The original plan was for Paul to come with me every day. Paul and I had taken two weeks’ holiday leave and his mum had kindly said she would move in and look after Alfie and Lilly for the duration of the trial. We wanted the situation at home to be as normal as possible for the little ones.
Various friends and family members had asked if they could go along and sit in the public gallery. To be quite honest, I didn’t know if it was a good idea or not – I wasn’t really functioning properly at the time – but I was very grateful that they wanted to be there for me. I feel incredibly lucky to have had such a great support network while living through this nightmare.
Poor Lilly had a terrible night on the Sunday and woke up with a raging temperature. Added to that, Paul’s mum was also feeling poorly, so I was torn between staying at home to look after my youngest daughter or going to court to support my eldest one. After much agonising, Paul and I decided that he would stay at home with Lilly and I would drive myself to court. Mum and Charlotte offered to take me, but I thought the 20-minute drive on my own might help me mentally prepare for the fortnight to come. I drove there in silence, trying to get my head around what was in store.
I got to Lewes, parked in a car park a little way from the court and met up with my friends Chloe, Darcee and Sarah. There was a really solemn atmosphere; we were all so nervous about what lay ahead. Sarah tried to reassure me that there was nothing for me to be anxious about – the first day was really just a formality, she explained, with the jury being sworn in and the prosecution presenting their case and so on – but it didn’t take away from the fact that we were all so freaked out by the whole experience. We went for a coffee and tried to keep our spirits up, but the silent moments told the real story.
Lewes Crown Court is at the top of a hill, and when we finished our coffees we walked up the hill, laughing about how steep it was. When we reached the top, we saw that there was a crowd of photographers and reporters waiting outside the court and a number of camera crews had set up pitches across the road, and the nerves took over again. As we took in the scene, we wondered how the hell we were going to get into the building without being mobbed by reporters.
We decided to just march straight up there and through the banks of photographers. As soon as we approached them, that dreaded click-click-click-click-click noise fired off from every direction as they craned to get pictures of anyone who was going into the court. It was so frightening.
Once inside, we were helped through the security checks and directed upstairs into the witness services area, where we met a very nice lady who had been assigned to look after us for the duration of the case. Then chief inspector for child protection Mark Ling and DI Neil Ralph came in to check that I was OK, and reiterated to me that I wouldn’t be able to go into the courtroom or be told about any of the proceedings until after I had given my evidence. They looked as nervous as me, but then I suppose it was a big deal for all of us: we all wanted everything to go smoothly.
Next the prosecution barrister, Richard Barton, came to see us and he went through the running order of witnesses. Gemma was due to appear tomorrow, after which it would be my turn, followed by Forrest’s wife Emily, Gemma’s teachers and other kids from her school. He warned me that the running order would be subject to change, depending on how events unfolded.
There were some smaller witness rooms off to the side of where we were waiting and in the main room there was a small TV screen displaying a list of the cases that were being heard that day. I read through the list and there it was: Court 2, Jeremy Ayre Forrest, 10am.
I couldn’t take my eyes off it. There was the name of the man who we first knew as Mr Forrest the teacher, then as Jeremy Forrest the abductor and, finally, as Jeremy Ayre Forrest, the accused.
I was already aware that Forrest called himself Jeremy Ayre when he performed as a musician and had used the name on social media sites like Twitter, but I didn’t realise until that moment that Ayre was his middle name. It is hard to describe how I was feeling as I saw those words on the screen. I was trying to reconcile how three words could add up to so much destruction. It was only then that I really began to understand what we were about to go through. I felt physically sick.
An announcement came over the PA system: ‘All parties in the case of Jeremy Ayre Forrest, please go to court number two’. Suddenly, it was all happening.
Chloe went into the courtroom with Mum and Charlotte, while Darcee and I settled in the witness area for what was to be an interminable wait. We talked about everything and anything, stupid things to try and make the time go quickly, and chatted with the witness services people. Time seemed to hardly move at all. I kept guiltily thinking about my poor baby Lilly and I felt bad that I wasn’t at home looking after her. Truth be told, though, she was probably better off being with Paul that day; my nerves were in tatters.
At around midday, the judge, Michael Lawson, QC, adjourned the session for an hour’s lunch break and Chloe popped up to see us. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t dying to ask her what had been going on, but I knew how important it was that I wasn’t told anything at all about the case. All I was allowed to know was that a jury of eight men and four women had been sworn in and that the judge had made his opening statement.
We met up with Mum and my sister Charlotte and went off in search of somewhere away from all the madness of the court and the photographers and press to have lunch. We found a lovely 1950s-style tearoom called Lewesiana, which is where we subsequently went every single day of the case. It was our safe haven.
In a way, I remember thinking at the time it was strange that we were all so worried about the trial – after all, surely there could be no shadow of a doubt that Forrest was guilty of abduction? Gemma and Forrest had been seen boarding the ferry and I knew for sure that I hadn’t given him permission to take my daughter away, so the evidence was cut and dried. Whereas previously I had wondered if I might somehow have given him permission by mistake, I was now in a completely different headspace.
I knew for certain that I hadn’t; I knew for certain that Forrest was guilty. And yet, even with that knowledge, what scared me was the unknown. He had kept saying, ‘The truth will come out’, and I was living on my nerves, wondering what the hell he meant when he said that.
I didn’t feel like eating and was fretting about Lilly; I’d been in touch with Paul and my baby wasn’t feeling any better. But the thing most heavily playing on my mind was the thought of Gemma having to give evidence the next day. I cannot believe any parent would be happy with their child having to do that; the idea of her facing a barrage of questions was just unbearable. I would have made it all stop right there and then if I could, but I couldn’t. It was all out of my hands.
Back at the court for the afternoon session, Darcee and I watched people coming in and out of the witness services rooms. To pass the time, we tried to guess what they might be there for. I knew that I wasn’t serving any useful purpose being there, but I wanted to be on hand in case there was anything I could help with. I couldn’t bear to be anywhere else.
The afternoon session finished at 4pm and we briefly met up again with Mark Ling and Neil Ralph. They reassured me that the afternoon session had gone exactly as planned and told me that Richard Barton had given the opening statement for the prosecution. I knew the gist of what he would have said; it was the defence statement that was totally unknown territory. Maybe then we would finally find out what Forrest meant when he said, ‘The truth will come out.’
Back home afterwards, Lilly looked worse than when I’d left her, so I whisked her off to the GP, who informed me that my baby had tonsillitis. I felt so guilty for not having been there for her.
I had sent a couple of texts to update everyone on what was going on, but obviously I didn’t have much to tell. As far as actual facts were concerned, all the press could actually report at this point was that the trial had begun, but I knew that they would be stirring up all kinds of stuff about Gemma havin
g bulimia and self-harm issues over the next few days. But I didn’t care. I wasn’t going to read any of it, I wasn’t interested in anyone else’s take on what was going on; for me the important thing was to support my family. However, I wanted Gemma to read every single piece of evidence that was coming out about him so that she could understand what kind of man he was.
Today had been nothing, I knew there was much worse to come.
The next day Gemma would give evidence. We still weren’t on speaking terms, but I sent her a text: ‘I’ll be thinking of you tomorrow. If you need me, I’ll be there. I love you’. Once again, though, I didn’t hear back from her.
Later that evening, Neil Ralph called to confirm with me where Gemma would be the next morning. She was going to be sitting a maths exam at a nearby school first thing, and the plan was for our family liaison officer Hannah and Max to meet her there afterwards and bring her to court. There was still no guarantee that she would go willingly, but I had to trust her to do the right thing.
CHAPTER 31
DAY 2: TUESDAY, 11 JUNE
After a terrible night’s sleep, I got up extra-early. It was Lilly’s first birthday and we made a big fuss of her with lots of presents. I had hoped to throw a party for her, but I cancelled it once the trial was confirmed. I know she didn’t have a clue what was going on and we could have actually celebrated her birthday any day of the year, but it was a big deal for Paul and me. We had planned to have a bouncy castle in the garden and had been looking forward to everyone having a fun day.
Instead, there she was, feeling so poorly and looking sorrowfully at her presents. I wished I could have split myself in two that day. I left the house feeling full of guilt and sad that there was another moment in my children’s life that I would never get back again.
Driving to Lewes, I was a trembling wreck. As I approached the town, a news report came on the radio –‘Today, the schoolgirl, who we cannot name for legal reasons, is due to give evidence in court in the trial which …’ – which only made me feel worse. I immediately switched it off. It felt almost too real to hear it being talked about so publicly. I kept saying to myself over and over again: ‘Gemma, sweetheart, please come to court, please come to court …’
I felt sick with worry about how she must be thinking. How on earth was she meant to get through her exam, knowing she would have to go straight to court once she had finished? She had been adamant that she wasn’t going to go, but she must have known in her heart that there was no getting away from it. I was scared that she would walk out of the exam, see Max and Hannah waiting for her and try to run away.
I arrived at the car park in Lewes and met up with Chloe, Darcee and Sarah, and they each gave me a reassuring hug. We didn’t need to say anything, we all knew that day was going to be a totally different ball game to the previous one.
After a coffee, the walk up the hill and the barrage of the press, we were taken upstairs to the witness services area. This time, though, instead of being taken into the main room, we were led to a side room.
Mark Ling came to see me to check if I was OK and informed me that Gemma had been brought to court and was now sitting in a room two doors up from us. He explained that she would be appearing via a videolink from the witness room, rather than being in the courtroom in person. A court usher would be sitting with her throughout.
It was heartbreaking knowing that she was so close by and not being allowed to go in and see her. If I could have run in and whisked her away, I wouldn’t have hesitated; I was so scared for her. All I could think about was what Forrest was putting her through.
I asked the woman who was looking after us in witness services to let Gemma know that I was only two doors away and was there for her if she needed me at all. Everyone knew that she wasn’t speaking to me. Max was waiting with her until the session started, but Mark Ling and Neil Ralph reassured me that she was fine.
No matter what anyone said to me, I was feeling like a nervous wreck, and even worse when I heard the dreaded PA announcement. ‘All parties in the case of Jeremy Ayre Forrest, please go to court number two’. I could virtually see my heart beating.
With Chloe back downstairs, sitting in the public gallery, Darcee and I got ready for more clock-watching and thumb twiddling. I’d been told that the day would begin with the defence opening statement, after which Gemma would appear via videolink.
After about an hour, Chloe came back to see us. The session had been delayed, as Judge Michael Lawson, QC wanted to speak to Gemma before the cameras were switched on for her to appear via videolink. It gave me great comfort to know how well she was being looked after.
What Chloe told me next came as a surprise. Gemma had asked for the courtroom to be cleared, as she didn’t want Mum, Charlotte or Chloe to be there. She seemed to be fine about other people being in the public gallery – including Forrest’s parents – and I wondered if it might have been because she didn’t want her nan to hear intimate details of her relationship with Forrest.
I didn’t have a clue how Gemma would have known that she could request to have the courtroom cleared. Mum was really upset about it. To her, it underlined how badly their relationship had fallen apart. It was so sad; the two of them used to be so close. Chloe tried to reassure Mum that it was probably just because she was embarrassed about the whole thing, but she was heartbroken.
Gemma didn’t know Darcee well, and so we decided that she would sit in the public gallery for the afternoon session and keep taking notes for me to read after I had given my evidence. Chloe would wait with me outside the courtroom, while Mum and Charlotte went home.
Whether she liked it or not, Gemma couldn’t ask for Sarah, our family social worker, to leave the courtroom. She had initially cooperated with Sarah, but their relationship had deteriorated when she refused to condone her relationship with Forrest or accept it as the great love story that Gemma believed it to be.
Sarah had spent so much time with our family and had seen firsthand how much it had emotionally devastated us. She constantly reassured me that I was doing the right thing and told me that she understood how I felt. Gemma had been molested by a sex offender, and I was struggling to accept it. Even writing those words now makes me feel like the worst mother in the world.
While Sarah had become a lifeline for me, Gemma believed that she was on ‘the other side’ and wasn’t looking out for her at all. Despite everything, though, Sarah and her team never once stopped providing support to Gemma.
Back at court in the afternoon, I saw Forrest’s mum and sister waiting to go in the courtroom. His mother and I looked at each other and we shared a kind of half-smile – it was a look that said, ‘I know what you are going through’.
I knew that she was suffering as much anxiety and stress as I was. Whatever he had done, Jeremy Forrest was still the son she had given birth to. Obviously, it wasn’t like we were about to introduce ourselves and bond over the situation we were in, it was just an unspoken look that said we shared so much.
Darcee went into the courtroom in the afternoon while Chloe and I waited outside.
Later than usual, as there had been a number of breaks while the judge spoke to Gemma, the court session ended for the day. Again, I understood that I couldn’t know the exact details of what was going on, but Darcee told us the format of the afternoon. The court had been shown video footage of the long interview Gemma had given at the police house in Hailsham on Wednesday, 3 October, a week after her return from France. Meanwhile, in a corner of the screen, Gemma’s live reaction from the nearby witness room was shown.
I was confident that I knew exactly what had been discussed during that interview, so that was one less thing for me to worry about. Gemma had confided in me about what she had talked about with the police, so for once I didn’t have that desperate need to know what was going on.
Later I learned that the court was told how the relationship between Gemma and Forrest had started – how she had started following Forrest on Twitt
er before she went on the half-term school trip to Los Angeles in February 2012, how he had covered for her so that she wouldn’t get punished for swimming in the hotel pool without permission, and how she had held hands with him on the flight home.
The court also heard how she had asked a friend to get his mobile number and they had begun texting one another, how they had kissed each other for the first time in a classroom, and how things got more serious after that. Forrest had apparently sent her a text message which read: ‘We can wait until you are 16, but I really want to have intimacy in our relationship’.
Darcee was visibly upset about what she had heard. She has children and grandchildren of her own, so I knew that she would have put herself in my shoes as she listened to the evidence.
Of course, at the time she couldn’t tell me what had happened, or how Gemma had been reacting as she was watching the video footage of the interviews, but I was later to find out that Gemma had been really upset.
Totally drained, I went back home and joined Paul and the family. Even though I hadn’t actually even been in the courtroom, I felt emotionally exhausted. I took a coffee out to the garden and sat on the swing seat. The next thing I knew, I woke up in a daze and it was 8pm. I had only gone out to clear my mind for five minutes, but I had obviously needed longer to process everything that was happening.
CHAPTER 32
DAY 3: WEDNESDAY, 12 JUNE
Come the next morning, Lilly was still feeling poorly and Paul’s mum wasn’t yet 100 per cent, so once again we agreed that Paul would stay at home.
I had begun to dread that long, slow walk up the hill from the car park – it was like the green mile. I knew the reporters and photographers would be waiting for me when I reached the top. Having spent five minutes composing myself, I walked towards the court with a grim determination and followed Forrest’s family, who had arrived just before me.
The Runaway Schoolgirl Page 13