‘Can’t do what?’ The words are blunt, but Gail’s tone is soft enough for Jess to keep going.
‘I can’t go to court.’
‘Oh, okay, I see.’ Jess imagines Gail’s mind whirring, her hair flaring with the static it causes. ‘I could talk to DS Sawyer,’ she suggests. ‘See if you could give your evidence by video link instead. There are lots of options for child witnesses. Would that be better?’
‘I can’t do any of it, Gail. Court. Telling everyone what I saw. Answering their questions. It was too long ago; I can’t remember anything.’
‘You’ll have a chance to read your statement—’
‘No, Gail. No. I just can’t.’
Gail hesitates. She knows about Jess’s issues with eating, her query anorexia except without a diagnosis because the waiting list to see a specialist is too long. ‘Jess, I’m really sorry,’ she says carefully. ‘But it’s not that easy.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, you’re a witness in a criminal case. You provided a signed statement. The CPS decide whether it goes to court, not you.’
‘What? No!’ Panic rises in Jess’s chest. She pushes up against the headboard. ‘So how do I get out of it?’
‘You’re the only witness,’ Gail reminds her quietly. ‘Without your testimony, I imagine the CPS wouldn’t have a case. I’m sorry, but I don’t think you can get out of it.’
‘But I didn’t see anything!’ Jess blurts out.
A second lapses as Gail catches up. ‘What?’
‘Yes, sorry,’ Jess babbles. ‘I made it all up. I didn’t look through that window at all.’
‘Why would you do that?’ Gail asks. She’s trying to sound calm, but her quivering voice gives her away.
‘I … I don’t know.’
‘Did the boy, Sean Russo, force you to?’
‘What? No. Nothing like that.’ Jess pulls her knees up to her chest; wishes she could fold in on herself so tightly that she disappeared. ‘But I didn’t see anything, so the CPS won’t want me to go to court, will they?’
ONE YEAR BEFORE
Wednesday 17th May 2023
Jess
Jess turns onto her street. She’s feeling so much better already; even school was halfway decent today. When she told Gail last night that she hadn’t seen anything on the afternoon Sean was assaulted, and Gail had reluctantly offered to talk to the police on her behalf, she’d felt giddy with relief. She still couldn’t face normal food, but she’d gone downstairs and asked for some chocolate. Lou had watched on, rapt, as Jess gobbled down a whole Dairy Milk. And Jess had woken up this morning with some energy inside her for the first time in ages.
Lou and Justin’s house is nothing special. Paving slabs at the front, a PVC door, a few windows. Pebbledash on the outside, which Lou hates but Justin says they can’t afford to remove. But it’s home, and Jess feels a sense of peace descend as she slots her key into the lock and turns.
‘Jess, is that you?’ Lou’s voice is tight, stressed, and it stops Jess in her tracks. An image pops up in her mind: a car she didn’t recognise parked right outside the house.
She coughs. ‘Yeah?’
‘Can you come in the kitchen? Gail’s here.’
Jess’s shoulders drop. Didn’t she tell Gail everything she had to say last night? Do they really have to go over it all again face to face?
‘And, um, some police officers,’ Lou adds.
Jess reaches out for the newel post to steady herself. Gail was supposed to deal with it all; she promised that she would. She could run back outside, Jess thinks. But if she did, would they come after her? Tackle her to the ground in front of the neighbours? With a sense of inevitability, she kicks off her scuffed school shoes, and trudges into the kitchen.
The room is too crowded, and Jess instantly feels like she’s suffocating. Their table is supposed to seat four, but it’s always a squash, and that’s with her and Amber still being kids. Now there’s DS Sawyer, DC Blake and Gail all sitting down, plus Lou hovering close to the kettle.
‘Hello, Jess,’ DS Sawyer says, nodding to the empty chair. ‘Do you want to join us?’
No, I want you to leave my house. I want to go to bed and pretend you don’t exist. Jess sinks into the chair. To avoid eye contact, she stares at the garden through the window – a small patch of grass and a rusty trampoline.
‘So I understand you’ve changed your story?’ DS Sawyer starts. There’s an edge to her voice: accusing. She’s not pretending to be nice anymore. ‘Which, to be honest, was quite a shock to hear,’ she goes on. ‘A few weeks before the trial is due to start. So which is it, Jess? Are you scared to go to court, or did you really not see the incident take place?’
Jess keeps her eyes fixed on the window. Amber can do backflips on that trampoline, but she’s always been too scared to try. ‘I didn’t see it,’ she whispers. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘You’re sorry? Did you know that making a false statement is a crime?’ the detective says curtly. ‘And your evidence was critical to this case. There’s no way we’ll get a guilty verdict without your testimony.’
Jess’s eyes sting. It’s not like her to show her emotions, especially not in front of strangers, but she can’t keep them in. She’s tired. She planned to eat lunch in the dinner hall today but there was nothing she liked so she made do with an apple and a packet of Skittles from the tuck shop. ‘I just want it to stop,’ she whispers. She drops her head onto the table. The washing machine is mid-cycle, and she stares at the knickers and T-shirts being flung around the drum.
‘Jess has been through a lot,’ Lou reminds everyone softly. ‘Both a while ago, and more recently. I think the most important thing is to make sure she’s okay.’
Gail sits up taller, maybe realising that was her line. ‘Lou is right. Jess’s wellbeing must come first. If she feels that she made a mistake in her original statement, then we need to accept that.’
‘Let’s not forget, the defendant has always maintained his innocence,’ DC Blake says. ‘Very strenuously. If Jess didn’t see anything, then perhaps he didn’t do it. Maybe our first instinct that Russo picked up his injuries in a street fight – and just blamed Mr Rose because he didn’t like him – was correct all along.’
DS Sawyer stares at Jess, as though trying to drill the truth out with her eyes, but eventually she looks away. ‘Okay, well, I’ll speak to the CPS,’ she says with an air of defeat. ‘And I guess I’ll tell them that I don’t think we should charge Jess with anything,’ she adds begrudgingly. ‘It isn’t really in the public interest.’ She pauses for a moment. ‘But, Jess?’
