“Show yourself!” I screamed. “What are you waiting for?!”
From here I could see to the front door, slightly ajar, the light from the hallway filtering in. “No,” I muttered to myself, and ran toward the door after him.
He was behind the sofa and stood suddenly, tripping me, the can of deodorant and the lighter skittering out of my hands and across the floor as I landed facedown on the carpet with a forceful thump.
He laughed, his face manic in the half-light, his face wet with tears, residue from the spray smeared around his eyes. “You’re not afraid? Huh? Is that what you said?” He was sitting astride my chest, my fists pounding him as hard as I could everywhere and anywhere I could reach, but clearly not bothering him in the slightest.
“Get off me, you shit,” I hissed. “Get the fuck off me!”
He caught one of my hands and was trying to get the other one as I slapped him and punched him and tried to get to his eyes, scratching anywhere I could get to. If he got my other hand, if he tied me up, it was all over.
“Where’s Sylvia?” I shouted at him. “What have you done with her?”
He laughed, again, as though what I’d said was funny. “Sylvia—Christ. Let’s just say she won’t be putting in a complaint.”
A car’s headlights outside brightened the room for a second and I saw his eyes, the expression in them—and the fear almost overtook me. Until then I hadn’t been afraid. But now I saw he was going to kill me. And this time he was going to be quick.
Instead of going for his face, my left hand grasped into my pocket and found the potato peeler. With as much force as I could muster, I rammed it into his side and almost immediately he fell off me, gasping and clutching his side.
The handle of the peeler stuck out from his side. He twisted around to look at it and touched it gingerly.
I crawled away into the shadows, feeling around the carpet for the can and the smooth metal of the lighter, and my fingers made contact with them just as he grabbed at my ankle. I kicked backward as hard as I could and my sneaker made contact with something that made him yell.
In the meantime I turned, sprayed and clicked.
The jet of flame shot halfway across my living room, over the figure that was sprawled on his back. I saw his eyes and the shock and the fear in them for a moment before I adjusted my aim full into his face. And then he was just a figure, engulfed in flame, falling backward with his hands over his face, arms flapping. I thought he would be quiet but he was screaming, his mouth full of flames and the sound coming out of it the most terrible noise I’d ever heard.
My hands were burning too and I managed to drop the can. I stood for a moment wondering if I should do something, as he dropped to the carpet and rolled left and right, writhing like a man possessed. The flames were gone and he lay still, his face blackened, his shirt tattered.
I let out a breath, a sob, just as I heard feet on the stairs, louder than the rain hammering on the window outside, louder than the bleeping smoke alarm above my head, and the door flew open. I looked behind me at the shapes coming through the doorway, only two of them, only two of them in uniform—what did they think? But I was never more grateful to see two people in my whole life.
I fell to my knees onto the carpet, and wept.
From where I sat on a low wall outside the main building, I saw him running across the parking lot, watching for a gap in the traffic then risking it and weaving between the cars, slowing down as the lights changed.
He was out of breath when he finally got to me.
“Hi,” he said. “Am I late?”
I shook my head. “There’s some sort of a holdup—they’re not starting until half-past. They’re all still waiting in the corridor outside.”
“Is she in there?”
“Yes.”
He kissed me, a quick kiss on the cheek and then another one, lingering. His fingers on my cheek were cool.
“Stuart. You’re nervous.”
“A bit. Aren’t you?”
“A bit.”
“Let’s go inside. Get it over with.”
Sam Hollands was waiting for us inside.
“How are you feeling, Cathy?” she asked. She looked good today, in a pantsuit and with a fresh haircut. She’d given her evidence this morning.
“I’m okay. Thanks.”
“They’ve delayed the start,” Sam said to Stuart. “It seems Mr. Brightman isn’t feeling well again.”
“What a surprise,” Stuart said.
I was half listening to them, scanning the waiting area, watching the people coming and going, looking for her. Where was she? She was supposed to be here.
“Sam, where . . . ?”
“She went to the bathroom.”
Stuart still had tight hold of my hand. He kissed it. “Go and look for her,” he said. “I’ll see you in there. Don’t look at him. Just look at me, if you need to.”
“Just go in,” I said. “I’ll be fine. Really.”
He went through the door, looking for a seat in the public gallery. The courtroom was filling up.
“I’d better go in, too,” Sam said. “Unless you want me to wait?”
“No, you go in. I’ll go and find her.”
She hesitated for a moment. The usher was hovering by the door, looking fidgety.
“We’re going to nail him,” she said.
I smiled, and she went inside.
Inside the ladies’ bathroom, Sylvia stood by the sink, staring at her reflection in the mirror. “Hey,” I said.
She’d made an effort to put on some makeup, brighten her face up a bit, but she still looked terribly pale.
“I’m afraid, Catherine,” she said.
“I know.”
“You were so brave, yesterday. They listened to you.”
“They’ll listen to you, too.”
I watched her face start to crumple and stepped forward to hold her. She was shaking, her thin shoulders rigid with fear.
“It’s all right,” I said. “It’s all right to be scared. But you know what? He’s more scared than you are. You’re the one with all the power now. You know that? He can’t hurt us again. We’ve just got to get through this, and it will be all right.”
She pulled back, fiercely dabbing at her eyes with a tissue. “I know, I know. You’re right. But—”
“Did you hear his voice on the first day? Remember when they asked him his name and he entered the plea? It was just a squeak. That’s all he has left. He is nothing.”
She nodded, and smiled, a slight smile. A deep breath.
“Don’t look at him, if you don’t want to. Look at me, or Stuart, or Sam. We’re all there for you. We’re all in this together. Right?”
“Yes.”
“Then let’s go,” I said.
“One more thing.” She fiddled around in her handbag, and found some lipstick. Bright red. When she applied it, her hand was steady.
It was time.
R-v-BRIGHTMAN
Wednesday 4 March 2009
Morning Session
Before:
THE HONORABLE MR. JUSTICE McCANN
| M R s. S COTT | Would you please state your full name? |
| M ISS B ARTLETT | Sylvia Jane Lesley Bartlett. |
| M RS . S COTT | Thank you. Now, Miss Bartlett, how long have you known Mr. Brightman? |
| M ISS B ARTLETT | About five and a half years. |
| M RS. S COTT | And you formed a relationship with him? |
| M ISS B ARTLETT | Yes. |
| M R . J USTICE M C C ANN | Would you speak up, Miss Bartlett? |
| M ISS B ARTLETT | I’m sorry. Yes. |
| M RS. S COTT | You maintained a relationship with the defendant while he spent some time in prison, did you not? |
| M ISS B ARTLETT | Yes, I did. |
| M RS. S COTT | And when he was released from custody in December 2007, you were able to spend time with him again? |
| M ISS B ARTLETT | I was living in London at that time, and Lee was supposed to stay in Lancaster. He was supposed to sign on at the police station every week, and see probation, things like that. So I didn’t see him that often. |
| M RS. S COTT | Did Mr. Brightman visit you in London? |
| M ISS B ARTLETT | Yes, whenever he could. |
| M RS. S COTT | And how would you describe your relationship at this point. Were you both happy together? |
| M RS. S COTT | Take your time. |
| M R . J USTICE M C C ANN | Would you like to sit down, Miss Bartlett? |
| M ISS B ARTLETT | Thank you. I’m sorry. Lee was very different when he came out of prison. He was difficult to be around sometimes. |
| M RS. S COTT | What do you mean by that? |
| M ISS B ARTLETT | He could be—er—argumentative. He was prone to mood swings. |
| M RS. S COTT | Was he physically violent toward you? |
| M R . J USTICE M C C ANN | Miss Bartlett, do you need a glass of water? |
| M ISS B ARTLETT | No, no. I’m sorry. He could be nasty in the things he said, and I was scared of him. But he was only ever violent to me that last time. |
| M RS. S COTT | Thank you, I understand this is very upsetting for you. When he was released from prison, did Mr. Brightman mention Catherine Bailey to you? |
| M ISS B ARTLETT | No. I saw Catherine in January last year. I was on the bus and she was outside, waiting at the bus stop. When I saw Lee I told him that I’d seen her. |
| M RS. S COTT | And how did he react? |
| M ISS B ARTLETT | He made no comment on it at the time. But he must have been looking for her. I saw a job listing in the paper and noticed Catherine’s name as the person to contact. Catherine worked in personnel, I assumed it was her. When I showed it to Lee, he said he was going to apply for the job, just for a laugh. He wanted to use my address on the application form. |
| M RS. S COTT | And how did you feel about that? |
| M ISS B ARTLETT | I wasn’t happy that he wanted to contact her again. We had an argument about it. |
| M RS. S COTT | Now, a few moments ago you said that Mr. Brightman was only violent that last time. Could you tell the court the circumstances that led up to that event? |
| M ISS B ARTLETT | [ inaudible ] |
| M R. J USTICE M C C ANN | Miss Bartlett, could you speak up for the court, please? |
| M RS. S COTT | Are you all right to continue? |
| M ISS B ARTLETT | Yes. Thank you. |
| M RS. S COTT | My question was in relation to the last time that you saw Mr. Brightman prior to his arrest. |
| M ISS B ARTLETT | I looked in his bag. He brought a bag with him when he came. Usually he took it with him when he went out, but on that occasion he left it behind, and I looked inside it. |
| M RS. S COTT | And what did you find? |
| M ISS B ARTLETT | It was mainly clothes, a pair of shoes, just things you would take for a weekend away. But at the bottom of the bag I found—other things. There was a photo of Catherine. A pornographic photograph. And some equipment, electronic devices, I don’t know what they were. And a knife. |
| M RS. S COTT | I see. And just to be clear, what date did this happen? Do you recall? |
| M ISS B ARTLETT | It was Tuesday the sixth of May last year. |
| M RS. S COTT | And when you next saw Mr. Brightman, did you tell him what you’d found? |
| M ISS B ARTLETT | Yes. It was the next morning. I don’t know where he’d been that night, but he didn’t come back to the flat. |
| M RS. S COTT | And how did he respond? |
| M ISS B ARTLETT | He was very angry. He hit me across the back of my head. I lost consciousness for a few moments and when I came around, he was . . . he was . . . |
| M RS. S COTT | Take your time. |
| M ISS B ARTLETT | I’m sorry. He was on top of me. He was raping me. |
| M RS. S COTT | He raped you? |
| M ISS B ARTLETT | Yes. |
| M RS. S COTT | What happened next? |
| M ISS B ARTLETT | He left. He just took his bag and walked out. |
| M RS. S COTT | Did you call the police? |
| M ISS B ARTLETT | No. I was too afraid. I didn’t know where he’d gone. I thought he might come back at any moment. |
| M RS. S COTT | What did you do? |
| M ISS B ARTLETT | I had a bath. Got dressed in clean clothes. I went to a public telephone and called Catherine at work, and asked her to meet me. |
| M RS. S COTT | You met up with Catherine in Oxford Street, is that correct? |
| M ISS B ARTLETT | Yes. I wanted to meet somewhere public, in case he was following me. |
| M RS. S COTT | And was it your intention to tell Catherine what had happened to you? |
| M ISS B ARTLETT | Yes. I wanted to warn her. |
| M RS. S COTT | To warn her? |
| M ISS B ARTLETT | I thought he was going to go after her. I thought he was planning to attack her again. |
| M RS. S COTT | When you met with Catherine, did you explain this to her? |
| M ISS B ARTLETT | [ inaudible ] |
| M RS. S COTT | Sylvia, for the benefit of the court, would you please answer? |
| M ISS B ARTLETT | No. I didn’t. I didn’t get a chance to tell her. Lee phoned me just as Catherine arrived. He was normal on the phone, but I knew he was watching us. He asked why I was wearing those clothes. |
| M RS. S COTT | Could you explain what you thought he meant by that? |
| M ISS B ARTLETT | I normally wear quite bright clothing. I’d chosen to wear a plain black skirt and a white blouse. I thought it would make it harder for him to spot me, if he was following me. |
| M RS. S COTT | And he commented on your clothing? |
| M ISS B ARTLETT | Yes. And he asked who I was meeting. I told him no one he knew. He said I was lying, it was someone we both knew very well. I knew he was watching us. |
| M RS. S COTT | What did you do? |
| M ISS B ARTLETT | I left. I thought if I could leave Catherine behind, she would be safe. I thought he would follow me rather than her. |
| M RS. S COTT | And is that, in fact, what happened? |
| M ISS B ARTLETT | Yes. |
| M RS. S COTT | Where did you go? |
| M ISS B ARTLETT | I walked around for a while. I tried to lose him. I went to a gallery, I went shopping. When I finally went home it was nearly dark. He was waiting for me on the steps. I was terrified to see him. He was . . . very calm about it, almost reassuring. Then he said he wanted to show me something and he took me down the steps to the basement flat. |
| M RS. S COTT | Could you explain what you mean to the court? This is not your flat, is that correct? |
| M ISS B ARTLETT | No. The basement flat in our building was empty. It was being renovated, I think. There was no furniture in it. I don’t think the electricity was switched on. |
| M RS. S COTT | What happened when he took you into the flat? |
| M ISS B ARTLETT | I’m sorry, I just . . . |
| M R . J USTICE M C C ANN | Miss Bartlett, do you need to take a break? |
| M RS. S COTT | In fact there are just a few more questions, if the witness is able to continue. |
| M ISS B ARTLETT | I’m all right. I’m sorry. |
| M RS. S COTT | Are you able to tell us what happened when you went into the flat? |
| M ISS B ARTLETT | He punched me and kicked me. He shouted at me, told me I was stupid over and over again. He told me I didn’t deserve to live. |
| M RS. S COTT | How long did this attack last? |
| M ISS B ARTLETT | I’m not sure. It felt like a long time. He dragged me into the bathroom. There was a toilet and basin there, and fittings for a shower, but otherwise it was bare. No windows; it was a small room. Then he locked the door behind me. |
| M RS. S COTT | And was that the last time you saw him? |
| M ISS B ARTLETT | No. He came back some time later. He was wearing gloves. I thought he was going to kill me. |
| M RS. S COTT | Did he attack you again? |
| M ISS B ARTLETT | No. He told me he was going to find Catherine, said he wanted to sort things out. |
| M RS. S COTT | And what did you think he meant by that? |
| M R . N ICHOLSON | Your Honor, the witness is being asked for her opinion. |
| M RS. S COTT | Your Honor, I feel that the witness was in a situation where she could have interpreted what was meant by the words spoken by the defendant. |