Not necessarily in word terms, less than 500 so far, but I recieved some brilliant feedback on the piece I sent to my author friend, and having been reassurred that it is not insensitve and disrespectful, I’ve decided to share it here.

It concerns the trial, and an interruption.

Trial

Freddy is called to the witness box. He states that the two of them did not plot to ‘poison’ or harm Percy, they only discussed ‘a separation.’ When asked about the “something” he “must do” mentioned in Edith’s letter, he says it was to “Take her away”. The “electric light globe” mentioned in a different letter, Freddy explains as “mere melodrama” and Edith imagining a Bella Donna type scenario with herself as the protagonist.

“I think I got it from you but I will ask you: In these letters that have been read was there anything in any of those letters which incited you to do any act of violence to Mr Thompson?” “Nothing whatever.”

Freddy recounts how he and Edith spent some of the 3^rd of October together, when they parted at Aldersgate Station (now Barbican), Edith told Freddy about her and Percy’s trip to the theatre that evening. “I wish I was going with you” she tells him.

…

Such a wishful statement. I almost want to cry. “I wish I was going with you.” If only, Edith. If only. She is keeping to herself. It is now, as I write this, December 11th, the last day of the trial. I still do not even know if Freddy has come back from London. I seek Edith out, invite her to sit by the fire with me. I repeat the statement that has apparently affected me so. “You said that to Freddy, before you went to the Criterion.”

She nods. I am worried she is going to cry. I can’t believe I am daring to broach the subject, to mention the time when it happened. “Where is he, Freddy?” She doesn’t answer. “Did he stay in London?” she nods. Realising I can only ask ‘Yes’ or ‘No’ questions, I say, “Is he coming back?”

She nods again. I wish she would talk to me. I wish she felt able to. “Do you know when?” She shakes her head. I think it is a little mean of him to leave her by herself at this time, but I do not say so. For all I know they talked about it and agreed to be apart for a few days. I do not know this for certain, but I say it to Edith anyway, in case it might help her feel better: “I think he’s seen his mother, while he’s been in London. I just have a feeling. You didn’t want to stay?” A shake of the head. “I can see why. I probably wouldn’t if I were you.”

I want her to laugh, not because anything about this is funny, but because I hate seeing her so despondent. I like it best when she laughs. “Can I do something for you? Do you… do you want a book to read, I’ve got The Fruitful Vine? Or would you rather just sit here? I can leave you alone, sorry, I just wanted very much to speak to you after reading that.” Edith sits hugging her knees, her head resting atop them. She looks at me, but still doesn’t speak.

“Do you miss Freddy?” Another nod. “Hopefully he’ll be back soon. When he comes back, will you feel better?” She nods again. I worry I have just implied she is too dependent on Freddy. “But you feel okay usually, even if he’s not around? You’re just sad at the moment because of…” I can’t bring myself to say it. I daren’t. She understands though because she nods her head more vigorously this time, as though to reassure me. “I’m glad. I’m really glad about that. I wish there was something I could do. Just let me know.” I had thought to mention that it’s nearly her birthday, but given that she spent this birthday in Holloway, she might not feel up to celebrating. What is she going to be like in January? Oh God I don’t want to think about that. It doesn’t bear thinking about.

Desperate, I try to change the subject, “Can I ask you a question?” She nods. “What’s… what’s your favourite…” I don’t actually have a question. “Did… did you have a good time with Avis the other day, is she alright?” I know as I say it that this is not the most sensible question to ask, but it was all I could think of. She nods twice. “That’s great. That’s wonderful. That’s brilliant. Avis is brilliant, I’m very fond of her.” I worry I’ve said too much but she gives another nod.

“We can talk about anything you like,” I tell her, “or I can go away. Sorry the fire’s going out.”

Edith sighs. “I’m innocent,” she says, quiet and matter of fact.

“I know Edith. I know that. So do a lot of people. Nobody will ever think you guilty again, not if I can help it.” It sounds stupid and self-important but I want her to know that I have faith in her. “I fully intend to help clear your name. You’re innocent and it needs to happen.” The next thing I say doesn’t really make sense, but I need her to know: “You’re safe now. Nobody can hurt or accuse you again.”

She nods. Then, “Can we read, you choose a book.”

“Okay, if you like. I’ve got lots of books in my room. Anything particular you’d like, romance, adventure? I have a lot of war books but I know you don’t like those.” We go upstairs and I pick Lamb’s Tales From Shakespeare. I decide on one Edith definitely knows, ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’: “…and they began to talk over the adventures of the night, doubting if these things had really happened, or if they had both been dreaming the same bewildering dream.”

Reading seems to cheer her up a little. I wish we could talk but to read is probably a better idea. “And now, if any are offended with this story of fairies and their pranks, as judging it incredible and strange, they have only to think that they have been asleep and dreaming, and that all these adventures which they saw in their sleep: and I hope none of my readers will be so unreasonable as to be offended with a pretty harmless Midsummer Night’s Dream.”

It is now 11:13pm. Today she was sentenced to death. She was sentenced shortly before 6pm. Somewhere in the far distance, Edith screams. To think earlier we were reading Shakespeare and now, far away in another time and place, she is screaming for her life. It is a terrible sound. I don’t know where she is but that is probably best, knowing me I would say all the wrong things and make her feel worse. Will she fare any better tomorrow?

…

Back in the courtroom on December 8^th, Freddy explains that he decided to go to Ilford “all of a sudden”. “I knew Mr and Mrs Thompson would be together and I thought perhaps if I was to see them I might be able to make things a bit better.” He maintains that he acted in self-defence, Percy’s response to being accosted was “I’ll shoot you”. When asked to explain the “melodrama” of Edith’s letters he replies: “She had a vivid way of describing herself; she would read a book and imagine herself as the character in the book.”