No time at all over the last three days to update my diary. A hectic time has ensued since I was last able to write anything at all and we have had a few more shocks since then.
My sister and niece visited us on Tuesday and stayed for a couple of hours. Our spirits were lifted somewhat as they kept us highly entertained. Father White also appeared for a time while they were here and seemed almost mesmerised by their bizarre behaviour! No sooner had they all left than we had a further two visitors, so it was rather later than usual when we finally got to bed. Despite this, I was still awake and up for most of the night. Nothing new there, then!
Wednesday morning found us as low as ever and very fearful once more. It was a free day for Ray and me but we did nothing in particular to pass the time apart from visiting the cemetery as usual. We are still keeping the flowers as nice as we can on a daily basis and will continue to do so when Rachel’s headstone is in place. It won’t be too long now.
There’s a call this evening from Ray’s sister Maureen in Ireland and, on this occasion, I speak to her first. It seems that Pat’s funeral went as well as one could hope and we discuss this and that in general. I then say that I wonder who the third person in this family will be the next to go and am shocked when Maureen says she has some bad news for us. I immediately think of Ray’s youngest sister whose husband, we know, has been unwell for some months. This young man does indeed have some serious problems, but it is not him. Ray’s brother-in-law in America is in a very bad way, at death’s door we are told, and this is certainly a great shock. He has developed an infection throughout his entire body following minor surgery and also been diagnosed with diabetes. We are dreadfully sorry to hear this and think back to happy holidays in Ireland with him and his wife over the years, as well as their visits to us in England.
We ring his office in Chicago at once and are heartened to hear that he has had his best night so far. His wife, Ray’s sister Jean, is with him, along with their four children and we can only pray that he pulls through. What more can possibly befall this family in the year of 2003?
Another very uneasy night follows this news, and neither of us gets much sleep. We know that tomorrow we are due more visitors and, in truth, we find it very wearying.
On Thursday morning, my aunt and her daughter arrive. Ray is out taking Vanda to a hospital appointment. I receive a phone call from one of our liaison officers and immediately get the jitters. I am shocked rigid when he casually tells me that the first witness to be called on the first day of the trial will be our son, John. This is the very first time that he has been mentioned and I don’t know what to think at this late stage. I am to be the second witness on the first day. The officer wanted to call round during the afternoon for a more in-depth discussion but I explain that I am expecting the TV reporter at 1.30pm and will be taping an interview for the tribute to Rachel. We arrange that two officers will now call on Monday, 13 October instead.
All manner of worries and fears are running through my mind now and I wish only that my aunt and cousin would leave so I can think things through. To sit and analyse the situation, to try and imagine why, at this late stage, they have decided to call upon John’s testimony at the trial.
I get little respite, however, since no sooner has this call ended than I receive yet another, this time from a different liaison officer. I am unsure what to make of it since, on the face of it, it is merely a courtesy call. Or is it? After some formalities, the subject turns to current media interest in the trial. I feel I am being given the gypsy’s warning – do not speak to any of them before or during the trial. This warning is unnecessary since we have kept our cards close to our chests so far and we are not about to change that now. It seems there has been press interest in showing pictures of Michael Little’s flat (the crime scene) but I am told that this will only happen with our approval. We need to discuss this as a family, along with Mark. I think it is a very sensitive issue but at this moment I personally have no objection to it.
Apparently, there is also a police video of the scene which, I am told, we can view, should we wish to do so. I am unsure about this. I don’t know if I could bring myself to look at this but maybe Vanda would wish to see it.
I am perturbed by both of these calls and know that Ray will not take the news of John’s summons well. When he returns, he sees at once that I am very uneasy and I tell him what has transpired during his absence. He is furiously angry and rages at everyone and everything, including me. He shoots me down as the messenger, but I am expecting it and so am not unduly upset. He calms himself down eventually but I am most concerned as to what he will be like come Monday when the police turn up. I imagine that he will let his feelings be known in no uncertain terms and, sadly, I cannot chicken out of that meeting. If only I could …
There is no time for any real discussion, however, as the Yorkshire Television reporter is due imminently so we must put on a front for her. I had been expecting just the one girl, Tina Gelder, to arrive for an informal chat and am therefore dismayed to see she is accompanied by a cameraman. I had imagined that, at the most, we would talk into a tape recorder about Rachel but the intention is for Ray and I to do an actual interview on camera. It seems pointless and churlish to demur but, had I known of this earlier, I could have made more of an effort with my appearance!
It is very easy to talk to Tina. She is not at all intrusive and doesn’t once mention the forthcoming court case. It is just our own thoughts and memories of Rachel that she is interested in. Ray speaks most eloquently, although, on this occasion, I don’t really have much to say. Later we go outside and are filmed near the rose garden and next to the place that I created for Rachel. It is a very poignant moment but we try not to let it upset us.
Although I am still terribly afraid that, by some quirk of fate, Michael Little walks free, I can’t imagine they would be planning to show this tribute to Rachel afterwards should there be the remotest possibility of that happening. Still, that worry is at the back of my mind and everyone else’s, I am sure.
John gets up after his night shift and prepares for work again tonight. He has to be told that he is being called as the first witness now. As I had suspected, the news does not go down well and it is hard to know if he is angry or simply afraid. Like me, he wonders why he wasn’t called from the beginning, but who knows? It could mean nothing at all, yet we can only see the negative side of things. Could there be an ulterior motive in the prosecution’s need of John at this late stage? How long have they known they would be calling him and does it mean that things are not progressing in quite the way they have led us to believe? No doubt we will find out more on Monday but, until then, our confidence is diminished even further. We are more afraid, more on edge than ever and are rapidly losing the plot.
I find that I can’t eat a thing and my nerves are so shattered that I do the unthinkable – I have a stiff drink quite early in the evening, even though I am expecting my brother Paul to arrive at any time. He is taking me to his house as I am due to have my hair done there tonight. Meanwhile, Father White arrives and, while Ray is upstairs, I give him a brief update on today’s developments. I know that he is worried and upset for us and notice, too, that he looks very tired. This whole thing is getting to him in the same way that it is getting to us all. He also has the added worry of a very ill housekeeper.
My brother arrives and I leave Ray and Father White alone together. I can have a couple of hours’ respite with my family while I have my hair done. It’s hard tonight though. Conversation is somewhat stilted and I want only to get back home quickly. Even my hair doesn’t turn out as well as it normally does so I must be truly out of sorts with myself. Everyone, I know, is rooting for us and wishing us all the luck in the world for next week. I am sure I won’t see many people now before the trial begins but promise to ring and update everyone as it progresses from day to day.
Ray is waiting up for me. He has spoken to Ronnie, his brother in Ireland, who has told Ray that his flight leaves Dublin at 8.30pm on Sunday, 12 October. We will drive to Leeds airport to collect him. Kerry plans to leave Southampton on Monday morning to drive up here and she should arrive sometime during the afternoon. She will be staying with us as she wishes to sleep in Rachel’s old room at the family home, so we also have to arrange for Ronnie to stay at a local hotel for the duration. This suits him well though, as he would rather have his own company a lot of the time. I so much want them both to arrive. I need their support and common sense, as two who are on the periphery of this nightmare rather than in the middle as we, the rest of the family, have been for months.
The only good thing at the moment is that we are finally pulling together and drawing some comfort from each other. Such a relief and a difference from the way things were a few short weeks ago and I thank God for it. We have to remain strong for this final push. This is the last thing we can do for Rachel. We owe it to her and we cannot and will not let her down. If she is somewhere looking down on us, I hope she is proud of what we are trying to do for her. Above all, I pray that she gets the justice she deserves in the end. Not because of what happened to Rachel do I advocate the return of the death penalty. I have always held that view but perhaps the deterrent would have prevented the likes of Michael Little doing what he did to her. As it is, I can think of no sentence that would compare with his crime, which is why I say ‘justice – for what it’s worth’.
The weekend looms ahead, the last before the start of the trial, please God. There is much to do in readiness for our guests but I am strangely reluctant to make a start. Somehow, changing the bed linen and other such mundane chores seem unimportant in the greater scheme of things but I suppose they must be done.
I can’t imagine that I will find much time to update my diary between now and the trial, which is only three days away. I will make great efforts though after the final visit from the police on Monday afternoon to record all that transpires on that occasion. I dare not even think about Tuesday morning. The very idea of it fills me with dread and I don’t want to consider how we are all going to get through the next week or so, or however long the trial may last. Having to hear, in terrible detail, what happened to Rachel, and to see the face of her killer during it, does not bear thinking about. I must stay strong for everybody but wonder how we are all going to be able to live with the cold, hard facts for the rest of our lives.
These final few days are definitely the most nerve-wracking of all so far and, if ever I was in need of prayer, then surely I am now.