Reluctant Consent Read online

  Reluctant

  Consent

  Margaret

  Barnes

  Published by Scribbling Advocate in 2018

  Copyright © Margaret Barnes 2018

  First Edition

  The author asserts the moral right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work.

  ISBN 978-1-9164471-3-4

  The novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persona, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system without the prior consent of the author, nor be circulated in any form of binding or cover than that in which is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser

  The cover design is by Berni Stevens @bernistevensdesign.com.

  The photograph is of Middle Temple Lane London.

  Acknowledgements

  This second Cassie Hardman novel has taken considerable time to come to fruition partly because of the delicacy of the subject matter – a trial for rape. The case described in these pages is entirely fictitious but it draws on a number of similar trials in which I defended the accused.

  I would like to thank a number of people who read the first and subsequent drafts. They include Diane Riddell, Michael McCormick, Maggie Harkness and her writing group. I would particularly thank Marila Hargreaves who read, commented and edited the early drafts. Kate McCormick again acted as my writing buddy and contributed her usual pithy comments.

  I found a lawyer Lesley Jones of ‘perfecttheword’ who did the final edit on my novel and I am grateful for her work in making this as good as it is. All the mistakes are mine.

  Again I want to thank my husband Alan Taylor for his forbearance and support.

  Margaret Barnes

  Chapter 1

  9th May R v Sadler

  The Old Bailey. Court 12. Light wood panelling, green leather under the harsh glare of lights flickering subliminally. The faint smell of yesterday’s aftershave. On the wall behind the judge’s elevated bench was a stylised version of the royal coat of arms: the lion and unicorn overseeing the proceedings with sardonic eyes. For the lawyers in the room, including Cassie Hardman, all this was familiar, their place of work. For witnesses and jurors it must have been intimidating.

  The trial of Paul Sadler for the offence of rape had started with the jury being sworn in and prosecuting counsel opening the case to the seven women and five men. Their ages ranged from early twenties to late sixties. The eldest was a woman; she was casually dressed in a cardigan and round-necked T-shirt, nothing very expensive. The youngest was a slender male, a stud in one ear and a permanent grin. Cassie wondered what he would make of the case, whose side would he be on. There were a couple of women in their late twenties, possibly early thirties. They were likely to believe a woman wouldn’t allege she had been raped unless it was true.

  Once the screens were in place and the court had reassembled, Emma Gilbrook took her place in the witness box. Gone was the gleaming girl of the selfies taken with Cassie’s client; the young woman before the court looked much younger. Her tawny blonde hair was scraped back into a ponytail. She wore no make-up and her eyes were red rimmed. Cassie felt a finger of ice stroke her as she looked at the witness, knowing, as she did, she would have to call into question the woman’s credibility.

  Hugh was good with vulnerable witnesses. Cassie assumed it was that ability to treat them gently that accounted for him being instructed in cases where victims made allegations of sexual assault. He was the same outside the courtroom, although he had been terse with her when she requested some further enquiries should be made.

  ‘Miss Gilbrook, can you tell the court your full name, please?’ he said.

  ‘Emma Gilbrook.’

  ‘And do you live in North Kensington with your mother, Rose?’

  ‘Yes. I do.’

  ‘Can you look at this please. Exhibit one, My Lord. It’s a copy of the Metro newspaper dated twenty-third of February. At the bottom of that page there is a section called “Rush Hour Crush”.’

  Emma Gilbrook turned the newspaper over and stared at the page. She pointed a well-manicured finger painted with dark purple nail polish towards it.

  ‘Do you recognise one of the messages?’

  ‘I do. The one from the man in the grey suede jacket. I’d been at Holland Park station with a garment bag the day before. Taking a gown to a client.’

  ‘Quite. You recognised the description of yourself?’

  ‘And the man. The station wasn’t very busy and I realised somebody was looking at me. I looked up and saw this man watching me. I smiled at him.’

  ‘Why did you do that?’

  ‘I … I think I was flattered by his attention. He was handsome … well dressed. A well-cut jacket. I notice that kind of thing.’

  ‘Did he respond?’

  ‘I think he took a step forward, but the train came. He wasn’t in the same carriage as me. I went to my appointment and didn’t think anything of it.’

  ‘When you saw the message in the newspaper, what did you decide to do?’

  ‘I thought it was quite funny at first. I told my friend Anita …’

  ‘That’s Anita Connor?’

  ‘Anita. Yes. I told her the man was very attractive and it might be fun to contact him. She wasn’t sure but said to keep him to coffee and cake.’

  ‘As the message suggests. Did you do that?’

  ‘I contacted him through the newspaper and think he responded by text. I’d said I’d meet him for coffee and he suggested that Saturday at the café in Holland Park. I was happy with that. It’s very public, lots of mums with their kids, dog walkers, lots of people around.’

  ‘So, you met there. How did the meeting go?’

  ‘Good. We had coffee. Talked a lot.’ She nodded. ‘I thought he was good company. He made me laugh.’

  ‘Did he talk about himself?’

  ‘He told me he lived with a relative, an aunt, I think, in Ealing. His parents were separated and his mother had remarried. He didn’t get on with his stepdad. And I think he said his father lived abroad.’

  ‘Did he say where he worked?’

  ‘He told me he was on the ground staff at Heathrow.’

  ‘And his age?’’

  ‘He said twenty-nine.’

  ‘Did you tell him how old you were?’

  Emma looked down. ‘I told him I was twenty-four.’

  ‘That wasn’t true was it?’

  ‘No, I’m twenty, but I wanted him to think I was older.’ She paused. ‘I don’t know why.’

  Hugh Palmer alternated between reading the papers in front of him and glancing at the witness, looking over his glasses which were perched on the end of his nose. Cassie took another mint from the packet on the bench in front of her and observed the jury. There seemed to be very little reaction to the admission by Emma that she had lied. Probably too early in the trial.

  ‘Was there any physical contact between you?’

  ‘Not really. A peck on the cheek when we parted. Actually I’m not sure about that.’

  ‘Did you meet Sadler again?’ Hugh asked.

  ‘I think about five, possibly six days later. Must have been Thursday. I was working the next day.’

  ‘Where did you meet?’

  ‘We went to a pizza place on the Gate.’

  ‘How did the evening go?’

  ‘I enjoyed it. As I said he made me laugh. Telling stories about work and things like that. Travellers making strange requests, that kind of thing.’
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  ‘Did you have any alcohol with the meal?’

  ‘I didn’t but I think Paul had a beer.’

  ‘Who paid for the meal?’

  ‘We shared the bill. He paid a bit more because of the beer.’

  ‘Was there any physical contact between you this time?’

  ‘He walked me to the bus stop and we held hands. He stayed with me until the bus came. Gave me a hug and a kiss on the cheek as we parted.’

  ‘Did you arrange to meet again?’

  ‘No, we didn’t. Not then. He said he’d text me.’

  ‘Did he?’

  ‘At the weekend. He suggested we went out for dinner at Kensington Place. I told him I couldn’t afford it. That’s when he said it was his treat.’

  ‘You went to the restaurant and had a meal there. Did you have anything to drink, any alcohol?’

  ‘We had a glass of wine each. It’s expensive.’

  ‘Sadler was paying?’

  ‘I did offer to pay my share, but he insisted he’d invited me and he was going to pay.’

  ‘Was there any physical contact in the restaurant?’

  Emma Gilbrook put a hand across her mouth and her voice dropped. ‘We held hands across the table while we waited for the bill.’

  ‘Do you know what time it was when you got the bill?’

  ‘Quite late. After eleven, I think.’

  ‘Were you working the next day?’

  ‘I should have been. I should have gone home.’ She took out a handkerchief and blew her nose. Hugh waited and then asked her why she had not.

  ‘I wanted to take Paul to meet my friend Anita, so I suggested we went to her flat.’

  ‘Had you told her you might go and see her?’

  ‘I had mentioned it. It wasn’t definite … I didn’t know if he would.’ She was pulling at the corner of the handkerchief she was still holding in her left hand.

  ‘Was Anita there?’

  ‘No. I have a key so I let us in. I thought she’d be back soon.’

  ‘What did you do when you were in the flat?’

  ‘I hung up my coat and went to make us some coffee. While I did that Paul had taken his jacket off and hung it over the back of a chair. I said I didn’t think it would be long before Anita got back. We sat down on the sofa and …’ Emma looked around the courtroom and then asked if she could have a drink of water. The usher handed her a glass and she took a sip.

  ‘Do you want a break? It’s nearly time for the luncheon adjournment. Mr Palmer, I assume Miss Gilbrook’s evidence will take a little while yet,’ said Judge Tyte.

  ‘I don’t think we will complete her evidence before lunch, My Lord.’

  ‘I thought not. I think we’ll break now. Miss Gilbrook, it’s better that we hear the rest of your evidence in one session. Do you understand?’

  Emma Gilbrook nodded and stepped out of the witness box.

  ‘Right, members of the jury, can we start at one forty-five? Does that inconvenience anyone?’ The judge didn’t wait for a reply.

  Cassie had spent the short adjournment trying to dismiss from her mind the witness’s obvious distress. Sometimes she hated her job. She would not have liked the most intimate part of her own life being examined in the way this young woman’s was, and it was going to get worse.

  Hugh recommenced his examination in chief by reminding Emma Gilbrook how far she had got with her evidence. ‘You were sitting side by side on the sofa, and what happened then?’

  ‘We drank our coffee and then Paul put his arm round me and kissed me on the lips.’

  ‘Did you respond?’

  Emma bent her head. ‘Yes.’ Her voice was a whisper. ‘We kissed and cuddled each other and then …’

  ‘And then? Tell us in your own words what happened.’

  ‘He put his hands between my legs. I pushed his hand away and said no.’

  ‘What were you wearing?’

  ‘Jeans and a silk blouse I’d borrowed from work.’

  ‘Did he touch you over or under your clothes?’

  ‘At first over my clothes. He touched my breasts.’

  ‘Did you object to that?’

  ‘No. I should have. Then he undid one of the buttons on my blouse and pushed his hand onto my breast and played with the nipple. I think I said not to. I can’t remember really.’

  ‘Did you stay in the living room?’

  ‘After a little while he stood up and took hold of my hand and pulled me towards Anita’s bedroom. There’s only one.’

  ‘Did you want to go into the bedroom?’

  ‘I kind of hung back. I didn’t pull away from him. Went more slowly.’ Emma dropped her voice and began to search in the pocket of the jacket she was wearing. Cassie could see she was on the verge of tears. The usher rushed forward with a box of tissues and handed one to the witness. Hugh turned towards the jury and waited, allowing them to absorb how upset Emma was.

  ‘What happened in the bedroom?’

  ‘We lay on the bed. Then …’ Emma’s fists were gripping the side of the witness box. ‘He got on top of me, took my jeans off. He …’ She began to cry.

  ‘Take your time. If you want a break just say so,’ Judge Tyte said.

  Emma blew her nose with the remains of the tissue. Cassie tapped her fingers on her thigh; the memory of her own experiences nudged at her thoughts. She pushed them away to concentrate on the witness.

  ‘He put his hand between my legs and his fingers into my vagina. I told him to stop.’

  ‘Did he remove his hand?’

  ‘Yes, he did.’

  ‘And then?’

  ‘He unbuttoned my blouse. I took it off – I had borrowed it from work and I didn’t want it spoilt. He undid my bra and I took that off too. He kissed my breasts and then he put his hand between my thighs and his fingers in my vagina. He asked me if that was alright. He asked if I was enjoying it.’

  ‘Did you reply?’

  ‘I couldn’t say anything. I realised his penis was hard. He unzipped his trousers. I knew he was going to penetrate me.’

  ‘Is that what happened?’

  ‘Yes … not immediately. He removed his trousers and underpants. Then he told me to stay there and he went into the sitting room. When he came back he had a condom packet with him. He opened it and … he couldn’t get it on.’

  ‘Where was he while he was doing that?’

  ‘By the bed.’

  ‘Was he holding you in any way?’

  ‘He was struggling with the condom. I helped him put it on.’

  ‘You helped him put it on. Why?’

  ‘I knew we were going to have sex. Taking precautions …’ Emma mumbled the next few words until Cassie heard ‘… was sensible.’

  ‘Did you agree to have sexual intercourse with him?’

  ‘I didn’t want to.’

  ‘Did you have intercourse with him?’

  Emma nodded, her eyes fixed on some point on the other side of the room, somewhere above the heads of the jurors.

  ‘What happened afterwards?’

  ‘We lay side by side. He went into the bathroom, came back and lay down next to me. He put his arms round me and pulled me on top of him. I realised he had put another condom on. I had one leg either side of his body. He put his penis inside me. We had sex again.’

  ‘Did you agree to having sex with him on this second occasion?’

  ‘I didn’t agree … I didn’t want to have sex with him.’

  ‘What was the next thing that happened?’

  ‘I got dressed. I told him I expected Anita would be back soon and he should get dressed as well.’

  ‘Did he?’

  ‘He put his clothes on while I straightened the duvet and plumped up the pillows. We went into the sitting room and almost straight away Anita arrived. I introduced them and we chatted for a few minutes. He said he’d better go. I said I wanted to stay for a few minutes with Anita.’

  ‘How long did you stay at Anita’s?’

>   ‘About half an hour.’

  ‘Did you say anything to her about what had just happened?’

  ‘I felt too embarrassed. We’d been in her bed.’

  ‘You went home. Tell the court what happened the next morning.’

  ‘I overslept. My boss rang and told my mum about the blouse. She came in and asked me where I’d been and I told her I’d been raped. She called the police.’

  Judge Tyte said, ‘You’ve been giving evidence for quite some time now and I think we’ll start cross examination tomorrow morning.’

  Chapter 2

  Cassie had spent a restless night, her thoughts hopscotching between the questions she needed to ask Emma Gilbrook the next day and the events fifteen years before that had caused the final rift between her and her husband. But, once in the courthouse, she dismissed all thoughts of her ex-husband and concentrated on preparing for the day ahead. In the Bar Mess she saw Marcus Pike, who had led her in the Barker case. ‘You look a little down, Cassie.’

  ‘I’ve got a rape case. I really hate doing them. What’s more, the evidence against this guy is slim. He should be acquitted but …’

  ‘Prejudice – does he look like a rapist? I read somewhere about “fair labelling” – that’s what makes the difference. Will he come across as a bully in the witness box? Or very arrogant. Whatever the jury thinks makes a rapist. Do you remember a case where the man said something to the effect that he’d paid for the tickets to a dinner and because of that he thought she would consent to having sex with him?’

  ‘I’m not sure …’

  ‘It’s a silly comment like that from a defendant that can get them convicted. I was the junior in that case. Until he said that in the witness box, I thought he’d be acquitted. One of the advantages of Silk, one doesn’t get instructed in rape trials anymore. Anyway, you girls are so much better at them.’

  ‘We get instructed in them too much,’ Cassie retorted.

  ‘Who’s your judge?’

  ‘Tyte.’