You Against Me

It was Stacey Clarke. She walked right past the car, so close her coat brushed the front bumper. She was with her friend from the day of the fight and a couple of other girls from school. They joined the first lot on the steps and they all stood there together. It felt like drumming under Ellie’s skin.

She clawed at the back of her mother’s seat. ‘I’m not going in. I can’t.’

But before her mother could respond, someone tapped on the window.

‘Barry,’ Dad said. ‘About bloody time.’

Ellie had met the solicitor once before. He was short and blond and younger than her father. This morning he’d gelled his hair back in a school‑boy slick and was wearing a suit and tie. He didn’t look as if he could save them.

‘Can I hop in?’ he said.

He got in the back, squashing Ellie into the middle between him and Tom. The car must be hot,  she thought. It must stink of fear and sweat.  The windows were steamed up too. She felt claustrophobic and ashamed.

‘How are we doing?’ Barry said.

‘Fighting fit,’ Dad blustered. ‘We just want to get on with it now.’

‘There are a lot of people here that Tom knows,’ Mum said. ‘We wondered why.’

Barry dismissed the crowd on the steps with a wave of his hand. ‘Ah, I wouldn’t read too much into that. People often think formal hearings will be more interesting than they are. They’ll be bored to tears in five minutes.’

Dad turned round in the front seat and smiled at Tom. ‘You hear that? You simply need to put a legal slant on it. It helps to see through a solicitor’s eyes, eh?’

Tom nodded, but he looked pale and shaken and his eyes were still locked on the crowd at the steps.

‘It’ll probably work in your favour,’ Barry said. ‘The very undramatic procedure will put them all off, so they won’t bother turning up for the big one.’

He launched into a little speech then. He sounded cheery and certain as he wittered on about prosecution statements and lists of evidence and how a trial date would be set for about three months’ time. The barrister was inside, he told them, talking to the judge in his chambers. Ellie imagined them both wearing dressing gowns and slippers and smoking cigars. There would be wigs on a stand and a lollopy dog on a rug.

‘Right,’ Barry said, ‘I think that’s everything. So, are we ready?’

They had to get out of the car and into the glare of the sun that splashed across the car park, they had to walk past the crowd and up the steps.

Tom ran a hand across his head, backwards and forwards. ‘This is it,’ he said. ‘This is actually it.’

‘Yep,’ Dad said.

Barry nodded.

Mum turned round in her seat. ‘Soon be over.’

But her eyes were a tired shade of blue and she didn’t sound convinced.

Ellie wanted rain as she got out of the car. She wanted a low charcoal sky with great dark clouds blotting out the sun and thunder rumbling low above the court house. Instead, the sky was blue with a few drifting clouds the colour of old piano keys. She felt a weight settle on her shoulders and the back of her neck.

In twenty‑five years this will be over,  she thought. I will be far away and no one will remember.

Barry marched ahead with Tom and Dad, as if hurrying would solve anything. Ellie and her mum followed a few paces behind. Ellie touched her mother’s sleeve to slow her down. ‘I’m scared.’

Mum put an arm round her and held her close. Ellie wanted her to say, You know what? We can’t make you do this. It’s not fair, you’re only a kid. Why don’t I take you home?

But she said, ‘Try not to let them bother you. Come on, love, Tom needs us.’

Then she took her arm away, tilted her chin at the crowd and kept right on walking towards them.

In that moment, Ellie realized no one could help her, because every member of her family had to save their strength and resolve for themselves. They were all alone in this, like four separate islands following Barry across the car park.

She felt self‑conscious, as if her legs were spindles, as if her clothes were being judged, as if her body wasn’t coordinated. She slowed right down, hyper‑aware of every movement, every glance, every word from the group of teenagers on the steps. They had an alert energy, as if they were ready to leap. They whispered behind hands, unblinking, nudging each other. Ellie could imagine what they were saying. That’s him, yeah. That’s his mum and dad, and that girl is the sister – yeah, the sister.

Stacey pointed at Tom as he got halfway up the steps. Right at him, as if he was on a TV programme and couldn’t see her.

‘Do you recognize him?’ she said to her friend. ‘You remember him now?’

Ellie stopped completely, sca

OK, she’d have to pretend it wasn’t her family being talked about. Most of these kids were from Tom’s college – she didn’t know them and they didn’t know her and she’d never see them again after today and they’d get bored if she didn’t react. She simply had to walk past them, it wasn’t so bad. Tom was through the doors, so were Barry and Dad, and no one had lynched them. Mum was going through now, and apart from a couple of sneers, she got safely inside.

But Ellie felt as if she was stumbling, as if her shoes didn’t fit and she’d fall. Her cheeks were stained with shame and she hated it. She wanted a blanket to hide under, like in the movies. As she put her foot on the first step, Stacey put her leg out, not to trip her, but to stop her.

‘Hey, bitch,’ she said.

‘Leave me alone.’

‘Don’t you want to ask me how Karyn is today?’

‘I just want to get past.’

‘Don’t you want to tell me how sorry you are again?’

Ellie stepped to one side, but Stacey moved in front of her. ‘She’s still refusing to see her friends, you know. She’s still totally terrified.’

‘Please, I have to go in.’

Stacey shook her head. ‘If your paedo brother pleads not guilty today, she’s go

‘I don’t know.’

‘You want to give it some thought?’

Someone in the crowd giggled. Why were there no adults? Why were there only kids? Stacey stared at her. ‘I’m asking you again – why did you tell the cops you never saw anything?’

Ellie stared right back. The building in front of her swung, and still she couldn’t let go of Stacey’s gaze.

‘Leave it,’ her mate said. ‘She’s not worth it.’

Stacey looked Ellie up and down, as if she was checking that was true, then dismissed her with a flick of her eyes. The crowd laughed, loud jeering laughter, right at her as she ran up the rest of the steps and through the doors.

Barry had said it was court number two. She saw a sign, ran past the reception desk and up the stairs. She heard whispering behind her from people coming through the doors and following her up. But it was all right, because there, on the top landing, was her mother. Ellie ran to her, clutched at her arm and pulled herself close.

‘Mum!’

‘Ellie, don’t grab me. I’m talking to someone, can’t you see? This is Mr Grigson, Tom’s barrister.’

There was reverence in her voice as she waved her hand at the barrister, as if to say, Isn’t he amazing with his black cloak and his white wig and his important bundle of paperwork?

Mr Grigson nodded at Ellie as if he’d seen hundreds of girls like her already that morning. He didn’t even say hello.

‘Mum?’

‘Ellie, I’m talking.’

‘But Mum, I want‑’

‘If you need the toilet, it’s there – look. Be quick though, we’re about to go in.’

So, how could she say, Mum, I want you to take care of me?

The crowd was pressing up the stairs. Ellie couldn’t bear to meet Stacey again.