Behind A Painted Smile

Dressed in a dark-grey suit and a red cashmere jumper, Donna Joseph looked much younger than her thirty-five years. Her naturally beautiful face devoid of make-up looked paler than usual with dark circles under her eyes. She'd noticed them this morning while brushing her hair in the mirror but couldn't be bothered to do anything about it. Who cared what she looked like? She had more important things to worry about.

With her hands clasped in her lap, she stared straight ahead at the dock, eyes transfixed on the lines and contours of Dan's face- etching them to her memory. Scared that if she blinked, his face would become a blur, and that's how she'd always remember him.

A hush fell over the court as the jury returned to their seats. A look of confidence passed over Dan's chiselled features. Bordering on arrogance, it hung in the air like an invisible presence while they listened to the judge summarise the case. In his white curly wig and gown, he sat at the front of the court on a raised bench like a king on his throne, his deep baritone voice matching his appearance.

"Please don't find him guilty," she muttered under her breath.

The woman sitting on her left turned and gave a half-smile. Donna's lashes rested on her cheek as she glanced at her friend Paula, and then turned her attention back to the judge.

"Daniel Joseph, there is no doubt in my mind you planned this robbery using innocent people as pawns in order to satisfy your greed for material wealth. On account that you have no previous convictions, I impose a somewhat more lenient sentence than I might have done otherwise. You will go to prison for twelve years. I recommend you serve at least half of your sentence in closed conditions before you become eligible for parole." He rapped his gavel on the rosewood block. "Take him down."

Donna's mouth opened and shut like a ventriloquist's dummy. Her eyes locked with Dan's as two security guards stepped forward and grabbed his arms. He towered over them by at least four inches, dwarfing them with his 6' 2" muscular build. She continued to stare, craning her neck to keep him in sight. The more she leaned, the further he slipped away from her. He mouthed the words 'I love you' seconds before he disappeared from view.

"How can he get twelve years," Paula screeched. "Their evidence was crap?"

Donna shook her head and rose to her feet. Blinding pain shot behind her eyes. She stumbled from the courtroom and made her way outside. The cold breeze soothed her cheeks as she leaned against the wall and lit up a cigarette.

"Are you all right?"

Donna looked up to see Paula hurrying towards her. Rich auburn locks gelled and secured in a bun at the nape of the neck, accentuated her friend's sharp features, making the skin appear almost translucent.

"I'm not sure," Donna said. "I'm still in shock." She lit another cigarette from the one she held in her fingers before stamping out on the pavement. "What do you think will happen to Sedrick?"

"Sounds like he's gonna walk. At least that's the impression I got from the judge."

The theme tune from Love Story made them both jump. Donna

delved in her bag and retrieved her cell phone. 'Number unknown' flashed up on the screen. She pressed answer and waited for the caller to speak. 'It's Dan,' she mouthed as her husband's voice came on the line.

Paula nodded and checked her watch. "I better get back. The Judge only gave a short five minute recess." She stood on tiptoe and kissed Donna on the cheek. "I'll call you later and let you know the outcome."

Tears sprung to Donna's eyes as she watched her go. She blinked them back, forcing herself to stay strong.

"Dan, what happened? I thought you said their evidence was weak."

"It was. The bastard judge stitched me rite up. But, don't worry - I'm gonna appeal. His voice lowered to a whisper. "I can't say too much on the phone- too many ears about. They're taking me to The Ville. Phone up and book a reception visit for tomorrow. I'll talk to you then."

An image of a formidable looking Victorian building obscured her vision. An image she'd buried long ago, under a pile of rubble in the recess of her mind where she thought it could never resurface.

"Donna ... are you still there?"

"Yeah, I'm here."

"Gotta go, babe - screws are giving me the evil. Give my love to the kids - and remember, 1+1=3."

The line went dead in her hand before she could say it back. Filled with an empty void, she pushed herself away from the wall and headed towards the car park. Once she got to the privacy of her vehicle she laid her head on the steering wheel and wept. Probably very selfish of her considering, but she couldn't help it. A tap at the window stemmed her tears in mid-flow. Startled, she raised her head. A man wearing a sheepskin overcoat and a bright-yellow woollen hat peered through the closed window.

"Are you okay, Ma'am?"

Donna glanced at his grubby fingertips pressed against the glass. The vivid colours of his fingerless gloves matched with the satin ribbons woven into the matted locks of hair dangling past his shoulders. Her heartbeat quickened. Is he genuinely concerned for my well-being, or am I about to get robbed? Either way, she wasn't prepared to wait around to find out. Fumbling with her keys, she switched on the engine and rammed her foot on the accelerator. A wave of guilt pricked her conscience as she glanced in the rear-view mirror at the man swathed in a cloud of exhaust fumes, looking bewildered. Her phone rang for the second time and she wedged it between her ear and shoulder as she manoeuvred the vehicle into the late afternoon traffic. Maisy's cut-glass accent travelled down the line.

"I'm so sorry, Donna. I've just received an email from Dan's solicitors. None of us expected a custodial sentence. We thought it would be a cinch."

"The judge hammered him." A hard lump constricted her throat making it painful to swallow. "Maisy, how am I gonna cope? The kid's school fees are due any day and the Judge has frozen all our assets until the confiscation order has been finalised."

"You need to make an appointment to come and see me. Dan knew this would happen one day. In his line of business it's inevitable. He's made good provisions for you, Donna. You don't need to worry. Everything will be taken care of."

"What am I gonna tell the kids? They idolise their father."

"Honesty is the best policy. If you lie to them and they find out, they'll never trust you again."

"But it will break their hearts."

Donna dropped the phone in her lap as a police car pulled alongside her. The palms of her hands moistened with sweat when she noticed him checking her out. Did he know her husband was a bank robber? Was that the reason for his undisguised interest? Don't be so paranoid, Donna. Get a grip.

The lights changed and the police wagon cruised away. She picked up the phone to find Maisy still talking. Embroiled in one of her lectures, the woman hadn't even realised she'd gone.

"You've always been aware of Dan's involvement with crime," Maisy continued, "and you chose to turn a blind eye. You can't suddenly start whinging now, just because he's experiencing a little ... how we shall put it - occupational hazard."

"I'm not whinging, I--"

"Yes you are. I can hear it in your voice. Now, pull yourself together and stop wallowing in self-pity. I'll arrange for some money to be transferred from Dan's off shore account. That should see you through until--"

"It's not just about the money," Donna cut in. "It's about Dan. In all the years we've been married, we've never been apart for more than twelve hours never mind twelve years."

The sound of Maisy exhaling her breath travelled down the line. "I don't wish to sound rude, Donna. But I don't really have time for this. I'll call you later, after I've spoken to Dan."

A burning resentment formed in the centre of Donna's stomach. It coiled its way up through her chest and into her mouth. How dare she hang up on me? She considered ringing back to give Maisy a piece of her mind, but good would that do? It would only result in an argument and make matters worse. Instead, she threw the phone on the passenger seat and focused her anger on the road.

The pain in her head worsened as she left the dual-carriageway and turned into Briary Avenue. She could see the school up ahead. The Steeply pitched roof and prominent gables, stood tall and majestic amongst the residential Tudor style homes. Any minute now Charlotte and Emily would stroll through the wrought iron gates and she would have to deliver the news that would shatter their illusions and change their lives forever. A fresh flood of tears threatened to spill. She'd rather die than hurt her girls.