by Melissa Hill
“Honey, no, you have to sit back there. What did I tell you before?” she answered kindly. “There isn’t enough room at this table for you, and Dad and I have to sit up here.”
Clara’s brow furrowed as she seemed to digest this, and then she threw an interested glance in Kate’s direction. “Is that Rosie’s mum?”
Moistening her lips, Madeleine replied, “Yes, that’s Rosie’s mum.” She hoped her voice, and Clara’s, was low enough. She didn’t want Kate to overhear.
“Is Rosie going to be here, too?” her daughter asked hopefully.
Madeleine took a deep breath. She wasn’t sure that Clara really understood everything that was going on today. She and Tom had explained to both of the kids that there was an argument of sorts happening because of the fact that both she and Rosie had measles, but she also knew that the intricacies involving such a matter were beyond their comprehension. Hell, the whole thing was still beyond Madeleine’s comprehension and she guessed her daughter was wondering if her classmate was going to be there in the hope of her scoring a playmate in order to break up what would surely be monotonous grown-up stuff.
Wishing again that she hadn’t been duped into bringing the kids, Madeleine answered, “No, honey, Rosie won’t be here.” She didn’t elaborate any further.
But little Rosie O’Hara was in no condition to be here in the courtroom. Madeleine was relieved when she’d heard late last year that Rosie had finally been discharged from hospital. But she also knew that the little girl was receiving ongoing care and that Kate needed the help of a rehabilitation nurse at home.
It was a horrific situation and she felt so sorry for what had happened, but were she and Tom really and truly responsible for all that? She still didn’t think so, but thankfully, she hadn’t been in Kate’s situation, so she had no idea how she would feel.
There but for the grace of God...
In any event, Madeleine couldn’t help but imagine what the presence of a disabled six-year-old in a wheelchair would do to the judge—and their case.
Hopefully, Kate’s solicitor had some class and wasn’t planning on taking a page out of the Matt Townsend legal playbook.
“Oh,” said Clara, digesting this information and taking a glance around at the other people on the nearby benches. “Are there going to be any other kids here?”
Madeleine started to shake her head in the negative when Jake interrupted. “Mum, when is this going to start? How long is this going to take?”
She looked across at Tom and Matt, who were in deep conversation with Michael McGuinness, the barrister who would be representing their side in court throughout the trial. Her husband seemed completely unaware of what they would be dealing with having the kids present, and she felt annoyed afresh. Right, it was supposed to “humanize” them—except for the fact that Jake and Clara were going to be bored, fidgety and wishing that they were anywhere but here.
And if they started acting up, how was Madeleine supposed to deal with them effectively without making a show of herself? Especially when all eyes would be on her, and the reason she and Tom were here in the first place was because of their apparently monstrous parental skills...
Smiling tightly, she did her best to keep an easy expression on her face. “It should be starting shortly, OK, hon?” Jake rolled his eyes. “And I’ll make you a deal. If you can get through this morning, and just play on your iPad and be quiet, we can go to the toy shop later, and you can pick anything you want.”
Jake’s eyes glittered. “Anything?” He was waiting for her to put a monetary stipulation on the deal.
“Up to twenty euro.”
“Fifty,” said Jake.
Madeleine quickly rubbed her right temple. She could feel a headache blossoming behind her eye. Reasoning with her son was like negotiating with a terrorist.
“OK, thirty,” she countered and, despite herself, her mind automatically jumped to her now-defunct Mad Mum blog. Back in the day, this would have been perfect fodder for a column. How to Keep Your Kids Quiet in Court.
But, she thought sadly, those days were long gone.
“Deal.” Jake gave her a thumbs-up.
“Good. Now hush.” She looked over her shoulder. The bailiff had just entered the room, which meant that the judge would be close behind. She placed a finger over her lips and met the eyes of both her children, urging them to busy themselves with their electronics. Then she turned back to face the front of the courtroom. The bailiff cleared his throat and Madeleine felt herself do the same.
Eighteen months of drama, heartbreak, soul-searching and legal preparation had led to this moment.
The trial was beginning.
37
Throughout that first morning, as my and the Coopers’ barristers outlined the circumstances of our case and their central arguments to the judge before first witnesses were called, I caught Madeleine’s eye a couple of times. She seemed focused on keeping her expression neutral, as I’m sure her solicitor coached her to do. Tom Cooper seemed to pointedly avoid looking anywhere in my direction.
I didn’t know him at all before this fiasco, but I remembered hearing from Christine that he was arrogant, and I wondered if he was worried about his ability to keep his temper if he locked eyes with me.
I was shocked when I saw Clara and Jake Cooper in the courtroom with them, though. Both kids looked exhausted and beyond bored.
Seemingly reading my thoughts, Alison whispered, “Can you get much lower than that?”
Declan hushed her. “For the record, Kate, I would not have, nor will I ever suggest you bring Rosie to court.”
I thought of Rosie at home with her rehab nurse, Hazel. I couldn’t even express how glad I still was to have my little girl back with me—if not back to normal.
After all that time in the hospital, at least now she was in a familiar place surrounded by her own things, helping to make her feel more comfortable. My heart dropped ever so slightly when I thought of how much assistance she needed all the time now, and how everything was so much harder due to the fact that we couldn’t have our rented house retrofitted with the kind of features that would make things so much easier. For the first couple of months, because she couldn’t walk—the brain injury robbing her of so many of her physical faculties—she had to sleep downstairs. But wanting her to feel more normal, now I carried her up and, even though she tired easily, she was able to get around herself well enough on the ground floor using a wheelchair. Thankfully, all those long months of rehab had helped her regain some of her upper-body strength and thus the use of her arms, but her legs were still very weak.
On the plus side, she was also little by little becoming more responsive verbally. She worked her hardest to speak to me, even though I knew she couldn’t remember some words and had major problems with pronunciation—another direct result of the damage to her brain caused by the hypoxia.
But, despite it all, she was still my Rosie. She still loved to be hugged and kissed and, while I would do anything to take her frustration away, at least I was able to take some joy in the fact that she was OK.
What I didn’t take joy in was applying to the state for welfare assistance to help pay for some of her needs. Not that it covered much. But at least there was some support, given that there was no question of my going back to work now. I had also been granted Carer’s Allowance, which made my unemployment status official and added a little more to our barely-above-water household income, albeit a pittance.
But now that our day in court was finally here, I was forced to consider the soaring cost of Declan’s legal fees, which, if we lost, would be completely insurmountable.
I couldn’t even contemplate that prospect now.
* * *
Declan flipped through his notes, took a glance at the defendants’ table to gauge their attention and listened as
their barrister, Patrick Nevin, called Dr. Frank Barrett from Knockroe as the plaintiff’s first witness. He knew Kate had been dubious about someone other than he presenting the case in court, but that was how the Irish legal system worked. “The words might be coming out of someone else’s mouth but it’s still my case, still me and how I want to play it,” he assured her.
Now, recalling his first encounter with the Coopers’ GP many months ago, Declan figured him to be an individual who played by the book, no matter how damaging it might be for people he considered his friends.
“Dr. Barrett, thank you very much for being here today,” the barrister began graciously.
The older man nodded and Declan concluded that the Coopers’ GP wasn’t having the best of days. While he presented a gruff exterior, it was obvious that he was in the middle of a professional and personal conflict. Clearly fond of Madeleine and Tom Cooper and their children, he had nevertheless always been uneasy with their anti-vaccination stance.
And the discomfort that he was feeling right then was very visible.
“Dr. Barrett, how long have you been treating Tom and Madeleine Cooper’s children, Clara and Jake?” asked Patrick Nevin.
The older man answered, “Since they were born.”
“How did you originally meet the Coopers?”
The doctor folded his arms across his chest—a defensive posture. “I was Mrs. Cooper’s GP when she was a child, and remained friendly with her late parents.”
“So you have known the family for quite some time?”
“Yes,” said Dr. Barrett. Declan waited a beat to see if the man would add anything to that. Either the doctor was a man of few words or this wasn’t his first court appearance. He was guessing the latter was true.
“Did you encourage Tom and Madeleine Cooper to vaccinate Jake and Clara Cooper when they were babies?” The barrister looked up from his list of questions and met Dr. Barrett’s eyes. The physician didn’t physically blanch, but it was apparent the wheels were turning in his head. There was only the slightest pause.
“I did.”
“I see. And did they take your advice?” Nevin inquired. Of course, he already knew the answer, but still he had to ask.
“No, they did not.”
The barrister nodded. “I see. And did you treat Clara Cooper in March of last year when she became ill with measles?”
Another nod from Dr. Barrett. “Yes, I did.”
“Can you tell us about your experience treating Clara?”
Dr. Barrett remained quiet, he looked at the floor, pondering the question. Finally, he returned his eyes to meet the barrister’s and answered.
“I attended the child at her own house. She did not need to be admitted to the hospital.”
“Couldn’t she have come to your office for treatment, Dr. Barrett?”
“I did not want her to visit the clinic in person,” replied the doctor.
“And why is that, Doctor?”
The frown on the doctor’s face deepened and Declan was sure there was a great inner conflict going on within his heart and mind right then. He also knew that his next answer was going to be bad for the Coopers’ defense.
“Because Clara was highly contagious. And I didn’t want any other children to get sick.”
“Do you make a habit of treating many unvaccinated children, Dr. Barrett?”
“No, I don’t.”
“And why is that?” the barrister pressed.
Barrett’s face reddened, and he grimaced. But he knew he had to answer the question. “Because it’s a huge liability.”
“Why do you continue to treat the Coopers’, then?” Nevin raised his eyebrows as he presented the question.
The doctor sighed. “Because, as I said, I have known them for a long time. That’s why. And I care about the children.”
“Of course you do, of course,” the barrister commented. “And when Clara Cooper got sick, did any other cases of measles present in your office, among your patient population?”
“None in my office. I believe Rosie O’Hara was the only other case in Knockroe at the time, and I do not treat her as a patient.”
“Yes, we are aware of that, indeed,” replied Nevin. “Dr. Barrett, what is your experience pertaining to a situation when an unvaccinated child comes down with a highly infectious disease and spreads it to other children who are not protected—for instance, children like Rosie O’Hara, who through no fault of her own could not be vaccinated as a baby because of a medical condition.”
“I can’t speak about Rosie O’Hara,” replied the doctor shortly. “As I said before, I don’t treat her.”
“Of course, I’m well aware of that. However, my question pertains to how contagious a disease like measles would be among unvaccinated populations.”
“Well,” said the doctor thoughtfully. “Measles is indeed very contagious. Highly contagious. Of course, the belief is that there is a herd immunity of sorts and that the disease might not spread as easily among the unvaccinated while widespread immunity is present.”
Nevin nodded thoughtfully and walked closer to where Dr. Barrett sat in the witness stand. He placed a hand on the wooden ledge that separated them. “And what about in the case of Rosie O’Hara and Clara Cooper; they were in the same classroom. They interacted every day.”
“As both were unvaccinated, I think it’s very likely that the disease would easily pass from one to another. However, there is no way of knowing who was infected first—not when both presented symptoms so close together. Incubation time is not absolute and can vary.”
“Agreed,” said Nevin, wanting to move on and Declan realized Dr. Barrett was saying more than he had in his original preparation. And now he was introducing some doubt based on incubation time, which was obviously better for the defense side.
“Do you believe that this situation might have been prevented if Clara Cooper had been vaccinated?”
Dr. Barrett smirked; he wasn’t going to give such an easy answer. “I think it would have been prevented entirely if both girls were vaccinated.” Then he shrugged. “Again, I cannot speak of Rosie O’Hara’s situation as I am not her physician. However, it’s my understanding that both girls showed symptoms within days of each other, which would be expected with a highly infectious illness among the unvaccinated population. And the mere fact that the girls were in such close proximity—namely sharing the same school classroom—points to the obvious.”
“Objection. Speculation,” Michael McGuinness, the defense’s barrister, intoned.
“Sustained,” said the judge quickly.
“How does measles spread, Doctor?” inquired Nevin, moving swiftly on.
“Well, the short version of it is that measles is a virus, and it lives in the mucus of the nose and throat of one who is infected. It is spread through physical contact, coughing and sneezing, etc. But it’s important to note that infected droplets of mucus can remain active and be passed on by touching for about two hours after a cough or a sneeze, for instance.”
“Thank you for that, Doctor,” Nevin replied. “I’m curious to know, is Mrs. Cooper vaccinated? Did you vaccinate her when she was a child?”
The doctor nodded and relaxed just a little. “Yes, with whatever vaccines were available here at the time. Vaccination protection for measles was not introduced in Ireland until the mid to late eighties.”
“But Mrs. Cooper was vaccinated as per then-current Health Service guidelines?”
“Correct.”
“And why is that, Doctor?”
This earned Nevin a smile from the older man. “Because her parents listened to my advice as a medical professional.”
“But isn’t it correct that Madeleine Cooper and her husband didn’t do that, when the time came to vaccinate their own children?”
The barrister held up his hands. “I apologize, it’s not my intent to be repetitious.”
“Then don’t be repetitious,” put in the judge shortly.
“Again, my apologies,” said Nevin. “Moving on. Are you aware of any reason why the Coopers decided not to vaccinate their children?”
“Yes,” said the doctor.
Declan had to smile. The man had definitely acted as a witness at a trial or two in his career. He seemed loyal to the approach of “mum’s the word.”
“And what are those reasons exactly?” the barrister probed. There was no way that Dr. Barrett was going to be allowed not to elaborate.
The doctor briefly looked at opposing counsel and shook his head. He appeared pained to have to say the words. “The Coopers have some concerns about the MMR vaccine and its connection to autism.”
Declan heard the implied quotation marks around the word concerns.
“But you don’t share these concerns?”
It was a simple question, but Declan knew that a truthful answer here from the doctor would discredit the Coopers enormously.
“No. I do not.”
“And your reasoning is based on?”
The doctor sighed. “Science,” he said. “My reasoning is based on science. Studies have repeatedly proven that there is absolutely no connection between the MMR vaccine and autism.” Barrett paused ever so briefly and then his instinct as a medical professional seemed to overpower his focus on providing direct, to-the-point answers. “Or any other condition, for that matter.”
Pursing his lips, Declan allowed himself a brief glance across to Matt Townsend. The defense’s solicitor looked as if he wanted to throw up. He appreciated the doctor for his honesty, even though the man knew his answers were not benefiting his longtime friends.
Patrick Nevin then decided to enter into a new line of questioning.
“And while you were treating Clara Cooper, were both of her parents in attendance at her bedside?”
