A police officer pulled at his elbow, urging him forward, and Daniel jogged the last few steps until he was inside the court. Sebastian had been brought to court in a security van and was waiting in an observation cell downstairs.
When Daniel entered the cell, Sebastian was sitting on a concrete bunk covered with a blue plastic mat. He looked pale. He was wearing a navy suit that was a little big on the shoulders and a striped tie. The outfit made the boy seem even younger than his eleven years.
‘How’s it going, Seb?’ Daniel asked.
‘OK, thanks,’ Sebastian said, looking away.
‘Sharp suit.’
‘My dad wanted me to wear it.’
It was nearly an hour before the trial would begin and Daniel felt sorry for Sebastian – the time he would have to spend in the harsh concrete cell, just waiting. It was hard enough on adults. Sebastian had been shown round the courtroom the day before and proceedings had been explained to him, but nothing could really prepare a child for this.
Daniel sat on the bunk beside Sebastian. They both looked straight ahead at the wall opposite, which was marked with graffiti: obscenities and devotions side by side. Daniel noticed one phrase which had been cut into the concrete with a knife: I love you Mum.
‘Did you go for a run this morning?’ Sebastian asked.
‘I did. Did you get any breakfast?’
‘Yeah.’ Sebastian sighed, looking away again, uninterested.
‘I better go,’ said Daniel, standing up.
‘Daniel?’
‘Yeah?’
‘I’m scared.’
‘You’ll be all right. They showed you where you’ll be sitting? You get to sit next to me, just like we said. Keep your chin up, eh?’
Sebastian nodded and Daniel knocked to be let out.
When the door was closed, Daniel placed a palm against it, and then made his way upstairs to the court.
The judge and barristers wore their gowns, but no wigs, as they were considered too intimidating for children. The public gallery was almost full of journalists and Daniel knew there were many more outside, who had not been able to get in. Arrangements had been made to restrict the number of journalists to ten. The courtroom hummed with anticipation. Daniel took his seat, where he would sit with Sebastian. Irene Clarke and Sebastian’s junior counsel, Mark Gibbons, sat in front.
Sucking his lip, Sebastian was brought in by two police officers. Daniel leaned down and held his shoulder in reassurance. They were all a strange family then, waiting for it to begin.
Sebastian’s mother and father were sitting behind them. Charlotte was wearing a well-cut suit. Kenneth was leaning very far back in his seat, hands folded across his belly. He kept looking at his watch, while Charlotte examined her make-up in a small round mirror and reapplied her lipstick. There was a murmur from the press section of the gallery, but no one else seemed to be talking.
Daniel could hear Sebastian swallow.
The judge entered. Daniel nudged Sebastian’s elbow, prompting him to stand. The court rose and then sat.
Jurors were selected and then sworn in. The chosen ones stared without restraint at Sebastian from across the room. They had read so much about him, but now they could see his face, and would decide his fate.
Benjamin Stokes’s parents were visible in the gallery: Madeline and Paul. They sat side by side, still and heavy, neither offering each other comfort nor watching Sebastian. They also waited, laden with grief, for it to begin.
The judge leaned on the podium and looked over his glasses in the direction of the public gallery.
‘Members of the press, I would like to remind you that until further notice the defendant, Sebastian Croll, will not be referred to by name in all reporting of the trial.’
The consonants in Sebastian’s name seemed to assault the rapt room. Daniel frowned.
The judge slid his glasses further down his nose and directed his gaze at Sebastian.
‘Sebastian, I won’t ask you to stand when I address you, as is our practice in court. You are also seated in the main courtroom, beside your solicitor and with your parents nearby, instead of the dock. Many of our court processes are protracted and may seem confusing to you. I remind you that you have your solicitors and barristers to talk to if there is anything you do not understand.’
Sebastian looked up at Daniel, who put a hand on his back briefly to indicate that he should face the front. Sebastian had already been counselled on how to behave in court.
Irene Clarke stood up, hand on her hip underneath her gown.
‘My lord, there is a point of law I have to raise …’
She had an air of easy authority, speaking the language of the court in received pronunciation.
The court waited as the jury shuffled out: eight men and four women, two young, but the remainder middle-aged. Daniel watched them go.
‘My lord, we would like to make an application for a stay on the grounds that pre-trial publicity has been prejudicial to my client’s case. I present before the court a selection of newspaper cuttings which show the highly emotive language in which the case has been discussed in the press. The saturation coverage of this case has more than likely influenced the jury.’
The judge sighed as he considered the bundle of articles which was passed to him. Daniel had seen this judge before: Philip Baron was one of the oldest remaining on the bench. He had featured in the tabloids himself, following unpopular rulings. He had made headlines for his use of prejudicial language when presiding over rape cases. He looked every bit his sixty-nine years.
The QC for the Crown, Gordon Jones, argued that the jury would not have been prejudiced by the coverage because the defendant had not been named and the main details of the case were not known to the press. The morning disappeared as the articles were considered and discussed. Daniel’s stomach rumbled and he tightened his muscles to suppress it. There was a sense that the whole room was fatigued now. So much anticipation stymied in the wake of bureaucracy. Daniel was used to it, but as Irene fought for Sebastian, he could see that the boy was already bored. He had been drawing pictures: tiny little conjoined wheels on the corner of the notepad. Daniel could hear him sighing and shifting in his chair.
The judge cleared his throat.
‘Thank you, I have considered these points and will rule that the trial will proceed, but I will remind the jury of their duty to consider the facts of the case as presented here in court only. I am, however, mindful of the time, and think this might be a convenient moment to adjourn. We’ll resume after lunch …’
The court session ended and Sebastian was taken back down to his cell.
Irene left court before Daniel could speak to her, so he went down to the cells to see Sebastian. The guard slid back the shutter on the observation window to check on Sebastian’s position before Daniel was allowed in.