Funny Business - Chapter 18, The Truth, the Whole Truth and Everything..

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Funny Business - Chapter 18, The Truth, the Whole Truth and Nothing but the Truth

by

Samantha Michelle Davies (SamanthaMD)

Well, here we go. This is the final part of my story. I hope that all the loose ends get wrapped up. This is quite a long piece so please bear with me and read through right to the end.


Jake was waiting for Liz and Charlie when they arrived at JFK. His limo took them to a ‘safe house’ that was used by the magazine when important people came to town.

Waiting for them at the house was the man who was going to put Liz through virtual hell for the next seven days. He was fairly tall and judging by his grey hair, probably in his early 1960’s.

“Liz, Charlie, I want you to meet Wendell Holmes. Mr Holmes is a notable Criminal Attorney based in LA. He is here to prepare you for the trial” said Jake as Wendell and Charlie shook hands.

When then introductions were over, Wendell said
“I just wanted to meet up before we get down to business tomorrow. The next few days won’t be enjoyable. Far from it. To be frank, unless I make your life a virtual hell then you will surely suffer when you get into the witness box. If you aren't prepared thoroughly then the defence attorney will be well worth the $800 per hour they are being paid.”

He swallowed and looked hard at Liz.

“If you really want to get this man convicted you and from my so far fairly cursory reading of the case, it is only your testimony Liz, that can do that with any certainty."

He looked at Liz once again to see if she was taking all this in.

"If you break down on the stand then he wins and everything you have done will be for nowt.”

Liz, who had been only vaguely listening to Mr Holmes, suddenly gave him her full attention upon hearing the word ‘nowt’.
He smiled when she saw her change in attitude.
“Behind this smooth LA façade is a Barnsley born Tyke. I went to the same school as Geoffrey Boycott and moved to LA when I fell in love with a PAN-AM Stewardess on a flight from LA to London some 30 years ago.”

She recognised the bits of his Yorkshire accent amongst his obvious west coast lilt.

She smiled back.
“As you might guess, coming from Barnsley, I’m a sort of no-nonsense kinda guy. My working class background is very much built upon a lot of straight-talking. Some clients can take it. With these I get along fine. Those that can’t handle the truth, well, they soon find alternative representation.”
Liz smiled and looked at Jake.
“Hey, don’t blame me. Charlie’s father suggested that we call Wendell in.”

Wendell smiled.
“Wendell is my American name. I was born John and was naturally called ‘Sherlock’ at school. I find Wendell goes down better with clients than John. It sounds a lot more Ivy League than Polytechnic of Central London.”
Liz looked at him long and hard.
She decided that although she might come to loathe him in the following week, he was one person she could grow to like in the long term.

After talking a bit with Liz on her own, Wendell bade everyone goodbye until the following day and left Charlie and Liz alone with Jake.

Liz sat down and sighed.
“He seems nice.”
Jake was about to say something but Charlie waved him to stop

“What Liz means is that she accepts that the next week or so will be hell and that he is only doing his job.”
Jake smiled.
“I’ll have to thank Dad for finding a Brit to do this job.”
Jake smiled.
“He’s doing this pro bono.”
Charlie was about to say something but that stopped him in his tracks.

“Eh?”
Jake grinned.
“Wendell is a $1200 an hour divorce lawyer to the celebs in LA. Every so often, he puts a little of that back. When he heard that a fellow Brit and a TS at that was likely to be crucified on the stand, he dropped everything and came east.”
Charlie shook his head in disbelief.
“Wendell is in a very private and long standing relationship with someone like Liz. I don’t think I need to say anything else.”

*

The following morning, Wendell arrived bright and early to begin work.
“I’m sorry if I was a bit abrupt yesterday. I will be very blunt with you today and every day until you take the stand. Please understand that it is nothing personal. I’m here to do a job. That job is to stop you from being literally crucified on the stand by the defence attorney. When this is over, I’d very much like us to be friends.”

He paused for a second.

“Well, if you can still stand the sight of me that is?”

Liz had thought about what this would be like. She now understood that is was going to be a lot harder than anything she’d possibly imagined.

The following days were very much a trial for Liz. Wendell asked every conceivable question he could think of about the case. Gradually, Liz was able to make sure that her side of the story was told. There was only one scenario that her training was unable to counter. Both of them dreaded that this would happen but together they did as much preparation for it as they could.

*

On the Sunday before Liz was due to give testimony, Wendell didn’t appear. In his place was his assistant, a beautiful raven-haired Spanish woman named Maria.

“Today, you rest. We go shopping to select what you are going to wear in Court. Then we go to a spa for a facial, a massage and finally, we get your hair done” she said in slightly broken English.

“Eh? What’s wrong with my hair?”
She laughed.
“Sená´ra, it does not present the right image. Sená´r Holmes, he say, you need a haircut and new colour.”

Liz looked at her hair in the mirror. It hadn’t been near a hairdresser in almost a year. The colour was a very vibrant red. She realised that it was hardly the image that a serious journalist should present in court.
She shrugged her shoulders and only slightly reluctantly, agreed to go with Maria.

In the end, she thoroughly enjoyed the day. It was a complete change from the previous day-in, day-out grilling. Maria’s lack of fluency in English was hardly a problem until they got to the hairdresser.

Maria insisted that Liz cut her hair and dye it something more sensible. Liz flatly refused.

“There is no way in hell that I’m having this cut off. All my life I have wanted long hair. Now I have the chance to experience it, I’m not cutting it. Not one inch. Ok?” said Liz firmly.
Maria and the hairdresser got the message.

Then the hairdresser made a suggestion.
“Then the only thing you can do is to wear a wig?”
“But they look awful” complained Liz.

He laughed.
“Not a real hair one darling?”
Without waiting for a reply he left the two women alone.
He soon returned with a cardboard box.
Inside was a black real hair wig.
“This should do nicely,” he proclaimed.
Liz was not sure but went along with him.

He expertly pinned her hair up and covered it with a Wig Cap. Then he fitted the wig in place and set to with the styling brush.
After more than 5 minutes, he proclaimed himself satisfied.

“There you go. You look pretty good if I don’t mind saying so myself.”

Liz stood up and looked at herself in the mirror. She had to admit that the style did suit her.
“Ok, you win. This will do.” She said begrudgingly.
He smiled and said,
“We are not done yet. Your make-up needs to be perfect.”
Maria stepped in and gave Liz a proper make over after carefully removing the wig and placing it on a wig stand.

An hour later, her hands had been moisturised and her nails carefully done. Her facial makeup was completed by a pair of false eye-lashes. They really filled out her eyes and made her look much more as Maria put it, Sexxxy.”

They all laughed but once the wig was replaced, Liz had to admit that she looked better than she had probably ever done. Inwardly, she sighed to herself. This look was really high maintenance. She had neither the time of the inclination to do this on even an irregular basis but for the next few days, this was it. She thanked the team at the hairdressers and even more so, she was thankful to Maria. This was just for being there.

In the taxi on the way back to where Liz was staying, Maria said,

“Do not worry Elizabet. I will come tomorrow and every day until you appear in Court to fix your hair and make-up. Sená´r Wendell tells me so.”

Liz breathed a sigh of relief.

When they arrived at the apartment, both Jake and Charlie gasped when they saw the new ‘all dolled up and ready for court’ Liz for the first time.
She paraded for them in best ‘fashionista’ style saying,
“This is a once only show guys so take a good look now. When we leave here this look stays here ok?”

This made everyone relax and push the events of the following days to the back of their minds.

*

The trial opened and the prosecution made its case. The reporting of the case was virtually unanimous in its condemnation of the ADA and the arguments they put forward. The general opinion of the summarisers on Court TV was that the defence were already halfway to an acquittal. This setback so early in the proceedings saddened both Liz and Charlie. It seemed that even though they had virtually given them the case on a plate and now they were going to screw it up.

The prosecution continued by calling only one of the people the Liz & Charlie had unearthed in their wandering around Europe. They both agreed that this person was just about the weakest of them all. They later found out that they were the only one of the potential witnesses who was prepared to travel to the US at their own expense.

This made Charlie very angry. He was so angry that he and Wendell Holmes spent a good two hours bending the ear of the DA in person. Not that it did much good.

The remainder of the prosecution witnesses were just as ineffective.

On the afternoon of the third day, the defence got its chance to start putting their points of view. They started off with a few character witnesses. At this point, even Court TV tuned out. They did however keep a watching brief on the case waiting for the defence to really get going.

This happened midway through the morning of the fifth day. Liz was going to be called as their last and in their eyes prime witness. Court TV cleared their schedules and the press came in force hoping for lots of juicy scandal.

True to her promise, Maria arrived bright and early to help get Liz ready for her appearance in Court. Together, they spent more than two hours cosseted in Liz’s bedroom.

When she appeared, Liz was far more confident in her pose and attitude than she had been when they came east. She was by now very used to wearing the wig all day. So much so that by now she hardly noticed that she was wearing it. She had however dispensed with the false eye-lashes in favour of some semi-permanent ones that were attached by a salon only a few blocks from the apartment where they were staying. Maria agreed that they looked far more natural and required a lot less effort.

That fateful morning, Liz, Charlie and Jake travelled to the court by taxi.

As they stepped out of the taxi in front of the Court House that has featured in so many TV Series, a phalanx of press surged down the steps of the courthouse towards them. All of them started shouting questions at the trio. Charlie and Jake each grabbed hold of one arm and literally dragged Liz up the steps and into the relative safety of the courthouse.
It didn’t take long for Liz to be called into the courtroom. Less than 15 minutes after the days proceedings began, Liz was called by a Bailiff and with some determination, she entered the court room.

“Please give your full name”. Asked the court bailiff when she’d taken her place in the Witness Box.
“She’n’she Elizabeth Hardcastle.”
“Objection” came the cry from the defence table.

Everyone looked at the lead defence attorney, Ms Janice Warren. She was a highly regarded and thus very expensive attorney from Miami. Her reputation was ‘No holds barred Warren’. Liz had seen recordings of her in action. Everyone agreed that she was a formidable lawyer. She and Mr Holmes had crossed swords many times over the years. She was also his first wife who after getting literally stuffed in the divorce due to her infidelity took a particular delight in getting back at him at any possible opportunity.

“Yes Ms Warren?” asked the Judge, the honourable William Liebowicz.
“Your honour, this is obviously a plan to hoodwink the court. This name is obviously false. She’n’she? Where does that come from? Then there is the name Hardcastle. This witness has the by-line, Elizabeth Fuller.”

The judge though for a few seconds.
“Ms Hardcastle, would you care to explain?”

Liz smiled. This was something that she had gone over the previous week.
“Certainly your honour.”

She opened her handbag and pulled out her British Passport. It was brand spanking new courtesy of a trip to the British Consulate on 3rd Avenue two days earlier.

She handed it to the Judge.

He looked at and smiled.
“Objection overruled” said the Judge after examining it carefully.
“Your Honour?” cried the Defence.

The judge looked over the top of his half-moon glasses.
“Ms Warren? I have ruled. The witness has produced a passport with the name she has given to the court. I can see that it is a British Passport. If you have an issue with it them, then I suggest that you take it up with the Immigration people as well as the British Consulate here in New York.”
There was silence.

He handed it back to Liz.
“Please continue.”

“I She’n’she Elizabeth Hardcastle do declare that I shall give the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.”
“Objection,” cried the defence.
“Overruled,” said the Judge.

“I am going to allow Ms Hardcastle can use the English Common Law oath. After all, the New York legal system is based upon the English System. It is strange but not out of order to use the English oath. As long as the witness tells the truth what do you have to object to?”

Again, the defence attorney couldn’t object to the ruling.

“Ms Hardcastle, or should I say Wayne. You were born a Male weren’t you?”

“Yes but..”
“Yet here you are wearing a dress and make-up. Are you trying to lie to the court?”

“No but…”

“Mr Fuller, why did you concoct the lies you published? Was it for financial gain?”
“No but…”

“Mr Fuller, why are you trying to give the impression that you are a woman? You were born a male. You will always be a male until the day you die. Isn’t this the real truth?”

“Objection” came the cry from the ADA at last.

“You honour, the New York Supreme Court has accepted that transgendered people can appear and give testimony in the gender they have adopted. Baines vs Newcombe, 1984 established precedent. Also, the court has accepted that this witness’s surname is Hardcastle. The defence attorney seems to want to insist in calling her Fuller.”

“I agree with the ADA. Ms Warren. From now on, you will address this witness as Ms, Miss or Mrs Hardcastle In the female gender. Do I make myself clear on the subject?”
Ms Warren grudgingly nodded her acceptance.

Ms Warren changed her attack.
“Ms Hardcastle, are you in this fine country illegally? Is it not true that you were working here by courtesy of a US Green Card? I also understand that you have left the employment of the magazine. This means that you should have left the country some time ago. So, I repeat, are you an illegal alien?”

“No. I’m not”

“Why do you say that? The terms of your green card, which I am sure you understand very well stipulate that you have to remain in the employment for which it was granted. I have evidence here that says you quit your job when the edition of the magazine that made all these false and libellous allegations against my client was published. So, I repeat, are you an illegal alien?”

“No I’m not” said Liz firmly.

“Your honour, I would like you to order the arrest of this witness when their testimony is over and for this person to be handed over to the Immigration service for immediate deportation.”
The judge looked at Liz.
“What have you to say for yourself young lady?”

Liz forced herself to give a little smile.

“If Ms Warren would allow me to answer at least one question properly and truthfully then I will be able to settle this once and for all.”
“Please go ahead. I am sure that everyone wants to know the truth,” said the Judge.

Liz opened her handbag and produced two documents. She handed them to the Judge without saying anything.

He looked at them in detail for over a minute before giving his judgement.

“I find that this witness is not an illegal alien due to the fact that she is legally married according to Massachusetts law. The person she is married to is a US citizen. No doubt there is a change of status with the INS pending as a result of the marriage. The second document is a legal document that covers her change of name from Fuller to Hardcastle.”

“Objection. How can these so called documents be regarded as genuine?”

The judge smiled.
“Because Ms Warren, they are signed by an eminent Judge whom I know very well. The proper place to challenge their legality is in the Commonwealth of Massachusetts and certainly not in the state of New York. If you’d like to challenge them in his court then you are most welcome to do so but I happen to know that same sex marriages are perfectly legal in the Commonwealth and the State of New York does recognize the laws of other states just as they do the same with ours.”
There was once more silence after a ruling.

“Ms Hardcastle, why did you make up these lies about my client?”
“I didn’t”
“I put it to the court that you did. You are by your own admission, a failed designer. Was this not one last chance for you to make it as a designer.”

“No it is not.” Replied Liz defiantly.

The ‘Spanish Inquisition’ of Liz by the defence attorney went on for nearly an hour. This was the scenario that all the training she’d received in the previous week had not been able to cover adequately.

Eventually, Liz had had enough. She saw from her body language that Ms Warren was clearly getting extremely frustrated by her inability to break Liz.

She tried one last throw of the dice.

“Ms Hardcastle, you stated in your article that the defendant has copied your designs. Is it not true that in fact, you are a failed designer who has resorted to gutter journalism to make even a semblance of a living. I put it to you that this story is totally fabricated. Is this true?”

This was the opening she’d been waiting for.

Liz turned to the Judge and asked.

“Your Honour, I came into this court and swore to tell the truth. So far all I’ve been allowed to say is just a few one-word answers. If that is the truth then, I’m a monkey’s uncle. I am sure that when eventually the defence has exhausted their arsenal of tricks and innuendo, I will be allowed to tell the truth. If then, the jury decides to ignore it then so be it. But they deserve to hear the truth.”

This caught virtually everyone in the court by surprise.

The judge thought carefully for a nearly a minute.

“I agree. It is clear from the questioning so far that this witness is regarded as hostile by the defence. They have had more than an hour to make their point. My decision is that the witness does deserve their chance to tell the truth rather than just the version that the defence wants us to hear. I’m minded to let the witness speak and then give the defence if opportunity to ask questions. Ms Warren you have had an hour to make your case but so far your questioning has not introduced any new evidence for the jury to consider.”

Then the judge addressed Liz.
“Ms Hardcastle, a number of serious allegations against you have been made by Ms Warren. Are you prepared to not only refute them and also offer solid evidence that directly relates to the charges against the defendant?”

“Yes Sir I am prepared. That is your honour and with your gracious permission you will let me demonstrate the fact that the defendant has stolen my designs and not the other way around.”
“How do you propose this?” asked the Judge.
“Your Honour, I will show you and the jury an item of clothing from my collection in London that was copied by the defendant and used in his Autumn Collection. I will prove that design was copied directly to the court. Do I have your permission to do this?”
The judge remained impassive.

“Yes. Please go ahead.”

“If I may beg the courts indulgence and ask you to grant a 15 minute recess while I prepare the exhibits that will demonstrate the allegations of Copyright Theft and Fraud that have been made against the defendant. By doing so, it will also prove that the allegations of Copyright Theft and Trademark violations that the defendant has made against me are totally without validity” replied Liz quoting some words that had been taught to her by Mr Holmes.

“Objection. Relevance” cried the three defence lawyers in unison.
“What allegations have been made against you?” asked the Judge.

“If I may show you the writ?”
He nodded.
Liz opened her handbag and pulled out copies of the writs that were served on her in Nevada.
The judge read the outline of the cases as stated on the legal documents.
“Ms Warren? Do you know anything about these?” he asked holding the documents.
She approached the bench and looked that them.

“No your Honour,” she said returning them to the Judge.
“Then why is your signature on the bottom of this document?”

“I don’t know Sir,” replied Ms Warren very much on the defensive.
“Then I suggest you find out during the recess and when we reconvene you will then tell the court how your signature came to be on these document you claim to know nothing about. Objection overruled”
The Judge was warming to Liz.

“You might like to do that now. Recess for 25 minutes to allow the defence to get their story straight”
Ms Warren moved to say something but at the last minute, thought the better of it.
He banged his gavel.

“This court is in recess.”

All the reporters dashed from the room to make their reports. Liz looked towards the back of the courtroom. Mr Holmes and Maria were sitting there smiling back at her. He gave her a big ‘thumbs up’. Liz breathed a big sigh of relief.

*

Liz didn’t leave the courtroom along with everybody else. She stayed while two tailors dummies were brought in along with a large case and two ‘flip chart’ easels.
She just had time to grab a quick drink of water and a very brief word with Charlie before the case began again.

The judge began proceedings.
“Ms Warren. Have you gotten to the bottom of the mystery of your signature yet?”
She shuffled some papers nervously.

“Yes I think so your honour. My client asked a junior associate to draw up the documents for service after the trial. By mistake, they were put on my ‘for signature pile’ and once they were signed the process of serving them was left to a contracted out company. As Ms Hardcastle was being served with the subpoena to appear here today, the same process server took them along.”

The judge smiled.

“Then you are admitting that you don’t read every brief and document that comes across your desk?”
“Yes Your Honour” cam the very reluctant reply.

“Very well then. I fine you $1000 for contempt.”
“Your honour” she protested.
“And I will fine you another $1000 if you interrupt this witness again. Do I make myself clear?”
He paused.
“This is my court and I set the rules. My ruling is that Ms Hardcastle will tell the court her story. Then you will have the chance to question her on the evidence she presents. May I remind you to limit your questioning to the actual evidence presented to the court not supposition, hearsay or innuendo. When you are done, it is the prosecutions turn. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes Your Honour” she said sheepishly.

He turned his attention to Liz

.
“Ms Hardcastle, you may begin.”
“Thank you your honour.”

Liz stepped down from the stand hoping that she wouldn’t fluff her lines. Thoughts of a horrendous production of Romeo and Juliet from her school days flashed before her. She’d totally forgotten her lines. This time, she hoped that the hours of coaching would suffice to get her through.

She addressed the Jury.

“You see before you two tailors dummies. I will dress them with two garments. One item has been under seal since they were shown at the Student Fashion Show in London a little over a year ago. The other piece was amongst those seized by the police from the defendant’s place of business in Manhattan at the time of his arrest.”

Liz opened the metal box that was sitting on the floor and extracted a plastic bag clearly labelled “NYPD Evidence”.

This evidence bag contains one of dresses that the defendant showed at his fashion show last October here in New York.”

She took the bag over to the Defence table and presented it to Ms Warren.
“Ms Warren, will you verify that the evidence seal is still intact.”
She looked at the bag and nodded.

“I’ll take that nod as a yes then.”
Liz opened the bag and removed the dress.
“I am going to put in on the dummy but inside out. I am doing it this way so that you can see the construction and importantly, the stitching.”

Deftly, she put the garment on the dummy.

“Now I am going to open the other item. This was sealed in London by a lawyer and signed over the seal. That lawyer is in the court today. If the defence wishes to contest it, he is prepared to take the stand and verify under oath that it is his seal that is on the case containing the dress and importantly, the notarised sketches of the dress that I made some five or six years ago.”
She took a deep breath.

“Do you want the lawyer to take the stand?” she asked the defence team.
They hurriedly conferred about the matter.

“No. We will take the items as sealed.”
“Stop!” cried the defendant.
Everyone looked at him.

“I won’t let this charade. That thing is nothing but a fake. It’s like all those documents. I’ll bet they were copied from the dress.”
The judge banged his gavel.

“Mr Francosi. I take it you are objecting to these items being used in evidence?” asked the Judge.

“You bet I am. Get the fake shyster lawyer on the stand.”

There was a lot of talking in the courtroom.

There was more gavel banging.

“Ms Hardcastle?”
Liz smiled and waved at a man sitting at the back of the courtroom.

He came forward.

Liz went and sat at a spare chair near the Prosecution’s desk. As she did so she gave the ADA a really dirty look. They were doing very little to help her.

The man took the stand.

“Your full name please?” Asked the Bailiff.
“Lord Michael Foggarty Alexander QC”

The judge suddenly sat upright.
“Foggy? Is that you?”
The witness smiled.
“Yes Bart it is me.”

The Judge banged his gavel to quieten the courtroom.

“For the record, I spent a year at Harvard Law School with this man nearly forty years ago. He is a Member of the British Privy Council. That means he gives legal advice to Queen Elizabeth the Second and is a former Lord Chancellor in the British Parliament. For those of you who don’t know, that is the highest legal position in the United Kingdom. It is regarded as the highest and most respected lawyer in that country.”
He looked at Ms Warren.

“Does your client want to proceed with the swearing of this witness?”

“Damm right I do,” cried the defendant.

With a smile on his face, Lord Alexander entered the witness box and took the oath.
“I solemnly swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth,” said Lord Alexander while holding the bible.
“Please tell the court how you came to seal the case holding the items we are about to see” asked the Judge.

“I was asked by a colleague of mine in the House of Lords, Baron William Hardcastle who is also Ms Hardcastles’ brother. He asked me firstly to witness and then to sign and date some drawings and then to seal the package they were put in again under my supervision. Whereupon, I took them to my office in the House of Lords where they remained until five days ago when they were sent to New York in the British Diplomatic pouch. They remained in the British consulate until this morning whereupon I collected them personally from the Consulate and brought them to the court.”
“Where did this witnessing and sealing take place?”

“It took place in the River Room at the House of Lords in London. Those present were Ms Hardcastle, the Under Sheriff of the Palace of Westminster and Lord Hardcastle. I signed each drawing and also put my seal on them. Then I placed the dress into a clear plastic bag and again sealed it. Over the seal, I signed it. Then everything was put into a hard plastic case. The case was again closed and sealed. I have signed and witnessed affidavits from all those present at that time which I’d like to enter into evidence. ”
“When did all this take place?”
“2nd April last year. Inside the case is a copy of the London Times for that day as well.”

The judge turned to Ms Warren.

“Do you or your client have any more questions for this witness?”

There was silence from the defence.

“Will you please step down and verify that the seals you have told us about are still secure.”

He did just that.

“Your Honour, the seals are still intact.”

“Very well, open the case and remove the contents.”

With Liz’s assistance, the case was opened and the drawings taken out.

“Each one is here with my seal and date stamp on it.”

He took the plastic bag out and examined it.

“This again is as I left it.”
Liz took the bag.

The judge banged his gavel.
“These items are accepted into evidence. Unless the defence has any more objections?”
Ms Warren looked at her legal pad rather than at the judge. The defendant said nothing.

“Very well. You are dismissed. Thank you for coming to New York to perform this invaluable service.”

Lord Alexander smiled at the Judge who covered the microphone with his hand and whispered “See you in my chambers later. We have a lot of catching up to do.”

There were smiles all round between the two old friends.

Liz began again by removing the dress from the plastic bag.

She placed it onto the second dummy.

“As you can see, they look very similar. In fact they are identical right down to the mistakes I made when I made it originally some years ago.”

Liz pointed to one panel.

“When I first made this dress, I messed up the cutting. This meant that I was a bit short of material. This dress is actually made from an off-cut I bought in Borough Market for Five pounds, or some Eight dollars American. There was just about enough to make the dress I had designed. However when cutting out the pattern, I made a mistake and ended up with not enough material for this panel. I had to cut this piece to fit in a different way. If you look closely, you can see the lap of the material on this piece is different from all the rest. Doing it this way, there was just enough room for a single seam to join it with the rest of the dress. On the defendant’s copy, this has the lap of the material identical in pattern to mine and this very same piece is joined by a single row of stitching whereas the remainder of both is far inferior to that of mine. It will very quickly go out of shape. It will also split along this weakened seam.”

“Objection” cried the defendant.

“How can she know the quality of the material from a cursory glance?”

“Ms Hardcastle?” asked the Judge.

“I was about to come to that”

Liz looked at the jury. Two of the older women were nodding their heads. So far so good she thought.

“The material design and weave I made my dress from is one that was produced for a limited edition of dresses made by Alexander McQueen over 10 years ago. Mr McQueen has over the years earned a worldwide reputation for the quality of his tailoring in all his garments. I only learned of this last year at the fashion show where the updated version of my dress was shown. One of the college lecturers is writing a biography of Mr McQueen and he recognised the design of the cloth in an instant. It is the updated version of the dress that you see here. The changes from the original were really cosmetic. The most obvious one is a narrower collar that is cut farther back and a slight deepening of the breast darts”.

Liz carried on with the deconstruction using her sketches as well for some fifteen minutes.

Finally, she wrapped things up.

“The garment you see here is more like something you would by at Wal-Mart rather than a so called Haut-Couture establishment”

“Objection, speculation” cried Ms Warren suddenly awake.

Liz smiled.

“Your honour, it is a matter of public record that the defendant is subject to a class action from former customers of his for bad materials and workmanship”
She paused.

“I also understand that many other top fashion designers have come out in support of the plaintiffs in these cases. I hardly think they would lend their support and more importantly reputation to something that is pure speculation”

The judge made his decision.
“Objection Sustained.”
He turned to the Jury.

“You must disregard that last statement by the witness.”

Liz didn’t mind, she had made her point. She was done anyway.

“Your Honour, I have finished my evidence.”

Liz sat back in the witness box.

The judge saw an opening.

“This court is recessed for 10 minutes. When we resume the defence will continue questioning Ms Hardcastle.”

He banged his gavel.

10 minutes, later the court resumed.

There was a few seconds of silence in the court before the Judge said.

“Ms Warren. Do you or your client have any questions for Ms Hardcastle?”

She went into further consultations with her client.

“Ms Warren?” asked the judge some 30 seconds later.

A few seconds later she rose to her feet and approached the witness box where Liz sat sipping from a glass of water..

“Ms Hardcastle. You claim to have designed the original dress some five or six years ago. Why didn’t you pursue a career in fashion design?”

This was one of the questions that Liz and everyone on her side had dreaded. It was also the one that the supermarket tabloids had gotten completely wrong.

Liz took her time and took another sip of water.

“Ms Hardcastle?” asked Ms Warren.

“You are correct. I was a fashion student. I make no secret of that. I also have to admit that I was not the best designer by any means. I barely scraped through the end of year exams. As to my future lying in the fashion industry? Well, even then I knew I’d never really make it in the big time.”
She took a deep breath.
“All the time I was a student I had been living full time as a woman. Actually, I had been full time since my Sixteenth birthday. Everyone at College knew me as a woman. They knew absolutely nothing about my history. I was happy that everyone treated me normally.”
She took a sip of water.
“One day in the spring of my final year and not long before our end of course fashion show, I was walking home from College after working late one evening when I was attacked by four men. They were intent of having sex with me. When they found out that I was still anatomically a male, they decided to cut my…”

“Yes Ms Hardcastle. I think we get the gist of what happened” said the Judge coming to her rescue.

Liz carried on.

“When I had recovered, it was too far late to complete the year. To be honest, my mind was not on it anymore. I spent the summer recovering and thinking hard about my future. In the end, I returned to the college the following year but I switched to a journalism course I thought that if I was not going to make it as a designer perhaps I could report on it. After graduating, I got a job on the magazine and came to New York some 5 years ago.”

She swallowed hard.
“During my investigation into the defendant, it became very apparent to us that we would have to catch him or his agents in the act of stealing someone’s designs. In order to facilitate this, we used my designs and clothes from my final year that for some reason that I never threw away. The items were made more up to date. This work was performed by a final year student and myself. They were shown in the fashion show as his work. This was all done with the full agreement of the college authorities. The person who stole my designs is sitting there alongside his boss, Mr Francosi, none other than the other defendant, Mr Luigi Camara.”

Liz took another deep breath.

“Our plan to invite the designs to be stolen by the defendant might very well not have worked but luckily for me it did. It if hadn’t we might not be here today”

There was some tittering from the Public Gallery. The Judge quickly restored order with a few bangs of his gavel.

Ms Warren continued her questioning.

“You stated that my client has copied your design. I contend that you are lying”

There was a lot of murmuring. This caused the judge to intervene.

“Ms Warren. You have accepted Ms Hardcastle’s designs into evidence. Are you saying that these are indeed fakes?”

“Yes I am and I can prove it”

Liz was shaking her head in disbelief.

“Ms Hardcastle, you have testified that the items we see before here were in London on 2nd April last year. Do you not find it strange that my client’s premises had a break-in just three days before that. We can supply the police report to the court if needed. I contend Ms Hardcastle that you or your agents broke into my clients offices and stole those designs and then flew to London carrying the stolen goods. Then you made out that the designs were your own. What do you say to that?”

There was silence in the court for a full five seconds.
Liz smiled at the judge and the court. This was a scenario that her training had covered in great detail.
“To be perfectly honest Ms Warren, I have never heard such a load of unadulterated codswallop in my life”

There was a lot of noise from the court.

The judge even managed a small smile before he restored order with his gavel.

“If you insist with this line of questioning, I can supply witnesses who saw my original design all those years ago. I can supply a witness who worked with me to update my designs to what your client stole. Some of these people are recognised designers in their own right. One works for Chanel in Paris. How many people do you want me to present before this court for me to prove my point? Do you want to hear real evidence not some cock and bull story made up by your client?”

Liz was getting a bit angry now.
She paused to calm down.

After a few seconds she continued.
“Oh, I nearly forgot. There is a video and a few dozen still photographs I have of your clients right hand man, namely Mr Camara photographing my designs in London. These were taken less than a week before the fashion show. What do you say to that? I’m sure the court would be very interested to see it.”
Ms Warren started to reply but Liz was in full flight.

“Your client stole my designs and tried to pass them off as his own. That is theft and fraud. Your client is a fraud and a thief. He stole designs from all over Europe and for a time, managed to successfully pass them as his own. This is wrong and one of the reasons why we are here today with him tried on Federal Felony and Money laundering charges. May I also remind you that there are extradition warrants waiting to be heard from France, Switzerland, Italy and of course Great Britain. These are all in relation to the actions of the defendant and his employees.”

“Objection” said Ms Warren.

“Ms Hardcastle. Please confine you to answering the questions being put to you” said the Judge.

“Objection sustained.”

He addressed the Jury.

“You are to totally disregard that last statement by the witness.”

“Objection” cried Ms Warren.

“What do you object to? I have just ruled in your favour”, asked the judge.

“This testimony has been one lie from beginning to end and should be stricken from the records and this witness be held in contempt for lying on the witness stand.”

The judge smiled and banged his gavel.

“Ms Warren. It seems to me that you have been outsmarted. You called this witness and plainly it has backfired on you and your client. I might have been a bit more favourable if Ms Hardcastle had been a prosecution witness. You called her and obviously hoped to gain some advantage. Ms Hardcastle has clearly outsmarted you. Her testimony stands. Objection overruled.”

He turned to the DA.

“Any questions for this witness from the Prosecution?”
“No your honour.”

The judge seemed to agree.

“Ms Hardcastle, you may step down. Thank you for presenting your case so forcibly and professionally.”

With a big sigh of relief, Liz stepped down from the stand. As she did so, several people in the court broke out in applause. The judge let it go until she left the courtroom.

Outside the courtroom, Charlie and Jake were waiting for her. Liz and Charlie hugged each other.

“Well done my darling. You really put it to them” said Charlie.

Jake waited patiently for the pair to finish their embrace.

Mr Holmes and Maria came up to them.

Liz saw that they were holding hands. Her mouth dropped open.

“You did very well my dear” said Wendell.

He added.

“It seems that all my training was worth it. For that I am very happy. Now we must fly. Literally. We have a flight to LAX to catch. Don’t forget to come an see us if you are ever in LA.”

They left the other three standing on the corridor outside the courtroom watching in amazement.

It was Jake who broke the silence.

“There are quite a few TV crews outside. Do you fancy giving them a statement? If not, we can try to leave by the side exit?”

Liz thought for a second.

“Nope. Let's go out the front door give them a statement. I’ve nothing left to hide have i” she replied smiling.

Hand in hand with Charlie, they headed for the exit. This was a new self-confident Liz. So she should. There was really nothing more to hide.

As Jake had predicted, at least a dozen TV crews were waiting outside for Liz to appear. The trial was now very big news in not only the Fashion Press but also in virtually the whole of the mainstream media.

As Liz answered their questions diligently on the steps of the Court Building, Jake stood back and watched the crowd of people milling around.

He noticed a couple of grey suited men standing a few steps away from the crowd watching Liz intently.

Jake was a born and bred New Yorker. He knew two ‘Feds’ when he saw them.

Their dark sunglasses gave the game away. The day was overcast with a hint of rain in the air.

Slowly, he sidled up to them.

“I take it you have an interest in Ms. Harcastle?” he said quietly.
“Push off buddy,” said one guy as he flashed a badge.
Jake saw the letters “BCIS” on it. This was the government agency formerly known as the INS.
He moved away and caught Charlie’s attention.

“There are two guys from Immigration waiting for this to finish” said Jake quietly.

Charlie saw the two men who at that point in time decided they had waited long enough and moved forward flashing their badges.

They literally barged on TV cameraman out of the way and stood in front of Liz.

“Elizabeth Fuller, I’m here to arrest you for a violation of your green card. I have a warrant for your extradition and you will be on the next flight to London”, said the taller of the two men.

As this point, Charlie stepped forward.

“Before you do anything rash and in full view of the media, I would like to suggest that you check your facts. You are responding to allegations from a man who is on trial inside this very courthouse. This is nothing more than a blatant attempt to intimidate a witness.”

The normally reserved Charlie was now in full flow.

He continued.

“If by a green card violation, because she quit her job with the Magazine that sponsored her in the first place then, you are very much mistaken. Liz is indeed no longer employed by the magazine but is a consultant for their parent company. Furthermore,”
Charlie smiled at Liz and took her hand.

“If you had even bothered to ask us about this situation rather than acting on purely spiteful allegations, you would have found that Liz and I were legally married in the state of Massachusetts. She has moreover already applied for a change in status of her Green Card due to her marriage. I can produce the receipts for the application from your office in Las Vegas” He paused.

“Oh, and by the way, I’m her attorney as well her husband.”

There was no immediate reaction from the two men. The TV Crews were capturing this latest twist in the story. At least six channels were broadcasting this live to not only the US but to the World.
“We will gladly accompany you to your offices where this can be cleared up but if you mention the word arrest one more time, I will go right back inside the court house and get an injunction against your intention to deport my wife and client before you can go more than a block. I will also file wrongful arrest charges and request punitive damages not less than $1 Million for defamation.”

He took a deep breath.
He was about to continue when someone else barged their way to the front of the very attentive crowd.

It was Charlie’s mother. She glared at Liz.
“You monster. You abomination. You have stolen my son from me. Take this. May you rot in hell.”
Without hesitation, she threw a jar of red paint in the direction of Liz.

Charlie just managed to pull Liz out of the way. Some of the paint hit a TV Journalist of some renown right in the face. Some also splattered off a TV camera and landed clearly on the face of one of the INS agents.

This spurred them into action.

The handcuffs appeared and before anyone knew it, Charlie’s mother was on the ground with one of the agents roughly pulling her arms behind her and slapping the handcuffs on.

Any thoughts they may have had of arresting Liz was soon forgotten as the roughly pulled her to her feet and marched her away.

Just then, Charlie’s father appeared on the scene very much out of breath.

He realised he was too late.
“Are you two ok?” he asked.
“Yes Pop” replied Charlie.
“Why don’t you go after Mom?”

To Charlie’s amazement, he shook his head.
“No son. She has brought this all on herself. Let her get another lawyer. She is going to need one. I filed for divorce this morning. She’s been seeing the Tennis Coach at the Country Club for a couple of years. She thought I didn’t know but I knew almost from the start. With Liz standing up in court today, I decided that I’d had enough of your mother’s ever more crazy antics. I gave her the papers this morning. I supposed that finally pushed her over the edge. I followed her into the City today but she gave me the slip at Grand Central Station. Lets get the hell out of here. I can fill you in on the gory details later.”

Liz reached out and hugged Charlie Sr. Then she gave him a little kiss on the cheek.
All this was done in front of the TV cameras.

This was definitely Liz’s 15 seconds of fame.

*

On the other side of the Atlantic, in a sitting room in Leicestershire and in an office at the House of Lords two people stood up and cheered loudly.

*

Then Jake brought everyone back to reality.
“Come on, let’s all get out of here before this turns nasty.”

The four of them evaded the ring of TV Cameras and journalists with microphones and headed down the steps towards the road. Jake went ahead and hailed a cab.

The first yellow cab to stop was thankfully a people-carrier. They all piled in and they left the courthouse behind.

Twenty minutes later the cab drew up outside the ‘Brownstone’ where they’d stayed since their arrival in the City.

Once safely inside, Liz tore off the black wig and let her pinned up hair down.
“That feels better” she remarked as she kicked off her heels as well.

Jake appeared with a bottle of Champagne and four glasses.

“What is this in aid of?” asked Charlie Sr.
“The wonderful display put on in court by Liz” said Jake smiling broadly.
“It is a shame I missed it” said Charlie Sr.
“Don’t worry, I recorded it all off ‘Court TV’. You can watch it later” he replied.

Charlie appeared from the bedroom. He’d taken his suit off.
“The next time I wear that will be either at a funeral or a wedding.”

Both Liz and Charlie Sr. laughed.
“Hey, what’s so funny?”
“I can see that Liz has had a real positive affect on you. Once upon a time, and not all that long ago, you wouldn’t even consider going out without a suit on even if you did drive a Porsche” said his Father.

Charlie thought for a moment.
“Well, those days are behind me now.”
He took a champagne flute and added.
“Thankfully. I suppose was rather a boring person wasn’t I?”

Everyone laughed.

Jake made a phone call and not long afterwards, an old colleague of Charlie’s arrived.

“Hi Stewart” he said when the man was shown into the sitting room.
“Hi Charlie. Nice to see you again. You look well”
“Thanks. You don’t look so bad. Gina been feeding you well I see?”
Stewart’s ever expanding waistline had been the standing office joke for sometime. His Italian wife was a fantastic cook and he loved her food.

Stewart wiped the smile off his face.
“Jake asked me to come over and sort out the little problem that Liz is having with the INS.”
“Great. I have all the papers ready for you,” said Charlie ushering Stewart into the dining room. He needed to deal with them to avoid any problem due to the little white lie he’d told on the courtroom steps.
Liz was already fast asleep on the couch. The exploits of the courtroom, the steps outside and a couple of glasses of Champagne had proven too much and literally two minutes after she sat down, she fell fast asleep.

*

The next day, the weather had turned to steady incessant rain. Liz went out and bought a sketchpad and sat by the window drawing the land around their new home in Nevada.

Just after midday, Stewart returned with the news that the BCIS had dropped any case they thought they might have against Liz.

Right at the end of the day, they also received news that Charlie would not have to testify so they were free to go home. It was likely that the jury would be sent out for their deliberations the following Monday morning after the Judge had summed up the case.

After a celebratory meal that night, Charlie and Liz flew back to Nevada the following morning. Charlie Sr. stayed on at the flat for a few days while he sorted out somewhere to live on a temporary basis.

During the three flights west to Reno, both Liz and Charlie had time to read all the reports on the trial and the episode on the steps outside. The coverage in ‘Time’ was especially sympathetic towards Liz.
While they waited for their connection in Chicago, a middle-aged woman sitting next to Liz in the departure lounge said,
“Boy, she has got some guts. Going through what she has gone through and standing up like that to the bullying in Court. Boy, I’d love to meet her some day.”

Liz smiled at Charlie who was sitting opposite. He shook his head slightly as if to say don’t do it.

When their flight was called, they got up to head for the gate. As Liz got up, she whispered in the ear of the woman.

“That woman in court you admired so much? Well, you just met her. That was me in the witness box. Thanks for the compliment. You don’t know how much it means to me. Thank you.”

Liz grinned at the woman and left her with her mouth hanging wide open wondering if she could believe the attractive red-head who had just been sitting quietly next to her for the last half hour.

*

They both felt exhausted by the previous week and the travelling so they booked into a Casino Hotel in Reno.

Liz slept for a little while and then headed for the Casino. True to form, Liz won at a few thousand dollars at Blackjack. Then she got bored so she gave the dealer a tip and looked around for something else to interest her.
The next game to fall to her ‘ability’ was craps. Her winnings soon topped $10,000 so the called it a night probably to the relief of the Casino staff.

She crept back into bed alongside Charlie who was fast asleep. Liz fell asleep with a broad smile on her face.

When they returned to the building site on the reservation, all the workers stopped work and clapped Liz.

“Why are they doing this?” she asked Anders when it had died down.

“This is because of your magnificent appearance in the courtroom. We all watched it that evening. You were brilliant. You deserve an Oscar.”

Liz shook her head.
“I certainly don’t want to do that again thank you very much.”

Those around her laughed at that.
“Anyway, I’m home now. How have things been getting on since we left?”
Anders smiled.

“You had better ask Joe. He is firmly in charge. He is not taking any lip from the workers. Then he buys them all a beer in the evening so I guess he is ok.”

Liz felt happy inside at her choice of Joe to be foreman. It was solely based upon the fact that he had been a Sergeant in the Army. He might not have known the building industry but he sure knew how to get people working.

Liz & Charlie soon found Joe, sitting on top of the site Office roof surveying the scene and talking into a walki-talki (walkie-talkie).

He gave the thumbs up when he saw the couple.

He talked a bit more and less than a minute later, a back hoe digger came over and Joe descended to the ground standing in the digger’s bucket.

“Welcome back. I wondered what the commotion was a few minutes ago.”

She smiled.

“You did great in court by the way”

“Thanks Joe. How are things getting on? Anders aid that you were in charge.”
He smiled.
“Sergeant Joe reporting Ma’am” he replied giving a mock salute but with a cheeky grin on his face.
Liz thought to herself that the change in him since he went to England was pretty dramatic and totally for the good. She made a mental note to tell Kat when she called her later in the day.

“Actually Liz, things are getting on fine. We are ahead of schedule by more than a day. The soil was much easier to dig out than we’d thought.”

He paused.
“The loose conglomerate bedrock does mean that the supporting walls and stuff will have to be stronger though.”

To Liz, it didn’t matter. They were home.

The icing on the cake was a phone call from Jake later afternoon on Monday. The verdict was in. All the defendants had been found guilty on all charges. The jury had taken just over an hour to reach their verdict. Everyone was very happy.

*

Six months later they moved in to their new home and settled down to married life together after an ‘opening ceremony’ that was attended by Bill, Kat, Jake and Charlie’s father as well as many of their neighbours from the reservation.
The house was really one huge room with a number of smaller rooms leading off it. These included the 4 guest bedrooms and a passageway that lead to the stables/garage/workshops that were literally on the other side of the hill under which the whole thing was buried.

Charlie did as he promised and started making furniture for the house and then for sale. Liz’s paintings adorned the walls of the house as well as the Reservation Offices.

The following year, she had an exhibition of her works at an Art and Furniture Gallery in Los Angeles under the ‘She-n-she Hardcastle’ name. Every single one of her pictures sold for a five figure sum.

She did have a little inside help as the Gallery was being now managed by Charles’s father who had left his native New York and his now divorced wife after 35 years of marriage far behind him.
The Gallery was also an outlet for the unique furniture that Charles produced in very small quantities when he had a mind to make some.

Liz used her talents with animals to great effect. She broke in the two ponies they owned and they both rode out several times a week. She also helped out on the Reservation when animals got into trouble. Barbed wire injuries were the most common call upon her time. This work gained her many admirers on the reservation.

Several families on the reservation have built similar houses when they found out that their heating bills for a whole year was in the region of $60.00. The ground water heating system was a complete revelation to the people on the reservation.

[The end…]

Well, not quite.

One afternoon in the spring of their third year living in the house, they had a visitor.
“Hello Al. What’s up?” said Liz when he got out of his pick-up.

He smiled at her.
“Do you remember the first time we met?”
“It was a day I’ll never forget. You read me straight away” replied Liz smiling. Any anger at that had long gone. Al, Billy and Joe had all become firm friends.

He laughed.
“Yes. I did didn’t I? I also said that people like you have a special place in our society.”
“You did indeed. You have all made us very welcome since we came here.”

“We are pleased that you did. This place is wonderful. Many of us are building homes like this now. You have been an inspiration to us.”

“Thank you. Yes. Anders is very busy these days. He told me last week that a tribe in Canada has hired him to build a meeting hall.”
She smiled at him.

“But Al, you didn’t come over here just to tell me that. So, what is it you want?”
He looked a bit uncertain for a few seconds.

“It’s about the rá´le of special people like you in our society. If you remember, I said that in past times, others like you would look after the children.”
“Yes I remember”
“Would you and Charlie be prepared to foster a child?”

You could have knocked her down with a feather.
“Me? Us? Why?”

“It appears to me that you two deserve a child in your life.”
Liz thought for a moment.

“I honestly have never given it a thought. Well, certainly not since my operation. Why do you bring this up now?”

“One of my patients gave birth to her eighth child last week. She can’t cope with four let alone eight. Billy and I wondered if you would foster the baby boy”

“I’m sure we could do it, but I can’t help get the feeling that there is something else?”

Al smiled.
“He’s going to be like you. He has the aura. He is going to be like you.”
Liz beamed a smiled.
“Why the hell didn’t you say so before,” said a beaming Liz.

Three days later, their life was complete with the arrival of ‘Al the Stork’ with their new son.
That evening they sat outside their home watching the setting sun with Liz cuddling the newest member of their family.

As the sun slowly dropped behind the hills in the west, she said to Charlie.
“It’s nice here isn’t it?”

Charlie didn’t need to reply verbally. He just kissed his wife and new son.

[The End (Really)]

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Comments

Claps

-Claps- Very good very good story Had just the right mix of good an bad to keep you wanting more. I'm sad to see this story end but like they say even good things must come to a end. Thank you again Samantha for this wonderful story.

Even with all the ups and

Even with all the ups and downs that have gone on in Liz's life, she and Charlie finally got what they both wanted. A life together and a family, along with complete vindication for Liz regarding her designs. this was a wonderful story and I very much enjoyed it. Samantha, thank you for sharing it with us all.

Loved the story

NoraAdrienne's picture

But actually it's not done yet... Liz has a special child to raise who is a member of the tribe. I'm sure all of us would love to read about him and his crazy mother, say from the age of 5 or so through high school. LOL LOL

Wonderful Conclusion

littlerocksilver's picture

Of course things went the way they should. Your excellent research, and I think, love for that part of the U. S. made the story just that much more enjoyable. Your protagonists were very likeable people. All in all, a very nice story.

Portia

Portia

Excellent, from start to finish.

A magnificent story. I thought that a fashion story would not hold my interest, but once again, I concede that I was completely wrong! Well done, and wonderfully told.
Thank you so much!

Wren

Funny Business

Samantha, very nicely done, the whole story was absolutely fantastic.

The dramatics in the trial was great and the whole story telling was hard not to think of it other than being a true biography of a real person. Mainly Liz.

Wonderful job dear, please keep it up, I look forward to your next story.

Joni W

wonderful

wonderful story, i have enjoyed reading it. looking forward to more of your work. keep up the good work.
robert

001.JPG

A super story indeed ....

... but for me it was slightly spoiled by the odd strange sentences and the repeated mistakes with capitals and punctuation. I applaud your imagination but really wish you would proof-read your output.

Thanks for a good story

Julia

Charlie Sr. and Mr Holmes

There might be a story about Charlies Dad but certainly not for a while.
The use of the name Wendell was a deliberate ploy to aid his recognition when he moved to LA. How relation unless there is a branch of the OWH family in Barnsley, Yorkshire....
Using that name was just a little joke on my part. After all, how many Actors got to Hollywood and change their names.
How many people remember who Archie Leech became?

Thanks for your comments. I'm glad you enjoyed the story.

Names

Don't get too Cary'd away shall we?

Aaaawww, it's over.

Samantha,
Your story was wonderful. It was just about the right length, and unique enough to hold the reader's interest all the way through. Yes, as mentioned above, there were a few bumps in the road where I had to go back and read the paragraph again, slowly, to be sure of what was said or done, but I figured it out and got on with it. I look forward to more excellent works from you. Thank you for sharing your efforts with all of us.
Avid Reader

Very Good

Crying happy tears at the end. I really enjoyed this series. Thanks for posting it here.

I'm Simply Out of Superlatives

Samantha, I have just finished reading this whole story and again, depth of characters, complexity and richness of story and personalities comes to mind. You have enthralled me once again and I thank you.
My dear, when you are good you are very very good...and I suspect than when you are "bad" you are torrid.

Joani

Excellent Story

Plot, characters, pacing, clarity; this story was well done. Very enjoyable to read.

Thanks

Thanks for your kind words. My big problem is coming up with something that can equal this story.

A wonderful story!

I thinks everything that needs to be said about this wonderful story already has been and probably more eloquently than I could.

Just wanted say I really enjoyed it!

Hugs
Gina

Wonderful

Thanks for sharing your great story.

Robyn Adaire

Wonderful tale!

Lucy Perkins's picture

Thank you Samantha for writing this lovely story. Your characters are really believable and I have enjoyed the last week or so that I have spent in their company.. Perhaps thinking a little too much about them when I should have been thinking about other things! My only complaint is that soon I will have finished your back catalogue and then I will just have to start re- reading..and I just love the LA lawyer from Barnsley.. Nowt wrong wi that Duck..as we say from my home town!
Lucy xx

"Lately it occurs to me..
what a long strange trip its been."

Ah, yes!

I remember starting this story a few years back but put it on the backburner for some reason (probably during the time I had my heart surgery). But just the other day I was looking through Samantha's collected works and spotted it so I dropped back in and finished it. As much fun as I remembered it and then some! I'm only left wondering what the ADA was up to with his curious lack of support for Liz and the case. Very suspicious. Was he got at by somebody that wished Liz ill fortune? Maybe Charlie's b***h of a mother?

Well now that I'm looking I should check and see what other gems I have missed. That should keep me occupied for a few days! <3


"Life is not measured by the breaths you take, but by the moments that take your breath away.”
George Carlin

Samantha's story including American Indians

BarbieLee's picture

Born and raised among Indians, went to school with Indians, worked with and beside, and a lot of friends I miss. There is no way I could portray them any better than Samantha did. My heartfelt thanks for a very nice story.
Sam was spot on in the story when the planning commission turned down the housing plans and Liz and Charles laughed. Indian land is a totally different entity than the state it is located in or on and pretty well removed from a lot of Federal laws except the serious ones like murder. Even those are up to first jurisdiction of the person appointed police-sheriff by the tribe.
I had to laugh at Samantha's story when no one knew what a sod house was. Hon, some of our great grandparents lived in such homes when they first settled west. Basically the home you described is an underground house built back into and mostly buried in a hill. A sod home is either blocks of actual sod cut out of the ground or pressed blocks of dirt and stacked like adobe blocks to build walls. In our modern machinery age forms are put up for walls, mixture of dirt, clay, cement is slowly poured into the forms, compacted and coated inside and out when the forms are removed. Two to three feet thick dirt walls are the norm. I guess think of ancient castles and their thick walls? Can we discuss, straw homes, firewood homes, and walls made from tires? There are so many materials one can use, but although the building material is cheap, they are labor intensive.
Samantha, loved your story. Except for your funny way of spelling and some of the words I didn't understand. I don't know who taught you English how to write English but they ought to be shot. You'll just have to come over here across the pond and learn how to speak and write properly. Yuh heah.
hugs hon
always
Barb
Life is a gift. Treasure it until it's time to return it.

Oklahoma born and raised cowgirl

Some great comments

Thanks Barbie Lee.
As always, you are right on the nail.
To recieve those words about how I'd portrayed Indians (sorry Native Americans) is so gratifying especially as someone who lives on a different continent and who has never lived amongst them. That was my biggest worry before I posted this story.

As for my English... I write wot I was taught. Centre rules ok. If my old english teacher (Mrs Greenwood) could see what I've been writing she would be laughing her head off. I could hardly wite a 200 word composition when I was at school. But that was 50 years ago. I left school aged 15 the week that Neil Armstrong set foot on the moon. Writing this brings back memories of arguing with editors over use of British English vs American English in technical documentation when I worked for an American Computer Company back in the 1980's. The product was not for sale in the USA due to the US using NTSC TV and Europe using PAL. The product only worked on PAL signals. I lost the argument which caused a good number of adverse comments from customers. You can't win them all... all the time.

Thanks again,
Samantha

My only complaint

is that the story ended, I wasn't ready to say goodbye to these wonderful characters. All around, simply wonderful.

Not only acceptance,

But the ability to shape a new person's life in a positive manner.