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NATALIE CAME BACK FOR the court case. She was a witness to the stalking and to the attack at the pub. There wasn’t much Hettie could do to change that, but she’d made her mum promise not to come to the court. She felt bad enough that Nat would have to go through it again.
Her sister seemed to have doubled in size since Hettie had last seen her. ‘Look at you! Now, that’s what you call a proper bump! I still can’t believe that’s going to happen to me.’
‘It had better. If you have one of those neat little bulges I’ll never forgive you. And if one more person asks me if it’s twins, I swear I’ll punch them.’
Despite the reason for her being there, it was good to have her sister around.
When Caroline Thanet briefed them on the order of the witnesses, Hettie felt sick. She hadn’t thought about quite how many of her acquaintances would be involved. Siobhan, Carol Greaves, Zoe’s parents...
‘And you don’t want to change your mind, about the screen?’
Hettie shook her head. What was the point? Everyone she knew in the courtroom would know her voice, and she wouldn’t give Julian the satisfaction of hiding from him.
‘Too bloody right. She’s got nothing to hide, have you, sis?’
Hettie smiled weakly at Nat. She made herself think about Zoe and Doris’s broken leg and what her mum must have gone through when the story first came out. But her voice didn’t carry quite the conviction she wanted it to. ‘No, nothing at all.’
She wasn’t needed for the first day of the trial, so she went to work as usual and tried not to think about it. She put the wrong saddles on two of the horses and mislaid her riding hat. She craved a cigarette for the first time in weeks. Zoe turned up at lunchtime. ‘I know you gave me the week off, but I can’t sit at home just thinking about it.’
Hettie hugged her. ‘Just think, Zo. This time next week it will all be over.’
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BERT DROVE THEM TO court. Natalie patted Hettie’s leg, several times, as they waited in the witness room. Hettie hadn’t been able to do up the button on her smart trousers that morning, so she’d had to find a longer top to wear. It should have been the least of her worries, but it was bothering her that the short-sleeved jumper she’d chosen was too soft and clingy, and it was baby-blue for God’s sake. She should have changed the black trousers and stuck with her white competition shirt. What sort of message did baby-blue wool send out?
They called her name.
Hettie panicked. She might need to go to the toilet first, but Nat was smiling at her, and the usher was holding the door open. Hettie stood and tugged at the baby-blue top. This was it then. She lifted her chin as she walked to the witness stand.
She saw Julian straight away. His was the only face that registered in the sea of them, at first. A smirk twisted his mouth. He folded his arms across his chest. Hettie laid a hand over Sprog and willed herself to be calm as she recited the words of the oath back to the court official.
The jury watched her. The judge smiled.
Hettie looked at the public gallery. A full house, rows of strangers and half-familiar faces. Then she saw Alexander, leaning forwards, his eyes intense on her face. For a moment she didn’t know if she wanted to laugh or to cry.
The questions began gently enough, but the subject matter made some of the answers stick in Hettie’s throat. She sipped from the glass of water and tried to conquer the wobble that crept into her voice. She imagined herself looking down on the courtroom, as if she wasn’t really there, as if all these black-gowned officials were acting a drama on the telly.
She thought about staying strong for Sprog and promised herself that when she’d spilled all the dirty secrets he’d have cleaner air to breathe.
Julian’s barrister was disarmingly friendly when she began cross-questioning. Hettie caught sight of Zoe’s parents, white faced in the gallery, and was glad her mum wasn’t there. Poor Zo still had to go through this, and she was only seventeen. If Zoe could do it... ‘Pardon? Could you repeat that question, please?’
‘Would it be fair to say, Miss Redfern, that you were promiscuous as a young adult?’
The blood pumping in Hettie’s ears drowned the sounds of the courtroom out. She couldn’t help but look for Alexander, and his eyes were fixed on her. ‘Yes, it would.’
‘And you slept with numerous men, on a frequent and casual basis.’
Hettie opened her mouth, but her own barrister spoke first. ‘Objection! Miss Redfern has already answered this question, honestly and clearly. My learned colleague is harrying the witness now.’
The judge looked over the top of his glasses. ‘I tend to agree. Can we move on, please.’
‘With respect, your honour, my client is accused of procuring sex by grooming. As difficult as this may be for the witness, I strongly believe that her sexual habits are relevant.’
Hettie was still staring at Alexander, and she could almost feel the anger flowing from him. She saw the tension across his broad shoulders, the dark slant of his brow. So what did it matter now? In the midst of her humiliation she felt a hot flicker of anger building out of the loss she felt when she looked at him. Let him judge. Let them all judge, then. ‘They can ask me anything. I’ve done nothing I’m ashamed of.’
The judge peered at her closely. ‘Very well. You may question the witness about her sexual habits, but only those prior to the incidents of which the accused is charged.’
The defence barrister shuffled her papers.
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LUNCH BREAK LASTED much longer than Hettie wanted it to. Alone in a room, she tried to force down the chicken sandwich, but it turned to pap in her mouth. She managed to drink the cup of weak tea. She just wanted out of here now. She wanted Julian locked up for Zoe’s sake, but this hadn’t been worth it for her. They were wrong, all those people who thought secrets were better out. She was the one on trial out there, and Alexander had already passed judgement.
Fuck him. Fuck them all.
Back on the witness stand, she fixed her gaze on the corner of the panel in front of the jury. She wouldn’t look to see if Alexander was still there, and she wouldn’t give Julian the satisfaction of glancing in his direction.
The defence barrister was talking again, in her silky, treacherous voice, but all she had to do was get through this and get out of there. Preferably to a bottle of gin and a packet of cigarettes. The cross-questions droned on for what seemed like forever.
Two years of stalking, had she kept any of the letters?
No, but she’d kept them this time around.
Had she actually seen Julian in the field, on the day when her dog got hurt?
No, but she’d heard him laughing.
She just wanted to close her eyes, and she sagged with relief when the defence barrister finally took her seat. But now her own barrister was getting up again, surely there couldn’t be any more questions to answer. ‘Thank you, Miss Redfern. You’ve been very thorough, but just before we finish, I wonder if I might return to an earlier point which was raised by my colleague.’
Hettie looked at him. Did she have any choice? She couldn’t even work out if he was asking a question or not. ‘Your sexual habits, prior to the events for which the defendant is charged. Would you please tell the jury if you were promiscuous before you knew Julian Greaves?’
Hettie closed her eyes. ‘Of course not. For God’s sake, I was only fifteen.’
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AND, SUDDENLY IT WAS all over. She was free to go.
Hettie almost ran out of the court building and onto the street outside. Her heels rapped on the pavement. She breathed in the welcome fresh air. She’d find a taxi somewhere, no need to call Bert, but should she wait for Nat? Hettie marched on. She couldn’t wait, she needed to be on her own and away from here.
‘Hettie!’
She spun when he touched her arm. ‘Don’t you fucking touch me!’
He dropped his hand and stepped back ‘What—’
‘I saw you in there! I told you not to come!’ She could hear that she sounded hysterical.
‘But you were amazing!’
‘Don’t lie! I saw you judging me. Do you think I haven’t seen that face before?’
‘No, no!’ He was shaking his head, moving closer. She swiped at him this time, but he caught her arm. ‘You’ve got it all wrong, Hettie.’
‘Don’t say my name.’ She was crying now, and he pulled her into his arms. She pushed against his chest as huge, hiccupping sobs wrenched from her.
‘Shush, shush. Let’s get you home. I’m parked in the side street. Walk with me.’
His hand was firm on the top of her arm. She tried to shrug him off, but her nose was running, and her eyes were streaming. She scrabbled in her bag in the vain hope of finding a tissue. He held the passenger door open. ‘Get in.’
‘You can give me a lift home, but you’re not coming in.’ Alexander didn’t answer. The door clunked shut behind her, and he walked around the car to climb into the driver’s seat. Hettie stared out of the window as he manoeuvred from the parking place.
‘There are some tissues in the glove compartment.’
They drove on in silence. Hettie wished she hadn’t got in the car with him. Giveaway hiccups still caught in her chest. The whole day had been a disaster, and she still had the awful prospect of facing people. People who knew more about her now than anyone had a right to.
‘So, do I get a hearing before you lose it?’
Her body felt leaden, all she wanted now was to climb into bed and sleep. For hours and hours. ‘Not today.’ She had the door of the car open before he’d fully stopped.
‘Hettie.’ Alexander leant forwards, his forearms pressed on the steering wheel. ‘The judgement I made in there was one of admiration. The only person judging you badly is you.’
She pushed the door shut behind her.