Deon Nelson stole my happiness, I say. He shattered my life and made me afraid of every man I meet. He made me feel ashamed of my own body.
I pause and take a drink from a glass of water. The courtroom is very quiet. Up on the bench the two magistrates, a man and a woman, watch me unblinkingly. It’s very hot, the room windowless and beige, the lawyers perspiring a little under their wigs.
Two screens have been rigged up so that I can’t be seen from the dock. I can feel Deon Nelson’s presence behind them. But I don’t feel scared. Quite the opposite. The bastard’s going to prison.
I’ve been crying, but now I raise my voice. I had to move because I thought he might come back, I say. I suffered flashbacks and memory loss and I started seeing a counselor. My relationship with my boyfriend broke down.
Nelson’s lawyer, a short, trim woman wearing an elegant little power suit under her black gown, looks up, suddenly thoughtful, and makes a note.
How do I feel about the prospect of Deon Nelson getting bail? I say. I feel sickened. Having been threatened at knifepoint by him, having been robbed and raped by him in the most humiliating way possible, I know what he’s capable of. The idea that he could be free to walk the streets terrifies me. I would feel terrified just knowing he was out there.
This last point is something DI Clarke has hinted I should include. It’s all very well for Nelson’s lawyer to argue that her client has no intention of approaching me. If I feel threatened by the very fact of his freedom, there’s a risk I might withdraw my testimony and the trial would collapse. Right now, I’m the most important person in this courtroom.
Both magistrates are still watching me. The public gallery, too, is silent. Before I started I was nervous, but now I feel powerful and in control.
Deon Nelson didn’t just rape me, I say. He made me live with the fear he was going to send the video of what he’d done to everyone I know. Threats and intimidation are how he works. I hope the justice system will treat his bail application accordingly.
Bravo, a little voice inside my head says.
Thank you, Miss Matthews. We will certainly take your views into very serious consideration, the male magistrate says kindly. Feel free to take a moment to sit down in the witness box, if you wish. Then, when you are feeling well enough, you may go.
There’s silence in the courtroom as I gather up my things. Nelson’s lawyer is already on her feet, waiting to approach the bench.