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by Faith Clifford


  Although I had dressed warmly for fending off the winter temperatures I had not anticipated how cold it would be sitting on a hard wooden bench in a comfortless stone-clad hall. The sun was shining brightly through the stained glass window but giving little warmth.

  Even though there were other courtrooms close by, it was a lonely, quiet place to sit.

  I pulled up the collar of my coat, my gloved hands holding open the book that I could not concentrate on reading. My feet were like blocks of ice as I tried to wiggle my toes and I was aware that I was becoming sleepy which, actually, felt quite welcoming. Suddenly I was startled into consciousness by a loud bang of a door and Andre striding towards me bearing a smile that radiated a warmth which had yet to course through my body. He held out his hand to shake mine and said that I could not talk to Jeremy until he had finished giving evidence and that he would take me to lunch. I had not known this and was disappointed as I tried to keep pace with him on the way to the cafeteria on feet that were desperately trying to get some circulation going.

  The cafeteria was packed and there was no seating so Andre and I had to stand chatting while eating our lunch. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Jeremy standing by himself. I felt desperately sad at his predicament because neither Andre nor Leslie could speak to him either while he was still in the middle of giving evidence. I asked Andre how Jeremy was doing and he said he was doing OK but that Challenger was giving him a tough time, which was to be expected. Across the cafeteria Jeremy and I managed to acknowledge each other and give smiles of encouragement. While continuing to make small talk with Andre, I had not noticed that Jeremy had disappeared and that pang of sadness was suddenly back.

  Andre excused himself as he had to get back to Leslie and I followed on at a slower pace. There was little point in rushing to get back to a cold seat but I could see Jeremy was up ahead and I wanted to see him once more before going back into court. To make sure we were not seen communicating I stood behind a pillar away from everyone. I met Jeremy’s gaze as he had been searching for me and I winked and smiled back. Then Andre, Leslie and the rest of the team disappeared with Jeremy back into the court while I settled down at my wooden bench. Other small groups also started to disperse leaving me in the cold silence.

  Every so often I would get up and walk about to explore the corridors, looking through doors and wondering about all the legal issues taking place. Normally I was interested in history and architecture but I could not now appreciate the splendour of these courts and felt that they were bearing down on me.

  To break up the afternoon I visited the cafeteria again for a warm-up. I took out my mobile to call work and to check on messages. I felt cheered that my close friends had sent me good luck messages. After I had finished my calls I made my way back to the big hall, looked through the window at Court 36 to see that everyone was packing up files and Jeremy was no longer on the stand. I felt elated that day one was out of the way and waited patiently for him to come out so that we could get home to our safe place.

  As Jeremy came out of the court he walked quickly towards the way out and beckoned me over. He smiled and said, ‘I can’t talk to you, I’m still giving evidence!’ It was 4.30 p.m. and we were hurrying to avoid the full weight of the London exodus.

  Once we found the car and jumped in before making our way home I asked him how it went, wanting chapter and verse, and I couldn’t believe it when Jeremy told me he was not going to tell me what had happened in the courtroom. How would anyone know what he had divulged and what did it matter? Andre had told him that the protocol was not to talk about anything to anyone while he was still giving evidence and in some ways I was quite impressed with Jeremy’s resolve to adhere to this rule and not risk putting our case in jeopardy.

  The only thing he told me was that most of the questioning was centred around the credit card transactions and his responses in the police interviews. It was quite astonishing that Challenger had made almost a day out of it and I was quite angered that the police were getting a second bite of this cherry. The CPS had thrown this part of their case out originally due to lack of evidence on the incitement charge but now they were picking the subject to pieces and trying to discredit Jeremy.

  I also found out that Leslie had arrived at court that morning with a very bad cold and was suffering quite badly, having developed the initial symptoms overnight. What bad timing, I thought. However, while he and Andre were going through papers before the start of the trial Jeremy had offered to find a chemist and get something to help Leslie get through the day. When he had got to the pharmacist he had asked for the most potent drugs that were available without prescription and would help with the flu but would not render his barrister, who was just about to go into battle on his behalf, unconscious! Jeremy said he was horrified to see the state Leslie was in and had to make sure that his champion would make it through the day and not have to adjourn before we got started, especially after all these years. I felt immensely sorry for Leslie because if you felt that awful you just wanted to curl up under a duvet but I had to admire his resolve to soldier on. Andre and Leslie had fought for Jeremy all this time and they were not going to fall before they had started. Before we got on to discussing more mundane things, Jeremy added that he was not impressed by Mr Justice Cranston and that he had not warmed to him as he had the other judges at the various hearings previously. Andre had said that in his experience you usually get a feeling as to how the judge perceives you and so I felt chilled by the fact that Jeremy thought Cranston ‘did not like us’. Jeremy backed this up by saying that the judge had not been as interactive as the other judges he had encountered at previous hearings. I said that he should not be so paranoid and that it was probably Cranston’s style. I tried to be encouraging but I did have an uneasy feeling. I remembered the face of the magistrate at the old-style committal hearing once child pornography had been mentioned in the opening statements. Although exhausted, sleep had been hard to come by and was fitful. Once again on a dark winter’s morning we forced ourselves to get up for round two, hoping that Challenger’s cross-examination of Jeremy would finally be at an end.

  We travelled together by train this time and got into London early for some breakfast before going on to the court. I had no appetite but struggled to eat some toast washed down with a cup of coffee. Jeremy was quite the opposite, tucking into a hearty breakfast which rapidly disappeared in front of me. I found it perplexing that he could eat whatever the circumstances, but I think it was more about having something to do, rather than sit in the café just staring at a cup of coffee to pass the time.

  I had already been informed by Andre that he hoped that Jeremy’s cross-examination would be finished that morning so that they could get me on the stand. Once this was done, I could then sit in on the rest of the trial rather than while away the hours in the corridors. Although I had wanted to be near to Jeremy the day before, if I had realised how inhospitable it was going to be hanging about outside the courtroom then I would not have come until today. As Jeremy ordered more coffee, I took the time to read over my statement. I knew my truth but I looked at the pages as if it was for the first time because the words were barely sinking in. I don’t know why I was panicking because the story had not changed in five years and the whole experience had been such a traumatic event it was unlikely that I would ever forget it. My stress was making me blind to the words as they merged into each other and so I thought it would be best just to put my statement to one side, relax and read the paper. There were far worse things happening in the world, after all!

  We made our way to the Royal Courts of Justice where Jeremy disappeared into the courtroom to join Andre and Leslie, whereas I went back to the same place as I had been the day before. If only there was some sort of heating to give a bit of comfort, I thought, but then reminded myself that this was the home run. Approximately a couple of hours to lunch and then finally I would be granted access to share the warm of the courtroom and be with Jeremy. However, my h
opes were dashed later on when it was found that George Fouhey had to give his evidence that day or not at all. It turned out that he had a hospital appointment that he had to keep the next day and, depending on treatment, might not be fit enough to return to the court.

  I was sorely disappointed as I was still stuck on the outside, very bored, very cold and very nervous. Annoyingly, it also meant that Jeremy and I could still not be together. I was unable to tag along with Andre and Leslie for lunch as they were going back to Chambers, so there we were, two people who desperately wanted to be together, wandering about in painful isolation. Still, Jeremy had at least finished his part in the trial, his ordeal now being over.

  Back at the seating area that I had adopted as a temporary base, I looked towards the end of the corridor where Court 36 exited. I saw a man sitting with a file and looking through papers and wondered if it was Fouhey. Then another man came through the entrance to the hall and walked towards him and, although I could not see his features very well, there was no mistaking the voice. It was Hopkins! I sat bolt upright, which helped conceal me behind a pillar and where I was able to peek without being seen. I could see Hopkins pacing back and forth and he turned to look up towards my end of the hall. From his position I was sure he could now see me. Our eyes met briefly and suddenly I was back in my bedroom on 30 October 2003 when he told me that Jeremy was being arrested. I remembered those close-set eyes which seemed to hold some amusement at my shock and discomfort. He looked away quickly and I wondered if he had recognised me after all this time, as it had been four and a half years since our last encounter.

  Fouhey acknowledged Hopkins, but did not engage in conversation. Hopkins moved away and then Grundy came out to have a word with him before he disappeared from the hall. It was probably to tell him that he would not be on the stand today and in any case I wanted to get on first so that I could watch Leslie dismantle his testimony.

  Fouhey was then called in and I kept my vigil until late afternoon when Jeremy came out of the courtroom talking with Andre and Leslie in a huddle with their assistants. I was not privy to the conversation but later on, when we were on our way home, Jeremy said that they were ecstatic with the way Fouhey had performed. He was a compliant witness and had apparently, in their words, ‘sung like a canary’. It could not have gone better for us at the end of day two.

  The days were blurring into each other now. It felt like purgatory. Today was the day I was on the stand to give evidence. I was cool and calm on the journey into London, and I tried not to think of what was to come.

  Finally, I was allowed into Court 36. My only view previously had been through the small windows of a door but I could now survey the whole scene. The only outside light came from very high windows at one side to cheer up the dark wood panelling that was everywhere. Even the flooring creaked and groaned with each step as I made my way towards my seat. Behind me sat Dr Stuart Turner, the psychiatrist both Jeremy and I had seen previously, and I acknowledged him with a nodded hello. Jeremy sat beside me at the end of the pew and Andre turned around to talk to us. He gave me that warm smile and talked quickly and quietly of the proceedings for the day. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Challenger setting out his papers and trying to make friendly banter with Leslie while Grundy sat behind him. Over my shoulder a small audience of girls from Andre’s office were settling in with their notebooks.

  From out of nowhere a sudden chill crept up my neck. I found I could barely breathe and I struggled to fill my lungs, but my thoughts were quite lucid in how I was going to get out of this place. It was as though my body was being taken over. Although Jeremy was blocking my path, I thought, I could ease myself past him on the pretext of going to the toilet, get my coat and be out of here. I knew it would let him and the legal team down if I did not give evidence but I knew I could not go through with it. I wanted to scream and cry so hard and beg not to have to go on the stand and there was still time to make my escape. I looked at Jeremy’s face, thinking how much I loved him, and knew that he would understand and eventually forgive me. I had earned Andre’s respect in my undying support for Jeremy and the case and I was sorry that I was going to have to fail both of them now.

  The clatter of a closing door brought me to attention. I was going to have to make my move soon as Andre had returned to his papers, Leslie had put on his wig and the court clerk was moving to the front of the room. My heart thudded faster as my mind pictured myself moving past Jeremy, walking to the door and running down the long corridor towards the freedom of outside. Dramatically I imagined Jeremy and Andre chasing me but I was going to out-run them. ‘Do it now,’ I thought and as I leaned forward to pick up my bag from the floor I heard the clerk announcing ‘all rise’.

  Chapter 37

  MY EVIDENCE

  As I stood with everyone else looking towards Mr Justice Cranston taking his seat I realised I was too late and the phrase, ‘he who hesitates is lost’ came to mind. That was true for sure and I now had to accept what was to come. Cranston acknowledged the gathering and nodded that we could sit down.

  As he sat down higher than all of us atop his bench he reminded me of the character of Waldorf from the Muppets, one of the disagreeable old men who would heckle the other puppets with Statler from their balcony seats. I could see that he was balding from the front with grey and white hair at the sides with his wig perched in the middle. This would become a familiar sight to me as the trial progressed, because his judging style was to say little, keep his head down and write copious notes.

  My thoughts were interrupted by Leslie opening proceedings quickly. ‘My Lord, I think the state of proceedings is that we should hear from Mrs Clifford first.’ My stomach churned. Despite the fact that I was beginning to accept my fate, the idea of passing out to delay the inevitable popped up in my mind. Leslie continued, ‘I am just going to touch upon one or two matters and how it has affected the relationship. Then we are going to hear from Dr Turner, the claimant’s psychiatrist, then we are going to hear from Dr Van Velsen, the defendant’s psychiatrist.’

  Challenger got up to announce that Dr Van Velsen had not yet arrived at the court and that Grundy was checking her whereabouts.

  There was a little more interaction between the parties and then I heard Cranston say, ‘Let us hear from Mrs Clifford.’ This was it. Here we go, I thought. As I stood Andre turned to give me a reassuring smile. Passing Jeremy, he placed the flat of his hand at the small of my back for some comfort. He knew how I would be feeling. As I got nearer to the stand it rose above me like a wooden tower that had to be climbed. For a moment I disappeared from the view of everyone to climb the steps before emerging into the witness box like it was some castle turret. I was now on more of a level, but side on with Cranston and as I turned to face Leslie and my fighting corner, they seemed to be so far away and small. The stool was so high that I could not get up on it properly with my legs trembling so much so I chose to remain standing but lean against it. I was given a Bible by the clerk of the court and was sworn in. Feeling queasy at this lofty height, I turned towards Leslie who said, ‘There are a couple of things about giving evidence in court. One of them is to keep your voice up. I could not hear you over here and it may be that because I have a cold my ears are a bit blocked but if you could keep your voice up please. Secondly, listen to the questions and watch his Lordship’s pen because he is making a note of what you say. Start by giving your full name.’

  ‘Faith Julie Clifford,’ I replied.

  Leslie responded: ‘I still cannot hear you.’

  ‘Faith Julie Clifford,’ I repeated, feeling as though I had made a huge effort to shout. It sounded loud from where I was but obviously by the time my voice reached those at the low seats, I was barely audible. As I looked towards Leslie I saw Andre looking concerned, probably thinking I was not going to be as good a witness as they thought I was going to be. Now I was up here, I had to get a grip.

  ‘And your address?’ was Leslie’s next question. I res
ponded with a louder voice this time but I got: ‘Louder please.’ Frustrated, I repeated my address and I could see Leslie’s big sigh with the rise and fall of his chest. I could see he was annoyed and felt tears threaten to well up in my eyes. He said, ‘I know it is difficult and I know you are not used to speaking in court and the acoustics in this building are not fantastic, but it really is important that your evidence is heard. Do you understand?’

  ‘Oh, dear God,’ I thought. ‘I so wish I could be spirited away somewhere.’ I looked towards Jeremy and his head was tilted to one side with a look of pity and concern.

  I answered, ‘Yes,’ and then was asked my occupation. ‘Facilities Manager,’ I responded. I must have hit the right pitch because the questions from Leslie started to flow without complaint.

  ‘And are you Jeremy Clifford’s wife? When were you married? Obviously you remember the wedding day, what time did you get married?’ As I answered each of the questions in turn I began to feel more at ease. I knew where Leslie was leading me to get the point over at what time we were married to dispute the police accusation that Jeremy was purchasing child pornography on 21 April 1999 around that time. My responses were short in either ‘yes’ or ‘no’ format, and then Leslie asked if Jeremy had bought a laptop computer to the wedding and I started to grin. I replied ‘no’, and then had to suppress laughing out loud when he said, ‘So, as you were talking to the registrar, he was on the internet trawling for porn?’ I again replied ‘no’. So far in this question and answer dialogue I realised I had forgotten to look towards the judge, as it is customary to do. I was so mesmerised by Leslie’s theatrical presence in the courtroom that everyone else had faded into the background. He paused to look to Challenger and Grundy to see if this point had sunk in for them and then he told Cranston that he was going to play a tape for me to identify the voice. The tape was duly played and again Lloyd Gerard rose from the dead. His weedy little voice filled the room as a small part of the dialogue of his conversation with Julie Cullivan was played. I confirmed that this was indeed Gerard and that the other voice was Julie Cullivan. Leslie then asked if I knew what this case was about and to confirm that the statement in the file in front of me was mine and to read the sentence above my signature. ‘I believe the facts stated in this witness statement are true,’ I read, and then confirmed that I still stood by that. Leslie asked Cranston to accept my statement as evidence. Cranston responded ‘yes’, but did not look up.

 

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