Forever Is Over (65 page)

I was in court when the jury reached their verdict. Technically, I
should not have been, as the jury of seven men and five women retired
to consider their verdict on a Monday lunchtime, but when they failed
to reach a verdict that day, they were sent back to a hotel to deliberate
overnight, so I swopped days off with Stuart in the shop, to enable me
to be in court the next day.

It is often argued that juries reach a quick verdict when the accused
is found innocent. If there does not appear to be a strong prosecution
case, it negates the need to deliberate. A counter argument, however, is that if a trial is an open and shut case and the accused is blatantly guilty,
then there would be no need for deliberation either. Thus, I made no assumptions in relation to the delay, to me it did not point towards an
innocent or a guilty verdict. I could not call it.

At 11.15 a.m on Tuesday 7
th
November, 1989, the court came back
into session for the jury to announce their verdict. As the jury filed back
into court, Amy grabbed tight hold of my hand.

“
I can
’
t bear this.
”
she said as her voice wavered.

“
It
’
ll turn out OK.
”
I replied, remembering I had re-assured Kelly
in a similar fashion and as yet, everything still seemed a long way off
turning out OK.

If Jemma went to jail for the murder of her mother, I knew the
guilt would weigh heavily on me. She did not deserve this. Jemma
’
s
barrister had portrayed Carole Watkinson as a drunken, abusive mother
but Jemma seemed too streetwise and battle hardened to come across
as the poor, defenceless victim. In reality, Jemma was the victim, she
had been beaten by her mother relentlessly over weeks and months and
when Kelly finally did something to protect her, Jemma ended up being
charged for the murder.

As well as being nervous, I was excited about the arrival of the
verdict. If Jemma was found innocent, she would walk free from court
and our friendship would be free to develop. There had been coy smiles,
prolonged looks into my eyes and a shared sense of humour, during my
visits to Risley, which hinted that Jemma may have begun to notice
feelings for me. I would have to tread very carefully, as I could not
afford to make a complete fool of myself by making unwanted advances
towards Kelly
’
s sister, but the more I got to know Jemma, the more I
liked her and I was really interested in seeing where this would lead.

As everyone took their positions, the
‘
Head Juror
’
passed the verdict
of the jury to the judge.

“
Ladies and Gentleman of the jury, have you reached your verdict?
”

“
We have,
‘
Your Honour
’
,
”
declared the
‘
Head Juror
’
.

“
On the charge of murder, do you find the defendant, Jemma Louise
Watkinson, guilty or not guilty?
”

“
Not guilty.
”

I grabbed Amy
’
s hand tighter and with my other hand clenched my fist in a victorious manner! Fantastic! Justice had been done! She was
innocent! They had found her innocent!

The Judge continued.

“
On the charge of manslaughter
…
.
”

I cursed to myself. I had forgotten
about the manslaughter charge.

             
“…
..do you find the defendant, Jemma Loui
se Watkinson, guilty
or not guilty?
”

“
Guilty.
”

The colour drained from Jemma
’
s face. There had been a mix of
contented murmurings and shaking of heads when the
‘
not guilty
’
murder verdict had been returned, but when the
‘
guilty
’
manslaughter
verdict was returned there was a moment were there was a stunned
silence. As far as my recollection goes, this was broken by Amy sobbing
and blowing her nose. The judge thanked the jury, then announced at
the end of a rambling summary that Jemma would serve three years in
prison for the manslaughter of Carole Watkinson.

Jemma was led away, not screaming and shouting like in an American
TV drama, just quietly, head bowed, handcuffed to a tough looking
policewoman who looked like she was more than capable of giving Mike
Tyson a run for his money. Thistles and bulldogs sprung to mind.

Selfishness is an undesirable trait, but as Jemma was being led
away, I must admit, I was not thinking of how she would cope locked
away in a prison cell for the next three years, that thought came later,
all I could think about was how the verdict affected me. My gorgeous girlfriend, who I had adored had left me, through no fault of mine and
had made no contact with me for over six months. Her current location
was unknown. I genuinely thought she loved me but it seemed like I
had that one wrong. Her sister, who was equally stunning, a completely
different specimen but a rollercoaster ride I was keen to get on, was
now going to be spending three years eating porridge at
‘
Her Majesty
’
s
Pleasure
’
. I sat there in Preston Crown Court, ignoring Amy
’
s tears,
making no attempt to console her, just dwelling on my own, personal misery. I felt well and truly cursed.

             
I reflected that I needed to move on now. Forget about the
Watkinsons. Forget about the missing testicle and move on. A life less
complicated would be the best option now, I concluded. Back then I was
a fickle soul! I went home that night and played every melancholy CD
that I had. I was looking for a song that seemed to sum up my situation.
When I couldn
’
t find one within my own collection, I raided Caroline
’
s.
After a lot of flicking through utter tripe, I stumbled across two songs,
both by a band (or more accurately two ladies) I had never even heard of
before that night. They were called the Indigo Girls and the two songs,
that perfectly summed up everything I was feeling were called,
“
Blood
and Fire
”
and
“
Crazy Game
”
. I played those two songs over and over
that night, on low volume so as not to wake Mum and Dad (fortunately
Jim was stopping the night at Warren Walker
’
s or Russell Jones
’
house, I
wasn
’
t sure which). They both felt that they had been written especially
for me, all about the power and emotion love generates.

By the time I finally succumbed to sleep that night, I knew I was
not prepared to give up on Kelly Watkinson just yet. She had gone away,
but there were major reasons why. After six months, maybe I should
be moving on, maybe the world was full of potential new girlfriends
who could make me feel like Kelly had, but I did not want them, I just
wanted Kelly back. I was doing a complete about turn but what I wanted
more than anything else was to find Kelly, see how she felt about me
now, six months down the line. Had our love been as real as it appeared
to me? I was going to find Kelly, I vowed and I was going to find out.

As Jemma settled down to spend her first night in prison as a
convicted killer, I went to sleep on my feathered pillows and comfy
mattress, with my dreams all about her sister! The first time I fell in love
with Jemma Watkinson, it was just for a fleeting moment, the second
time, two years later, I vowed it would be forever.

As I entered Mr. Davenport
’
s office, he stood up, walked around his
desk and came towards me with an outstretched right hand. We shared
a firm handshake and exchanged pleasantries.

“
Hello again, Mr.Davenport!
”

“
Richie! How good to see you! Please take a seat. How are you?
”

Under the circumstances it seemed a strange question. Given
three weeks had passed since my operation, I was returning to see
Mr.Davenport to hear the news from him about my state of health, following blood tests and microscopic examinations of my lumpy,
extracted bollock.

“
I
’
m very well, thanks!
”
I replied, hoping that Mr.Davenport would not be following this with a pantomime,
‘
Oh no, you
’
re not!
’

“
Good! Good! Stitches come out OK?
”

“
They oozed a bit, but they were fine.
”

“
So how
’
s the groin now?
”

“
It feels perfect. It was very sore for a while, but its all good now.
”

‘
Get to the point, Mr. Davenport!
’
I thought,
‘
get to the point!
’

“
Excellent. Obviously you know why we are here today
…”

It was a rhetorical question, but I gave an answer anyway.

“
Yes, to review the results.
”

Surprisingly enough, I wasn
’
t there to play tiddlywinks!

“
Absolutely
and I
’
m sure you don
’
t want me to beat around the bush,
so I want to tell you straight away that it
’
s very positive
…
.
”

‘
Great!
’
I thought,
“
very positive
”
sounded a whole lot better as a
starting gambit than
‘
I
’
m sorry there
’
s no easy way of saying this
…
’

“
Mr. Gray, the pathologist,
”
Mr. Davenport continued,
“
confirmed,
as we had thought all along, that it was indeed testicular cancer that we
were dealing with.
”

Not very positive so far, I thought, although at least my testicle and
spermatic cord had been taken out for a reason. I would have felt more
than a little aggrieved if it had just turned out to be a boil!
”

“
The good news though,
”
Mr. Davenport went on,
“
is in relation to
the blood tests. Remember me telling me you that there were chemicals
in your blood that gave us an indication of whether there were cancerous
cells? Well, following the operation, your bloods are no longer indicating
the presence of these chemicals, as they had prior to the operation. My
concerns had always centred on the fact that, due to the delay between
your initial awareness of a lump and your subsequent trip to your GP
’
s,
that the cancer could have spread to the lymph nodes. The indication is
that the cancer has not spread. We will obviously continue to monitor
you, to ensure everything continues to remain positive, but the operation
appears to have gone very well. Very well indeed!
”