Cuckoo (aka Claire, Darling)

Chapter Fifty-Six

Chapter Fifty-Six

Joseph Miles

‘Our first witness to the stand today is Joseph Miles,’ Dodgson announces the next day. He says it as though it’s a grand event, a celebrity meet’n’greet. Joseph is tall and gangly, with curly dark hair and bushy eyebrows. He’s young, perhaps in his late twenties.

I realise with a sinking heart that I know this man. I know him, but my head is foggy and I can’t quite seem to place him.

‘Mr Miles, is the Claire Arundale sitting over there’ – a nod towards me – ‘the Claire Arundale that you know?’ Dodgson asks.

Joseph glances over at me for the first time, his eyes quickly darting away.

‘Yes,’ he confirms.

‘And will you tell the court how you know her?’

‘From Morrisons, sir,’ he replies.

Ah, yes. He works at my local Morrisons. That’s where I recognise him from, although seeing him in a badly fitting suit in this setting has thrown me. Usually when I see him he is in his store uniform.

‘I’m the manager there,’ he explains. ‘And Miss Arundale worked for us for a while.’

Immediately, I frown.

I look towards Grosvenor but she shows not a flicker of emotion or reaction, as though none of this is fazing her. As though she knew it was coming. So I stay calm on the outside. On the inside, I’m wondering what the hell is going on, why this man is here speaking for the prosecution.

‘And when did Miss Arundale stop working for you?’

‘September the eighteenth 2024, sir.’

I freeze. That’s not right.

‘You seem sure of that date?’ Dodgson asks.

‘I am, sir.’

‘Why?’

‘I had to fill in a lot of paperwork about it, sir. With HR,’ Joseph clarifies.

‘And why was that?’

‘Well, because there was no notice period or anything. She just left halfway through her shift and didn’t come back,’ he explains.

I’m frowning so hard that it feels as if my forehead may split at any moment, because I do not have a single clue what this man is talking about. He works at Morrisons, yes. But I certainly didn’t, not in 2024.

I lean over to Grosvenor.

‘Shhh!’ she hisses at me before I even open my mouth, and I recoil like a scolded puppy.

‘Is that unusual?’ Dodgson asks, turning to raise his brows at the jury knowingly.

‘Well, yes,’ Joseph replies. ‘Usually you would hand in written notice to say you’re resigning, and work for another couple of weeks while we found a replacement. Claire’s contract had a one-month notice period she should have fulfilled. And I’ve never before had a staff member leave mid-shift without giving any sort of reason.’

That’s because it’s weird . Who would leave mid-shift at work without saying anything? I certainly would not do something like that. None of this makes any sense… My head is starting to ache, a dull pain deep in the back of my skull, and I imagine little bugs crawling out of the crevices of my brain as I try to compute what is happening.

‘What was Miss Arundale like to work with in general?’

‘Well, she was a very good employee – she worked with us for years,’ Joseph admits, glancing at the jury. ‘She arrived on time, she was polite, helpful with customers. Didn’t require much training, she picked things up quickly. Covered people when sick, always up for a bit of small talk in the aisles between tasks when things were quiet…’ He trails off, as though unsure if he’s saying the right things.

‘So you would say it was out of character, for her to leave randomly mid-shift?’ Dodgson asks.

‘Absolutely.’ Joseph nods vigorously, as though pleased to have been asked a question he can answer wholeheartedly.

‘And no member of your staff knew why she left? There was no obvious incident? No family emergency of any sort?’

‘Not that I heard of,’ Joseph replies carefully. ‘I asked everyone, obviously, who was on that shift with her, but nobody knew of anything at all. She seemed fine when she came in. But I know that her mother had died just a week before. Miss Arundale hadn’t wanted any time off, said that they weren’t close, that she wanted to keep working… to stay busy.’ He chews his lip.

‘We have some CCTV footage of her final shift that we’d like to play for the court. After viewing it, will you please confirm that the footage is authentic and is from your place of work?’

‘Yes.’ Joseph nods.

A tape is produced, pulled from a clear, creased, evidence bag. And on a screen that has been set up for the jury flashes up CCTV of Morrisons. The wine aisle. And there is Noah, and there am I, on the day that we met.

‘Objection! This is new, last-minute evidence,’ Grosvenor begins, but the judge quickly cuts her off.

‘Overruled.’

For the first time, Grosvenor looks shaken. This footage is obviously something that she did not know Dodgson had access to.

I blink at the grainy CCTV footage, the ache in my head creeping forward to a point in my forehead. Grosvenor is still as a hawk beside me, her hands folded carefully in front of her as the footage sits in a mocking freeze-frame in front of us.

‘Please note the date and timestamp here,’ Dodgson explains, pointing to the bottom right-hand corner of the footage: 18 September 2024, 5.07 p.m.

The day I met Noah.

‘Before we play this footage, can you confirm the timings of Miss Arundale’s scheduled shift that day?’ Dodgson asks Joseph.

‘Yes, I have a copy of the timetable from that day. Claire was in to work a two ’til close. Ten p.m.,’ he clarifies.

‘I’d also like to establish that the two people we see in this footage are, quite clearly, Claire Arundale and Noah Coors.’ Dodgson points his finger again at the screen and then the footage begins to play.

I’m standing in the wine aisle, and I’m wearing a Morrisons uniform, sorting out the bottles on the shelves.

‘This is…’ I whisper to Grosvenor, but she cuts me off with a raised hand, eyes not leaving the screen. I’m not even sure she’s breathing, her chest is so still.

I try not to fling myself across the room, the desire to cover the screen with my body suddenly overwhelming me. Instead, I sit back and watch Noah approach me on the footage. He looks gorgeous. Seeing him on-screen like this makes him look like a movie star. And to be honest, this bizarre fictionalised setting is only adding to the cinematic quality of what I’m seeing. We appear to speak, though there is no sound. I watch myself walk him halfway along the aisle and hold up a bottle of red wine. I appear to be speaking about it and Noah smiles and takes it, adding it to his basket. Then, I show him a white wine bottle and he takes that, too, still speaking to me. I watch as he strolls off-screen.

A new crack of pain slices its way through my left temple. Moments later, the me on-screen picks up another bottle of wine and follows him, leaving the frame.

The footage then cuts to the store front and we can see Noah leaving, having paid for his bags of shopping. A minute later, there I am, appearing to follow him out. The wine bottle is now gone from my hands, discarded somewhere between leaving the wine aisle and exiting the store. The footage stops.

‘And that was when Miss Arundale left?’ Dodgson asks Joseph.

‘There’s no footage of her returning that day. So I think she left at that point and did not return, yes.’

‘And is it fair to say that from the footage we have just seen, it seems Miss Arundale and Mr Coors had a professional interaction, and Miss Arundale then followed him out of the store uninvited?’ Dodgson continues.

‘It could appear that way, yes,’ Joseph replies.

‘No further questions.’ Dodgson resumes his seat. Grosvenor stands. ‘Just one question from me.’ She smiles at Joseph warmly and I see his shoulders visibly drop as he relaxes.

‘There was no audio on the tape,’ she comments.

‘Correct. Our CCTV records without audio,’ Joseph confirms.

‘So it is very much possible that when we watch my client speaking with Mr Coors and handing him the wine bottle, he has asked her to leave and meet him at a nearby coffee house?’

‘Yes, that is always possible.’ Joseph nods.

‘Thank you, Mr Miles. That is all.’

He nods at me, a small smile on his face as though we are friends, and leaves the stand. My entire body is tense, but to my great alarm I notice that beside me, for the first time, Grosvenor is just as tense as I am.