Babs’ New Year’s Resolution 103

© Beverly Taff.

Lola Smith Bab’s adopted trans daughter.
Callista Denton (Callie). Transgendered Duchess of Denton.
Margaret Denton (Maggie). Callie’s wife.
Molly Denton Callie’s grandmother
Ellie Denton Callie’s mother.
Bab’s Barbara Smith. Lola’s adoptive ‘Nana’
Olivia Smith Bab’s adopted daughter. Lesbian black artist
Angela Smith Bab’s adopted daughter Olivia’s lover
Erica Powers Bab’s foster daughter.
Sergeant Bridie Davies Lady Police detective protecting the girls.
Sergeant Brian Davies. Bridie’s twin brother.
Inspector John, Heading up the anti-rape-gang operation.
Gareth Jenkins, Police office trained in firearms and protection.
Belinda Harrington Lola’s university girlfriend.
Aaron Talbot Surgical registrar – married to –
Shirley Talbot Lecturer at Local university.
Mickey Talbot Aaron and Shirley’s oldest son.
Jessica Talbot Aaron & Shirley’s middle daughter.
Bianca Talbot Aaron & Shirley’s youngest daughter.
Henry Denton Callie’s only son.
Charlotte Denton Callie’s only daughter.
Beverly Callie’s maternal great aunt (Ellie’s paternal aunt)
Wendy Smith Beverly’s Operations Manager for Hull
Louisa Wendy’s Daughter
Griselda & Mia Wendy’s younger twin daughters.
Susan Harvey Prosecution counsel advocating for Erica.
Han’s The policeman’s son Erica fancies
Uncle Phillip CIA Agent.
Emily Jackson. Texan girl Kidnapped to Holland & Turkey
Sandra Jackson Sister to Emily kidnapped in Texas as a hostage.
Eddie Emily’s Tandem surfing partner.

Chapter 103

The following morning, it was Angie’s turn to take the stand. She was far less nervous after having admired Erica’s performance the previous afternoon and she decided to make a point of not swearing on the bible.

As the usher withdrew her offer of the ‘book’ the defence counsel ignored the cameo and plunged in with the same tactics she had used against Erica previously.

Firstly she confirmed that Angie was a long-standing friend of Erica’s and then she trolled through Angie’s history. She came to the pertinent facts of the abduction and trafficking reasonably quickly.

Angie’s abduction had involved a lot more grooming but the pattern had been the same even to her having first been moved from the streets of London to Nottingham and thence to Amsterdam. Much of her evidence supported Erica’s testimony and the Jury were getting a deep insight into all the social and abusive aspects of the gang’s trafficking organisation.

Angie had not had much contact with Emily the older Texan sister up until Turkey but their experiences just before being rescued had certainly caused the jury to stir in their seats. The defence counsel tried to brush over the events after Angie’s rescue but there was no hiding them.

As the evidence unfolded, Angie was able to refer events in the timeline of the case to her subsequent slow escape from prostitution and troubled ascent from the dregs of care in the London Juvenile home, to her later being fostered by Babs.

Her eventual graduation to study Maths and Physics at the Prestigious ‘Imperial College’ in Kensington, London finally demonstrated to the jury that wayward, damaged girls like Angie could escape the sex trafficking traps. Once given a chance.

In a desperate attempt to try and discredit Angie, the defence counsel alluded to Angie’s relationship with Olivia. Angie sensed it coming and carefully gathered her thoughts as she tried to anticipate different methods of attack.

“You girls live together I’m told.”

“When we’re home, yes.”

“Do you share a room.”

“Not usually. We have our own bedrooms,” Angie replied, “but we share an interconnecting bathroom.”

“What d’ you mean, ‘Not usually’!?

“Exactly that. We all of us have suffered traumatic assaults and experiences. When things get on top of any of us, the others rally round. That includes a comforting cuddle sometimes. It gets pretty lonely when the night-horrors come to call. Naturally when one of us needs a cuddle or a hug, we sometimes fall asleep while being reassured – by each other.”

“Is this a regular thing?” The defence counsel sprang the question hoping to find some additional gap to prise open.

Angie leaned back in the witness box in a posture that seemed to exude a ‘couldn’t care less’ attitude as she shrugged.

“What d’you mean by ‘regular’? Night horrors are not like a bus schedule. It’s on an ‘as-and-when-needed’ basis.

The counsel cursed herself silently. She should have asked bluntly, if Angie shared the bed but she missed the opportunity and it would have been too obvious if she had raked over the coals. The black kid had almost completely de-sexed the counsel’s angle of attack and thus disarmed it.

It was hard to hector a kid about sexual deviancies when the kid had actually survived such deviant abuses. The kid in front of her had probably endured more and learned more about such abuses than any officer of the court; and yet, she seemed completely un-perturbed by any allusion to anything sexual. The counsel reluctantly felt a sneaking admiration for all of the girls because they had held up magnificently under the most testing and oppressive inquisition.

At the end of the week following several brief recalls to the witness-box, the defence counsel was actually fatigued. She had exhausted just about every avenue of attack and she was secretly glad for the weekend break.
ooo000ooo

“Is that definitely it for us?” Angie asked the prosecutor as she stepped down from the witness box on the Friday afternoon.

“Well for you girls, yes. Unless we find something unexpected. On Monday Emily and Sandra have to face it.”
Lola gave the Texan sisters an encouraging smile.

“We’ll be there for you girls and this weekend we’re gonna really grind through the really shitty stuff. Believe us, it really helps to talk about it and inoculate yourselves against it. It’ll hurt, that we can promise you, but the more you talk about it and accustom yourselves to it the less traumatic it becomes with each encounter.”

“Yeah, and jus’ remember.” Erica added. “We’ve all been through it and we won’t be judging you. We’ll talk about it all through this weekend to inure you to the shitty pain. The more you talk about your deepest hurts; the better you’ll be when arguing with their counsel. It’s good to talk.”

“Ain’t that the truth!” Olivia finalised as they clambered into their APC.

“There’s one more thing,” Angie observed as she slumped down into the
APC.”

“Go on?” Sandra queried.

“Well you guys speak Spanish so you’ll be able to do the same for the Guatemalan victims as we do for you.”

“Our Spanish is not that good,” Emily objected.

“It’s not just the language, it’s the empathy and mutuality,” Sandra remarked to her sister. Any sympathy is better than nothing at all. I’ll bet the prosecution counsels are drilling them like bloody marines even as we speak but our shared shit is what will count. When you’re standing in that lonely bloody witness box; there’s nothing better than seeing those ugly British mugs offering encouragement and support.

Once the APC’s were parked in the hotel underground, the girls clambered out and joined the procession to the hotel foyer. After a brief head count, they left to get cleaned up before dinner.

That weekend Emily and Sandra were subjected to an intensive bout of grooming by the lawyers and by the Monday they were primed ready to face the courtroom ordeal.

That same weekend, both Texans and Brits came closer to the Guatemalan victims as interpreters strengthened the case against the traffickers. The saddest aspect of the case was seeing the sheer desperation in the victim’s eyes as they desperately sought the death penalty for the traffickers. It was a sobering realisation that for the Guatemalans, the death penalty was the only way to reassure them that they would be free of the traffickers clutches.

That following week of hearings finally concluded the case and by the Thursday the jury were sent to deliberate their verdicts. They sat for three days over the weekend, and, for the Guatemalan girls it was three days of sheer terror.

Finally, the verdicts of the jury were delivered.

Various degrees of guilt were determined then once again, the girls were forced to wait before the judge delivered the sentences. A further week ensued before the girls sat en-masse in their gallery to listen to the sentences handed down by the judge. They were not disappointed.

For the British girls it was an eye-opener to see the overnight changes in the Guatemalan girls as they realised they were finally free of the gang.
They could get on with their lives after receiving the promised citizenship papers and joining the witness protection scheme.

As they sat on that final night around the dining table, the Guatemalans fingered their shiny new passports. One of them asked Erica to show them her new passport.

Erica smiled then wagged her head softly as she produced her travel worn booklet.

“I don’t need a new passport darling. This one does nicely.”

The End.