Fit Up

by Faith Clifford

  It did not take long to sell our house and move on to start afresh in an untainted environment. Jeremy continued the business using one of the bedrooms as an office, which also offered enough space for a second desk devoted to the accumulating paperwork of the police case.

  There had been little communication with Allison Grundy since November 2005, almost a year ago, but far from being rid of us, in reality we were only getting started. Jeremy had downloaded a claim form for the High Court of Justice, Queen’s Bench Division. This was duly completed and he made a claim to recover no less than £25,000 and up to a maximum of £150,000, plus the enclosure of our Particulars of Claim. With our study of the Green Books we were able to complete the writing up of our own Particulars of Claim, which was a long document that had to set out the background of the case, what he was accusing the police of and what he expected to claim in damages.

  Our Particulars of Claim was a work in progress. Some evenings if we were not too tired we studied, tweaked or added paragraphs, but we found our best progress on it was made on the weekends. We followed other example papers that we had managed to find online so that we could incorporate the flowery legal language that made our efforts seem so much more impressive.

  There were times when we needed to be distracted from our legal work and I relished being able to get on with some housework or getting lost in a film while ironing. Anything mundane and ordinary made me feel ‘normal’! Jeremy had no real interests in the confines of the house and liked to catch up with friends or play tennis. There was one such afternoon towards the end of September that Jeremy had booked himself a lesson with a tennis coach. Tennis was one of his passions but he had not played or showed any interest in it for some time so I was pleased that he was taking this up again, not just for his sake, but for mine. I needed some time for myself to let my mind go free. However, some two hours later Jeremy returned looking rather troubled.

  Throwing his sports bag down in the hall, he said he didn’t know how he had managed to drive home. Seeing his pale face, I became worried and said he should have called me to pick him up. As I handed him a cold drink he said that he had been playing a match with the tennis coach quite comfortably when it came to him to serve. As he threw the ball into the air and his racket came into contact with it he felt a crack in his neck but could hear it in his ears like the pull of a Christmas cracker. The frightening part was the abrupt feeling of numbness and tingling in the shoulders and down his arms. He had to stop playing immediately because he could not feel the racket in his hand or anything else he touched. Once he had sat down for a few minutes, the feeling returned slowly but his arms still felt rubbery. All he wanted to do after that was get home to safety but I could see that it had clearly frightened him. I suggested that perhaps he had momentarily trapped a nerve or maybe had a muscle spasm, although I could not account for the cracking noise which was much more worrying, although I never said so. Instead I advised him to have a bath, relax a bit and maybe take a nap.

  Later on, as we sat down to our evening meal, Jeremy said that he felt fine and that there were no lingering symptoms. I breathed a sigh of relief and forgot about it.

  It was around this time that we were offered another dog from the same breeder as Sasha and soon we were joined by a lively and mischievous cocker spaniel puppy called Nancy. After her final inoculations, Nancy was able to join us in the park for her first walk in a large open space and it was a chance to get rid of her excess energy. While I concentrated on playing and training her, Jeremy threw Sasha a ball and, although there was no cracking noise, his right arm went numb with a sudden onset of pins and needles in both arms which, this time, remained. After this event he could not determine the denominations of coins in his pocket and was having trouble gripping a pen to write. When he went to lift his arm to remove a box from a shelf he felt the tingling sensation again and it was this, as well as a feeling of depression that threatened to overwhelm him, that prompted him to make an appointment to see the doctor.

  Jeremy was prescribed a low-dose anti-depressant and was referred to a consultant neurologist at the Clementine Churchill Hospital in Harrow, Middlesex. Coordination testing revealed that his left hand was less well coordinated than the right. It was suggested that, clinically, it looked like a spinal cord lesion and an MRI scan was required to confirm this theory.

  A week later the results came back as normal but there was spondylotic change and it was noted that the spinal cord was quite tight, possibly due to inflammation, within the vertebrae at the back of Jeremy’s neck. The consultant wanted to investigate further on the spinal fluid and administer three days of steroids followed by a neurosurgical opinion. This meant a hospital admission for Jeremy as these would be administered intravenously. A lumbar puncture would also be undertaken. The whole scenario was alarming, especially as multiple sclerosis had been thrown into the conversation because a lot of his symptoms were similar.

  It was hard to read Jeremy due to the anti-depressants as he remained fairly deadpan most of the time. He showed neither ups nor downs, and I thought his face would have registered the same expression if he had been told he had won the lottery or something tragic. He dreaded the thought of being in hospital but knew he had to have answers.

  On the morning of 12 October I packed everything that Jeremy would need for his stay. Jeremy drove to keep himself occupied but I could hardly speak for fear of having a good cry. It was a stupid feeling really, because he was only being admitted for tests, nothing major, and in my heart I felt there was nothing seriously wrong with him. Whatever was wrong could be treatable.

  Once Jeremy was settled into his room, the consultant came in to explain the procedures to be undertaken, after which I decided to leave to get back to the dogs. There was nothing I could do and there was no point in hanging about getting in the way of medical staff. I would return later that evening once things were organised at home.

  Jeremy managed to call me a couple of times in between tests so I felt somewhat reassured in that he was coping. I went back to the hospital around 6 p.m. and sat with Jeremy while we watched TV. I soon realised he was asleep and I rubbed his arm to gently wake him to tell him I was leaving. He smiled and said that it would be best not to visit the next night because the journey was difficult, especially after being at work, and he was worried about the dogs being constantly left for hours on end. It was difficult for me to accept; I hated leaving him there, but he was right. I was pleased to be going to work the next day to take my mind off Jeremy and I would be picking him up after lunchtime the next day, so it seemed as if the end of this episode was in sight.

  A week after Jeremy had left the hospital, however, he was back in the consultant’s office for an update and results of the numerous tests.

  The intravenous steroids had shown an immediate benefit and his spinal fluid was under normal pressure. Unfortunately, Jeremy had experienced a downturn just prior to this appointment with significant weakness in his limbs and major fatigue which was not helped by the persistent pins and needles sensations. As a result he was given a prescription for a twelve-day course of steroids, which made him ravenously hungry all the time. This hunger was never satisfied and he quickly put on weight from the constant snacking, which I tried hard to discourage. It was at this time that the consultant decided another MRI was required.

  I now had a doped-up, constantly hungry husband who walked around in a zombie trance. However, he did manage to function enough to carry on working part time and I knew this was the inner Jeremy trying to fight back against the effects of the drugs on his body. He had so many pills to take that I needed to create a spreadsheet to monitor what needed to be taken and when. I was becoming very tired from the constant worry and stress of wondering what could possibly be wrong with my husband. He seemed to be locked away and unreachable to me.

  One night, after getting Jeremy into bed, I followed suit and fell into a deep, exhausted sleep. So deep that I was unaware that he had got up and ha
d made his way downstairs to let the dogs out. One of them must have barked to alert us but that had also gone unheard by me. As I made my way downstairs I could make out Jeremy standing behind the curtains at the patio doors in his dressing gown looking out into the garden. I said he should return to bed while I waited for the dogs to do their business and come back in. In what can only be described as a drunken stupor, he turned and staggered out of the lounge. As he did so, I got the undeniable whiff of dog excrement. I looked down in horror to see the flattened out brown lumps spread along the length of beige carpet and realised that Jeremy had trodden in it. Hearing the stairs creak, I rushed down the hall, turning on the lights as I went, and followed the brown, scuffed, streaked trail. I screamed at Jeremy to stop him going any further up the stairs but it was too late and he had slumped into bed. I pulled back the duvet in a rage – there was so much clearing up to do! He looked at me with alarm, not knowing what had happened until I pointed to his feet, which had dog shit oozing between his toes. I told him to sit up while I got kitchen roll to wipe off the mess. Revolted by the fact that the bed was now dirty and stank, I quickly set about stripping it down but I could not be bothered to remake it too well. I just threw down a bottom sheet and did not bother with a duvet cover. Jeremy had returned from the bathroom after cleaning himself up and I could see he was still too dazed to help with the rest of the house.

  I returned to survey the devastation downstairs. Soon I was on all fours scrubbing the floor, hot tears streaming down my face while snot ran down my nose. I wasn’t crying just because of this incident, these were tears of rage and hatred against the police and the gnawing fear for Jeremy’s undiagnosed health problems.

  The dogs had now come in from the garden and were sitting looking at me guiltily, which did make me giggle although I didn’t let them see it. Finally, I made my way back to bed, spraying air freshener behind me to complete the job, and as I got into bed, Jeremy said sleepily, ‘I thought the carpet felt soft, it was all velvety under my feet!’

  Chapter 26

  TASKS AND TESTS

  November was quite eventful. Jeremy had a review meeting with the consultant who thought that there was a slow improvement but that he should build up his stamina in the next few weeks before he saw him again.

  Grundy had received our amended Particulars of Claim after making representations earlier to the court that she was not accepting our original claim because it was not correct. We had wondered what that meant, only to find out that it was incorrectly addressed to ‘Hertfordshire Constabulary’ and not ‘Chief Constable, Hertfordshire Constabulary’ – an omission of just two words! This was a clear indication as to how she would conduct the case going forward, with nit-picking and undermining just like Fiona Campbell’s form of defence. Jeremy, not being at all well, was losing patience with this litigation, and we realised that we had now been involved with the police just a little longer than we had been married. The Gerard case had been stressful and now it appeared that this one would be going the same way. He felt even more desperate as yet another Christmas and New Year approached, indicating that time was passing us by, so he decided to write to Grundy with a Part 36 offer for £70,000. Grundy’s reply was swift and dismissive of his claim, which would be defended. This was obviously disappointing, yet hardly surprising. We reasoned that it was worth a try in any case.

  It was shortly after this letter arrived that we received the Hertfordshire Constabulary defence from their barrister – with all claims denied. Interestingly, the Statement of Truth with the wording ‘the Defendant believes that the facts stated in this defence are true’ was left unsigned by Colin Challenger from Lamb Chambers in London, the barrister representing the police. Could he not sign it because he did not believe it a truthful document? In the same spirit as Grundy, who returned our Particulars of Claim for omitting two words, Jeremy returned their Defence to request that someone sign the Statement of Truth, adding in the fact that if the defence to a Particulars of Claim does not have a signed Statement of Truth, then it cannot be relied upon as evidence. Furthermore, any statement of case which does not contain a Statement of Truth is liable to be struck out on an application by the court. It probably did nothing to endear him to Grundy, but he enjoyed this moment nonetheless.

  As this was returned we received a request of information from Challenger with almost fifty questions, most of which were about statements made regarding the National Crime Squad officers who brought Operation Ore to the UK. We had a few weeks to reply, which would take us past Christmas, but this was where we were going to find it a bit more difficult as we needed more evidence from other sources. It was like trying to communicate with someone in a foreign language, whereby you spoke with the limited phrases that you knew only for the other side to respond on the assumption that you could understand every word they were saying. It looked like we would be back doing homework over the holidays and not eating, drinking and watching hours of television while the depths of winter got on with its business.

  Five days before Christmas, Jeremy returned to hospital as he was having problems with his left hand, the symptoms of which were becoming worse at night. Sneezing and coughing had created sensory disturbances which extended across his shoulders and arms to create tingling and temporary paralysis. It was suggested that scans and other tests would be repeated as there was still no diagnosis for his problems. More worryingly, however, was the moment the consultant asked if he could be upfront with Jeremy.

  A full and frank discussion took place about the possible diagnosis of his condition, including multiple sclerosis. Jeremy asked what, if it was multiple sclerosis, he could expect as it progressed and was told that he could stay as he was for a long time but, then again, symptoms could get worse and he could even end up in a state of paralysis. He then asked the question that I dared not ask: ‘Is this condition life threatening?’ Recognising that Jeremy wanted honesty, the consultant said, ‘Well, yes.’ He added that he thought Jeremy was taking it all rather well. At this point I dared to steal a look in Jeremy’s direction and it broke my heart to see his sad eyes looking down at the floor. He was trying to take on the enormity of this revelation and, although I was afraid for him and us, I let my defence mechanism kick in – I wouldn’t allow myself to believe it until the diagnosis was confirmed. It was the only way I was going to cope.

  Updating our families on the news was difficult and Jeremy tended to paint a bleak picture. I interjected each time to point out that a diagnosis had not been confirmed, that there were more tests to be undertaken and that we could always seek a second opinion. They were with me and tried to be upbeat and pass on their positivity to Jeremy.

  Needless to say, Christmas was a struggle and it was hard to find any joy in the season but we put on brave faces for both our families’ sake. Soon after, of course, we had our law homework to complete as well. We found that once we had started, we were able to answer quite a lot of questions from the evidence we had in our possession. Just before New Year, however, we knew we had to call upon Duncan Campbell for his help with matters concerning the National Crime Squad as Colin Challenger was suggesting that we were relying on reports we had read in the newspapers and internet, most of which were untrue.

  He came up with the SAG/1 document that Grundy had been unaware of which showed a refund made on one of Jeremy’s credit cards in August 1999. This was further backed up by a log from Landslide, of which CEOP (Child Exploitation and Online Protection) held copies. There was a failed attempt on the same card and a further attempt was made on another of Jeremy’s credit cards from a PC user in Canada, a country that Jeremy had never visited. Duncan said that Hertfordshire Constabulary would have had access to this information from the Landslide database and it seemed that they had merely filleted information to the CPS that they wanted to rely on in the criminal case against Jeremy. If the police had taken notice of this information, they should never have been able to get a warrant to get into our home. There were other
transactions to Landslide, where we still had to provide proof of refunds but it was obvious that there was fraud occurring in Jeremy’s name at that time. Again, it was all about how a case is presented to the CPS and the police or Hopkins had been far from truthful about the interpretation of information they had.

  With our response to Challenger’s request for further information in the post, we turned our focus back to Jeremy’s health and his appointment for an MRI just before New Year’s Eve.

  As if multiple sclerosis was not scary enough, a tumour on the spinal cord had also been mentioned, which made Jeremy decide to seek a third opinion from another neurosurgeon. He immediately discounted the presence of a tumour and, after carefully examining the MRI scans, was not convinced of multiple sclerosis either. He had also asked for a colleague’s opinion and their eventual diagnosis was cervical spondylosis, a wear and tear of the discs in the spinal area of the neck. Although a very painful, but manageable, condition we were relieved that the ‘C’ word and worries about multiple sclerosis had gone away.

  Jeremy wrote to Grundy to inform her that he no longer required an operation due to a more positive diagnosis and that there was no need to delay proceedings any further. Jeremy was now back in the saddle and keen to get things moving.

  Chapter 27

  MASTER EYRE

  Grundy, of course, objected to the case being heard at the High Court and, in her opinion, thought it should instead be held in the County Court because a circuit judge would be more than competent to hear his claim. There was no way we were having this case heard locally, however, as we could not trust a judge to be impartial in Hertfordshire Constabulary’s own back yard. We had received information from one of our contacts, or victims if you like, from one of the Operation Ore cases who had told us that he had had his ‘very strong case’ heard locally and had lost.