Unforgotten by Clare Francis Page A

there was a hearing,’ he said on a tense note. ‘But it’s like I said – nothing’s gonna be sorted till January.’
    ‘And did you get a medical report for this hearing, Tom? Something to say you were better?’
    A pause, then Tom gave a snort of disbelief. ‘How would I do that?’
    ‘I don’t know. Go to another psychiatrist?’
    ‘Yeah? And where would I get one? Yellow Pages?’
    ‘I need an answer, Tom.’
    Tom’s profile took on a haunted expression, and something harsher, like bitterness. Flicking Hugh a dark scowl, he said, ‘There’s nothing to answer. Okay?’
    ‘Do I have your word on that?’
    ‘You can have whatever you like,’ he muttered.
    ‘Just your word, Tom.’
    Tom was shaking his head. ‘I still don’t get what this’s got to do with anything, for Christ’s sake.’
    ‘Well . . . it’s to do with playing it straight, Tom, with not saying one thing to one court and something different to another.’
    Tom argued with sudden vehemence, ‘Jesus, if you think I’m gonna tell the family court I’ve still got raging post-traumatic stress, then you must be bloody joking. Christ, they’d turn me down quicker than look at me. And then the boys would end up in care. In bloody care . And then I’d never get another chance. Never. ’
    ‘Tom, I understand how much you want the children—’
    ‘There’s no way I’m gonna risk my boys. No way! I love my boys. I need my boys. They’re all that keep me bloody going. No way I’m gonna give ’em up.’ He glared accusingly at Hugh. ‘So don’t even think about it.’
    ‘But this way you’re risking both cases, Tom. You’re risking having your damages cut and you’re risking’ – he almost said ‘losing your children’ but rapidly amended this to – ‘forfeiting the goodwill of the family court.’
    ‘But no one has to know,’ Tom argued. ‘The family court stuff happens in private. No one’s allowed to tell what happens in there. So who’s gonna find out? Who’s gonna know?’
    ‘ I found out, Tom. I know.’
    ‘It was Emma Deeds, was it? The bitch.’
    ‘No, it wasn’t Emma Deeds. I don’t know who it was.’
    Tom gave an incredulous frown. ‘Oh yeah?’
    ‘It was an anonymous letter.’
    Tom rolled his eyes. ‘ Linda .’
    ‘I don’t think so.’
    ‘Come on .’
    ‘The person didn’t give a name.’
    ‘But it has to be Linda, doesn’t it?’ Tom scoffed furiously. ‘The stupid cow.’
    ‘Well, whoever it was, the fact is that I do know, Tom, andI can’t pretend I don’t.’ But Tom was too busy fuming against Linda to take this in. ‘Listen,’ Hugh said when he was a little quieter, ‘don’t let’s get too worried till we see what Desmond says. You never know, there might be a way to limit the damage.’
    He had Tom’s full attention again now. ‘What the hell are you talking about?’
    ‘Well, Desmond’s the expert, Tom, not me. He’s the one who can advise us on the best way forward.’
    ‘But this stuff – it’s just Linda playing stupid bloody games! It’s crap. It’s nothing.’
    ‘When you say nothing . . . ?’
    ‘It’s not true. Okay? It didn’t happen.’
    Voices echoed in the passage, and Hugh glanced round to see two barristers emerging from the next-door court.
    Hugh dropped his voice. ‘Look, Tom, whatever’s done is done. But it’s going to be far better to have it come out sooner rather than later. Believe me. Because something like this will come out, you know. It always does.’
    ‘I’ve just told you – it’s a non-event! It didn’t happen!’
    ‘Are you saying you didn’t get another opinion?’
    Tom gave a sudden shiver. ‘For Christ’s sake, just drop it, will you?’
    ‘I can’t just drop it, Tom.’
    ‘You’re my solicitor, you’re meant to be on my side.’
    Letting this pass, Hugh said, ‘Look, if we go to the judge and tell him the whole story, how you persuaded yourself you were well because you were so desperate to get custody of the