You Had It Coming by B.M. Carroll (snow like ashes series .txt) 📗

s-s-strict instructions not to speak to the … com-com-complainants or make any kind of c-c-contact.’

‘Why do you feel you owe an apology?’ Bridget interjects. ‘The verdict cleared you of any wrongdoing.’

He shifts in his seat. He’s agitated, his speech deteriorating accordingly. ‘The verdict m-m-meant there wasn’t enough evidence … I was … drunk, really drunk, and I can’t actually r-r-remember that much. What I do … remember is Megan t-turning me down earlier in the night, when we were both f-f-f … sober. So, whatever happened afterwards p-p-probably shouldn’t have … happened. I’ve thought … about this a lot. It’s one thing con-convincing a j-j-judge and … jury. It’s another … convincing yourself that you did n-n-nothing wrong.’

So, there’s remorse. That’s something, at least. Was Thomas Malouf remorseful, too? Had he done any self-examination in the years following? And how about Megan and Jessica? How are they going to receive this belated apology? Are they in a forgiving frame of mind?

Dylan takes his phone from his pocket, glancing at the screen before putting it away again. Presumably checking the time, or missed work-related calls or messages. He’s a software engineer in one of the technology companies in Macquarie Park. She can imagine him in that role; preferring to interact with computers and code rather than people.

‘Thank you for being so candid, Dylan. We’ll finish up soon. Before you go, I want to talk through some extra security measures. Simple things like letting friends and family know your whereabouts at all times, keeping windows and doors locked and trying not to be alone. Be vigilant. Just until we get to the bottom of exactly what’s happening here.’

Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, let’s take a moment to recall the evidence submitted on physicality. You saw some photographs on the screen. Megan and Jessica at the karate class where they met each other and began a friendship. Megan sparring with another class member. Jessica breaking a board with her leg – she was only sixteen at the time, but obviously fearless. According to their Sensei’s testimony, Megan was extremely strong but lacking in agility. Jessica, on the other hand, had both – she could have gone far in the sport had she more discipline. The evidence highlights the fact that neither of these young ladies were weaklings. They were trained in self-defence, for goodness’ sake. If a boy needed to be pushed away, they were capable of that … and much more. These girls knew how to protect themselves. They were not victims. They were willing participants.

33

MEGAN

These girls were willing participants. This became one of William Newson’s catchphrases. Every day, as many times as he could manage, he got it in there, gelling the idea in the jury’s heads. So unfair that a barrister can stand up and say whatever he wants while the complainant sits there helplessly, with no immediate right of response. Of course, the prosecutor lodged objections, and on a few occasions the jury was asked to leave the room until the judge made a ruling. These girls were willing participants. It stuck, like one of those songs you hate yet can’t get out of your head.

Lengthy cross-examinations. Precise questions. Everything done and said that night funnelled down, down, down until it became one singular question: had consent been given? The one thing Megan knows for sure is that she did not consent. Therefore, it should have been black-and-white. William Newson excelled at introducing grey, querying their trustworthiness, their motives, even their ability to defend themselves. Thomas testified that he’d merely been bragging in the text (What a fucking night. Two virgins! Sick.) and he’d only had – consensual – sex with Jess. Leo Malouf had purportedly been lying awake in his bedroom next door and testified that he heard no sounds of dissent or requests to stop (in fact, he heard laughter and giggling). The fact that the boys had been intoxicated too blurred the whole consent issue. The fact that the girls had waited a week to report the assaults to the police drew question to their motives, as well as having the effect of vital evidence no longer being detectable. The fact that the jury was composed of largely middle-aged to elderly people, with only four women. Megan and Jess were too naïve to understand the jury selection process and the use of pre-emptive challenges. The system had started to work against them even before a word was uttered in the courtroom.

The boys were acquitted. No sentencing. No victim impact statements. No further discourse on the many ways in which the girls had been affected. Those precise questions had left so much unsaid. Megan ended up writing her own victim impact statement as a form of self-therapy: I was not a ‘willing participant’. I did not want to lose my virginity that night. My trust in people, and in the world, has been shattered. The only person who read her statement was her mother.

*

Megan is meeting Jess at her apartment, in Pymble. The street is one of leafy trees and old wealth. She parks her ten-year-old Toyota between two fat BMWs.

The lift is small and slow to arrive. Megan is beginning to consider the stairs when the bell finally pings. An elderly man and woman are inside.

‘Come on, Harry. We’re keeping everyone waiting.’

Megan sticks out her arm to hold the doors open. ‘Take your time.’

‘Sorry we’re so slow, dear. Come on now, Harry.’

Poor Harry looks confused. Dementia? ‘Where are we going, Bev?’

‘We’re going for a walk, Harry.’

Not very far, by the looks of things.

Jess’s door is on the latch and Megan knocks lightly before letting herself in. The interior is a surprise. Large windows, high ceilings, soft natural furnishings.

‘I’m in the kitchen,’ Jess calls out.

The kitchen is a galley one. A large, expensive-looking coffee machine sits on the counter, along with a fresh latte. A teabag and boiling water are brewing in another cup. Jess is wearing gym wear, her hair scraped