Witness - [61]

Afterwards Nana was always coming up with home remedies for Cheryl and the baby. Old wives’ tales from back home. When her breasts got sore and swollen, Nana told her to comb them with her Afro comb and stick plantain leaves in her bra. Cheryl was scandalized. ‘I ain’t combing ’em! Nana, that is so gross.’

‘Is sense, you’ll see.’

The midwife said that massage did help, Cheryl could do it in a warm bath, apply steady pressure towards the nipple where the lumpiness was worst, express a little of the milk. She tried that and it got better. But she drew the line at stuffing vegetables in her bra. And now, what would Nana think of a second child? Would it be too much for her now she was sick?

‘Okay,’ Benny said. ‘They’re putting the cameras on now.’ Cheryl shuffled in her seat. Rubbed her palms on her jeans. The screen went from black to colour. She could see the courtroom, the judge. Somewhere there, out of sight, were Carlton and Sam Millins. Vinia. And the Macateers. Cheryl took a sip of the water, it was lukewarm, the plastic cup felt oily in her fingers. She rubbed her hand on her jeans again.

Then the sound came on, she could hear the rustle as people moved, the hum of chatter. Then the judge spoke.

‘Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, the prosecution’s first witness will be giving evidence from a video link and their voice will be distorted. In certain cases these special measures are adopted but it is of the utmost importance that you do not assume from this any prejudice against the defendants nor attach any greater weight to the prosecution evidence. Your judgment will rest solely on the strength of the evidence you hear, not on the manner in which it is presented.’

The usher in the court stood up. ‘Witness A will now swear the oath.’

Benny nodded and held out the Bible to Cheryl. Cheryl placed her hand on the book and read the card. ‘I swear by Almighty God that the evidence I shall give shall be the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.’

One of the men in wigs, a tall, skinny man, stood up and spoke to Cheryl: ‘Please tell the court in your own words what you saw on the twentieth of June last year.’

‘I saw Danny Macateer.’ Cheryl’s tongue felt too big for her mouth, her lips were dry. The room was cool and she felt goose pimples flare on her arms. ‘I was on Abbey Street, near the shop, on the corner with Faraday Street. We said hello and that and he went on.’

‘Which way did he go?’

‘Along Abbey Street towards the main road.’

‘And what did you do?’

‘I set off home, down Faraday Street.’

‘You knew Danny?’

‘Yes.’

‘How?’

‘From around, from church and that.’ Cheryl couldn’t tell them that their nanas were best friends, nothing had been kept in her evidence that might give a clue to who she was.

‘How did he seem?’

The question floored her. His smile, the way he laughed when she mimicked Nana Rose. His quiet pride in his music. She swallowed. ‘Good. Happy, he was going to a rehearsal.’

‘Tell us what happened then.’

‘I was walking down Faraday Street, a car came past the other way; it was Carlton and Sam Millins.’ Cheryl could hear voices in the court, reactions to what she had said.

‘Derek Carlton?’

‘Yes.’ No one calls him Derek, she thought. She wanted to laugh. ‘They went the same way as Danny, turned into Abbey Street.’

‘How did you know it was Derek Carlton and Sam Millins?’

‘I saw them. And it was Sam’s car – the BMW.’

‘How do you know both these men?’

‘They live in the area. Everyone knows them, their gang runs the place, they cause a lot of trouble.’

One of the other lawyers got to her feet. She had a round, pale face and round glasses. ‘Hearsay and prejudicial,’ the woman said to the judge.

The judge told the jury to disregard the last statement. Cheryl felt her skin tighten. This was stupid; she couldn’t tell them what mattered. The whole gang stuff had killed Danny. It didn’t just hurt the people running round with drugs and guns, it made things bad for everyone.

‘Are you sure that the men you saw that day were Derek Carlton and Sam Millins?’

She spoke as firmly as she could: ‘Yes.’

‘And you were able to pick them out of video IDs when you were first interviewed by the police?’

‘Yes.’

‘Who was driving the car?’

‘Sam Millins.’ She looked straight at the screen, unblinking.

‘Please tell us what happened after that.’

‘I heard a shot.’

‘Where were you then?’

‘Further down Faraday Street.’ She imagined Vinia listening, knowing that she and Cheryl had been there that day, trying to remember who else had been about, who might have turned grass. There’d been plenty of people out and about and Faraday Street ran for several blocks, Cheryl hoped that Vinia would imagine this witness had reached a different stretch of the road. Would not put together what she was hearing with her best mate Cheryl.

‘You recognized it as a gunshot?’

‘I guessed it was. I’ve heard them before.’ Welcome to my world, Cheryl thought. ‘And then the car came across Faraday Street really fast, along Marsh Street. They’d been round the block.’

‘Did you go to see what had happened?’ the man asked.