Dear Diary,I was on a train with Peter, a member of the congregation of our local Church. He had to attend a court trial where he was accused (framed) for something he didn't do. Peter did not have a legal representative and so he had asked me to come along to defend him, which I agreed to do as he is my best friend, and more importantly, he was innocent of the charge. Essentially someone was using him as a scapegoat and I felt obliged to accompany him.
We arrived in a city, and went to the address. The house was not a Courthouse exactly (yet paradoxically it was), but was an old Victorian building, white walls, the carpets were held down nicely, and although it was an old Victorian house, it was in a good state of repair. A small child answered the door, knew we were expected and led us down some stairs (the stairs went both ways, and the stairwell itself was quite confined, in contrast to the size of the rooms, which were large).
We entered the Courtroom/living-room. A fireplace burned in the centre west-facing wall, a Tenenbaum was decorated nicely, it was Christmas time. The chairs were old, and plush, the sofas much the same: cherry red. Paintings hung on the walls. Old paintings, countryside scenes, portraits of important looking people I did not recognize. Three women took minutes and attended to the proceedings, they were very well dressed, immaculately so. One wore glasses and took notes, she seemed to be the slightly senior of the three. Two men sat to the left of us, the "victim" and his plaintiff. Before the trial some banter took place. The children played (they were the sons and daughters of the three ladies, by the look of the faces, which were similar). The whole place had a familial air about it, all was pleasant, and everybody was in a good mood (apart from Peter, whom was nervous). Alas, the man who was the first witness was a brute. He spoke about being a rugby player and blatantly told everyone that he often mingled partying and intoxication of all kinds while at sporting events. It made no sense, as he seemed cocky, sure of a result, and had a
really good lawyer.
All banter suddenly stopped, and the trial began. In the corner was the witness box, and the mud-slinging began. The prosecution had a solid case, and it was as though they had rehearsed it. The jury and judges were all completely convinced that Peter had done something wrong. Then it came my turn, and the usher bade me take the floor.
Peter entered the witness box. "Mr. Granville, how long have you been a town councillor?" Peter did not respond immediately, but eventually uttered, "Twenty, um, about twenty years". "And is it true that you attend Church each week?" Peter did not respond, the judges, jury and all looked at one another, eyebrows were raised. I stepped in, "Well, I attend Church each week and see you there, so it evident you do." This caused a small murmur of laughter and seemed to lighten the mood. "My defendant is a most pious man, one of the few whom kneels during prayers. A moderate temperate man, Mr. Granville is a caring compassionate gentleman who has never been accused of a crime in his life. On the night in question he was miles away from where these supposed crimes took place and I have here eye witness accounts of friends, signed by them to testify to that effect. All about town know that he is a person incapable of such heinous criminality, and although somewhat eccentric, Mr. Granville could not hurt a fly. He comes from good family, and has only good thoughts, kind words and from his actions only cares for people. On many an occasion he does the shopping for an elderly member of the congregation Mr. Frederick Kent. The two exchange books, and are both the most pious and upright people one might hope to meet in this day and age. In conclusion, the fact that my client is even implicated by these charges is proposterous. Examine if you will the countenance of the defendant and contrast that with the demeanour of the prosecution. Do you honestly believe that a man of such soft-spoken manner, of mild action, and compassionate character could even be capable of such misdemeanours? Search your hearts, and review for yourselves the likelihood of whom is the culprit, and whom is the real victim in this trumped up charge." At this point the jury left the room to deliberated, at which point my old guitar teacher came in to the room. He said nothing and simply smiled. The children began to throw some of the Christmas decorations into the fire in the hearth, and we told them to stop doing so. The three ladies re-entered the room with the jury, and a verdict was given. Peter was acquitted, and free to go, whereas the prosecution had to stay behind for further examination into the case, for a period of twenty minutes. We left, and I had forgotten something (my shoes of all things), and returned back down the stairs to the room. When I arrived back there, only the lady in white was there, and everyone else had left. She handed me my brogues and wished me good day. I almost lost my train-ticket, but found it eventually. I then awoke.
