Page 129 of Maybe Tomorrow

At the back of the room, behind the wall of journalists, DI Freya Sloan and her husband Chris Tyler, had sneaked in to watch the proceedings.

Freya’s boss was keen for her to be involved and show North East Police in a good light. One of their detectives, by her refusal to give up and with dogged determination, had blown a department wide open and evidence had been found to release an innocent man from prison. She refused to be part of a propaganda piece and let her boss know that several of the detectives working under Henry Bishop were still on the force today. Very little had changed.

However, she was eager to see how the press conference unfolded and, when Jennifer mentioned her name in her opening speech, she felt a warm sense of pride. Chris, holding her hand, gripped it a little tighter, looked at her and smiled.

Journalists were talking over each other to get their questions heard. Jennifer stood up and waved at them to quieten them down. Eventually, they came to some kind of an order. She pointed to one of the reporters in the front row.

‘How did it feel, Anthony, to walk out into fresh air for the first time in a decade?’

Anthony took a long, deep breath. Beneath the table he was holding his mother’s hand. He gripped it harder. ‘It felt nice.’

The room fell silent, waiting for him to elaborate. He didn’t.

The journalist glanced at Jennifer who nodded at her to ask a further question.

‘It… erm… it must be a good feeling knowing you’re going to be sleeping in your own bed tonight.’

‘I’m sleeping in a hotel tonight,’ he said.

Jennifer chose another journalist.

‘Anthony, what have the last ten years been like for you?’

Anthony looked at the journalist and thought about the question for a moment. ‘Long,’ he said. There was a small ripple of laughter. ‘Frightening,’ he added. The room fell into silence again. The cameras stopped flashing. ‘Sad. It’s been hell.’ His words sounded raw and heartfelt.

Pauline looked at Jennifer with tears in her eyes. Jennifer instructed another reporter to ask a question.

‘What are you looking forward to the most about being out, Anthony?’

Jennifer smiled. A more upbeat question.

‘Steak and chips,’ Anthony said.

The mood of the room lifted.

‘And I believe Pauline’s going to be making him an apple pie,’ Jennifer said with a huge smile.

‘I’m going to try. It’s been a while. I hope I haven’t lost my touch,’ Pauline added.

‘Pauline, how do you feel about today?’ a reporter asked. ‘You must have thought today would never come.’

Pauline took a sip of water. ‘There were times where I thought I’d never get him home, but they were only fleeting. I’ve had people around me– Leo, Jennifer and Freya– who’ve never stopped fighting and believing and giving me hope. Today is the best day of my life. It truly is. I could not be happier.’

‘When’s the wedding?’

She gave a light chuckle. ‘That’s something for all three of us to plan and talk about. Maybe next year.’

‘Anthony, do you have anything to say about the justice system in this country?’ a reporter at the back of the room shouted. ‘You’ve spent ten years in prison for a crime you had nothing to do with. You’ve been beaten up so many times. You’ve been blinded. How do you feel?’

All eyes turned to Anthony. Even Jennifer looked to him with her mouth open. She wondered how he was going to react to such a personal question.

Anthony looked directly at the journalist who’d asked him the question. It was a while before he replied.

‘Why did it have to happen to me?’ he said, quietly. ‘What did I do wrong?’ he asked, his voice croaking with emotion. ‘Why me, Mum?’ He turned to Pauline.

He started to cry, loud enough for all to hear. Pauline put her arm around him and pulled him close to her.

‘I think we should leave it there,’ Jennifer said, raising her voice above the shuffle of journalists trying to get a better view of a mother comforting her distraught son. ‘As I said, today has been overwhelming for all involved.’ She instructed Leo to help Pauline take Anthony off the stage. ‘Anthony needs a few days to reacquaint himself to a life of freedom. I’m sure you all understand.’