You Against Me

Twenty-seven

The public gallery wasn’t high up like the Old Bailey on TV, just a few rows of chairs with an aisle between them. There was no whispered hush when Ellie walked in, no tutting judge surrounded by barristers to tell her off for being late, just groups of people sitting around on chairs waiting for it all to begin. Stacey and her mates were in the far corner, and although they stared as Ellie walked down the aisle and squeezed in next to her mother, no one else took much notice.

‘I was beginning to give you up for lost,’ Mum said, and she patted Ellie’s hand, as if everything would be all right now.

It was like sitting in an airless registry office, waiting for a badvibe wedding. There was even an usher, some bloke flitting around with handfuls of paperwork. Tom was in the front row, the groom waiting for his bride. But the bride wasn’t coming. Karyn McKenzie was at home weeping, her wedding dress in tatters, refusing to get in the limo. I won’t marry him, I won’t! He’s cruel and I hate him.

Tom was scared – Ellie knew it from the way he concentrated on the floor in front of his feet, the tight pinch of his shoulders. He was wearing his new suit, chosen by Dad for its fine weave and quality stitching. But under his arms and along his spine, sweat would be gathering.

Mum leaned across and nudged her. ‘The mother’s just come in. I heard Barry say.’

Ellie turned her head slightly, pretending not to be that interested. Mikey’s mum looked as if she was trying hard to be focused as she walked up the aisle, her head very straight, her neck straight too. Behind her came Mikey. And trailing behind him, his mate Jacko. Ellie couldn’t take her eyes off them as they hunted for seats.

‘She’s very young,’ Mum whispered. ‘You reckon those two boys have different fathers?’

‘They’re not brothers.’

‘They might be. How do you know?’

Ellie didn’t even bother replying. Her heart stirred with softness for Mikey as he helped his mum to a seat and encouraged her to take off her jacket. She looked very nervous as her eyes darted about the place.

Mikey’s gaze swept the room as he took his own coat off. He clocked Tom, Dad and the solicitor, their heads bent together, locked in last-minute discussions. Then he saw Ellie and it was like an invisible electric wire joined them across the room. She turned away quickly and focused her attention on the high window above the judge’s bench. There was a line of grey cloud shifting across the sky. Under her chair, she crossed her feet, uncrossed them, recrossed them.

Mum nudged her again. ‘Here we go. Here’s the judge.’

The usher cried, ‘Court rise.’ And everyone stood up as the judge came in from a side door. He had a better wig than the barristers and was wearing a black and purple robe. He sat behind a long bench under a heraldic sign and everyone was told to sit down again. The usher sat below at a small desk and the barristers faced the judge with their laptops and their files of paper.

Ellie found it hard to concentrate, hard to focus. Mikey was behind her, three rows back on the other side of the aisle. The bride’s side.

The barristers took it in turns to stand up and talk to the judge. They talked about statements on which the prosecution were relying and material that might benefit the defence. Legal jargon was tossed back and forth, and the crowd leaned forward, trying to make sense of it.

Was Mikey looking at her? How much of her could he see from where he was sitting? The back of her neck? Her shoulders?

On and on the barristers went, and just as people started to shuffle their feet and Ellie began to hope that Barry was right and people would get bored and go home, Tom was asked to go and stand in the dock. The crowd pressed forward in their chairs.

The dock was to the side of the barristers, a semi-partitioned area with steps up to it. When Tom stood there in his best suit, everyone could see his face. He looked paler than he had in the car, and very scared.

The judge said, ‘Is your name Thomas Alexander Parker?’

‘Yes, it is.’ He sounded young, his voice achingly familiar.

The judge read out his date of birth and then his address. He even included the postcode. The room seemed to tilt as he read the charge out. The words sexual assault echoed inside Ellie’s head. Tom was asked if he understood what he’d been accused of doing.

‘Yes,’ he said, ‘I do.’

Like a vow.

‘And how do you plead? Guilty or not guilty?’

Ellie could feel her own heart beating, her brain ticking, as the room slowed down. He could refuse to plead. He could plead insanity. He could say he did it.

‘Not guilty.’

A babble of objections broke out across the room, as well as a spattering of applause. Some of Tom’s friends must have come in, because a boy yelled, ‘You tell ‘em, mate!’ The judge banged his little hammer and asked for quiet.

In the fuss, Ellie stole a look at Mikey.

He was staring at the floor as if he’d given up. Her whole body felt cold looking at him. Mikey loved his sister, that’s why he’d tried to help her. He loved his mother too – see how he put his arm round her, see how she leaned in to him? He’d do anything for them, probably – isn’t that what people in families did for each other? Isn’t that what Tom was always telling her? But now Mikey would have to go home and tell Karyn that in a few short weeks, she’d have to leave the flat and come to court and talk about what happened. Her life would be taken apart and examined by strangers, and anyone could come and watch.

Not guilty.

The words repeated inside Ellie’s head. Every time she blinked she saw them flare.