Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Nemesis: Soulmates Never Die - 7. Chapter Seven: Scene of the Crime
Scene of the crime, a friend or a foe. I got a body to hide, I got a body on show. And with our bodies entwined we will know paradise.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Scene of the Crime
‘I think I should sing!’ Matt grinned. He played the bass line for Dull in double time and began shouting out the lyrics of the second verse. ‘I’VE BEEN TRYING FOR OH, SO LONG TO MAKE THESE FEELINGS FOR YOU DISAPPEAR!’ Stuart chimed in with angry, hard punk drumming.
Nick laughed. ‘Fuck’s sake, stop faffing about, you guys! We’ve got to learn this properly!’
‘Spoilsport!’ said Matt with a mock pout. ‘Fine, from the top then.’
Nick began playing the guitar intro, but then his mobile rang in his pocket and he cut himself off.
‘Sorry, guys,’ he said, pulling the phone out. ‘It’s my sister, I should take this.’
Stuart folded his arms across his chest. ‘Turn your mobile off next rehearsal,’ he said. ‘We have to get this right.’
‘Says you.’ Nick rolled his eyes and put the phone to his ear. ‘Yeah?’
‘Hey,’ said Zoë. ‘Listen, I got a phone call today, from the Crown Prosecution Service. The Crown Court trial’s been scheduled. It’s three weeks from now. They want us to come in for a meeting tomorrow, to discuss procedures and testimonies and everything.’
Nick felt as though he’d been drenched in cold water. For a moment he couldn’t breathe, or think. It was finally happening. So why did he suddenly feel so utterly terrified? He was quiet for a long time.
‘Nick?’ said Zoë’s voice.
‘Yeah.’ Nick cleared his throat. ‘I have the audition for the Christmas show coming up. There are rehearsals . . .’
‘If the trial crashes with the audition, I’m sure we can sort something out,’ said Zoë softly. ‘Nick, this is important.’
‘I know that,’ said Nick quickly. ‘Look, we’ll talk about it when I get home, all right?’
‘All right. Bye.’
‘Bye.’ Nick hung up and stared at his mobile for a few seconds.
‘Come on, then,’ said Stuart impatiently. ‘Time to get back to it, eh? Time’s a-wasting!’
Nick nodded and slipped his mobile back in his pocket. ‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘I’m ready.’
None of Nick’s friends knew exactly what had happened with Craig. Windfield Green wasn’t a big town, people knew he’d been arrested, but they didn’t know exactly for what. Nick’s friends knew that Craig had hurt him, but not to which extent. It wasn’t that Nick was embarrassed. It was more that he didn’t want people asking questions. He had told his story enough times. To Dave, to Zoë, to the police, to his psychologist Evan, and to the CPS that summer, when his evidence had been filmed for use in the Magistrate’s court.
He wasn’t keen on giving his evidence again.
* * *
When Dave arrived at Nick’s house that evening, he was met with a quiet and fierce hug. Nick pressed his forehead to Dave’s collarbone and Dave put his arms around him in turn.
‘Hey, what’s up?’ he asked softly. ‘You okay?’
‘The dates for the trial have been set,’ Nick murmured.
‘Oh.’ Dave hugged his boyfriend tighter. ‘When is it?’
‘End of the month. We’re going to the court house for a meeting with the CPS people tomorrow.’
Dave nodded and kissed the top of his head.
‘I’m scared.’
‘What are you scared of?’ Dave asked, loosening his grip and stepping back slightly so he could see Nick’s face. He was ashen faced, and his grey eyes darted this way and that.
‘I dunno . . . Everything.’ Nick let out a shaky breath. ‘It’s like everything suddenly just became so real, you know? It’s happening. This is all happening and I just . . . I dunno.’ He fell silent, and his restless gaze came to an uneasy halt somewhere in the vicinity of Dave’s throat. ‘Let’s go to my room.’
They scaled the steps to the first floor and went inside Nick’s bedroom. Then they sat down on the bed and Nick curled up as close to Dave as he could get.
Dave wanted to reassure him. He wanted to tell him that everything would be fine, that it would all be over soon, but he didn’t know how to say it, and soon he was being smothered in Nick’s kisses, pushed down into the bed so Nick could climb on top of him and take what he needed. That was fine. It was all fine. Whatever Nick needed right now, he could have. Dave was happy to give it to him.
Afterward, Nick lay naked in his arms, tracing the lines of his collarbones with his fingertips.
‘I’d change places with you if I could,’ Dave whispered. ‘So you wouldn’t have to feel this way, I would. I’d . . . But you won’t have to go through it alone, okay? Anything I can do, I will.’ He cupped Nick’s chin and nudged his head up so their eyes could meet. ‘Okay? Anything. I love you.’ He kissed him.
‘Can you stay tonight?’ Nick asked quietly. ‘I don’t want to sleep alone.’
‘Of course,’ said Dave at once. ‘I’ll have to leave early, though.’
‘That’s fine. Thank you.’ Nick buried his face in Dave’s chest, taking a few deep breaths. ‘I love you.’
* * *
Nick’s CPS caseworker was a short, middle aged woman named Elizabeth Parish. She shook hands with both him and Zoë and led them to the meeting room, where Detective Sergeant Richard Javelin of the Windfield Green police, a CPS lawyer named Philip Knutowski and Joshua Butler, the prosecution barrister, were waiting.
‘All right, Nick?’ said D.S. Javelin, smiling. Javelin had handled Nick’s case from the beginning, and was definitely the good sort. He had treated Nick with decency and compassion from the word go and it was largely due to his tireless efforts that they had been able to charge Craig in the first place.
Nick and Zoë shook hands with Javelin and with the other two men, and then they all sat down around an oval table.
‘Now, Nick, because you are a minor,’ Elizabeth told him, ‘and because of the nature of the crime, special measures will be put in place for you to give your evidence. We want you to feel safe. You can deliver your evidence by video link or even a pre-recorded video statement, or we can set up screens around the witness box in the court room.’
‘I don’t want any special measures,’ said Nick immediately. It was something he had thought of a lot, since the decision had been made to prosecute in the Crown court.
‘What?’ Zoë put a hand on his arm. ‘Sweet, think about this. Craig is going to be in the court room. He’ll be able to see you and you’ll be able to see him.’
‘I know,’ said Nick. He drew a shaky breath. ‘I know that. I just . . .’
‘According to testimony given by your psychologist, you are most likely suffering from post-traumatic stress,’ said Elizabeth kindly. ‘Facing your aggressor could be very triggering for you.’
Nick chewed his bottom lip thoughtfully and then looked her in the eye. ‘Evan’s told me I should face my demons. I don’t want to be afraid of Craig for the rest of my life. And I think that facing me will—’ Nick looked down at his hands. They were shaking. ‘I think it’ll be just as unpleasant for him as it will be for me. And I want him to know that he hasn’t won. That he has no power over me.’
Philip Knutowski nodded. ‘We’ll take your wishes into consideration when and if we apply for any special measures,’ he said. ‘Either way, the court will probably be closed to the public in a case like this. Now, your case will be presided over by the right honourable judge Lydia Stumer. She is very professional and has presided over many cases such as yours. Additionally, there will be a jury made up of twelve men and women, members of the public. You will be giving your evidence to Mr. Butler, and then you will be cross examined by the defence’s lawyer, Mr. Bligh. Any questions?’
Nick shook his head.
‘Good, good. The prosecution only has two other witnesses to call so far. You, Miss Davis, and . . .’ He leafed through his papers. ‘Mr. David Thompson?’
* * *
‘No, you will not give evidence in this case!’ Dave’s father roared and banged his fist on his desk. ‘I absolutely forbid it!’
Dave sat calmly in his seat and stared his father down while he ranted. The official letter from the Crown Prosecution Service calling him in as a witness lay opened on the desk. ‘Finished?’ he asked, when silence fell. ‘Since I’m seventeen years old, and since withholding evidence is a criminal offence, you can’t actually stop me. I gave evidence to the police last spring. This isn’t your call anymore.’ He scoffed. ‘I thought you were supposed to be the lawyer here.’
George Thompson glared at his son. ‘You keep disobeying me—’
‘Because you’re utterly unreasonable!’ Dave interrupted him. ‘Isn’t justice meant to be served? Craig has committed a crime. It’s as simple as that. A horrible, heinous crime. I’m helping him get his just dessert. No more, no less. How can you possibly be against that?’ He leaned across the table and lowered his voice. ‘You should count yourself lucky that neither of us has mentioned to any authority person what happened when you came home from Lanzarote. Very lucky.’
His father’s eyes narrowed. ‘Are you attempting to threaten me?’
‘Wouldn’t dream of it.’ Dave stood up. ‘Are we done here? I have homework.’
He walked purposefully out of his father’s study and up the stairs. He had meant what he had said the night before. If he could change places with Nick he would do so in a heartbeat. No way was he going to abandon him now. He would do whatever it took and stay by his side every step of the way. He wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if he didn’t, he realised, and somehow the thought gave him strength.
On the landing outside his bedroom stood his mother. She looked him up and down, her expression unreadable. ‘You’re really doing this, then?’
‘Yes,’ said Dave defiantly. ‘Of course I am!’
She nodded. ‘I don’t suppose he told you, but your father’s firm is handling the case for the defence. He declined being directly involved, and Spencer wouldn’t have been able to afford him anyway, but . . . Seems his father is spending most of his pension on helping him out. They gave it to Leonard Bligh. I’ve met him. Seen him in court, too. When he cross examines you, answer his questions head on. Don’t embellish. Anything else you say, if he can he will twist it and use it to his advantage. And if he asks questions that seem irrelevant or pointless, don’t answer them at all. If the prosecution barrister is any kind of lawyer at all, he’ll object to any such questions straight away.’ She gave her son a look that could almost have been pride.
‘Thank you,’ said Dave quietly, and he meant it.
‘I . . .’ She seemed to hesitate. ‘If you’d like me to come with you . . .’
‘That’s all right,’ said Dave hurriedly. ‘I’ll be fine. Zoë will be there. I mean, unless you really want to . . .’ He trailed off, feeling suddenly deeply uncomfortable. When was the last time his mother had offered to do anything for him?
‘No, that’s good. She seems like a capable individual.’ With that, his mother walked away down the stairs and Dave was left feeling both confused and slightly moved. Perhaps she did care for him, after all.
* * *
It was with a lump in his throat and a sick, nervous feeling in the pit of his stomach that Nick arrived at college the following day. He waited until their rehearsal that afternoon to share the frankly dismal news with his bandmates.
Matt and Stuart both stared at him in disbelief once the words were out.
‘What do you mean, you won’t be here the days of the audition?’ Stuart asked incredulously.
‘I’m sorry,’ said Nick. ‘I really am, but it’s a scheduled court date. It can’t exactly be moved.’ The idea that this whole clusterfuck of a situation would affect his band and his friendships made Nick slightly sick to his stomach, and renewed the anger he felt for Craig. His actions continued to affect Nick’s life, in more ways than one. In the past couple of days, his nightmares had only gotten worse again. He needed this to end.
‘What’s it all for, anyway?’ asked Stuart.
Nick looked away and licked his lips. ‘I was assaulted,’ he said quietly. ‘By my sister’s fiancé, last year.’
The room was quiet for several seconds.
‘Well done, Stuart! Christ, learn some tact, won’t you?’ said Matt. Putting his bass down, he stood and gave Nick a hug. ‘It’s fine. We’ll figure something out. Maybe they’ll let us audition on another day. These are pretty special circumstances.’
‘Yeah, I was thinking I’d go ask,’ said Nick. ‘I mean, college administration’s been informed. How hard can it be? Now, let’s run through these songs a few times, eh?’ He forced a smile. ‘We’re gonna rock that Christmas show, right?’
* * *
‘So, the CPS people contacted me to get my opinion with regards to you appearing in court in the flesh, as it were,’ said Evan. ‘I thought I should talk to you before I get back to them. Is that the way you want to do it? No screens or anything?’
Nick nodded. ‘I want to face him.’
‘Why?’
Nick sighed heavily and rubbed the bridge of his nose, glancing at the window. Grey clouds were gathering out there. ‘The dreams aren’t really getting any better,’ he said softly. ‘The only thing that’s changed is that I’m used to them. Sometimes, when Dave sleeps over, I go a whole night without them, but usually, even then . . .’ He looked at Evan, who had his head cocked to one side and his tongue between his lips, surveying him. ‘I want to be able to sleep through the night without seeing him. You said I should face my fears head on. So, that’s what I’m doing.’
Evan nodded. ‘Well, I’ll try to be there, and I’ll give you any support I can. If this is really how you want to deal with this, and if you feel like it will make you better, then I’ll recommend that they let you. We can’t be sure that they will, of course. It’s standard procedure to put the victim behind a screen if they’re underage or if they’re a victim of sexual assault. You’re both. And you are still experiencing a degree of post-traumatic stress.’
‘I know. I just don’t want him to win. If I just face this, I feel like it’ll all be over afterwards. That’ll be the end of it. You know?’
‘Yes. I know what you mean. I just want you to be certain.’
‘I am certain,’ said Nick quietly. ‘I want this to be over.’
- 17
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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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