Ultimately Lilian’s cellmate, Kelly, discovered Lilian’s cache of pills, and in so doing probably saved her life. She confronted Lilian at once.
Lilian explained that she had nothing to live for.
‘It isn’t prison that I can’t cope with,’ she said. ‘That will end sooner or later. It’s knowing I will never be free. In or out of prison. Kurt will always be there, you see. He will never leave me alone.’
Kelly was a lifer. Lilian never knew what offence she had committed. It was an unwritten rule in prison that you didn’t ask. And, in any case, Lilian suspected she would rather not know. Although she felt she was in no position to judge. And, of course, Kelly insisted she was innocent. But it quickly became apparent that not only was Kelly a force to be reckoned with within the walls of Eastwood, which made life much easier for Lilian when it became known that she was her mate, but also that she had moved in ominous circles before her conviction. Kelly also frequently implied that she had retained connections on the outside with powerful figures in the world of organized crime. It was almost as if she were boasting. All the same, she continued to demonstrate unexpected kindness, and did her best to convince Lilian that she would have a future after her release. If the authorities were prepared to help the likes of James Bulger’s killers start up a new life with a new name, surely they could be persuaded to help her.
‘And if you do ever need any help sorting out that bastard husband of yours after you get out, then you just let me know,’ said Kelly.
Meanwhile Kelly encouraged Lilian to find ways of dealing with imprisonment. She helped her acquire a plum job in the library and encouraged her to visit the gym and get fit. Kelly was one of those who believed strongly that physical fitness also made you feel better and stronger mentally.
Lilian became inordinately fond of Kelly, an attractive twenty-something whose perky positivity remained as yet undimmed by her confinement. Lilian had heard of sexual and romantic relationships developing between women prisoners whatever their normal sexual preferences, but she feared those feelings were dead in her for ever whether with a man or a woman.
It was the prison governor who, to Lilian’s astonishment, provided what was probably the most potentially important assistance. She told Lilian that she had been looking into her case, and put her in touch with barrister Jean Carr, a leading silk in civil liberties and a committed fighter on behalf of women who had been victims of violence.
‘You can never second guess these things, but I do believe you may have grounds for appeal,’ the governor told Lilian. ‘And you could have no one better on your side than Jean.’
Jean did indeed prove to be dedicated, energetic and clever. Best of all she was willing to take on Lilian’s case.
Suddenly Lilian didn’t feel quite so alone. She had three strong women in her corner, all rather impressive in very different ways.
Jean successfully applied for leave to appeal. At the same time she began to quietly let it be known in the small world of the British legal system, that she had heard a rumour doing the rounds concerning an illicit relationship between the widowed Mrs Justice Hadley and the married barrister who led the prosecution against Lilian. It could of course be just a rumour, murmured Jean into the nervous ears of various legal bigwigs, some of who already suspected that it was actually far more than a rumour. Of course, Jean wouldn’t dream of suggesting improper behaviour which may have prejudiced a fair trial for her client, but...
Lilian did not learn of any of this until much later. At the time she had been quite unaware of the carefully orchestrated behind-the-scenes activity which preceded her appearance before the Court of Appeal at the Royal Courts of Justice on The Strand in London. And, in view of her succession of distressing experiences when dealing with the forces of law and order, the ruling ultimately delivered by this mighty court came as a big surprise.
The justices did not overturn the verdict reached by the jury at Bristol High Court, which would have been highly unusual, but they slashed Lilian’s prison sentence on the grounds of undue severity, and strongly criticized the way her trial had been conducted. There were mitigating factors, the justices decreed, not least the apparent misconception of events on the part of the high court judge. The appeal court ruled that the level of Lilian’s fear of her husband had not been taken into consideration, and also that there was no evidence of any premeditation, which should have been made clear to the jury and taken into account by the judge. The police investigation was also criticized.
Lilian’s sentence was reduced from five years to fifteen months. This meant that with remission she had only two months left to serve.
Jean Carr was pleased with the result although, as a woman who clearly liked to win, she admitted she had wished for even more.
‘If we really had justice in this country the verdict would have been overturned, unlikely though that always is,’ she grumbled. ‘I had hoped at least that the justices would reduce the sentence by enough so that you didn’t have to spend another day in jail.’
Lilian was non-committal. On the one hand she was pleased and relieved that her time in prison was now nearly over. However, on the other hand, she still had a criminal conviction against her name. And Lilian continued to believe that she was in any case facing a life sentence, whether she was in or out of jail, a sentence she felt no one could ever help her with.
She was therefore not at all surprised when a card arrived from Kurt congratulating her on her successful appeal. She had been expecting something of the kind.
‘I just can’t wait to see you again,’ he had written. ‘I am still waiting for you. I will always wait for you.’
Thirty-Five
Vogel had switched off his phone during the Greg Quinn interview and asked not to be disturbed for anything. After all, he had arrested the young man on suspicion of murder, and that had to take precedence over anything else, if only for an hour or two.
When he switched on again he saw that he had a missed call from Morag Docherty. He returned the call at once.
‘Hang on while I step outside, boss,’ said Docherty.
In view of Gill having without any reasonable doubt listened in to her last conversation with the SIO, Docherty was taking no chances this time. She stepped out on to the communal landing, pulling the door to the flat to behind her before speaking again.
‘She says she doesn’t know the person whose phone she used, and she claims she was away from Helen’s House for most of the afternoon, boss,’ the PC began.
She then related more or less exactly what Gill Quinn had told her. And she confessed that she had, probably crucially, been more or less trapped into revealing that Gill’s son had been arrested before asking her about the phone call.
‘That’s all right, Docherty,’ said Vogel. ‘Do I take it that Gill is now recovering rather well from her state of shock?’
‘Too right, boss. She’s become a bit of a can of worms actually. And I’m wondering just how genuine her behaviour has been all along. I mean, she’s not a stupid woman that’s for sure. And probably a heck of a lot sharper than we’ve given her credit for.’
‘And yet she has effectively destroyed her own alibi, or tried to. Do you agree, Docherty?’
‘Yes, boss.’
‘So, do you believe her account of her whereabouts on Saturday afternoon?’
‘Not a word of it, boss,’ said Docherty.
Whilst Docherty had been reporting to Vogel, Gill Quinn took the opportunity to phone Helen Harris.
‘Oh Gill, how are you?’ asked Helen at once, her voice full of concern. ‘I didn’t know how to get hold of you. I didn’t know where you were. Are you with Greg?’