Embrace You: Book (Loneliness) (9 page)

The defense attorney begins the defense portion of the criminal trial for Cara. All throughout, he tries to allude to parental neglect and even abuse, saying that Cara's actions were all due to the lack of loving parental care in her childhood.

Oh, boo-hoo! I call balderdash. What he's not saying is that Cara was warned, repeatedly, that her actions constituted stalking. She kept stalking my husband. Listen, I may be only 22 years old, but I damn sure know what "stalking" is. And she damn sure stalked Marcus!

When I hear the defense attorney's assertions and excuses, I really have to work to keep a neutral facial expression. I watch Marcus' hand, which tightens when he hears the excuses.

Cara is called to the witness stand and is walked through her testimony. She talks about how she first noticed Marcus in school - her accounting sounds like a bad romance novel.

"I was a school girl in secondary school. I was fat and the kids didn't notice me. They ignored me, so when I saw Marcus and his beautiful, kind green eyes, I liked him immediately. I saw that he was kind to all the kids, even me. I dropped a book. And...and he picked it up and returned it to me. Nobody else would even acknowledge my presence, but Marcus! He gave me back my book! Then we graduated and lost touch. I don't know where he went to university. I went on to vocational school, where I earned my certificate in cooking for large groups. Then, I saw Marcus' name in the paper. He'd married some musical star. Well, it was easy to find out where he'd be, so I bought a ticket for one of the concerts. That's when the police made contact with me - I honestly don't know why! All I wanted to do was to see Marcus, not do any harm to him! Uh, or to his kid. I was able to find where he lived by visiting the public works office. That's when I showed up across the street from his flat. And, when I saw what he drove, it was just that simple to follow him to the store, to the studio, just everywhere."

"What was your motivation in taking his baby?"

"I just wanted a chance to talk to him and get to know him again. That's all. I figured, 'Well, if I have the baby, he'll have to seek me out.'

My blood chills when I hear this and I clasp my arms around me, trying to restore my body's warmth.

Marcus sees this and he wraps his arm around me.

Cara looks up just then and, as she spots Marcus' arm wrapped around me, her eyebrows go down and she glowers heavily at me. Marcus, spotting this, tightens his arm around me.

The defense attorney sees Cara's glower and spins around, looking for its source. When he spots us, he turns back around, casting about for a way to get Cara to stop focusing so strongly on me. Too late!

"You bitch! You stole him from me! He was supposed to be mine! Skinny little whore! What'd you do? Focus your eyes on him and open your legs for him?" Cara launches into a shrill tirade against me.

As I hear her hatred and vitriol, I freeze once again. I push into Marcus' side, trying to get away from Cara's hatred.

Marcus' arms both tighten around me as the magistrate orders Cara to be removed from the court room. We continue to hear her spitting obscenities, screeching and ranting as the guards remove her.

Both attorneys walk to the magistrate's bench, where they confer. Cara's attorney points at Marcus and me. The prosecuting attorney looks at us as well, then appears to lay into Cara's attorney.

"I think her attorney is trying to make a case for Cara losing it because I put my arm around you", Marcus murmurs into my ear.

In answer, I wrap my arm around Marcus' back, still needing the comfort of his arm around me.

Apparently, the magistrate agrees. Cara's attorney leaves the bench, shaking his head sharply. He then calls me to the stand.

"Mrs. Hadley, I hadn't intended to call you to the stand until tomorrow, the earliest. Will you tell the court, please, what you felt when your daughter - Liz - "

"Sir! We had agreed that we would not mention the child's name during trial!" the prosecuting barrister yells.

"So we did. Sir, if you try to utter the child's name one more time, you will join your client - behind bars."

Cara's attorney glowers, but he knows the magistrate's words are serious. He gives a huge, put-upon sigh and repeats his question, this time without uttering my daughter's name.

"I was petrified. I had been seeing your client all over Saint Albans, following my family and me, focusing on and stalking my husband. We had been doing everything we could to protect our child and each other, even moving house from his flat to a temporary residence before we bought our home."

"So, when you saw her holding your baby and running?"

"I thought I would never see my child again."

"Can you see that, in my client's mind, this was the only way for her to gain access to speak to Mr. Hadley? That, very possibly, she intended no harm?"

When I hear this, it is very difficult for me to control my facial expression, let alone my reaction! I want to jump over the witness stand and bury my fingernails in that man's throat. I swallow hard and sit on top of my hands. Looking at Marcus, I see that he is equally angry and disturbed.

"Sir, she isn't answering."

"Sir, that's quite possibly because a young woman who witnesses her infant being kidnapped may have difficulty seeing into the mind and motivations of the kidnapper," says the prosecuting barrister. "I object to that question."

"I quite agree. Miss - Mrs. Hadley, you do not need to answer that question," says the magistrate.

My breath leaks out of me. I relax marginally, preparing for the next inane question.

"Sir, can I see whether my client is able to come back into court?"

"Yes. If she so much as looks at the Hadleys, she will be going back into a jail cell. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir." He goes out with the guards and returns minus Cara. "She is still very...highly upset," he reports.

In fact, Cara doesn't return to the trial until the next morning. When she walks in, she is still scowling heavily.

Marcus, sitting next to me, scoots just a little bit closer protectively, but he doesn't wrap his arm around me.

I have brought my writing pad and a pen. While Cara resumes testifying, I doodle musical notes on it as I listen.

Her testimony is a recounting of the lack of parenting she received, as she and her attorney strive to paint her as a neglected near-orphan. After she is dismissed back to the witness table, her attorney brings up the question that has been hanging so heavily over the trial - just what is her mental health diagnosis?

"Sir, my client underwent a court-ordered psychological evaluation shortly after her arrest, as is customary in such cases. In truth, I did not anticipate that she would have a diagnosis - but she does. My client has been diagnosed with narcissistic personality disorder, borderline personality disorder, and a schizoaffective disorder. Given these diagnoses, it is eminently clear that she is not able to appreciate the solemnity of the actions she took. I will be petitioning the court for a 'not guilty' so she might be housed in a psychiatric hospital.

As I hear the multiple diagnoses, my eyes widen. This time, however, I simply freeze where I am. I don't scoot any closer to Marcus and I don't look up. However, I sense that he is looking at me, so I turn my gaze to his.

Marcus is looking pale and scared. Gesturing for my pen and pad, he writes down his thoughts.

Those are serious conditions! She must not be allowed out of jail because she will continue to come after us. I want to confer with the barrister and tell him this.

I begin writing.

Don't you think it would be better if we testified to our feelings and thoughts about her mental health diagnoses? At least then, it's in the record and she might actually get prison time.

Marcus resumed writing.

That's true. Let's ask if we can testify again.

My turn.

Okay.

We continued listening as Cara's defense attorney tried his damndest to get the magistrate to consider not sentencing Cara to prison. Then, the magistrate calls Marcus to the stand.

"Mr. Hadley, you heard the diagnoses. They are quite serious. Are you aware that two of them cannot be treated with medication? And the third can, but the patient must be willing to continue taking her medication every day?"

"No, I wasn't, but I do know that what she has is pretty significant."

"If the defendant were to be released and not required to serve a prison sentence, Mr. Hadley, what do you believe would happen?"

"In truth? She would come after us again. I have security around our house and the band has security around the studio. It wouldn't be very difficult for a determined, mentally ill woman to get past any defenses I have set up to protect my family. Sir, I am begging you - sentence the defendant to prison!" Here, Marcus had turned to the magistrate as he pleads.

Finally, the case is given to the jury to decide upon. We learn that it could be days, not hours, before the jury returns with their verdict - then the magistrate has to come back with his ruling. The only things that keeps me from losing my sanity as we wait are Marcus, Lizzie, our upcoming European tour and Melanie's trial, which starts right after Cara's trial.

Much of what we learned in Melanie's trial has already been covered in Cara's trial, so, except for the days when I must testify in Melanie's trial, I stay away. When the defense puts on its case, I am there every day. I decide that I need to know just as much about her as I now know about Cara. After all, Marcus and I will be expected to testify about the effects of Melanie's actions on our family.

Melanie's lawyer focuses strongly on her mental health diagnosis, but, now that I know just a little more about borderline personality disorder, I realize that it isn't a mental illness, per se. I also know that Melanie can't take medication and control her condition. She has to want to do so. She has to want to participate in therapy to understand what she has and how to control it on her own. Given that she's got so used to drama and creating havoc in the lives of others, it's unlikely she's going to want to control her disorder. Therefore, we need to know as much as we can about her so we can ask for the stiffest possible sentence. We have a little girl to protect. Melanie and Cara would care nothing for any harm they do to her as long as they can achieve their scummy ends.

Therefore, Marcus puts a lot of work in, writing and sending articles to his clients in the days before Melanie's defense begins laying out their case. Tim, Linny, Laslow and I put in extra hours of practice so we can be in the courtroom. We are a united presence. As we walk into the courtroom, minus the baby, our entrance causes quite the stir. We sit in one row, with Marcus and I sitting next to each other. Heads crane, looking at us. Finally, the magistrate has to call the entire court room to attention.

"The court calls Melanie Stabb to the stand!"

Melanie looks the same as she did in the concert auditorium - tall, emaciated and with her hair styled in a poorly cut Mohawk haircut.

"Miss Stabb, will you please describe your childhood for the magistrate and jury?"

"I am one of seven children. My mum and dad separated when I was three, so mum expected that I would take care of my youngest brother, who was, at that time, about a year old. She began dating almost immediately after my dad left. She had no time for any of us, so we basically raised ourselves. We lived on the streets when mum had no money for gas, lights or food. By the time I was twelve, I was responsible for my brother, my siblings and me. I'm one of two girls, so we were expected to make a home and go to school. I dropped out shortly after I started secondary school so I could find a job.

"I found work as a child minder in a neighborhood nursery and worked part-time up until I was about twenty-four years old. Got a boyfriend and we lived together until he left me for someone else a few years later. I got depressed and lost my child minder job. I knocked around for a while and sort of got involved in minor crime...I called people and told them they had won the lottery, that I needed their bank account numbers so my boss could put their winnings into their accounts."

"So, you were one of several neglected children. Did your mum abuse you?"

"Oh, no! Oh, well, when she left the house and made us take care of each other, well..."

"No, Miss Stabb. I'm talking about being hit. Being abused sexually. Did that ever happen to you?"

I see where Melanie's attorney is going and so do the rest of us. I pull my writing pad and pen out and start doodling musical notes again as I listen.

"Uh, abuse? Hitting? Sexual stuff? Uh..." She's unable to answer that question. Whether that is due to her intellectual capability or what, I am not able to figure out. Seems pretty straightforward to me. If she was a victim of abuse, answer in the affirmative; if not, then deny it.

"Don't you remember telling me that..."

"Excuse me, sir, but he's leading his client!" This is the barrister for the prosecution.

"If she was, she was. If she wasn't, don't lead her into stating something that's patently false," orders the magistrate. "Move to a different topic."