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Authors: Calvin Wade

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BOOK: Forever Is Over
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Dad could not help himself.


No, don

t tell me, you were knocking off both sisters! Stupid boy!
The other one

s a murderer son!


She

s not a murderer, Dad!


That

s not what the police think, Richie!

Dad replied.


I said that!

Caroline added.


Look everyone! Let me finish. Kelly saw me in Coronation Park
and I was with Jemma and she was giving me a hug. Kelly saw us and
thought something was going on, but it wasn

t!


Why were you hugging Kelly

s sister?

Mum asked. Mum could
keep quiet when they were all poking fun, but not when there was gossip
to be gleaned.


I found out some news. Jemma was trying to make me feel better.


What news?

Caroline asked.


The news that I

ve got cancer.

The words hung in the air like smoke on a windless day. The world stopped. The door could have swung open and tumbleweed blown by.
Everyone

s brains gathered the information presented to them.


Sorry, what did you say?

Mum was already in denial.


I

ve got cancer, Mum.

I had been brave to this point, but my voice began to quiver. I did
not want to start crying again. Since the lump, I felt like I was always
crying.


Are you sure?

Helen asked.


Yes, I

m sure. I

ve been to the doctor

s, then to see a urologist who
did an ultrasound. It

s been confirmed.
They think
I

ve got cancer, Helen.


What sort of cancer?

Mum wanted to know.


That

s not important right now. It

s just important I get treated and
I get rid of it.


No, Richie, it does matter

Mum was like a dog sniffing out a
bone or in this case, sniffing out a ball, a cancerous one, metaphorically
speaking of course!


It matters a lot.

Mum said.

Some cancers are worse than others,
if you

ve just got a bit of skin cancer, I believe, as long as it hasn

t spread,
that it

s easily sorted. What cancer is it, Richie?


Please, Mum. Leave it. It

s not important.


Is it bowel cancer?

Caroline asked, concluding it was a cancer I
would be embarrassed to have.


No.


Testicular cancer?

she guessed again.

I said nothing.


Shit, Richie!

Dad exclaimed.

Helen and Caroline started crying. Mum stayed composed. Angry
but composed.


How long have you known?

Mum asked.


A few weeks.


You

ve known for a few weeks and you could not find it in your
heart to tell me! Your own mother! Why?


I

m sorry, Mum.


I

m not looking for an apology, I

m looking for an explanation.
Why did you not tell me?


I just needed to deal with it, myself, first!


No, you didn

t! You told that girl! Kelly

s sister. You just said she
was there for you. She hugged you. After everything I

ve done for you,
Richie, I can

t believe you didn

t tell me!


Does it matter, Dot?

Dad asked.

The lad

s telling us now.

Mum lost it.


It matters
to me! You may have been out every day, frittering
away your hard earned money on some useless donkey, only fit for the
knackers yard, but whilst you have been doing that, I have been raising
our kids. Teaching them right from wrong. If any of them ever had a
bump on their head or fell over and cut their knee, they would always
come to me and I would fix it.


You can

t fix testicular cancer, Dot.


Well I could have tried!

Mum was getting really upset now.


And I still will try, but Richie

s given it a few weeks head start on
me now. There

re people I need to speak to, Doctors, nurses, consultants. I
just wish I

d known sooner, if I

d have known sooner, I

d have spoken to
everyone by now. Richie would be getting the right treatment now.


Mum! I am getting the right treatment! They

re going to take it
away!


The cancer? They

re going to take the cancer away?


Hopefully. They

re going to remove my testicle.

I hated saying that. It felt like I was saying I was incontinent, that I
was sitting there having soiled my pa
nts. Stupidly, I felt ashamed.

             

Do they have to?

Mum asked.

I laughed through the first sign of tears.


Believe me, Mum! I would not be agreeing to it, if they didn

t have
to. I don

t want to be on the morticians slab with two testicles. I

d rather
be here with one.

Mum sobbed now. I surprised myself by managing to recover my
composure. She stood up and moved towards me. Kneeling down
besides my chair, Mum hugged me hard. I hugged her hard back.


You

ll be OK, son. You

ll beat this! I know you

ll beat this!


I know I will, Mum. I

ll be OK.

Helen and Caroline stood up. They came over tearfully, to create a
mass emotional hug.

Jim looked on. He told me later that Dad looked crestfallen, I
couldn

t see through the hugs. Jim stood up.


Come on, Dad. Come and show me, Desert Orchid. Let

s leave them to it. We

ll speak to Richie later.

Moments later Peter O

Sullevan

s excitable commentary could be
heard above the tears. Brave Dessie. I hoped his trainer had bottled
that bravery because I felt that I could do with borrowing some. I knew
right then that I would need tons of it in those testing weeks that lay
ahead.

Margerita McGordon

 

I was always uncomfortable about giving evidence at a murder trial.
Wally was fine with it, he just felt it was our duty to testify, but from
the moment Paula, our daughter, urged us to phone Ormskirk police
station to the moment I stood down from the dock at Preston Crown Court, several months later, I had butterflies in my stomach. When I
complained to Wally, he just laughed it off and said,


They can

t be butterflies, Rita, butterflies only live for a couple of
days!

From what the police said, there was additional pressure knowing
that our statements were pivotal to the case against Jemma Watkinson. I
felt very peculiar about the whole thing. Wally and I could be responsible
for sending this young girl to jail, yet neither of us really knew whether
she was capable of murdering her mother or not. She was certainly
capable of rowing and shouting, but murder? It

s hard to think of anyone
that you would think is evil enough to commit a murder. All we were
certain of, was that Jemma had been awake when her mother had
returned that night, yet her statement to the police insisted she was
asleep. She was certainly hiding something.

Paula bought me a new outfit for the trial. After giving evidence
to the police, Wally and I both had to sign statements. A few days
later, we read in the Ormskirk Advertiser that a nineteen year old had
been arrested and charged with the
murder of Carole Watkinson, we
subsequently received letters saying that we may or may not have to
testify at the trial of Jemma Watkinson at Preston Crown Court in
December 1989. We were told to be mindful of the trial dates and be
available if required. Once we received those letters, Paula said there
was absolutely no way that we would not have to go to court and she
took me to Sophie

s, a ladies dresswear shop in Ormskirk , next to the
bus station, to get a smart new outfit. Paula paid for a white blouse and
a grey and black checked skirt for me, which was knee length. I could
wear black tights underneath it. Both the lady in the shop and Paula
suggested I may want to try trousers with the blouse, but ladies of my
generation are just not comfortable in trousers and I certainly did not
want to be up in the dock with everyone on the jury thinking I was
mutton dressed as lamb. Smart, intelligent lady was the image I wanted
to convey.

Why the police needed both Wally and I to testify, I

m not really
sure. Our statements were virtually the same, we had been in bed next
to each other when Carole had died. We had both heard the same
things, but Wally remembers detail so much better than me, I just wish
he could have sorted it all out. I just kept hoping they would only ask
Wally to court and not me. When the letters arrived though.
my heart
sank, they needed both of us.

Wally was called to give eviden
ce before me. When he came out
of the court he did not look in the slightest bit phased. He looked
more flushed when he had been around to our Karen

s to sort out her
electrics, the previous week. Wally re-assured
me that it was all very
straightforward and that everyone in court had been really polite and
courteous.


All we are doing Rita is confirming what we heard. It

s not a test,
no-one is trying to catch us out. We are just here to tell them, what we
heard. Let the judge and jury draw their own conclusions.

BOOK: Forever Is Over
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