Prima Facie

初步举证 （第二部分）

PART TWO

TESSA is diferent now. Less articulate.

Less confident, less quick.

She gets worse once the cross-examination begins.

Scene Eight

Crown Court

NOW

This. Is. Me.

Outside looking in. Watching myself.

Through the doors.

Sound of my heels on the floor.   The Inner London Crown Court.

This is me,

moving through the security system.

Detached.

Objective.

This is me,

bag on the belt. This time,

no barrister’s ID, no easy pass.

Just me.

Walking through the metal detector. Alarm rings,

take off my shoes,   back through again.

This is me being swiped by the handheld metal detector.

This time I’m, I’m … [no one.]

Over there I can see   black robes swishing,

horsehair wigs leaning in toward each other.

Paper,   folders,

confident chatter.

Did one of them see me?

Oh God.

Head down.

This is me picking up my bag, mobile,

walking to the lifts with the witness support service.

This is me, Tessa Ensler, without my barrister robe. No wig.

This is what it feels like.

Same court, no armour.

This is me digging my nails into my wrist.

This is me walking into the lift, look at the floor.

Doors shut. Ding.

Solicitors, barristers, police.

Exit, enter, exit, ding.

Level two.

This is me walking out of the lift. Find the meeting room.

This is me sitting in a small windowless room. Plastic white table,

waiting. Waiting.

I’ve been waiting for seven hundred and eighty-two days, and now today is the day.

Three years at university,    

one year of bar school,

and seven years of practice.

I have always believed.

Now I need to know that I was not mistaken.

That I can still believe in you. Can trust,

can still hold on to you.

Believe you’ll show me that

before the law there is justice.

But, I’m here and –

You look so different from this end.

From this seat in this windowless room.

The prosecutor, Richard, he comes into the room.

Richard Lawson. I’m lucky

he’s well respected, knows the law.

Now we’re here

at the London Inner City Court,    

Richard in his silk robes, his wig,

ready to run the case.

After all those adjournments.

Paperwork.

Me,

thinking,   

frustrated,

weighed down by it.

Today is seven hundred and eighty-two days since that first day at …

[the police station.]

Interrupted.

Scene Nine

Interview

JUMP backward to …

THEN

In the police station the morning after the rape.

We know this TESSA from Part One. At the counter.

Police station.

The officer was a big guy.

Posters of missing people.

One with a sad-looking woman with bruises on her face. ‘This is not love. ’

A sticker ‘Be a Hero. Stop Crime Before it Happens’ on the wall.

Not stuck straight.

Someone’s tried to deface it but looks like the pen didn’t work properly on the shiny sticker.

I was led into an interview room.

I’ve only ever seen video footage of rooms like this one.

Watching a client’s interrogation recording while sitting with my feet on the desk in chambers.

All my sass and outrage at the tricks the police play.

It’s different when you’re in here.

I’m cold,  shivering.

Skirt, top, sandals.

Dressed in clothes from the spare room.

I want to ask for a woman, I need to,

but I don’t want to get the big officer offside. He must’ve read my mind.

Tells me I could come back another time ‘when the sexual assault unit is on,

or a woman’s on duty?’

But I just want to get it over with.

Puts his coffee on the table, scratches around.

The questions start. Ah, yes.

Tessa Jane Ensler. Um no.

No thank you. Yes.

I recognise I’m being recorded, yes. No, I um.

I wanted to report – Yes.

Because I think –

Because I WAS …

Something happened. To me.

I was just – um. Last night,

this morning … I,

I I was sexually assaulted … And I want to –

Yes he’s known to me. Julian Brookes.

No, we work together. I don’t know,

about five years. Um.

Arelationship?

Sort of. No,

I mean –

Well no –

Last night wasn’t the first time we’d … been together

but we weren’t –

We hadn’t defined anything. So no, not a ‘relationship’ .

Um,

last week we had – We had sex.

Well at work. Um.

No, no – it was after hours. His office.

It just happened like that.

Yes,

I consented. That time.

Silence as he takes this down.

Then he asks me.

This is where I have to describe the rape.

I don’t want to be a victim,

damaged. Nope.

No, I want to be a survivor, but …

Where was this hand?

Your leg? His arm?

So,

did you use your other hand to push him away? Kick him?

Will he have marks where you fought him? On his hand where you bit him?

Then …

Other body parts. More questions.

I can’t look at the policeman any more.

I don’t know.

I don’t know. Humiliation.

Distress.

Wrong or foolish behaviour? Was it me?

What did I do wrong? Was I foolish?

What should I have done?

He wants my phone. ‘No.

I need it!’

He’s not happy about this. He leaves the room.

I'm alone again.

Waiting.

Waiting.

He returns.

Again about the phone. ‘I can’t …

Won’t. My family, my friends, my work!’ He gives me a look.

I know I’m being difficult, but I …

He says a car will take me to … To The Havens.

A forensic medical examination.

I have to tell him,

it might not come up with much.

‘Because um, um, I had a shower,

straight after. ’

Oh God,

I’m an idiot,

I had a fucking shower,    washed everything away.

‘What if he says we didn’t have sex? How can I prove –

No, he’s not that stupid,

I mean he would agree to that fact surely? He’d say –

Just,

that it was consensual sex.

Won’t he?’

I look back at the policeman.

He’s chewing gum.

‘Once he gets a bastard defence barrister they could say anything. ’

I tell him that Julian IS a ‘bastard’ defence barrister.

He stops chewing, rolls his eyes.

Looks back at me as if I have done it deliberately. Picked the most challenging defendant.

I hear myself, small voice,    I mention

I, too am a defence barrister.

I don’t know how to interpret the look I get. Smug or, or

is it genuinely sympathetic? Can’t read it.

Not now.

Flat voice,

‘Now you need us though don’t you?’ ‘Sorry?’

Revert back to present.

Richard has said her name.

Scene Ten

Waiting, Waiting

NOW

Richard has asked me a question. Something about being ready?

Calm?

I answer, but I don’t,

I can’t, I don’t know what I said.

Look at the table,

white plastic turning dirty cream.

Richard asks me if I’m sure about refusing video evidence. Yep.

I want to look Julian right in the eye. This is me,

waiting for the court to call the matter that has Julian’s name on it.

The King v Julian Brookes,

on the court list,

for every single person to see.

The King v Julian Brookes.

This is me knowing that the jury are being empanelled.

Courtroom number one.

Julian’s barrister, his KC, is probably hoping for as few women as possible.

Talking strategy.

Julian there, giving his opinion.

Making sure that he has the best possible chance of being found not guilty.

Me,

I sit here, waiting,

until I’m allowed in.

Richard has to return to the courtroom, he puts his hand on my shoulder,

I flinch.

I can’t help it.

He’s talking to me, mouth moving,

‘Is someone coming to be with you?’ Nod.

Without opening her mouth. ‘Uh-huh. ’ Fuck.

I will not cry.

Scene Eleven

Forensic Examination/Evidence

THEN

Jump back to …

Hospital after statement to police.

It's seven hundred and eighty-two days since the …

Hospital bed. The Havens Rape and Sexual Assault Unit. Forensic medical examination.

White gown,

waiting for the nurse.

‘Name please?’

‘Tessa Jane Ensler. ’

My phone beeps. A text. Oh God.

It’s him. It’s Julian ‘Date ofbirth?’

‘Where are you? Don’t tell me you’ve gone into work! J xx. ’

The phone feels contaminated.

I delete it, instantly regret deleting evidence. What’s wrong with me, I keep doing this?

Should have given the officer my phone.

‘Residential address?’

I go cold,

he’s still at my fucking flat.