Forgive Me

by Susan Lewis

  She hadn’t expected those words to cause a small murmur in the room, so she paused, trying to gauge what it meant, until Gordon Lock nodded for her to continue.

  “As I read about Archie in his own words, I gained an insight into a world that I knew very little of, although we hear about it on the news, of course. It just doesn’t usually have much to do with our own existence. His is the kind of world where poverty and corruption are realities, not just news stories, and where it’s hard for children to flourish even with two parents. Archie has only a mother who loves him very much, as he does her.

  “So, through these letters our attacker was coming into a different sort of focus. He was no longer an evil stranger who had appeared from nowhere to try and destroy us, he was a person, a boy really, who’d been exploited and forced into crime at a very young age. He might have had the courage to try and resist his handlers, as he calls them, and to get on with his schooling, but for the threats made to his vulnerable mother. She was even beaten in front of him if he didn’t agree to do as they wanted.”

  She took a breath, and sipped from the glass of water in front of her. “I believe,” she continued, “that were it not for the man who exerted the most malevolent power over him that Archie would have gained the education he needed, and wanted. You’ve heard about his potential and willingness to learn, so who knows what he could have achieved with the right opportunities. He might even have found a way to get himself and his mother out of the negative environment they were in.

  “Unfortunately, it didn’t happen. He remained trapped in the grip of a man from whom he had to defend himself and his mother in any way he could. It was to try and keep his mother from harm that he carried out the trafficking that was forced on him, whether it was drugs, weapons, or mobile phones. Then one day he was ordered to break into a house to steal an attaché case believed to be inside. That house was—is—mine and my daughter’s. My granddaughter also lives with us. When he broke in Archie was unable to find the case and that was when he was instructed to burn the place down.”

  She needed to give herself a moment now, for she wasn’t really connecting with the rest of the courtroom any longer, only with what she was saying, and possibly with Archie.

  “Before I say any more about the arson,” she continued, “I want to tell you about the way Archie’s letters seemed to unlock something inside me. Until I read them my psychological recovery hadn’t been going well. I was unable to relate fully to my family, or to anyone else. I had difficulty finding words, so for the most part I stopped trying. I understood that I was suffering the after-effects of trauma, but even so I remained shut down. I couldn’t see the point of trying to release myself when I looked the way I did. I was no longer me on the outside, and every time I looked in the mirror I felt sure I could never be the same on the inside either.

  “I can’t really explain why having contact with the person who’d caused me so much harm became the catalyst for the next stage of my recovery, I can only tell you that it did. Perhaps it was because I realized that hating him and wishing him harm was never going to help me; it was simply going to continue to make me less of a person than I’d been before. I was moved enough by his letters to see him as a young man who wasn’t only sorry for what he’d done, but who, like me, was a victim of those who’d ordered the fire, and who, again like me, was probably going to suffer the consequences of it for the rest of his life. He had a conscience and he had a mother, and that made him so much more than just an arsonist.”

  Sipping more water, she took another glance at her notes and raised her head. “I am fully persuaded,” she said, “that when Archie Colbrook acted that night it was with no malice toward me and my family. In fact, I believe without reservation that when he claims that he watched the house beforehand to make sure we’d left, he is speaking the truth. We did leave, but because I was unwell we only got to the end of the drive before I decided to go back.

  “It is perfectly possible that Archie didn’t see me return. It was dark, and if he was at the back of the house it would have been impossible for him to know what was happening at the front. Also, when I went inside I didn’t turn on any more lights. We’d left some on, so there was nothing to alert him to the fact that anything had changed.

  “What I’m saying is that I don’t believe he acted with a reckless disregard for human life. It’s the person who wanted the attaché case who should be held to account for this crime, but we aren’t able to do that here, today. Please don’t think I’m saying that Archie shouldn’t also be held to account, he is the one who set the fire and though I know he deeply regrets it, he understands very well that he has to bear responsibility for it. This is why he has pleaded guilty to the first count of arson. He is not trying to run away from what he’s done, unlike those who are hiding behind him.”

  She took another glance at her notes and looked at the jury again. “I will end now by saying that I strongly believe in the power of forgiveness, and in meeting Archie and forgiving him I have learned how positive that has been for my mental health. I’ve also learned how important it is to hear the other side of a story: to find out who someone is and why they behaved the way they did. Now, when I think of Archie I think of a young lad who had a difficult start in life, but who would have achieved so much given the right opportunities—and perhaps he still could, given the right outcome from this trial. Finding him not guilty on the second count could give him a belief in the justice system, and also a belief in himself that will enable him to turn his life around.

  “I’m told that copies of the letters he wrote to me will be made available for you to read when you leave the court to deliberate your verdict. As you get to know him in his own words, as I did, I hope you’ll agree that his honesty speaks to his integrity, and that his remorse is as present in the very fact that these letters exist as it is in what he says. It took as much courage for him to engage in the restorative justice process as it did for me. I am glad I did, and I know that he is too. It has given me a lasting belief in the power of compassion and in redemption. Thank you for listening.”

  The room fell into silence, and she wondered if anyone could hear her heart pounding. For a bizarre moment it sounded as though someone started to applaud, but it suddenly stopped. She looked at the prosecutor, waiting for him to get to his feet to start taking apart everything she’d said. He probably wouldn’t do it in a cruel or aggressive way, she’d been advised, as that wouldn’t get the jury onside, but it was their job to secure a conviction for the endangerment of life, and the true letter of the law said that they should have one.

  Finally, the bewigged and bespectacled middle-aged man rose from his chair and announced to the judge that he had no questions. Marcy blinked and looked at Gordon Lock, who gave a brief nod. A moment later she was being escorted from the witness box.

  It was over. She’d said what she wanted to say, told Archie that he was worth fighting for, and now she was ready to go home.

  Chapter Fifty-One

  You blew me away today in court. I thought after Helen gave you my note that you’d feel glad to be off the hook, I know I would have if I was you. But even if you did feel that way you still got up there and did it. I just can’t get my head round you speaking up for me like that, me, someone who’s brought nothing but grief to your life.

  I want to say thank you—I am saying thank you—but it doesn’t seem big enough. Nowhere near. I’ve got to think of something else, something that tells you properly just how filled with respect and gratitude I am. And impressed by the courage it must have taken for you to get up there like that in front of everyone.

  I think the jury was pretty blown away by all you said too. Definitely not what they were expecting. Makes me wonder what they’re thinking about tonight, but I’m afraid of going too far with that. Obvs I’m still going down, we know that, but what you did today could make all the difference between a fifteen stretch and the five years Helen reckons is the best-case scenario
for the other charge.

  Mr. Lock says there could be a verdict as early as tomorrow. Honest to God I didn’t expect to be this keyed up when it came time to finding out how much longer I have to be in here, but I’m going to get whacked if I don’t stop pacing soon. I just hope they don’t end up transferring me to a prison that’ll be too hard for my ma to get to.

  Anyways, whatever the outcome tomorrow I’ll never forget what you did. Getting to know you has been the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I’m just sorry it came about the way it did.

  Thank you, Marcy (hope you don’t mind me using your name, first time). ☺

  Archie

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  By the end of the following morning both sides had delivered their closing statements, with the Crown reminding the jury that the defendant had committed a very serious offense that they’d seen for themselves had had a devastating—and lifetime—effect on one of his victims. There could be no doubt of a reckless disregard for life: the emergency services, paramedics, and Ms. Kavanagh’s surgeon had all agreed that it was a miracle she hadn’t died that night. And in spite of Archie Colbrook’s remorse and engagement with Ms. Kavanagh being admirable, wouldn’t it be a very wrong and even dangerous message to send to anyone considering a similar offense if the proper verdict of guilty was not returned?

  Gordon Lock’s summation was shorter and focused almost entirely on Marcy’s statement to the jury, using it to remind them that even she, the most gravely injured of the victims, believed that Archie would not have set fire to the house if he’d known she’d gone back inside. Therefore, it surely wasn’t possible to find him guilty of having no regard for life if the victim herself didn’t believe it to be the case. He went on to paraphrase Marcy’s comments about the importance of forgiveness, and to emphasize that the kind of remorse demonstrated by the defendant had so impressed her that it must surely count for something with them.

  Before sending the jury to begin their deliberations the judge reminded them that they did not have to reach a verdict on the first count, only the second, that of being reckless so as to endanger life. She then took some time talking through several points of law before asking them to select a foreman to speak on their behalf.

  Moments later she was gone and everyone was leaving the court.

  “I can’ ea’,” Maria wailed as Andee suggested they get some lunch.

  “I’m not sure any of us can,” Claudia murmured, taking her mother’s trembling hand.

  “Is that it?” Marcy asked. “We don’t come back again until the jury returns?”

  “That’s right,” Andee confirmed, glancing up as Dan came to join them.

  “’ave you see ma boy?” Maria asked him.

  “No, I can’t go down to the cells,” he replied gently, “but Helen and Gordon will go to talk to him. Please try not to worry too much. I know it’s hard, but . . .”

  “’ee migh’ get fifteen,” she reminded him desperately. “Can we ’peal if he does?”

  “Let’s cross that bridge when—if—we get to it. I think for now we need to get some air.”

  THE JURY RETURNED just after three o’clock, having taken only an hour to come to a decision, which no one could decide was good or bad news.

  Maria was seated between Claudia and Marcy in the front row of the public gallery and as Archie was asked to rise for the verdict they each took hold of one of her hands. Her tiny frame was shaking so hard that Claudia wanted to put her arms around her. In the row behind, Dan and Andee both placed hands on Maria’s shoulders, while Jasmine buried her face in Marcy’s arm.

  The room was so tense as the foreman of the jury was asked if the decision was unanimous that his voice as he said “Yes” was almost startling.

  “On the charge of aggravated arson and being reckless as to whether life would be endangered how do you find the defendant?”

  Maria whined under her breath.

  “Not guilty,” the foreman announced, and Maria shot to her feet, punching the air. Before she could cry out Andee gently gagged her and the others tugged her back into her seat.

  Whatever happened now Archie wasn’t going to prison for life, but as the jury was thanked and dismissed, tension gripped them again. The judge was ready to pass sentence for the first count, arson with the intent to destroy property.

  She spoke first about the consequences of committing crimes ordered by others. “It is you who are here in the dock today,” she told Archie sternly, “not those who paid you to commit the offense, and it was always going to be you, because you did not have the good sense to report to the authorities what you were being required to do. I understand the threat to your mother and the need to protect her, but you did not give the police or anyone else the opportunity to assist her safety. As a result, Ms. Kavanagh’s home was severely damaged by the fire you set. I don’t mention Ms. Kavanagh’s injuries here as they were the subject of the second count.

  “There is no doubt in my mind, or in law, that there must be a custodial sentence for the crime you have committed. After studying my options and taking into consideration the restorative justice process that was undertaken—and the eight months you have already spent in custody—my judgment is that you shall receive a two-year prison term . . .”

  “No!” Maria cried. “Don’ sen’ him away.”

  The judge eyed her meaningfully, but waved down an attempt to eject her. “A two-year prison term,” she repeated, “to be suspended for two years and carry with it a community order . . .”

  “What?” Maria said, turning to Dan in confusion. “I don’ . . .”

  “He’s coming home,” Dan whispered.

  Maria stared at him, wide-eyed with shock, and was suddenly back on her feet. “Ochie!” she shouted at the top of her voice. “Ma boy is comin’ ’ome.”

  “Mrs. Colbrook,” the judge warned.

  Marcy and Claudia pulled her back into her seat, and with tears in their eyes they hugged her hard enough to break her birdlike limbs.

  “He comin’ ’ome,” Maria sobbed. “Ma boy is comin’ ’ome.”

  “NOT WHAT WE expected,” Gordon Lock admitted when Marcy and the others found him and Helen in the lobby, “but of course we hoped for it. A wise decision on the part of the judge. It would appear that she believes, as you clearly do, that the lad has potential and it won’t be realized in prison. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a train to catch.”

  “Than’ you,” Maria called after him.

  He turned, smiled, and waved, before disappearing through the revolving doors into a future that didn’t include any of them.

  “What do we do now?” Marcy asked.

  “We go to get Archie,” Helen declared, and holding out an arm for Maria to hook on to she led the way back into court.

  Marcy said to Dan, “It feels wrong to walk away as if we’re strangers now. What usually happens in these situations?”

  “This isn’t like any other,” he told her wryly, “but we don’t have to walk away, we can at least wait to wish him well.”

  “Should we celebrate?” she said, turning to her daughter, who was already looking hostile to the idea. “Do you think they’ll want to come to ours?” She grimaced slightly at the bizarreness of inviting the arsonist back into their home.

  “No,” Claudia said shortly. “It’s out of the question, Mum.”

  Marcy shrugged, not arguing.

  “There you all are,” Richie declared, coming to join them with his voice recorder in hand. “What a story, huh? Didn’t see the suspended sentence coming, I guess none of us did. So now I’m going to need some quotes to get up on the website. Who’s up for it?”

  Henry quickly said, “Speaking on behalf of the family, the judge is to be commended for her understanding of how important it is to give second chances to those who deserve them.”

  Apparently satisfied with that, Richie turned to Dan. “A great triumph for restorative justice today?”

  Dan’s expre
ssion was sardonic as he said, “I’m happy to give you an in-depth at some point to make sure we’ve got everything straight, but for now: I’m extremely pleased by this outcome.”

  “And what next for Archie, do you think?” Richie prompted.

  “Why don’t you ask him?” Marcy replied, and Richie turned to find Archie himself, with his mother clinging to one arm and Helen on the other side of him, coming toward them.

  He seemed taller, Marcy thought, and perhaps less gaunt, smarter too thanks to his suit, although his eyes remained wary and hesitant, as though he wasn’t quite able to believe this was happening.

  Going to him, Dan wrapped him in an embrace. “Well done,” he said warmly. “We’re all pleased with the verdict.” Standing back to look at him, he added, “I trust you are too?”

  Archie broke into an unsteady laugh and Marcy realized this was the first time she’d seen him smile. He was a very handsome young lad.

  His eyes finally came to hers, and not hesitating for a moment she walked toward him, arms open to embrace him.

  “I have to be honest,” she said, through the lump in her throat, “never in my life would I have imagined a day like this, much less actually feeling happy about it.”

  “Yeah, it’s definitely a strange one,” he agreed, sounding emotional and self-conscious. “Like I said in my note, I owe you big-time . . .”

  She waved it away as Jasmine and Claudia came to shake his hand.

  “I ought to be hating your guts,” Jasmine informed him frankly, “we all should, and yet here we are feeling glad about your freedom.”

  He looked unsure of himself, and suddenly seemed so out of his depth that Dan put a steadying hand on his shoulder.

  “You probably want to get home with your mum,” he said, clearly reading the situation correctly given the relief that came into Archie’s eyes. “There’s a lot for you to take in, and there’ll be plenty of time for us two to talk in the coming days. I’ll call you in the morning, OK? I guess you don’t have a mobile, so . . .”