by K. L. Slater
It was a bright but cooler day than earlier in the week. She watched two regal swans glide by, their feathers ruffling with the breeze. The surface of the water was blue, tipped with white ruffles as the current whipped it along. It was so peaceful here, she could almost fool herself that everything was fine.
Justine closed her eyes and took a few measured breaths. Her shoulders dropped slightly but her stomach still felt too unsettled to relax properly. The fear that she’d be caught out was strong. Sometimes getting found out felt almost like a premonition, a certainty that would come to pass… but she was in too far to stop this now.
The silver car turned into the main parking area, its chrome wheels glinting in the sun. Justine already knew the last three letters of the registration number were BKD. So this was definitely the one.
She swallowed the lump in her throat and checked her face in the rear-view mirror.
This was it. There could be no going back now.
Ten
ESME
As the clock ticked relentlessly towards the time of the meeting and there was still no sign of Michelle, I decided to immerse myself in the notes I’d made on The Fischer Files.
Before my first prison visit to interview Simone for episode one, I met with Janice Poulter, the founder of FSF, the Free Simone Fischer action group. She had links with a national group, Justice for Women, and access to a pool of legal advice and other experienced professionals who gave their time for free.
Simone was lucky to have them behind her, supporting her. The group members included legal and PR experts. They had secured a number of early releases or retrials for several convicted women over the last decade, but had yet to make progress with Simone’s case – because of her unpopularity with the British public, some felt.
When Simone first agreed to take part in the podcast, I emailed Janice and asked for a meeting. I wanted to get their support. I knew it would be invaluable to understand everything the group had tried to do for Simone and what the major obstacles had been.
‘Janice has the contacts to smooth the way with prison authorities to allow us a private weekly meeting,’ Simone told me at our initial meeting. ‘Any press communications from the prison have to be authorised by the board.’
I got the distinct impression that Janice would be a powerful ally if I could strike up a rapport with her and gain her trust.
We met in a coffee shop halfway between Ashford and Nottingham. She was middle-aged with short, mousy hair and wore slightly zany cerise-pink glasses. She gave off a relaxed vibe but I soon realised she was a focused woman who passionately believed in Simone’s innocence.
‘We’ve been trying a long time to get her justice,’ Janice said as she sipped her latte. ‘She seems to think you’re different, that you’ve got a more honest agenda than the press who’ve tried to get her to talk before. It’s probably because of your Women in Prison work at Sky News.’
The Women in Prison project had skimmed the surface of the UK prison system and it had whetted my appetite to delve deeper.
‘I want to tell her story,’ I said, tearing open a sugar sachet. ‘I mean her real story. Like lots of women who commit crimes, Simone was immediately vilified by the public. Demonised, even before her trial took place.’
Janice nodded. ‘I see it all the time. People will readily accept violence from men if they’re pushed to their limits, but a woman? She’s just expected to keep taking it and never complain. It’s an attitude rooted in our society.’
Janice and I were on the same page, it seemed.
‘What have been the group’s main initiatives over the years to free Simone?’ I asked her.
Janice puffed out air. ‘We’ve had major rallies and fundraising events, all the usual tools we use to raise awareness. We’ve done everything that’s worked for other individuals, but we’ve never been able to drum up the same support for Simone. I think what she did was just too… too violent, and the fact she did it while her son was close by. People can’t accept that anyone could be pressed so hard they’d snap like that. Apart from the ones who’ve been through a similar ordeal, of course.’
‘“What kind of mother would do that?” That’s probably the most common comment on the forums,’ I said. ‘The sort of remark that garners the most likes.’
I hated that phrase. Owen had used it on me, after Zachary’s accident. What kind of a mother would prioritise work above her son? What kind of a mother wouldn’t want to spend every free moment with him?
‘Don’t forget there are plenty of people around who don’t agree with what we’re doing,’ she told me. ‘Just be aware they’re out there. Not everyone believes Simone Fischer deserves to be a free woman and, given a chance, they’ll show in no uncertain terms how they feel.’
We talked a bit about my future visits to the prison.
‘I’ll use my contact at the prison to try and smooth the way ahead for you a bit, securing the same private room you initially met Simone in as your regular meeting space.’
It would make a huge difference. I could hardly expect Simone to relax and open up in the highly visible main visiting hall.
‘One more thing you need to know,’ Janice adds before I leave. ‘You’ll probably have to put up with quite a bit of input from Simone’s brother, Peter. Her son, Andrew, is the opposite of that; I’ve only met him once.’
‘This is the son who was there that day?’
‘Yes. He’s a staunch supporter of his mother but has always preferred to keep out of the spotlight so he can live a normal life. He claims he can’t remember a thing about that day and… well, suffice to say that he and his Uncle Peter don’t get on.’
I waited, feeling she wanted to say more. Over the years as a reporter, I’d developed a kind of knowing. Not exactly a sixth sense, nothing as mystical as that. More of an instant reading of language, behaviour, the body language of others. And Janice was holding something back, I could feel it.
‘Why is it they don’t get on, do you think?
‘Andrew thinks Peter enjoys the limelight of his mother’s notoriety too much. Peter is… let’s just say sometimes he likes to try and speak for Simone. When you do get to meet him, which I doubt will be long now, you’ll need to make your boundaries clear and that’s all I’ll say on the matter. I don’t want to get involved. I’m sure you’ll reach your own conclusions.’
It sounded a touch ominous, but I didn’t want to press too hard at this stage and scare Janice off.
I slid my card across the table. ‘Can I ask you to pass my contact details on to both Andrew and Peter? I’d love to chat to both of them. I appreciate they might decline but I want to extend the invitation.’
She nodded and took the card and I thanked her, feeling grateful for her honesty even though we’d just met.
‘I appreciate you being candid with me, Janice,’ I said. ‘I need all the friends I can get on this case. If we’re to try and change opinion about Simone, we have to try and get to the truth.’
She smiled. ‘I’d say you’re going to do just fine. I like to think I’m a good judge of character and I believe you genuinely want to help her.’
‘I’m going to do my level best to do so,’ I agreed. ‘I believe I can produce something that finally makes the public and the authorities sit up and listen. See Simone for the woman she is and not some fictionalised evil harridan.’
‘I wish you luck,’ Janice said. ‘I hope you can get further than we’ve managed to so far. Anything else I can do, just let me know.’
When I made my way back to the car, I felt confident and fired up for the project. Even though the very person Janice had tried to warn me about would soon try his best to scupper everything.
To calm my nerves while I waited for Michelle to arrive, I decided to listen to the second episode of The Fischer Files, which would be aired in just a few days’ time.
Eleven
THE FISCHER FILES
EPISODE TWO: THE MARRIAGE
&nbs
p; I’m speaking to you again from outside HMP Bronzefield women’s prison in Ashford, Middlesex.
In this week’s episode I’ll be asking Simone Fischer about her childhood and asking her what life was like living with a man she felt she had no option but to kill in order to escape from.
Grant Austin Fischer, the man Simone was married to for twenty years.
To quote some of the newspaper reports, Grant was ‘brutally murdered on a sunny afternoon in broad daylight’. But the attack didn’t happen in the street; he wasn’t slaughtered by a stranger. Grant was killed by his own wife, in his own kitchen while their twelve-year-old son, Andrew, played on his games console in the next room.
Simone Fischer has always maintained she was never guilty of cold-blooded murder, that she never planned what happened that day in 2009. Instead, she says she was driven to kill after suffering years of abuse, withstanding cruel and debasing treatment on a daily basis.
Maybe you’re wondering how someone finds themselves in a situation where, before they even realise it, another person is controlling their every move? Maybe you wonder how that same person comes to make a last-ditch attempt for freedom the only way they can.
Simone is the only person alive who really knows what happened that day. This is her story.
You’re listening to a Speaking Fox podcast and I… am Esme Fox.
So I’ve just arrived in the prison car park and checked my phone and I’ve had a text message from Simone’s brother, Peter Harvey. He says he’s waiting for me outside the prison right now. That’s quite interesting, I wasn’t expecting that!
Just getting together my paperwork and… my handbag. Got that. Lock the car, ready to go.
There are plenty of people around the prison entrance. It’s a busy place, as you’d expect. I’m just looking around the front of the building where I’d imagine Peter might be… oh yes, I’ve spotted a man who’s obviously waiting for someone. He’s checking his watch, eyes searching the approaching visitors. I haven’t seen a recent picture of Peter Harvey but this guy is about five foot nine, stocky and going bald… he’s looking around and… yep, I think he’s spotted me.
Peter: Are you Esme Fox?
Esme: I am. It’s Peter, isn’t it? Sorry I can’t shake your hand, I’m carrying all this stuff and—
Peter: Look, I’ve come here today to tell you I’m not happy about whatever it is you’re up to. Why are you bothering my sister?
Esme: I’m making a podcast about Simone’s case, Peter.
Peter: You’re giving her false hope, is what you’re doing. She keeps talking some nonsense about her getting out when your programme’s aired.
Esme: Sorry you see it like that. I explained to Simone what would be involved in making the podcast and she decided it was what she wanted. I can assure you it was all very transparent.
Peter: Yeah, well, she can be impulsive sometimes, doesn’t know what’s best for her. That’s why she needs me to oversee things. So, in the future, you need to speak to me about—
Esme: Really? It doesn’t strike me Simone needs anyone to tell her what to think. I’d better get inside, I don’t want to be late for my appointment time.
Peter: Appointment? I’ve heard it all now! Don’t know whether you’ve noticed but Simone is a convicted prisoner, not an office worker. It’s a prison visit you’re here for. Are you recording all this? I thought you were supposed to tell people they’re being taped.
Esme: I’m holding my phone out in front of me, I thought it was pretty obvious. Let’s be optimistic, shall we? If this episode is as successful as the last one, Simone might not be in here for much longer. Shall we go inside?
We’re heading into the prison now. Next stop, security…
And out the other side. Collecting my bag and paperwork… got it all. I’ve got a prison guard, Kat, escorting me like last time and Simone’s brother, Peter Harvey, is here with me, of course.
Peter: Hey, please don’t talk about me into that thing.
Esme: Sorry, this is a podcast production. Everything has to be recorded, that’s kind of the whole point.
We’ve just arrived outside the room I’m meeting Simone in. The officer’s gone in first like before and I can see Simone is sitting at the same table as before. She’s giving me a little wave, she looks pleased to see us.
Peter: I think you’ll find it’s me she’s waving to.
Simone’s beckoning the officer in. Guess we’ll just have to wait to hear what the problem is. She doesn’t look too pleased. Here we go… she’s coming out again now. I need to turn the recording off a moment.
Right, OK, back now. Simone told the officer she didn’t want her brother, Peter, sitting in on our meeting. He’s already left, didn’t look too happy about it. But it certainly simplifies things for me. I want Simone to feel relaxed and able to speak freely in our session.
I’m going in.
Esme: Hi, Simone. Peter just left.
Simone: Good. He means well, he tries to look out for me. But the way I look at it, I had a man who told me what to think for twenty-four years… I don’t need another. Now and again I have to kick him to the kerb.
Esme: What about your son, Andrew? Do you see him regularly?
Simone: He does visit me, less often than I’d like but that’s OK, he has his own life now. My brother looked after him until he was sixteen. Peter didn’t want to but I begged him. It stopped them taking him into care, you see.
Esme: You must have been very grateful to him for doing that.
Simone: Yes, of course.
Esme: I’d love to speak to Andrew. Just a short chat, if possible.
Simone: Well… I’ll ask him but that’s all I can do. He lives a private life, a life away from the stigma of what I did. I can’t blame him for that.
Esme: Is that lonely for you, though? Knowing he’s keeping you at arm’s length?
Simone: I don’t look at it like that. What’s the sense in both our lives being ruined by what happened? Andrew is making a difference out there and I’m proud of him.
Esme: What does he do?
Simone: He works with young adults with learning disabilities and complex needs. I see my compassionate side in him. I’d much rather his efforts go into making other people’s lives better. Better than moping around here constantly… like Peter does.
Esme: Is Andrew in touch with Peter?
Simone: Let’s just say there’s no love lost on either side. Peter likes his own way and he likes to be top dog. Andrew’s young with his whole life ahead of him, he’s not a child anymore, has his own opinions. He isn’t interested in Peter’s power games and I’m glad of that. I couldn’t rest, stuck in here, if I thought Peter was controlling him. I’ll get a message to Andrew about speaking to you, but can I ask a favour of you first?
Esme: Course!
Simone: Don’t antagonise my brother. Don’t mention Andrew or ask Peter to talk about him.
Esme: But why, if he—
Simone: Peter gets annoyed and then everybody’s life gets harder. Please, just keep the status quo. That’s all I’m asking.
Esme: I’m understand. I’ve got some questions I’ve prepared, just let me get the paperwork. I’ll be recording the session as usual and, as agreed, I’ll provide you with a full transcript after each of our sessions.
Simone: Fine. But before we begin, tell me a bit about yourself, Esme.
Esme: Me? Well, I started out as a journalist for—
Simone: No, no. About you, not your career. Your background, your family. Sorry… your face… have I made you uncomfortable?
Esme: No, not at all! Let’s see… I’m thirty-four and I’ve been married to my husband, Owen, for eleven years. We’ve got a son, Zachary, who’s nine. I grew up in Nottinghamshire and I have a younger sister, Michelle, who works with me at The Speaking Fox.
Simone: Your parents?
Esme: Both gone. My mum died when I was in my early twenties and Dad died when I was still at school. Bo
th had heart trouble.
Simone: That’s sad, I’m sorry. Are you and your sister close?
Esme: Very close, yes. She’s involved in the business, too.
Simone: And your son… you just have the one child?
Esme: Yes. He’s the light of my life. He was involved in a hit-and-run accident eighteen months ago and he faces a lot of challenges because of that. He inspires me every day.
Now, I’d better not talk about him anymore or I’ll start snivelling and I need to keep my mind on our interview.
Simone: OK, I see I haven’t penetrated the journalist’s shell yet! But that’s OK, we have lots of time.
Esme: I’d like us to start, if possible, with a brief potted history of your childhood, where you grew up. Your parents, your siblings.
Simone: As brief as your own? I’m only teasing! Now, let’s see…
Esme: Maybe a good place to begin is with your parents. What was your relationship with them like?
Simone: If you’d asked me that a couple of years ago, I’d have said I had a pretty regular upbringing, but now…
Esme: Now you don’t feel that way?