A VISIT AT CHRISTMAS

 A VISIT AT CHRISTMAS

BY BOB FRENCH 

The judge at Edmonton Crown Court cleared his throat, thanked the jury, for their service, then glanced up at the young man standing in the dock.

“You have been found guilty of grievous bodily harm against Miss Victoria Smith.”  The judge stared down at his papers then adjusted his glasses.”

“Charles Alexander Fenwick, you have been convicted of the offence of manslaughter, by the verdict of a jury.  The court has heard that on the 31^st of December 2023, You and the victim, Miss Victoria Ann Smith, caught the 11:10pm train from Bristol Temple Mead to Exeter. According to several witnesses, you were both drunk and arguing.  At around 11:30pm, you were seen swearing and fighting in the carriage corridor of the train with Miss Smith, and that during this fight, you opened the carriage door and pushed Miss Smith out onto the track whilst the train was moving.”

“I have considered the aggravating factors in this case, including the fact that you were both drunk and fighting in a public place, I have also considered the mitigating circumstances, and the evidence of Doctor Yellington regarding the medical state of Miss Smith.”

He turned to the Doctor. “Doctor, as of nine o’clock this morning was Miss Smith still in a comma?”

The Doctor stood. “That is correct Your Honour.”

“And is there any indication as to when she will recover?”

“I am afraid that only nature can tell us Sir.”

The judge turned his attention back to Alexander. “Your lack of remorse about the health of Miss Smith’s condition is plain to see.  I therefore sentence you to a term of twelve years imprisonment. You will serve half of this sentence in custody before being eligible for release on license." 

That night in the Duck and Pheasant, Alexander’s second home, everyone felt sorry for their star rugby player.  Some gave their penny worth about a fair trial, others thought Victoria should have been in the dock and some thought that Alexander should have been given a much longer sentence, whilst the majority of his friends thought that Victoria had it coming to her.

 Victoria Ann Smith had arrived in the small town hoping to get a job at the Bristol Royal Infirmary.  She had qualified as a nurse in Liverpool, but decided she wanted to live and work down south.  It didn’t take her long to find, then mix in with the ‘in crowd’ which centered around the local rugby team.

On a cold, wet and windy Saturday afternoon in November, some of Victoria’s friends decided to go and support the local rugby team on the understanding that the third half was always a great hoot, with good food and drink. Victoria had never been to watch a game of rugby and was surprised how rough it was. Half-way through the second half, three players collided with each other and spun across the muddy touch line, knocking three of Victoria’s friends over.  All six ended up in a deep muddy puddle. 

Without thinking, Victoria donned her nurse’s hat and jumped into the pile of groaning bodies, quickly administering medical advice to those who followed her.

Two of the players were classed as walking wounded, but one player, a tall six-foot blond-haired man had to be stretchered off the pitch.  Victoria stayed with him until he reached the dressing room.  The coach, an elderly man who by the state of his nose, was an ex-rugby player, thanked her and asked if she could stay and help administer first aid?

“Sure.  Let me examine him properly first.” 

The coach, whose name was Bert, dug out a rusty old tin with a white circle and red cross on it.  “This is all we have.”

Victoria grinned and thought ‘when had the health and safety rules changed the marking on first aid boxes to white with a green cross.’

“Alright Bert, help me get this muddy jersey off him, but be careful, it looks as if he has a dislocated shoulder. After a great deal of gentle pulling and pushing, Bert swore.

“Sorry love.  We are going to have to cut him out of it.”

“No! it’s my favorite shirt.” The player shouted.

“What’s you name?” Victoria looked him sternly in the face.

“Alexander.  Do you really have to destroy my jersey?”

“No, not really.  I can leave you in your stinking, muddy shirt and wait until infection sets in.  Then I doubt you will ever play rugby again.  Your choice?”

Alexander reluctantly gave in and lay back down on the physio bed.

“Now just relax.  I will count to three then you will feel a sharp pain as I put your shoulder back in its right place, OK?”

“One, Two,” then she pulled his shoulder back into its original place.

What followed was a string of foul language, including some words that Victoria had never heard before.

“Right, lets look at the rest of your injuries. Bert, can you sponge his legs down so I can get a good look please.”

“umm! This looks bad. I think you are going to need stitches.  Do you have the kit to do this Bert?”

“Yes. Not sure if it’s clean and sterile though.”

“Have you any antiseptic?”

“Yeh, got that in a bottle over there. I’ll get it.  Do you need some cotton wool?”

Victoria thanked him and continued to study his legs.

Once Bert had finished cleaning the mud from his legs, Victoria completed her inspection.  She noticed that Alexander had so many scars from playing rugby; it was little wonder that there was any space left for more scars.

After the game had finished, the bar, club hall and dressing room started to fill up.  Bert suggested that he’d bring Alexander out once he’d got him sorted.

From that moment on, for over a year, Victoria and Alexander became an item.  They were never seen apart. Then in the summer, he invited her to move into his flat and for a few months’ life was bliss. They even decided to pool their resources and open a joint account.

Alexander gradually became aware of her variable behaviour and was a little surprised.  She was not slow in coming forward so that she got her way. Alexander was what one may call a gentle giant, a bit of a push over and he thought it was just first or second date nerves.

At Christmas, he wanted to take her up to London, take in a show and then have a nice meal at one of the posh restaurants. But she had other ideas. She wanted to go dancing down at Chinnerys in Southend.

A few months later they were contemplating a spring holiday. Alexander suggested Cyprus, but Victoria vetoed that idea and they spend two weeks in Val d’lsere, costing a fortune. On the last day of their holiday Alexander decided to have it out with her.  What was suppose to be a discussion between two people who were in love, it quickly turned into a real fight. To defend himself, Alexander had to pin her down until she relaxed, leaving bruise marks on her wrists and upper arms.

Alexander knew many of Victoria’s friends and one evening met up with them in a local pub.

“Thanks for meeting up with me and please forgive me if I cross over any boundaries of friends trust.  Since we got married, Victoria’s behaviour has deteriorated to the extent that on our last holiday we ended up actually fighting each other, and it wasn’t nice. One friend suggested that she might be on some sort of drug, but the other friends shouted her down.

A week later Alexander suggested that they follow the rugby team down to Bath staying at a really nice hotel.  To his surprise she agreed and the train into London was without problem.  Then on the Great Western Railways train she found a bar on board and started to have a drink, then another until she was tipsy. Then they started fighting.  He chased her down the corridor.  Then they started to struggle and without reason, they crashed against the door which suddenly flung open.  He tried to grab her but the suction caused by the rushing air past the open door sucked her out. That evening the Bristol police arrested him in the hotel and took him back to London.

It was the late afternoon on the 24^th of December and Alexander was about to start his eight years in prison.  Alexander kept himself to himself, but the word got out that he had beaten his wife into a coma and she had died.  As he watched the rugby game one of the Prison Staff touched him on the shoulder and quietly said that he had a visitor.

“Who is it? No one ever visits me.  Are you sure?”

“Just get a move on. I want to watch the game as well.”

Alexander went to the visitor’s room, sat down in the cubical and waited.

Then the door opened and a woman entered the other side of the glass.

When she took off her scarf and glasses, Alexander stood up and stared at the woman.

“God! I thought you were dead.”

Victoria grinned. “No.  I just popped in to wish you a happy Christmas before we, that’s Manuell and I are off on a holiday in the sun.”

“But have you told my solicitor that you have come out of your coma and that I want to challenge my sentence. I still have money you know.”

Victoria gave a quiet laugh.  “Alexander sorry but you have no money any more.  Remember we had a joint account and I took great delight in spending it all.  As far as your solicitor knows, I died last year.  I have a new identity now and my boyfriend is taking me to Spain on his yacht, then onto the Caribbean.  Goodby Alexander have a happy Christmas.

Copyright Bob French  ~  Dec2024