Occasionally, a policeman appeared through a door in the opposite corner and shouted out a visitor’s name. Each time the door opened she looked up eagerly. It seemed like an age had passed before he came through and called, ‘Visitor for Goddard?’
She made her way across the room and followed the policeman down a dingy corridor lined with grubby grey doors. At the end he opened one and held it open to let her through.
Luke was sitting at a table in the middle of the room. He looked up as she entered. She noticed a bruise on his right cheek. He was smoking, blowing white rings towards the ceiling. As she crossed the bare room towards him, she realised that she was feeling nervous.
‘Loz,’ he said, standing up and breaking into a broad grin. ‘How fantastic to see you! They said there was a young lady to see me. I didn’t realise it was you. What are you doing here?’
She went to put her arms around him, but noticed the police officer standing at the end of the room, glowering. She drew back and sat down opposite Luke.
‘I had to come back to London,’ she said. ‘Dad’s had a fall. Why are you in here? Why haven’t you phoned me?’
‘Yeah. Sorry about that. I meant to, but it’s just that I’ve been on the picket line every day.’
‘And what about that boy in my flat? Rory.’
Luke leaned forward and stubbed out his cigarette. He looked her in the eyes.
‘The guy was homeless. I knew you wouldn’t mind. You said I could stay, Loz. One more person hardly made any difference.’
‘You could have asked me. The guy’s an addict. I saw the marks on his wrists.’
Luke leaned back and began to laugh.
‘He’s a diabetic, Laura. Give the poor guy a chance.’
She felt the blood rush to her cheeks. How naive she must look to him.
‘I’m sorry. I just assumed …’
‘Well, you assumed wrong. All those AIDS posters have got to you. Have terrified you stupid, just like they’re meant to.’
‘You haven’t told me what you’re doing in here,’ she said, changing the subject. Luke lit another cigarette.
‘They’ve charged me with GBH. I’m up before the magistrates in the morning.’
‘GBH?’
‘Yeah. I’m supposed to have thrown a brick through the window of a TNT lorry. The driver’s in the hospital, apparently.’
‘That’s a serious charge.’
He shrugged. ‘The paperboys will trump up anything to get at legitimate protesters. It’s OK for them to beat up innocent civilians though.’
‘Paperboys?’
‘Murdoch’s lackeys. The boys in blue. They’ve got instructions from the top. They don’t care if the charges are bogus, Laura. Any bad publicity for the workers is good for Maggie, good for Murdoch.’
‘Now, now, Goddard. Take it easy,’ the policeman in the corner piped up. Luke glanced at him and narrowed his eyes. He looked as though he was about to say something but obviously thought better of it, and looked back at Laura.
‘So what are you going to do?’ asked Laura. ‘Did you have legal advice?’
‘No. No point. It wouldn’t have made any difference. I know my rights.’
‘But if you didn’t do it?’
He gripped her hand, suddenly serious.
‘Of course, I didn’t do it, Laura. Peaceful protest – that’s what I’ve always stood for. You know that.’
She looked back into his eyes. She knew those eyes so well, hazel with dark flecks, and she knew all the little lines around them too. Looking at him she was reminded about why she loved him. There was an intensity in his look that made everything around her melt away. It was as if nothing in that moment except the two of them mattered.
‘It would have been different if you’d been here earlier,’ he said. ‘You could have helped me.’
She frowned. Where was this leading?
‘Now that you’re here, you could represent me tomorrow morning, couldn’t you?’
‘Me?’ she said, beginning to panic. ‘I don’t do criminal law.’
‘I’m sure you could do it. Wasn’t your old man a legal aid lawyer? A champion of the oppressed? It must run in the blood. Or perhaps he could come down and do it.’ He was smiling his mocking smile.
‘You don’t need to be unkind. He’s ill now, Luke. And he’s seventy-one years old. He doesn’t practice anymore.’
‘I was only kidding. But you could do it. You’re always saying how you missed your vocation, how you hate your work. You could do something really good for once, instead of just lining the pockets of the fat cats.’
‘I wouldn’t be the best person for you. You’d be better off with someone from the law centre. You know, where Dad used to work. He still keeps in touch with them, goes down there to help out sometimes. I could phone them for you.’
’No. I don’t want anyone from the law centre. I want you.’
‘But I haven’t stood up in court for years. And even then it was only for simple stuff. I really think …’
‘You can do it. If you love me like you say you do, you wouldn’t hesitate.’
‘Of course, I love you. You know that,’ she lowered her voice, acutely aware of the hostile presence of the policeman rocking to and fro against the wall.
‘Have faith in yourself, Loz.’
His eyes were on her face. She knew he was testing her.
‘OK, I’ll do it,’ she said finally, meeting his look of challenge. ‘I’ve got some textbooks at Dad’s. I’ll also speak to someone at work tomorrow morning and see if they can help me. What time’s the hearing?’
She saw triumph flash in his eyes.
‘I knew you’d do it, Loz. Two o’clock. Thames Magistrates.’
It was almost midnight by the time she returned to Highbury. One of Marge’s cats was howling in the side passage. She crept up the front steps and let herself
