Supreme Court of Western Australia
PERTH
October 17th
Finally, as the primary witness for the defence, it is my turn today. Jodie said from the start that I didn’t have to take the stand, not if I didn’t want to.
‘But I’m an old hand at this sort of thing,’ I said, smiling.
She didn’t smile back.
Maybe she’s worried I’ll present the wrong image to the jury. That I won’t be…I don’t know…weak enough, innocent enough, given the way I look now. Not as much of a victim as I looked the first time around. But perception is a strange thing. And I am older, and tougher, and I feel it. It’s hard to disguise that. And why should I?
As we wait for the court to get settled, Jodie reaches across and squeezes my hand. I hope the jury sees. It’s such a familiar gesture—surely someone whose hand gets squeezed couldn’t be found guilty of murder. I squeeze back:thank you.Perhaps it’s just her commitment to her job, but I think Jodie really does believe me, my story. That’s one person, anyway.
When she turns to speak to Mikael, I look down at my nails. They’re bitten to the quick, bleeding in places, but I don’t feel nervous. Not like I did the first time around, in your trial, which is strange, because it’s my freedom in the balance this time. Perhaps it is because I have nothing tofeel guilty about. But you felt like that once too, didn’t you? And you also pleaded not guilty. Look where it got you.
I’m not in the same remand centre as you were. They put me in the women’s prison, further out from central Perth, out in the bush. You’ve probably heard of it. I hear wattlebirds and magpies every morning. I thought I would hate being locked away, but it’s okay being alone, waiting. I spent the past decade thinking that you must have hated it, that being in a cell went against everything you stood for. But, who knows, maybe I was wrong about that too.
The clerk calls me up to the stand and I place my hand on the Bible, just like I did once before. Even though I don’t believe in God or in any religion, I’ve always thought taking an oath, instead of just an affirmation, sounded better, stronger.
Jodie begins. She starts gently, slowly, with those dark, quiet days in London without you. She lets me tell my story in my own words, in my own way. I start to tell the jury the truth as I’ve been telling it to you. It’s not long before she gets to our ‘inciting incident’.
‘Would you tell the jury, in your own words, what happened on February twelfth?’ Jodie coaxes.
I explain that I followed you after your release from prison, that I was simply curious, and couldn’t keep away. I don’t say I stalked you, because that wasn’t what it was, and you know that too. I just needed to connect and see you, that’s all. And you needed that too. You would’ve done it yourself if you’d been allowed to, if you’d known I was there.
Then, yes, this next bit…I guess I do embellish a little. But only a little. We all do it, don’t we: shape our stories inslightly different ways to make them seem more interesting, or more heroic, or truer?
I say how pleased you were to see me when we met in the park, that you came with me of your own free will, that we were running away together, just like you’d planned for us, all those years ago. I say that, this time, we were going to do it all properly. I don’t mention the girl in the school uniform, and I don’t mention the drugs.
I say that you were grateful I had found you again, that you wanted to come back to the desert with me, back to our sacred place. That we stayed out there watching the stars, sitting in the sun, hunting for lizards, talking, until we realised it was never going to work. That it was only a matter of time before the authorities found us.
‘We knew the end was coming,’ I say, ‘we had to enjoy our time while we could.’
I shift in the stand, take a sip of water. I make sure all the members of the jury get a good look at my belly. I want them to see it in all its full glory; I want them to see what we made, that last night, that time in the pool. And I want them to know that you will always be with me in some way. And that this way is my way now. I wait a few moments for the jury to take in this last piece of evidence.
On the stand, your sister argued that my belly couldn’t be because of you, and Mr Lowe quoted figures about the accuracy of prenatal paternity tests. But I took two tests. Both results were displayed on the screen for the jury. Positive match, twice.
How does it feel, Ty, to be a father? How does it feel to know you cannot ever meet your child?
Your sister has changed her tune, hasn’t she? In youroriginal trial, she thought I was lying about being kidnapped, that I was the one who wanted to run away. Now I’m saying I did just what she accused me of the first time around, and she thinks I’m lying again. Guess there’s no pleasing some people. One thing is certain, though: she thinks I’m lying about letting you go. To her, I’m evil. Just like you were in the eyes of Mum.
But you wanted to be let go, didn’t you? It’s what you once asked for. And I came to see that it had to happen, that releasing you from me like that was the only way forward. Now you’re free to become something new, stay out in the land for the rest of your life.
Soon it will be Mr Lowe’s cross-examination, followed by the closing statements. Jodie’s statement will tell the jury that we were protecting each other. You, fixing the car for me. Me, letting you go. She will say that we were doing what we could to keep each other free.
‘Ms Stone? Kate?’
I blink back to the present. My mind is wandering, dangerously so. Jodie has asked me another question; I need to concentrate.
‘Ms Stone,’ she says again, softly this time. ‘Could you tell the jury why you lied to the police detectives? Why didn’t you tell them the truth in the beginning, about Mr MacFarlane being in the house with you?’
‘Lying about that was for protection,’ I say. ‘I was frightened, trying to buy time for Ty—Mr MacFarlane—to disappear.’
‘You also lied to the detectives about an argument you had with Mr MacFarlane. You made no mention of the argument at all, not at first—is that correct?’
‘Yes, that’s correct.’