‘Last tape, apart from the one you’ve seen in closed court. May I proceed, My Lady?’ Ms Little asks the judge.
She nods her head. ‘Of course.’
This tape shows Sebastian and I walking into the coffee area. He puts his hand on my bottom. My fingers whisk his hand away.
‘Mr Templeton, is this another one-off?’
‘Ms Little, the jury will have to make their own conclusions. I have nothing to say.’
‘Finally Mr Templeton, there is a tape of you and Ms Miranda Cunningham making love.’
My heart stops.
Ms Little continues, ‘You must know about it. We assume you took it. Cameras were found in the lights in the ceiling in both girls’ bedrooms. It is alleged that you filmed Miranda so that you could compromise her. You sent the recording to us – to embarrass Miranda. We have shown it to the judge and the jury in closed session. Was this a time when you considered that you were being forced? Or was it all because of the MDMA? We have had the tapes examined very carefully. According to our expert, you appear too energised to be on MDMA. I refer the court to page seven of the second bundle.’
At the end of the session, I am taken, as usual, straight to meet Theo. I am so exhausted. I feel as if I have just been dragged through an assault course. My shoulders and muscles ache. Theo is there first. He has taken his wig and robes off when I arrive, and is running his fingers through his gown to smooth the creases out. As soon as he sees me he smiles.
‘Are you OK?’ he asks, as I sit down opposite him as usual.
‘Of course not,’ I reply, trying not to burst into tears. ‘It’s so frightening listening to such a strange contortion of the truth. I felt so helpless sitting there.’
He reaches across the table and takes my hand. ‘It went swimmingly though. Ms Little really caught him out.’ He pauses. ‘And we’ll soon get our turn to push back. You’ll come across well.’ He squeezes my hand. ‘Really well.’
‘But …’ I splutter, ‘he’s lied about so much, can anything he’s ever said be believed?’
His amber eyes melt into mine. ‘His lying is serious. He’s an unreliable witness.’ He pauses. ‘But Miranda. I’m onto him. Big time.’
I look at Theo and wish I could ask him to hold me. Just for a minute. I wish I could place my head on his chest and feel his warmth.
135
Sebastian
Ms Little is a real bitch.
She thinks she’s so clever, almost catching me out, but all she is, is an overeducated, cardboard cut-out of a woman, who’s never experienced real life. Her voice is so moderated, it sounds as if she has a large stone in her mouth. You know the sort of thing: lips hardly move when she speaks. I expect it’s missionary position, eyes closed, if she ever condescends to fuck. She’s the sort of woman who thinks she’s pretty, but is best viewed from a distance. Teeth, hair and make-up. No real looks.
And the legal system’s a bitch.
Everyone who’s familiar with it always says that. How dare she infer I was lying? I’ll sue her for defamation of my character, as soon as this case is over. I’ll discuss it with Early-Smith. Not believing me about how much Miranda was coming on to me? Miranda has been a flirt and a minx right from the moment I met her, sidling up too close to me on the sofa. Contriving to arrange to meet. How dare she infer I’m a pervert because I had a camera in the bedroom? Lots of people like to watch replays of themselves having sex.
But Miranda is the biggest bitch. Killing my soul twin. The only thing that’s keeping me going right now is thinking about what’s going to happen to her. She’ll go down for life. She’ll never get out of prison. Ms Little won’t win. If the police don’t get enough evidence against her I will. I will catch her client out. Jude, I’ll follow her everywhere at the courthouse, double-check her every move.
I have already made my own crime board on the kitchen wall at home, based on every piece of press coverage I can get my hands on. I will document every person she talks to in or around court. When her transport van arrives, and when it leaves. How long she spends in the lavatory. I will note every minute she spends with her barrister, and with her QC. Theo Gregson has the hots for her. I know from the way I saw him looking at her at my beloved’s funeral. He must be an idiot. Can’t he see that she’s a cold-blooded murderer? It really made me sick when I saw her at Zara’s funeral, pretending to look upset. She’s murdered the woman I love.
She doesn’t deserve to exist.
136
‘And now today,’ Theo tells me, ‘it’s our turn to defend. This is when the case will really get going. When you’ll really come into your own.’
We are standing by the table in one of the court meeting rooms. He leans towards me. I lean towards him a little. I would so like him to hold me in his arms. Just for a few seconds for reassurance. Our lips almost meet. He looks embarrassed and pulls away.
‘Sorry,’ he says, stepping back. ‘Invaded your personal space.’
We remain standing by the grey plastic table a little longer. He really is too good-looking to be a barrister. Why has he chosen such a depressing career? Slowly, slowly, he moves away and sits on the other side of the table as usual. I sit opposite him.
‘We need to talk about today in court,’ he says, adjusting his wig.
‘OK. Fire away.’
‘As you know Ms Little is putting you on the stand today. She will ask you a few questions and then the prosecution will cross-examine you. It won’t be easy.’ Theo taps his fingers on the plastic table. ‘Remember we have good witnesses to call later, who will support your case. You have nothing to worry about. Whatever happens today, you must relax, take it in your stride, and tell the whole truth.’
‘Relax?’ I pause. ‘I’m not very good at that when I’m in court charged with murder.’
‘Maybe that’s not quite the right word. Maybe I should have said that whatever happens today I know you will cope. I know you’ll get through it.’
Honey eyes melt into mine, and I wish I had met him in another life.
137
Theo has escorted me to the dock. I am sitting trying to numb myself to the situation by pretending I am not here. Trying to remember the feeling of air on my face as I walk in the countryside, inhaling the scent of freshly mown grass. Trying to remember the distant sharpness of the stars shining down from another universe. Trying to remember the sight of a sunset, a dozen shades of orange melting slowly into the horizon. Trying not to watch court society beginning to gather. Lawyers. Clerks. Press; trying not to imagine what they might be writing and saying about me. Members of the public with nothing better to do. Pretending not to see Mother arriving, looking bereft. Forcing myself not to stiffen as I see Sebastian taking the seat behind her.
I was hoping he wasn’t going to come and watch the trial after giving his evidence. I was hoping he was going straight back to his new life in another country. Just looking at the back of his head makes my jawline go tense and a headache start to throb at my temples.
The judge arrives. She looks a little flustered today as if she’s been rushing. It’s difficult to imagine that she lives a life outside her professional one. Flustered makes her look more normal. More like the rest of us. We stand and bow, and she calls for the jury, who arrive in their usual lumbering, semi-disinterested fashion. I want to shake them. I want to shout at them. This is my life. What happens in here really, really matters.
Ms Little QC stands. Polished and painted. Botoxed and airbrushed.
‘We call the defendant, Miranda Cunningham.’
What I have dreaded for so long is happening now. The guard sitting next to me is opening the locked door of the dock. The court clerk is walking towards me to take me to the witness box. I am stepping into the court. The air in the court feels different to the air in the dock. Heavier somehow. I hear my footsteps resonating on the ground as I walk. I feel the eyes of the court on my back. I step into the witness box, raise my head, and try to smile, but my lips don
’t move.
The clerk hands me a Bible and asks me to repeat after him, the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth spiel. I feel hot. My hands are trembling. I look across at Theo. He nods his head encouragingly. I repeat slowly and carefully. I manage it.
‘Did you have sexual relations with Sebastian Templeton?’ Ms Little asks gently.
A stone rotates in my stomach, heavy as lead. I take a deep breath. I exhale slowly. ‘Yes.’ My voice ricochets around the court, thin and stretched.
‘How many times?’
My heart is racing. I inhale and exhale slowly to try and calm myself. I take too long to reply.
‘Answer the question, please,’ the judge pushes.
‘Twice.’
‘Can you run me through what happened?’ Ms Little asks, concern brimming in her eyes.
I inhale deeply, to try and calm myself. ‘He had been coming on to me behind my sister’s back ever since I met him in October last year.’ I pause for breath. ‘He had even touched me inappropriately at work. I didn’t do anything to encourage him, until that night. I didn’t want to have a relationship with him. My sister was in love with him.’
‘Did you find him physically attractive?’
‘No.’
‘So what happened that night?’
‘We saw my sister off at the station. She was going away for the weekend. Then we went to the pub for a drink. I only had one gin and tonic. When we got home he tried to kiss me as he has done so many times before and this time I kissed him back and we ended up having intercourse.’
‘Do you know why you changed your mind? Was it possible he spiked your drink?’
‘He could have. He had the opportunity. Contrary to what he said, he went to the bar not me. I only had one glass of G&T and felt dizzy.’
‘In his witness statement he accuses you of putting MDMA in his drink. Do you think it could have been the other way round?’
‘Easily. I couldn’t have put MDMA in his drink. I don’t even know where to buy it. It was Sebastian and Zara who used to take it. Although I didn’t realise my drink had been spiked at the time, I did feel very spaced out and very strange. I think that must have been why I allowed him to have sex with me. Up until that point I didn’t even like him. I had never found him attractive.’
‘Have you ever had ecstasy, or MDMA before?’
‘Once, that’s all. I took an E at our Christmas party. I was light-headed then as well. It made me very friendly. Wanting to dance and chat with everyone.’
‘Did you feel a bit the same the night you made love to Sebastian?’
‘Well, not quite the same. The night I had sex with Sebastian I felt much more spaced out.’
‘Thank you Miranda.’ She pauses. ‘Moving on. How did you feel after you had sex with Sebastian?’
‘As soon as we had finished, I fell asleep. When I awoke in the early hours, I bitterly regretted it. I left him asleep in bed and showered. After my shower, I went back to the bedroom to fetch some clothes. I didn’t know whether I loathed myself, or him, more. I wanted to get dressed, leave the flat and get away from him. But he was awake, waiting to pounce.’
‘Waiting to pounce? What exactly do you mean?’
‘He was erect. Grinning at me. He told me he wanted to do it again. I said no. I told him very clearly that I didn’t want a relationship with him. That I had made a terrible mistake. That I didn’t want to hurt Zara and that she mustn’t find out about what had happened between us, because it would hurt her too much.’ I pause. ‘And that it would never happen again.’
Overcome by unpleasant memories, I stop speaking. I am biting my lip to push back tears.
‘Please continue, Ms Cunningham,’ the judge says softly.
‘Because I wouldn’t go with him again voluntarily, he raped me. Restrained my arms, threw me onto the bed and entered me from behind.’
‘How has what happened affected you?’
‘Very badly …’
I forget I am in court. I tell them all about how difficult I found it – at home and at work. How worried I was about hurting you, my beloved sister. How guilty I felt.
When I have finished my emotional outpouring, Ms Little smiles at me encouragingly.
‘Thank you very much, Miranda,’ she says. ‘Now let’s move on to the next topic.’
Next topic. My sister’s death. The stabbing. My sister’s dead staring eyes pushing towards me. Eyes that will never go away. They follow me every day, coming to me at odd times when I least expect them. As I clean my teeth. As I shuffle along the prison corridor to the canteen. I see them now as I stand in court, moving towards me, closer and closer. I am shaking, drenched in sweat, tears welling behind my eyes.
‘Are you all right to continue?’ I hear the judge asking somewhere in the distance of my mind.
Sebastian looks across at me, eyes burning, and a little strength builds within me, to push back, to not let him destroy me. I swallow my tears.
‘Yes,’ I reply.
We have been through this so many times. Once again, Ms Little runs through what happened with me as gently as possible, but still I relive every second, every expression on your face. The feel of the knife. Finally she says, ‘That will be all, thank you,’ and sits down.
‘Let’s take a break. Court rise.’
138
Back in the court meeting room with Theo, still drenched in sweat, still trembling after what I have been through. Theo is also perspiring. He takes his wig off and puts it on the table, and walks across the room to open the window, the full two inches it can be opened. He fetches us both some chilled water in plastic cups and sits down opposite me. The cup shakes in my hand as I take a sip.
‘You did well,’ he says, amber eyes dissolving in mine.
‘I’m not sure I can cope with Early-Smith’s cross-examination,’ I say. ‘I just can’t bear to continue to relive it.’
Amber eyes harden a little. ‘You can. You must. You will.’
‘Please Theo, I need someone to hug.’
We both stand up, and meet somewhere at the side of the table. I am so keen for physical reassurance I do not notice where I melt into him. He body is so strong, so reassuring. His energy pulsates towards me and builds within me. When he holds me against him I can cope with the world. I want to stay like this forever, but we cannot stay like this for long. All too soon, he pulls away and straightens his wig. Time to go back to court.
139
Early-Smith is ready to cross-examine me. I shudder and look down at my hands. They are trembling so much that I clasp them together and put them behind my back, hoping no one will notice. Early-Smith. Ugly. Heavy. Well educated. Condescending. I stand looking at him, trying to remind myself that I was well educated, once, in another life. Now I am a criminal. Innocent until proven guilty. But it seems like the other way round. A criminal stuck in a world I never dreamt of. A world I will never escape.
Paul Early-Smith is standing in front of me, determined to make sure of that. He clears his throat to warn everyone he is about to speak. His bulbous nose seems even more bulbous than usual. His eyes are bulging like a frog’s.
‘Do you really expect the jury to believe that you were raped, when you have only recently mentioned it?’ he says, a snarl in his mouth and in his eyes. ‘Why didn’t you report it immediately?’
‘I was traumatised and embarrassed.’
‘Do you really expect us to believe that an educated professional woman like yourself would be too afraid to speak up?’ He pauses and looks across at the jury. He adjusts his robes a little and turns back to eyeball me. ‘How exactly are you intending to prove that you were raped?’
‘I haven’t been focusing on anything lately, let alone getting proof about being raped. It has all been so awful, losing my sister.’ I swallow hard to try and stop myself from crying. ‘It was very difficult for me, Sebastian being my sister’s boyfriend, and Zara being so in love with him.’ I swallow again before I am abl
e to continue. ‘But I became so low afterwards, and had such unpleasant symptoms that Zara took me to see a doctor.’
Early-Smith and his solicitor exchange an anxious glance. They didn’t know about this. I have only had the courage to submit this evidence so recently that my written submission must only just have arrived at court.
‘Which doctor was that?’ Mr Early-Smith asks, skimming through his notes and frowning.
‘My local GP – she asked me whether I’d been raped. She said my symptoms were consistent with rape.’
Mr Early-Smith’s face closes. He doesn’t want the jury to hear any more of this.
‘Thank you, Ms Cunningham. That’s all on that subject. Let’s move on and deal with the actions that led to your sister’s death in more detail.’
In more detail. My mind feels numb. How is more detail possible? I have told Ms Little everything. The more I repeat it all, the more it haunts me, the more I want to forget. But I know I cannot. I close my eyes. Not long to go now. Not much more. I must just keep calm and soldier on.
‘Let’s start with when you got back to the flat. Were you angry with her?’
‘No, as I told Ms Little, I was looking forward to seeing her. We were texting one another, planning to go out for a movie and a pizza. It was the other way round. I didn’t realise as I headed back to the flat that she was so angry with me.’
‘Talk us through it again.’ Early-Smith smooths and flaps his robes. I look at him and I feel so tired.
‘So you came back into the flat?’ he prompts.
So very tired. My legs go weak. I lean on the stand in front of me, to support myself.
‘Yes. I came home from work,’ I reply.
He leans forwards a little, a frown rippling across his face. ‘Tell me your exact movements.’
Exact movements. What is he playing at? I have just been through all this with Ms Little.
Guilt Page 22