He cut a lone figure, thought Adey as she made her way over to Anderson. ‘Hello,’ she said.
‘Hi, are you OK? Hussain told me what happened.’
‘I grew up in Moss Side – course I’m OK.’
‘Not to mention Mogadishu.’
A wistful smile. ‘I heard it didn’t get us anywhere. I’m sorry.’
‘Listen, I know you tried everything, and then some.’
She believed in him, completely. That was enough for Anderson.
‘I’m glad you came, Adey. About us…’
She’d been waiting for this.
‘I don’t know what will be left of me when I get out. Prison changes people. We’ve both seen that.’
She thought of Bahdoon and who he used to be. ‘Let’s cross that bridge when we come to it. Isn’t that what pompous lawyers say?’
They both forced a smile.
‘All parties to Court One immediately.’
Verdict.
This was it. ‘Good luck, John.’ Adey could hardly get her words out. ‘Aren’t quick verdicts usually acquittals?’
Anderson shrugged.
The landing was soon full of press and public, jostling to get into the courtroom.
Someone was calling out: ‘John! John!’
Anderson stopped at the door of the court to see who it was.
Out of breath and panting, his brother, Stephen Anderson, marched across the landing. ‘John, I rang the court, they said you’d get a verdict today. I’m sorry I couldn’t get here before – work.’
‘I understand. I’m amazed you could get up here at all. I keep seeing you on telly giving some opinion about the latest government policy. It’s great to see you doing so well.’
‘I’m sorry about Mum and Dad. You know what they’re like.’
Anderson nodded.
‘But I wanted you to know, whatever happens, I’m here for you. Whatever you need, let me know. Anything.’
Holding back the tears, they hugged.
Anderson was ready to face the music.
As Anderson was about to enter the courtroom, Hussain came up the stairs, still pulling on his gown.
Anderson waited for him. ‘I just wanted to say thanks again for everything, my friend. Win or lose.’
‘But I persuaded you to have a trial, John. Will you still thank me if you are convicted?’ he asked anxiously.
Anderson smiled. ‘Of course. It was the right thing to do. I could never have lived with myself. I needed to know what actually happened. You earned me a “careless”. I made the decision to reject it, not you.’
‘But we still don’t know what happened.’
‘But at least we tried.’
‘Yes, I tried my best – you know that, don’t you?’
‘Of course.’ Anderson sensed something more. ‘What is it, Tahir?’
‘It doesn’t make any difference now, but you have a right to know.’
‘Know what?’
The usher came out of the courtroom: ‘Mr Hussain, didn’t you hear the tannoy? Can I ask you to bring your client in immediately, we have a verdict.’
‘We’re coming,’ he replied. ‘Just a moment.’
The usher glowered at him, then went back into court.
‘Ahmed was blackmailing me.’
‘I know, about withdrawing from the case?’
‘I didn’t give you the full story. He actually wanted me to defend you and to lose the trial.’
‘What?’ Confused, Anderson took a few seconds to process the information.
Hussain could see his client’s disappointment.
Anderson recalled how Hussain was instructed. ‘That’s why you came to Bradford to see me at the prelim? Ahmed sent you?’
‘Yes, but I wanted to defend you. I could’ve just let you plead guilty.’
‘And Adey?’
‘She has no idea.’
Anderson was too shocked to be angry, which made Hussain feel even worse. ‘Why are you telling me now?’
‘Because you became my friend. It was easier to keep it from you when I didn’t know you. I’m sorry.’
‘Did Ahmed have anything to do with the crash?’
‘I don’t know. Really. I challenged him several times. He admitted nothing. And you know, there’s no evidence against him.’
The usher came back out and this time physically pushed them through the door.
The courtroom was at bursting point. Even the judge was surprised when he came in. Counsels’ rows were full of barristers from other courts, eager to see the outcome.
Anderson was oblivious to the hoards of people, still reeling from this new revelation.
When everyone was seated, the jurors came into court and took their seats.
A prison officer, standing next to Anderson in the dock, nudged him to his feet.
The court clerk addressed the jury: ‘Would the foreman please stand?’
A middle-aged man with glasses stood up. He had the appearance of being educated. Maybe that was a good sign, thought Hussain.
‘How do you find the defendant on count one, guilty or not guilty?’
Hussain prayed for an acquittal.
The courtroom held its breath.
‘Guilty.’
Gasps from the gallery.
Guilty? Anderson’s legs gave way.
The dock officer, used to such events, pulled him back up and held Anderson until he could bear his own weight.
‘How do you find the defendant on count two?’
‘Guilty.’
Anderson’s ashen face was blank.
The judge wasted no time: ‘A custodial sentence is inevitable. The defendant’s previous character has been well demonstrated during the trial so I see no need to adjourn for a pre-sentence report from the probation service.’
Anderson could see the judge’s mouth was moving, but he could take nothing in.
‘Anything you’d like to say, Mr Hussain?’
In shock, Hussain struggled to get his words out. Never had a verdict mattered so much to him. ‘No. Your Honour is aware of the Sentencing Council guidelines in this case?’
‘Yes, I am. Mr Anderson, this is a very serious offence that led to the death of a young woman and a five-year-old child. Nothing will bring them back and no sentence I pass on you can ever be measured against the loss of life. In my view you ran a cynical defence when it was obvious to all, including the jury, that you fell asleep whilst driving. Although I can’t hold your right to have a trial against you, I cannot afford you the credit that would have been due on a guilty plea. I must also conclude that you show no remorse for this crime. Taking into account the guidelines of the Sentencing Council, the total sentence is five years’ imprisonment, to run concurrently on each count. Take him down.’
The dock officer cuffed a shell-shocked Anderson and pushed him down the stairs inside the dock that led to the cells, and into another world.