Gabriel, how someone needed to teach him a lesson.”

“That was the last time you saw him?”

“Yes.” Her voice sounds small and bleak in the courtroom.

“I know this is painful, Mrs. Johnson. I won’t keep you much longer. Can you tell the court how you learned of your husband’s death?”

“Beth rang the pub.”

“She told you Jimmy was dead?”

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