Well the prosecution witness decided to turn up today. The cynic in me started to think that they deliberately didn’t turn up the previous day so stories could be matched up and the accuser could tell them what questions might be asked and the answers she had given. Although there were other witnesses who she had allegedly told, our barrister felt it was better to not put them on the stand as they could elaborate to the jury and in her experience it was safer to take their written evidence as read. As none of the prosecution witnesses had actually witnessed any of the alleged events and their only 'evidence' was that she had told them - most, 20 years afterward - that she had been sexually abused when she was young, our barrister didn’t feel it was worth challenging their statements. Obviously we just trusted the legal advice we were given.
As the corridors emptied and I watched the jury file back in, the sick feeling consumed me again. Another 6 hours of waiting, worrying and getting a numb bum. Today, one of Harry’s children had come to the court to support us both. We went to the café to get a coffee as we wanted to avoid the accuser's supporters. My concern was being there for when Harry came back out, so sitting in the café where I couldn’t see the court room doors was difficult and I was constantly itching to get back into the corridors even though I knew he wouldn’t be out for at least an hour. We decided to sit the other end of the corridor so we didn’t have to have eye contact with anyone coming out of the court. I also knew the accuser's supporters would know who Harry’s child was and therefore my cover would be blown. The previous day they had spoken openly in the corridors, not realising who I was. To be honest though, hearing their version of events and the back slapping of how well it was all going, was not easy listening.
Harry came out the court room just before lunch and announced that the prosecution case had been closed and after lunch it was the start of the defence case. I knew this meant that it was Harry’s turn in the dock. He honestly looked dreadful. All I wanted to do was give him a hug but I knew he just wanted to be left alone.
There is no point me trying to put into words the ordeal that Harry went through that afternoon. I think only he truly knows what a horrendous experience it was. We all watch television dramas of people in the dock but when it is actually happening to you, it must be awful. When we drove home, I eventually felt confident enough to ask him how it went and did he feel he could answer every question and he replied ‘yes, I answered everything honestly and I didn’t leave any question without an answer’. He had to continue his evidence in the morning so I just replied with a squeeze of his hand.
I'm busy working on my blog posts. Watch this space!