Good Me Bad Me(13)

‘Like I said, it’s a new development and at this point they’re keeping their cards close to their chest,’ Skinny responds.

‘Seems like desperate measures to me, given the evidence.’

No, June, not desperate, but the first phase of a plan being executed by you, Mummy.

‘In terms of what it means for Milly,’ Skinny responds, ‘we should prepare her for the eventuality she’ll be cross-examined on her evidence.’

‘Mike,’ I say.

He looks at me. ‘It’s okay, it’s going to be okay.’

Stomach empty, no breakfast, yet my throat feels full. Swallow. I’m not on trial, you are. That’s all I need to remember.

‘How likely is it looking?’ June asks.

‘We’re pretty sure the defence will want to go down that route. It’ll be the judge, taking into account our recommendations, who makes the final decision, but it’s not all doom and gloom,’ Skinny replies. ‘Milly has the choice of doing it through a video link or – if we think she can handle it – she can go on the stand. There’ll be a screen set up so Milly won’t be able to see her mother. In my opinion, putting her on the stand can only evoke a favourable response from the jury. Nothing like a kid in court to pull in the sympathy.’

‘I don’t like the idea of Milly being used as bait,’ Mike responds.

‘I second that,’ June says.

‘Like it or loathe it, it’s the nature of the court system,’ Skinny says. ‘And at the end of the day, we all want the same thing.’

Everybody at the table nods but me, I focus on breathing. Calm. On not letting them know I can hear you laughing in my head.

‘What about you, Milly? What do you think?’ June asks.

Protégée. You loved saying that word. Brave enough. Am I? The lessons you gave me, good enough. Were they? You want them to blame me. YOU WERE THERE TOO, ANNIE. I try to block out your voice, answer June’s question.

‘Me and Mike have been talking a bit about it and we think by the time the trial starts I’ll be strong enough, and that it might actually help if I go into the courtroom.’

‘Very sensible attitude,’ Skinny says, picking a small scab to the right of his mouth. The sight makes me feel uncomfortable so I look away, turn towards the flickering light, but it makes me feel dizzy and my heart beats faster.

‘It all sounds rather gung-ho if you ask me.’

Well we didn’t, June, did we?

‘We all know what the defence lawyers can be like when they get going,’ she continues.

A blockage in my throat, I’d scream if I could. Pins and needles in my feet from pushing them hard into the ground. If only I could tell them why it’s so important I go to court. Why I have to play the game with you. I look at Mike, give him eyes enough, ask him to step in. He does.

‘Milly and I will work on strategies over the following weeks but in my opinion she does seem to have her head in a reasonable place about this. It might also be useful to view this as an opportunity for closure. A cathartic experience if handled correctly.’

‘And if it’s not? I’m sorry to play devil’s advocate here, but what if it’s too difficult for her in the actual moment? What if the defence go hard, try and confuse her, manipulate her into agreeing with their version of events? She feels guilty enough as it is.’

‘Hang on, June, I’m not sure it’s helpful to talk about Milly’s feelings in front of everybody.’

‘Sorry, you’re right. But we do need to make a decision about this and I think it might be beneficial if we stepped outside to do that. Shall we?’

She gestures to Mike and the lawyers and they leave the room, saying they won’t be long. I trace the ripples of scars through my shirt. Count them. Twenty times, or more.

I ask you what happens if I don’t want to play, if I say no. Your reply, a scornful voice. YOU’LL ALWAYS WANT TO PLAY, MY LITTLE ANNIE, I MADE YOU THAT WAY.

Finally, they return. Skinny first, then June, followed by Mike. Fatty, gone. An early lunch. And this little piggy always had some.

I hear nothing else apart from Skinny’s words.

‘We’ve agreed that if you’re called, you’ll take the stand.’

But instead of satisfaction, it’s a gap I feel, opening up inside me. An empty, lonely place. Nobody can help me now.

A discussion kicks off around how to manage my exposure to press coverage in the run-up to the trial, limit the time I watch the news and listen to the radio. Mike, my monitor. They advise me to keep busy. Some of it I hear, most of it, I don’t.

I’m listening to another voice, one that says:

GAME ON, ANNIE.





8


Mike drops me at Wetherbridge just before morning break. He tells me he’s proud of me, I thank him, wish I could feel the same. As I sign in at the office I realize I forgot to remind him I’m meeting Miss Kemp after school, so I send him a text while I enjoy the last few minutes of quiet in the locker room. No poster greets me today but when I log on to the school email from my laptop – another present from Mike and Saskia – there’s a message from Miss Kemp:

Hi, Milly, really looking forward to our meeting today. Thought we could do some sketching? See you in the art room later.