Had this hearing been a Full Appeal, as we had been led to believe, then we could have still gone to the Supreme Court if we failed. In the Judge making this another Permission Hearing, failure would leave us with nowhere to go but the European Court, where the success rate is miniscule in Family Law Cases - a figure as low as three percent even get as far as a hearing, that is if they haven't had their case thrown out on initial application, which from those I now knew who had tried it, had always been the case.
It was only by chance that I had found out that the Hearing was only for Permission. I would have remained under the false impression that I was facing a Full Appeal that February, had I not rung the Court to arrange for a CD player for my recording of the phone call, to be made available and had been put through to the Case Manager for our Appeal. I had referred to my case as a Full Appeal and she had corrected me. I thought she must have made a mistake but she had checked it and told me it was confirmed by the Judges themselves.
R would have his say at this hearing, if he wanted it, but my real opposition, as it had been in the Family Court, was the Guardian.
Now that I knew this, I was even more certain that they had been brought in to undermine my Appeal points and I repeatedly voice this concern to Christopher. In his usual manner, he was undeterred and thought I was seeing shadows where there were none.
He had perused the lengthy Skeleton put into evidence by the Guardian's barrister which was, as usual mostly assumption and assertion without evidence or precedent and felt we had little to worry about.
Peter shared Christopher's view. The Skeleton had even been prepared by the solicitor, rather than the barrister and was signed by her. The substance of her argument was that the Judge had treated me fairly and given me every opportunity to make my case, whilst giving no examples whatsoever of how she had done this. Given that the solicitor had not been in attendance at the Family Court hearing, how could she possibly make such a statement? Peter was confident that the Judge would see this and any attempt to sabotage my efforts would be undermined by this point alone. I wished I could share the optimism of the two people advising me, but Ron's chilling prophesy was very much at the fore in my mind and even had it not been, I had yet to experience anything that came close to a fair hearing since the proceedings had begun.
Given that the solicitor had failed to undermine any of my Appeal points in any substantive way, Peter and his girlfriend were both confident that I had a very strong case and that the threat by Cafcass Legal was not to be feared. Peter's view was that having not adequately addressed any of my points that this would work against them. Their case was based on the opinion of a woman who had not witnessed any of the proceedings. Furthermore as they were deemed to be neutral by the Court, for a solicitor to make such a statement was wholly inappropriate - it was tantamount to being a witness and giving evidence and that was not the role of a lawyer - especially one who was reporting the views second-hand from the barrister, who was conveniently on holiday for the weeks leading up to the hearing.
With all of this in our favour, I began to again feel some modicum of hope of success. Buoyed on by Christopher and the confidence of Sarah and Peter, I tried to adopt a more positive attitude. In fact the only challenge to what was by contrast, our well-evidenced case, was that the lawyer simply held that we had been fairly treated and said this in response to each of my points, pretty much regardless what the point was.
As far as R was concerned he wrote a statement that was a diatribe of vitriol and stated a clear wish to have me cut out for six years instead of four. Again this should have been a gift to me, because usually vitriolic aggressive rambling, unsubstantiated, would have angered the judges and made them more inclined to favour my academic approach.
I tried desperately to cling to the reassurances of the three people supporting me in my endeavours and their far greater experience as a way to face the firing squad, but the niggling doubt of the little monster inside me, gnawed at my insides day and night, whilst the voice in my head said “hope for the best, but prepare for the worst.” I realised with growing dread, that my gut instinct had never before let me down.
Chapter 19
Falling Down
We arrived at Court in good time. This time there was myself and my father and the same couple who had been at the earlier hearing with Christopher, who he had asked to sit in and report back to him.
He himself had a family vacation planned with his children and grandchildren. He was still of the opinion, spurred on by our earlier hearing that everything would at last go our way. He was with me in spirit and he would not have been able to do any more than sit next to me in the Court room anyway. One of his friends would do this on his behalf. Instead he lent his support via email and phone and I would face the three Judges with a kindly retired teacher at my side.
Dad was seated at the back of the Court and Sarah and Peter's father had both come along for added moral support. Sarah had offered to take a note of proceedings to report back to Peter after the event - should there be any further work to do.
A friend who had also lost her children and whom I knew from the network of mothers who supported each other was also there and Christopher who knew Booker from the Telegraph very well, had arranged for a reporter to sit in. We met him briefly before-hand as this was Open Court and there was no reason for the press not to sit in or report on proceedings. The only bar would be if the Judges made one and that was at their discretion.
The barrister for Cafcass Legal was not at all happy to see a group of people there to support me and asked me to provide their names and say who they were. I refused politely saying that there was no obligation whatsoever upon me to do this, unless the Court themselves wanted it. In fact, nervous as I was about the task ahead of me and the amount that rested on it, I was tempted to offer some choice words of resistance. Sarah, being within the profession, was less-inclined for me to object and felt it was better to just give the names of those in attendance and be done with it. I took her advice, but I am not sure I really agreed with it. Having said this, it had no bearing on the hearing itself, only my feelings of misgiving as I was loathe to make any concession to those who were trying to cut me out of my son's life forever.
R was sitting openly with the Guardian and his barrister and they made pretence about the fact that they were now a united front. There wasn't the slightest attempt any more for them to appear neutral. The barrister was supposed to be M's representative in Court but to all intents and purposes, she was acting for R.
We were called in relatively quickly. The hearing was set down for an hour and I would be the first to present my case, given that it was my Appeal.
The Judges filed in slowly. They were all in their dotage it seemed and I wondered if this would make them more or less sympathetic to me. Three men in declining years - including the Judge who had sat on my first hearing and who I was hoping would retain some of the fairness he had shown in his first Judgment. Whilst his reputation was to favour fathers in the main and to be one of the harsher Judges, this had certainly not been my experience of him the first time I had gone before him.
The fact this was a second Permission Hearing was now reiterated and we could be in no doubt anymore that this was only the first step - one we had already taken, it seemed rather unfairly, that we must now repeat.
The Senior Judge outlined his expectations of those present and made no Order or attempt to veto those sitting in the back, nor were they asked to identify themselves. He placed no injunction on the proceedings whatsoever so technically anyone in the Court would be at liberty in the future to report on what happened.
The Judge explained that he would again ask me to read out my Appeal points but this time I should flesh them out a little further. He told me that I must do this quickly and succinctly, that he had already read my evidence in its entirety and that there must be sufficient time left for both the Cafcass barrister and R to respond. Again this was unprecedented. Had t
his been a full Appeal it would have been perfectly usual for the other parties to give evidence. The fact that this was a Permission Hearing meant that it was being run as a full Appeal without being so. It was bizarre in the extreme.
I stood up and began to read out as clearly and concisely as I could, the main points of our Appeal, cross-referencing each one with my transcript references, relevant quotes and precedents. I also established that at least one of the Judges had listened to the recording of M crying down the phone begging to see me and I had brought his recent cards with me for them to peruse which they took a moment to do, smiling at me as they read his words of devotion and love and encouraging me to believe that hope was on the horizon and that we were only an hour away from the end of our now six year long nightmare.
When I at last reached the end of my presentation, the most senior Judge again commended me on a professional and polished performance and I sat down with relief, any doubts I had had now firmly dispelled and convinced that before too long, I would be hearing the words my heart and soul cried out for, that I would soon see again, my beloved M.
I stared with renewed excitement and anticipation at the bench from where all the Judges were smiling and nodding as the Senior Judge said that I was well-prepared, articulate and had delivered everything exactly according to his wishes. I no longer feared what the Cafcass barrister or even R might add. I knew with every fibre of my being that I could not have done more than I had. They had seen my large bundle of evidence, they had listened to the only live recording available of my son and they had clearly been impressed by his loving words on the two cards I had put before them. I was home and dry. I only had to endure the short ramblings of the barrister before I would be granted leave to see my beloved M, which they would have to concede to, before granting my full Appeal. Nothing else made sense. These were three of the most respected Judges in the land. Reason, logic and the law must now prevail.
I sat down and held my breath and waited for what I now saw as a formality, the Senior Judge to invite Cafcass to respond, but much to my surprise, he stood up, as did the other Judges and stated that he was now going out to consider his Judgment. Perhaps I had done even better than I intended as he no longer needed to hear from the barrister or R. He had seen their evidence and saw it for the weak and hostile rant that it had been. My moment of reconciliation was closer than I thought. In minutes I would hear the news that I had waited six years to hear. My son was no longer gone - he was about to come back to me, if only for short contacts for the time being, but it was manna from heaven to me.
I was, of course a little bemused having stated clearly at the onset that he would hear from the two other parties and had come fully prepared with questions for cross, but they would not go to waste, a full Appeal which much be granted any minute would give me the opportunity to discredit all the lies that had gone before.
I momentarily glanced behind me at my band of supporters who were all beaming. They believed as I did, that we were moments away from success. There was an air of excitement that was palpable exuding from all those who were willing me to win. The people who had stood beside me through our hell were about to be rewarded with the only news they sought to hear.
The Judges came back after only ten minutes deliberation. There could have been no time to write anything more than a few lines or notes. Yet the Senior Judge placed before him what appeared from what I could see, seemed to be several pages of a handwritten Judgment that in his slow and deliberate manner, would take nearly thirty minutes to deliver.
My heart was beating so rapidly and loudly I thought everyone must hear it. I held my breath as he began to deliver his Judgment.
I listened with horror as with every word the Senior Judge, the same Judge who had described Justice S's Judgement as too harsh, reiterated the same sentiments in various different ways, that he agreed with Cafcass Legal and proclaimed that on every point I had had a fair hearing, accepting entirely the opinion of a woman who had not even been in the Court at the time of the Family Court Hearing.
Chapter 20
The big C- Catastrophe
I felt my knees weakening and my legs threatening to go from under me, as I gripped onto the rostrum in front of me where half an hour earlier I had delivered my final plea to save M's life and mine.
Tears coursed down my cheeks and I could not speak to anyone as I staggered blindly out of the court room. Sarah came after me and stopped me on the stairs. I spun round. "What now?" I managed to splutter out, as I sought desperately for some words of reassurance that we still had somewhere to go.
"I'm sorry Charlotte. It's over. That's it."
"It can't be. There has to be something. There has to be."
"There isn't anything you can do." She said, looking pale and overwrought and deeply emotional herself.
"What about the Supreme Court?"
"Not without a Full Appeal and that was only a Permission Hearing." "You just have to live with it." She added quietly. "Get on with your life."
"I can't. I don't want to." I sobbed, my heart bursting through my chest, about to explode with grief and shock.
"You have no choice." She put her arms around me as I clutched to the hand rail, about to fall to the floor.
I ran out of the building and rang Christopher to break the news. Through gulping sobs, I managed to tell him what had happened. He was amazed. He had been so certain that we would soon be celebrating another victory and the fact that we had had such a positive first hearing made this even harder to swallow.
I joined my father and my group of supporters in the bar next to the Court. Dad ordered me a brandy and coke to help with the shock. He had tears in his eyes and his face was red with anger. The others were ordering food and he urged me to eat something but I could not have swallowed a single bite. I could neither eat nor drink. All I could say over and over was "This can't be true."
We had all forgotten the presence of the young reporter in Court. He suddenly appeared. He wanted to discuss the case with me. Sarah thought it was best not to talk to him but he already had a full note of the hearing there was nothing to add anyway. He commiserated with us and said he would be feeding it back to the Telegraph for Booker's column, leaving soon afterwards.
Two days later I heard that the Telegraph had sacked him. I never found out why. Nor did one word of what happened that day ever appear in any paper.
As I look back from my empty and agonising life, over the last eight years, I see a long line of experts, M's form teacher, some social workers, contact centre staff, doctors and friends who knew us, who have all spoken out against the injustice of what happened to M and I and without exception. Every single one of them has vanished either from their jobs or from our lives in one way or another.
When catastrophe hits in such a massive and devastating fashion, all you are left with is a void - a chasm so deep that you may disappear into it and never be seen again. The question now was, would I be one of those fatal casualties who disappeared without trace?
Afterword
So now you have read the story of M and I, such as it is. Our truth shared from a place of the deepest love I have for my beautiful boy.
Will I go to prison for giving a voice to the pain we endure every day, along with mothers everywhere in Britain today?
There is, of course, that possibility.
Will M ever read this in the future and know how much Mummy still loves him and always will?
Perhaps.
Will it have been worth it? That is up to you.
Mothers in this country are suffering the daily anguish and bereavement of losing their beautiful children. We need your help to get a voice for the children who suffer as we do.
Please spread the word, share the book on your Facebook pages, Twitter and any other way you can and let us hold hands across the world and stop the needless suffering of our innocent little angels.
As you tuck your child into bed tonight and read him his bedtime story,
please think of Charlotte and the many other mothers out there who would give everything they have to be able to do what you are doing right now.
They may never be able to hold their children in their arms again, but if we can be heard, then the miracle of change can happen.
If you wish to contact me, you can do so through my Facebook page - Jeanne D'Olivier. For legal reasons I cannot provide any other means but I would love to hear your thoughts.
This is not a work of literature or a commercial enterprise. This is simply a testament of love. Please be gentle with what you say, as negative reviews are very damaging to all those who have so kindly let me share our fate with you and I ask that if, for whatever reason, this book does not touch you, that you stay silent, so that our voices can be heard by those who can help us and for the sake of our innocent children who need to know that Mummy is still here.
With grateful thanks and love for listening and on behalf of us all.
Jeanne D'Oliver
To My beloved son
I love you the world and back
and I am still here.
Mummy
xxx
Suggested Reading
Mummy where Are You? Jeanne D'Olivier
Endeavour Press 2013
Don't Cry Aloud Denise Robertson
Hopcyn Press 2015
Mummy's Still Here Page 22