'It's all a damned lie,' she shouted, 'I never had that little shit to tea and I never used the name Lockhart fucking Flawse in any of my books.'
'But it's there in Song of… ' Mr Shortstead began. 'Shut up,' said Miss Goldring. 'If it's there you must have put it there because it wasn't in the manuscript I sent you.'
'You're quite sure about that?' said Mr Widdershins, looking for some ray of hope in an otherwise hopeless case.
'I swear by Almighty God,' said Miss Goldring with a vehemence that was convincing, 'that I have never ever heard the name Flawse in my life, let alone used it in a book.'
'May we see a copy of the manuscript?' said Mr Widdershins, and Mr Shortstead sent for it. The name Flawse was there in bold pica type.
'What do you say to that?' said Mr Widdershins. Miss Goldring said a great deal and most of it true. Mr Shortstead said little and all of it true.
'Then we shall contest the authenticity of this document,' said Mr Widdershins. 'Are we all agreed on that?'
Miss Goldring was. Mr Shortstead wasn't. 'That is the manuscript we received,' he maintained,
'That was not, is not, nor ever will be the manuscript I dictated. It's a fucking forgery.'
'You're absolutely sure about that?' said Mr Widdershins.
'I swear by Almighty God…'
'Very well. We will contest the case on those grounds, that this document which came into the possession of Mr Shortstead was not the original manuscript you wrote.'
'Precisely,' said Miss Goldring, 'I swear by Almighty God…'
She was still swearing by Almighty God and by lesser deities when she entered the witness box the following day to be cross-examined by an ebullient Mr Fescue. Mr Gibling and Mr Gibling could hardly contain themselves. In fact Mr Gibling the Elder couldn't at all and had to leave the court hurriedly while she was still in the witness box.
'Now Miss Magster,' Mr Fescue began before being stopped by the judge.
'I understood the witness's name to be Miss Genevieve Goldring,' he said, 'now you address her as Miss Magster. Which is it?'
'Miss Genevieve Goldring is an alias,' said Mr Fescue, 'her real…' He was interrupted by a squawk from the witness box.
'Genevieve Goldring is my pen name, my nom de plume,' she said.
Mr Justice Plummery studied the feather in her hat with disgust. 'No doubt,-' he said, 'no doubt your profession requires an assortment of names. The court requires your real one.'
'Miss Magster,' said Miss Goldring, sullenly aware that this revelation would disillusion a large section of her public. 'But I am best known to my admirers as Miss Genevieve Goldring.'
'Again no doubt,' said the judge, 'but then from what I have gathered your admirers have peculiar tastes.'
Mr Fescue took his cue from the judge. 'I am prepared to call you Genevieve Goldring if you so prefer,' he said, 'it is not my intention to harm your professional reputation. Now is it or is it not true that in Song of the Heart you describe the character named Flawse as being addicted to what is known among prostitutes and their clients as bondage and flage?' 'I did not write Song of the Heart,' said Miss Goldring.
'But I thought you had already admitted writing it,' said the judge. 'Now I hear…'
What he heard was a tirade from the witness box on the iniquities of publishers and editors. When she had finished, Mr Fescue turned to Mr Justice Plummery. 'Would it not be as well to examine the original manuscript and compare it with others submitted by the defendant to her publishers, m'lud?' he asked.
'The defendants have no objections,' said Mr Widdershins, and the Court adjourned once again.
Later that afternoon two experts on graphology and typography testified that the manuscript of Song of the Heart had been written, typed and produced by precisely the same machine as King's Closet and Maid of the Moors, both books written by Miss Goldring. Mr Fescue continued his cross-examination of the defendant.
'Having established beyond all possible doubt that you wrote Song of the Heart,' he said, 'is it not also true that you were and are acquainted with the plaintiff, Mr Lockhart Flawse?'
Miss Goldring began a violent denial but Mr Fescue stopped her. 'Before you commit perjury,' he said. 'I would ask you to consider the evidence given under oath by Mr Flawse that you invited him into your house and plied him with creme de menthe?'
In the witness box Miss Goldring stared at him with starting eyes. 'How did you know that?' she asked.
Mr Fescue smiled and looked to the judge and jury. 'Because Mr Flawse told me under oath yesterday,' he said gaily.
But Miss Goldring shook her head. 'About the creme de menthe,' she said weakly.
'Because the plaintiff also told me, though in private,' said Mr Fescue. 'You do, I take it, drink creme de menthe?' Miss Goldring nodded miserably. 'Yes or no,' said Mr Fescue fiercely.
'Yes,' said Miss Goldring. Below her Mr Widdershins and Mr Shortstead both covered their eyes with their hands. Mr Fescue resumed his rout. 'Is it not also true that the carpet in your bedroom is blue flecked with gold, that your bed is heart shaped, that beside it stands a mauve pleated lampshade, that your cat's name is Pinky? Are these facts not all true?' There was no doubting their veracity. The look on Miss
Goldring's face spoke for her. But Mr Fescue had the coup de grace ready.
'And finally is it not a fact that you possess a chow named Bloggs for the sole purpose of preventing anyone you wish to keep out from entering your house without your permission and presence?' Again there was no need for an answer. Mr Fescue had his facts right: he had heard them from Lockhart who in turn had them from Jessica.
'So that,' continued Mr Fescue, 'without your permission Mr Flawse could not have been able to testify in a signed affidavit that when you invited him into the house you did so of your own free will and with the intention of seducing him and having failed of that purpose you set out deliberately and with malice aforethought to destroy his marriage, reputation and means of livelihood by portraying him in a novel as a thief, a pervert and a murderer. Is that not also true?'
'No,' shrieked Miss Goldring, 'no it isn't. I never invited him in. I never…' She hesitated catastrophically. She had invited a number of young men to share her bed
but…
'I have no more questions of this witness,' said Mr Fescue and sat down.
In his summing up Mr Justice Plummery maintained that ferocious impartiality for which he was famous. Miss Goldring's evidence and behaviour in and out of the witness box had left no doubt in his mind that she was a liar, a prostitute in both the literary and sexual meanings of the word, and that she had maliciously set out to do what Mr Fescue had maintained. The jury retired for two minutes and found the libel proved. It was left to the judge to estimate the damages both personal and financial to the plaintiff as being of the order, due consideration being given to the level of inflation which presently and for the foreseeable future stood and would continue to stand at eighteen per cent, of one million pounds sterling, and that furthermore he was sending papers of the case to the Director of Public Prosecutions with the hope that the defendant would be charged with perjury. Miss Genevieve Goldring fainted and was not helped to her feet by Mr Shortstead.
That afternoon there was jubilation in the offices of Mr Gibling and Mr Gibling,
'A million with costs. A million. The highest damages ever awarded in a libel case. And with costs. Dear God, let them appeal, please let them appeal,' said Mr Gibling the Elder.
But Miss Goldring was past appealing. Mr Shortstead's insurers had communicated with him immediately following the award and had made it clear that they intended to sue both him and Miss Goldring for every penny they were being asked to pay.