Invisible (23 page)

She looked lost, head down
and shaking slightly as she looked this way and that as if back on that dark,
deserted side street.
Mouth working constantly, while voice dropped
to almost a whisper.
‘I couldn’t stand up. My legs were sprawled out in
front of me and I couldn’t seem to make them work. Doctors said afterwards it
was severe shock and trauma that had temporarily shut my body down…’

‘Objection!
Hearsay.
The witness is not a medical expert.’ The words
came out like bullets, making us all blink in shock. I’d almost forgotten we
were in court as I’d imagined what that poor woman had been through.

‘Sustained,’ agreed the
judge. ‘We will be hearing from medical experts on this matter later though,’
he added in the direction of the jury.

Given the go-ahead to
continue, Mrs D took a deep, shuddering breath. But I wasn’t watching her; I
was looking at Daryl again, trying to gauge his expression. All I saw was
genuine sadness and concern.

‘I, umm, I scooted forward
on my bum and got my handbag and shoved my stuff back into it; it had burst
open when it fell to the ground, and everything had gone everywhere, see. I
don’t, I don’t even know why I did that. Automatic,’ said Mrs D, words tumbling
out now as she neared the end of her story.

‘Then I pulled myself
forward, dragging my legs behind me, reached the main street and carried on
going, sort of pulling myself along on my elbows, which was easier than using
my hands because they were still taped up.’ She held her wrists together and
bent her arms to demonstrate. ‘Knew I had to keep going otherwise I’d die, or
he might come back or something and then I saw headlights and…and I remember
screaming and screaming and screaming because I thought it was him…but it was a
cabbie…I was saved…’

I’d say she was lucky to
escape with her life, but how can you call someone lucky when they’ve suffered
such horror?

Her words had been so
powerful and affecting that when Daryl’s defence team started questioning Mrs
D, I felt sorry for her. Instead of wanting to cheer at every hole they pulled
in her evidence, I felt uncomfortable. Instead of feeling annoyed when the
Crown’s barrister asked the defence to tone down their questioning because they
were being too aggressive, and were backed by the judge, I felt secretly
pleased.

This is so messed up and
wrong. I’ve tried so hard not to let these women in; I don’t want to feel for
them because although I know they are victims of terrible crimes it is easier
to think of them almost as the enemy. They must be beaten, because the
alternative is that Daryl goes to prison for something he simply didn’t do. Yet
here I am, softening towards them and almost rooting for them, and imagining
things about my husband.

If only a judgement on one’s
side favour didn’t brand the other side liars and worse.

So I have to harden myself
to these women and their ordeals. I can’t show I care about them or the jury
could misread it and think I doubt Daryl. I feel like a total bitch though. That’s
why I’m hanging over the loo, feeling nauseous: because I know Daryl is
innocent, and yet this stupid court case has made me question everything even
when I know it is an absolute; has made me imagine nonsense; and because I’m
having to hate rape victims.

The only consolation about
today is that Daryl has no idea about the turmoil my head was in. Instead I
must have appeared as solid as ever when we once again mouthed ‘I love you’ to
one another as he was led away at the end of the court session. I spotted one
of the jurors looking at us and smiling gently; that’s got to be a good sign.

Friday 8

There was a different
atmosphere in court today. I could feel it as soon as everyone settled into
their places (even I’ve managed to find a ‘usual spot’, always sitting in the
same place. It’s nice, means Daryl always knows where to look for me). There
was a sense of anticipation almost because today a victim was going to give her
testimony in the stand rather than via a video link. We all knew this was going
to seem way more real – sometimes it’s easy to kid yourself the person isn’t
real, that it’s simply a programme you’re watching when it’s on the screen.

When the woman was called, I
saw the back of her head as she walked over to the witness box directly
opposite the jury and entered it…then gasped as she turned. It was her – the
woman who looked like me.

There could be no doubting
it now that she was right in front of me. We were a similar age and height, our
hair the same colour and texture, though hers was slightly shorter and choppier;
our lips, eyes, basic shape of face… We weren’t identical, but it was enough
similarity to freak me out, and I heard whispers of surprise rustle through the
courtroom as others noticed.

There was one very important
difference between us though: she was heavily pregnant. I hadn’t noticed it
when I’d spotted her briefly the other day because the crowd had hidden all but
her face, but actually her stomach was huge and she looked ready to drop any
day.

She was allowed to sit as
she gave evidence and settled with one hand over her bump, the other just
below, rubbing it comfortingly.

This is the woman who was
raped in Turkey…

‘Please, Miss E, can you
describe what happened to you whilst on your holiday in
Olu
Deniz
on Tuesday 2 June last year?’ asked the
prosecution.

Olu
Deniz
. I’d know the attack had happened in Turkey, but hadn’t
realised it was in the same resort we’d stayed in. Then I remembered – the day
after Daryl and I had had a huge row I’d heard about a young woman being raped.
Of course, I should have put two and two together.

I swallowed hard, trying not
to show on my face the worry I was feeling inside. The fact that we were in the
same place at the same time as this crime was going to look bad, very bad.

Miss E spoke in a calm manner;
the only sign of anxiety was her hand constantly circling her tummy. ‘I’d gone
on holiday with a group of
girl friends
. I’d just
split up with my boyfriend and so getting away had seemed like the perfect way
to relax and get over things. We spent several days at the resort and felt very
comfortable there; it’s a wonderful place, with the turquoise sea, gorgeous
beach, friendly locals, and
it’s
very family
orientated too so none of us girls felt intimidated about going out at night.
It wasn’t a meat market, like some resorts can feel, you know?

‘That Tuesday the four of us
had spent the day relaxing by the hotel swimming pool, and that night there was
some entertainment being laid on at the hotel too. Two of my friends wanted to
stay and see it, but my other friend and I fancied a change of scenery so
decided to go to the town.

‘We walked down to some of
the seafront bars; it’s only a small place so we got there in about five
minutes, and had a couple of cocktails and watched the sun set over the sea,
then caught a
dolmus
– they’re like minibuses, that’s
how everyone gets around – into
Hisaronu
, which is
still fairly quiet but a bit livelier than
Olu
Deniz
itself. We fancied having a bit of a dance, you see.

‘Some lads came over to chat
to us. My mate really liked one of them but I wasn’t interested, so I decided
to go back to the hotel alone. Like I said, we felt really safe in the resorts,
there were
dolmus
coming every couple of minutes, so
it didn’t feel like a reckless thing to do. I was more worried about leaving my
friend alone in the club than me walking to the bus stop, and arranged to call
her in half an hour to check she was okay – we even sorted out a word she could
use to secretly tell me if there was a problem: we chose “inconceivable”.’

Miss E paused then, appearing
to gather her strength. The courtroom seemed to hold its breath as we waited
for the horror we knew was coming, and I realised I was on the edge of my seat,
leaning forward. The hard wooden ledge was cutting off the circulation to my
legs but I barely noticed. Everything she’d said had been so familiar to me
that I’d imagined every step she’d taken…

‘I started walking to the
dolmus
stop. The main street is very well lit and there
were lots of people around so I felt confident, although I did of course look
around every now and again to check there was no one dodgy around. The stop I
was walking to was on the edge of town, but still well-lit thanks to all the
street lamps and lights from restaurants, bars and shops.

‘I was almost there when I
suddenly became aware of someone behind me and as I turned my head to look over
my shoulder,
wham,
I was punched in the face. I was
totally dazed by it, but I tried to scream, but there was a hand over my mouth
and an arm around me dragging me backwards. I remember being struck by how
efficiently he moved
,
it was like he was well
practised…’

‘Objection.
Conjecture.’

‘Sustained.’

She took a steadying breath,
apparently determined not to get flustered or phased – or at least not to let
it show. ‘Where I was taken to
was
dark, and the noise
from the street seemed very muffled somehow even though it had taken scant
seconds to get there. I couldn’t see the man’s face because he was behind me,
but sensed he was quite tall and muscular, powerfully built, and at one point I
sort of saw the top of his head and realised he was bald.

‘I could smell him too, he
was wearing the same body spray as my ex-boyfriend had worn, Lynx Africa, but
there was something else as well, something that seemed almost ingrained into
his skin. I knew that every detail I could remember about him would be
important afterwards, so I concentrated on staying calm and trying to identify
it. It was diesel.

‘I tried to scream again,
but he got me in some sort of choke hold and told me to keep quiet...’

The Crown Prosecutor stood
up for a moment. ‘Can you remember the exact words he used?’

‘Yes,
definitely.
He whispered right into my ear: ‘Dirty
whores like you need to be taught a lesson. I’ll teach you a lesson you’ll
never forget.’ As he spoke, he squeezed my throat until I could barely breathe
and my vision went black around the edges and finally I lost consciousness.’

There was no sense of
uncertainty or fear about her at all as she spoke. Despite her inner steel
though, she looked vulnerable as her hand circled round and round her pregnant
belly.

‘When I came round I was in
an ambulance. Apparently some locals had heard my mobile phone ringing and
followed the sound until they’d found me down a back alley; my friend was
calling me, worried when I hadn’t contacted her as arranged. When they saw me,
unconscious, they’d called for help and I was rushed to hospital where it was
immediately obvious that I’d been raped.’

‘Can you tell us about how
the brutal assault has changed your life?’ asked the QC.

For a moment the hand
stopped its circular motion,
then
started again as she
spoke. ‘My life was turned upside down that night,’ she said, still sounding
strong and sure. ‘At first I blamed myself, thinking that I must have done
something terrible to somehow deserve what had happened to me, wondering why I
was picked out over countless others. Then I discovered I was pregnant by my
rapist.’

I gasped, stunned. Judging
from the hiss that rippled through the courtroom I wasn’t the only one.

‘At first I wanted to get
rid of it…the thought of having something growing inside me that was anything
to do with that man…I even though about killing myself…’ Her voice juddered
with emotion for the first time. She took a moment then continued.

‘I was raised a Catholic
though, and in my time of need I turned again to my religion. With my parents’
support, I made the decision to keep my baby – I have an innocent life growing
inside me, one that shouldn’t be punished for the horrific way it was
conceived. It wasn’t easy at first, but as time has passed I’ve realised I can
love this child. She is mine and will never have anything to do with the monster
who fathered her.

‘That’s one of the reasons
why I wanted to give evidence in person today, rather than have my testimony
read out or give it in a different room. I want to face my attacker and for him
to see the consequences of his actions. And to know he will never have anything
to do with his child.’

‘Objection!’ said Daryl’s
lawyer, jumping to his feet. ‘The witness is talking as though her attacker is
in the room when in fact she didn’t see him and is unable to identify him.’

‘Sustained,’ agreed the
judge.

The defence soon got their
chance to tear into Miss E though. I settled back into my seat, back aching
from having spent so long leaning forward, and tried to push down any pity I
felt for her. It was time for us to score some points…

‘When you went on holiday
you were getting over the break-up of your relationship, is that correct?’