HUSH - Book - Page 56
HUSH – Breaking the Silence | Victim Support Scotland
weren't going to give us him back because they might need
to exhume the body during the trial. “If you're not going to
bury him local, you're not getting him back until after,”
Bearing in mind, it could have been about a year before
going to court. I just couldn't get my head around the fact
that I couldn't bury my Dad with my Mum.
The police advised that they were going to attend the
funeral for our safety and to make sure that nobody turned
up that shouldn't. We also had to give them a list of who we
were expecting to attend, as there was a lot of other things
going on at that time like, my fence had been damaged, and
my tyres slashed.
We spoke to the funeral director, to organise a local
burial and we were panicking “How are we going to pay for a
funeral?” he was lovely and just so helpful keeping the
costs down to the bare minimum. He said, “I don't advise
an open co n. I am so sorry,” He did however try to
reconstruct Dad's face, so we could go in and see him one
last time.
At the funeral there wasn't enough people to hold the
co n, so it went down with a loud thud as it was being
lowered into the grave. I dropped to my knees… it was like
my legs just weren't there anymore. I actually couldn't
cope. “It's not supposed to be like this.” A traditional
Hebridean funeral is supposed to be the celebration of a
person's life with ceilidhs and everything, but this was just
all wrong! I've seen so many deaths in my profession and so
many different ways of people dying, but murder, it's just
something else entirely.
The time leading up to the trial was terrifying. There
was an attempted abduction of my little boy and other
incidents to prevent me from testifying. The three of us
walked into the courthouse together and then we were
separated. So, my sister had to sit in the gallery on her own.
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‘A traditional Hebridean funeral is
supposed to be the celebration of a
person’s life with ceilidhs and everything, but this was just all wrong!’
My brother and I were stuck in separate rooms on our own
with no-one, not even a glass of water. I didn't know what
was happening or how long I was going to be there for and
none of us had ever seen a courtroom before.
Eventually, a woman came and got me. She said, “You're
going through there. You're going into the court now,”. I was
shaking and saying “I don't want to go. I don't want to go...” I
physically couldn't breathe. It was the first time I've ever
had a panic attack. “I can't go through that door; I can't go
through.” But she grabbed hold of me, opened the door and
pushed me in. She said, “There you go. You'll be fine, hen.
Honestly, you'll be fine.” and the door shut behind me. There
I was in this courtroom. I was just looking around going, “I
can't breathe, I don't want to do this.” Then someone came
over to me and said something like "You need to repeat
after me and raise your hand.”
I was bombarded with questions from all sides and
asked to point him out in front of everyone. I thought “Oh,
my God, I don't want to be here.” And when it was over, they
just said “Okay, thank you. You can go out the door you
came in now.”
I turned around and my hands were so sweaty, I couldn't
even get the door open. Once, it was opened I ran through it
bursting into tears. I needed a minute to compose myself
before the policewoman ushered me to the gallery where
my brother and sister were waiting for me.
