‘My client is also epileptic, which can be triggered by stress. She would be safer at home.’
I feel myself redden as the judge’s eyes take on a new interest.
‘Is that the case? Yet surely she is on medication.’
‘She is but it doesn’t always control her condition.’
No one mentionsthat I sometimes don’t take the stuff.
‘In what way?’
‘She can have seizures at any time. Her memory has also been affected and she sometimes has no recollection of certain events.’
The judge frowns. ‘Then I rule that bail is denied. The defendant would be better off in prison, where her medical state can be constantly monitored.’
My worst fears have been realized. I am being thrown to thedogs! Many defendants are terrified because they don’t know what lies ahead. But I know all too well.
I will be eaten alive in prison. Inmates love it when another has a vulnerability such as mine. I once had a man with a terrible stutter who was constantly bullied. Jail can bring out the basest of natures: partly because the bullies are scared too. So they hide their fear by tormenting others.A former prison guv is a top prize. They will make mincemeat of me.
I also know the score from a practical point of view. In a minute I’ll be escorted down to the cell below the courtroom, where I’ll be allowed a few more words with my solicitor, and then into the van. Women’s prisons are divided into open, restricted and closed. I will be sent to one of the last two, where security is tight.Then I will wait there until I am tried in court. The judge didn’t set a specific date but I know from experience that it will be at least three months, although sometimes someone decides there’s a backlog and bumps things along. The barrister, meanwhile, will be preparing my case. I will be allowed legal visits once the paperwork is sorted.
Yet when I get to the court cell, my solicitor tellsme that a woman wants to see me.
I’m not expecting this, though it’s true that a defendant who is not granted bail or who has just been convicted is often allowed to see a close relative before being taken away.
But I don’t have anyone. Not any more.
‘Who?’ I ask.
‘Nicole Goudman.’
David’s daughter?
‘OK.’
Penny hesitates. ‘You’re sure?’
I nod.
I hear the voice before she comes into sight.Shrill. Well-educated. Spoilt. Those had been my first impressions when David had introduced us. Now it’s hysterical. I brace myself.
‘What have you done to my father, you cold-hearted bitch?’
Once more I am struck by the similarity between her and David. The same dark hair. The same brown eyes. Those high cheekbones. That charm (when it’s there) and that breathless arrogance (when it’s not).No guessing which mode she is in at the moment.
‘You’ve killed him. Just like you killed my stepmother.’
‘No,’ I say. ‘I haven’t. I didn’t.’
‘I don’t believe you.’ Tears are streaming down her face. ‘You were obsessed with him. Always ringing him. Following him. Dad told me. Said you were a nutter. I told the police you were dangerous all along. WHERE HAVE YOU PUT HIM?’
She is lunging in mydirection now, lashing out. For a minute, I let her. After all, look what happened when Idefended myself against Tanya’s outburst. But then my survival instinct kicks in. I go for her right arm and twist it back so she can’t get me.
‘Help!’
Officers are flying at me from all directions. My own arms are now behind my back. I am handcuffed. Then I am led away, with Nicole still screaming, toa courthouse cell. A stark concrete floor. Stained mattress. No window.
‘The prison van will be here shortly,’ says one of the officers sharply. ‘So don’t get too comfy.’