‘You all right?’ asks the officer.She has probably been briefed on my medical condition.
‘Just finding my legs after the journey,’ I say.
They continue to wobble from nerves as I am led in a back door, through a maze of corridors. ‘Do you need the toilet?’ someone asks.
I nod. An officer unlocks my handcuffs and waits outside the cubicle. She seems relieved when I emerge. More corridors. Up some stairs, shaking, trying notto lookdown. Through a door. Then into a glass box overlooking the rest of the court. The elevation seems ironic.
All eyes are on me. I glance up at the public gallery and see a few faces from my old life. Are they here to support me or merely out of curiosity? There’s Frances. Jackie. And further to the right is Nicole. I try not to catch her eye.
Penny is further down, sitting behind thebarrister. She turns round and gives me a smile that is probably intended to be reassuring. I am not fooled. The evidence is stacked against me.
Years ago, as a prison officer, I would be on duty at trials like this. Nowadays it’s usually handled by security firms. Sometimes we had bets on who would be let off and who would go down. If I was doing that now, I wouldn’t wager any money on me.
‘Victoria Goudman,’ says the court clerk. ‘You are charged with the murder of Tanya Goudman. Do you plead guilty or not guilty?’
‘Not guilty,’ I whisper.
‘Can you speak up, please?’
‘Not guilty.’
I sit down. The room is looming in and out. But my dizziness is not, as far as I can see, a precursor to a seizure. I am simply terrified. Still, at least they haven’t charged me with David’s murder.Penny had warned me earlier that with the evidence they had against me, this might be possible, even though there isn’t a body. But clearly they’ve decided against it.
A female barrister is outlining the case against me. Inmy fear, her words go round and round my head in no particular order.
Certain phrases, however, stand out. ‘You will shortly be told how the defendant was found to have adiary in her possession, declaring her hatred for her ex-husband David Goudman and her desire to kill him so no one else could – I quote here – “have him either”.’
There’s a gasp from the gallery.
‘The jury will also hear how Tanya Goudman was strangled by a dog-toothed chain – similar to the key chain used in prisons. The defendant was once a prison governor, and a chain of this type was foundat her home after the murder.’
Another gasp.
One of the jurors shakes his head as if he has already made up his mind.
‘In addition, the defendant was photographed speaking to her ex-husband in a public place shortly before he disappeared. Initially she denied this but she then admitted to having lied.’
Each member of the jury now shoots me a suspicious glare.
‘Ladies and gentlemen, you willhear that Victoria Goudman has freely admitted entering the home of Tanya Goudman through the back door, bold as brass. She also admits to “tussling” with the deceased in anger. To corroborate this admission, the defendant’s DNA was found on the body.’
I want to put my hands over my ears.
‘You will also be told of her history of violence.’
What?
‘The defence will argue that their client isin far from robust health, but Vicki Goudman is no wilting violet. We will produce witnesses from her most recent prison appointment who will say she had a reputation for being tough and, at times, even aggressive in her demeanour. Clearly, she has brought this trait into her personal life.’
I can see from the jury’s faces that I am already guilty.
52
Helen
16 July 2018
I ask Mum to stay at home while I go to court. At first, she agrees. But after the weekend, on the third day of the trial, she kicks up one hell of a fuss. ‘I want to be there. See the bitch get her dues.’