Page 83 of Broken Silence
Linda half-smiled and moved on. “Now, Miss Farrell, we are obviously here today because your father, Mr Farrell, sold you and other children to Mr Frank Glosser for the purpose of sex—”
“Objection,” my father’s defence lawyer, John Bee, cut in. He stood up, towering above everyone else and faced the judge. “Leading.”
The judge, a short, plump woman, leant forward a fraction. “Sustained.”
Linda was told not to lead the jury to a conclusion when the charges were alleged.
Alleged.
It made it sound like I was lying. Did the judge and jury think I was lying?
I couldn’t think like that. By the end of my testimony, they were going to know I wasn’t.
It didn’t seem to faze Linda at all. She turned back to me and continued. She read out a list of the charges and asked if I understood them.
The charges were administering a substance with intent to commit sexual offences; trafficking within the UK for sexual exploitation; controlling a child prostitute or a child involved in pornography; causing or inciting child prostitution or pornography; production of indecent photographs of children; possession of indecent photographs of children; abuse of position of trust, causing or inciting a child to engage in sexual activity; and sexual assault on a child.
The last one, in particular, turned my stomach, and I almost gagged. It was something I already knew. One of his victims had already given evidence, but I wanted to throw up every time I heard it.
Ihatedhim.
My eyes drifted to the jury and then back to Linda. I didn’t look for long, not wanting them to feel like I was trying to manipulate them.
Twelve men and women. They held so much power.
Swallowing the urge to sob, I focused on Linda. “Yes. I understand the charges.”
“Miss Farrell,” Linda started again, smiling encouragingly.
I wished she would just call me by my first name. Farrell wasmy dad. Why hadn’t I thought to change it? To take Mum’s maiden name.
“On or around the twentieth of September 2019, did you make contact with the Clearview Police Department?”
“Yes.”
“What was your reason for contacting them?”
“To report my father for offering me to his friend—”
“Objection,” John roared. “The witness is being led.”
“Overruled,” the judge responded. “Miss Farrell, you may answer the question.”
I wanted to stick my finger up at John as he shrank back to his seat.
“I reported my father for allowing his friend to sexually abuse me.”
“Miss Farrell, can you recall the first time this happened?”
I couldneverforget. “Yes, it was when I was five.”
“How do remember that you were five, since that was so long ago?”
“Because it was shortly after my teddy-bear picnic party, which was for my fifth birthday.”
The side of Linda’s mouth tugged so quickly that I almost missed it.
Keep going.
