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Authors: Calvin Wade

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The following day, it was my turn. When the

Clerk of the Court

announced me, Margerita McGordon, I felt more nervous than on my
wedding day, forty nine years earlier. I had worn white that day and I
just felt everyone was looking at me thinking,

Wearing white at twenty
nine years old! How ridiculous!

My cystitis had become a hundred times worse because of this
ordeal and the fact that I might need to go to the

Ladies

at any point
made me feel even worse. Obviously I am not saying the trial had caused
my cystitis, but the nerves made me go to the loo even more than I was
doing already. My GP, Dr. Whiteside, had advised me to drink plenty of
water too, which increased the odds that the trial would need to stop.

I took my oath to God and then Mr.Hodkinson, the prosecuting
barrister, began to question me. Mr.Hodkinson was in his late fifties,
he was grey, balding, had reddened, veiny cheeks, like a man who had
enjoyed an affluent man

s life. He was the consummate professional and
although I was visibly shaking when I took the stand, within a couple of
minutes, Mr. Hodkinson had put me at ease. His style of questioning
was very calm and matter of fact and I felt comfortable relating the
events of that Sunday morning in April to him. The court was packed, I suppose a murder trial brings more interested observers in than any
other type of trial, but that did not bother me at all because of how
Mr.Hodkinson made me feel.

Mr. Hodkinson wanted to know exactly what I had heard on that
Sunday morning. I ran through the events of the whole night, packing,
retiring to bed early, due to our very ea
rly morning trip to Manchester
Airport and then relating how we were woken by the two sisters next
door arguing. I told Mr. Hodkinson how the older one, Jemma had
sent the other one away, how Jemma

s mother and Jemma had argued
and Jemma, in some form of head to
head confrontation had warned
her mother to back off , which was followed by banging and then it
went quiet. Mr. Hodkinson seemed satisfied with this, thanked me and returned to his seat.

Mr. Cole-Crallen then questioned me too, on behalf of the defence.

Mr Cole-Crallen was a lot younger than Mr Hodkinson. He was in his
early forties, with a full head of wavy, dark brown hair, poshly spoken,
as Mr Hodkinson had been, it was probably a pre-requisite for barristers
and like Mr. Hodkinson, Mr. Cole-Crallen did everything in his power
to keep me at ease. He sauntered up to the witness box.


Good afternoon, Mrs McGordon. I apologise in advance for asking
this question, a gentleman should not be asking a lady this, but would
you mind telling the court how old you are?

I didn

t mind telling people my age. I would rather shock people by revealing my true age than say a younger age and have people think I
look every day of it.


I am seventy eight years old.

I am sure I heard a gasp from the public gallery.


Really?

Mr. Cole-Crallen seemed genuinely surprised.

You don

t
look a day over sixty, Mrs.McGordon.


Thank you! Wally, .I mean Mr. McGordon, my husband, tells me
that. Thank you!

A double thank you to underline my gratitude.


Now I understand having to testify in a murder trial can be an
ordeal for anyone of any age, but I listened intently to the questions Mr.
Hodkinson posed to you and I think your responses were incredibly
insightful. I must admit, prior to hearing you testify to Mr. Hodkinson,
I thought there may be some doubt about whether or not you could
have confused the date of the incident next door. Now though, having
listened to your answers, am I right in thinking you are one hundred
per cent certain that you heard Jemma, her sister Kelly and her mother
Carole, in the early hours of Sunday 16
th
April?


Yes.


Of this you are certain, because you were going on holiday the
following morning and they were disturbing you. Am I correct?

             

Yes, that

s correct.


And there is no way it could have been the previous weekend?


Absolutely not, no. We were not going on holiday the previous
weekend.


Good! So we now know for certain you heard voices from next door
in the early hours of Sunday 16
th
April.


Yes.


Let

s move on from that then, Mrs. McGordon, I don

t feel it
necessary to labour that point any longer. May I just ask how well
you know the Watkinson family? How long have they been your
neighbours?

Wally calls me Ronnie Corbett sometimes, as I have a tendency to
go into unnecessary detail with certain questions posed of me. I go off
at tangents somewhat. On reflection, this was one of those times.


Wally and I moved to Wigan Road in the summer of 1987. We lived
in Granville Park in Aughton prior to that for twenty nine years. We
had a lovely house there, with an acre of land and a heated swimming
pool, but our two daughters, Karen an
d Paula, have long since flown
the nest and Wally was struggling to keep on top of the garden and I
was struggling to keep on top of the cleaning in the house, so we felt it
was time to downsize. The state pension is next to nothing as well, so
it seemed sensible to utilise some of the equity tied up in the property.
Wally said it would allow him to continue to keep me in the manner
to which I am accustomed. Granville Park is a very much sought after
location, so our house sold in a matter of days and within six weeks, we
had moved to our current home in Wigan Road, which is pleasant but
a lot smaller than Granville Park. Still, it feels like home now.


Were the Watkinsons already living next door when you moved
i
n?


Yes, our house is semi-detached. The Watkinsons live in the ad
joining house.

I suppose this was a bit of a faux pas. I should have said

lived

seeing Jemma was in prison, Kelly had, by all accounts disappeared
off the face of the planet and Carole was dead. As things stood, the
Watkinsons did not live next door.


OK. Thank you. As far as neighbours go, have you been close to
the Watkinsons over the last two years? Would you pop around there
if you were short of coffee?


No. Wally and I hardly know them. I would have been tempted to
call around if we were short of alcohol though. There never seemed to
be a shortage of alcohol there.


What makes you say that?


Jemma

s mother, Carole, the deceased, was always waking us
up. This incident on the 16
th
April was not, by any means, a one-off.
Carole Watkinson was a dreadful neighbour. Utterly thoughtless. Every
weekend there was singing and dancing and shouting, normally in the
early hours of the morning and often this would be followed by other
noises that Wally and I really did not want to hear.


May I ask what sort of noises?


Sexual noises. Carole was very noisy when she had male guests. I
think she wanted the whole of Wigan Road to know what she was up to, not just Wally and I.


So, throughout the course of your two year period, living next door
to the victim, you were subjected to this every weekend?


Pretty much. Sometimes week days too. Obviously, we go to
Majorca whenever we can, so at least that gave us some sort of break
from it.


So Carole Watkinson was generally unruly?


Yes, especially when she had a drink, which was often.


So, we

ve established Carole Watkinson like to let her hair down

.

             
I thought to myself that it was not just her hair that she liked to let
down but if I

d have mentioned her knickers in court, I am sure I would
have found myself in serious trouble.

“…
.but a lot of independent young women like to enjoy themselves,
this does not make them bad people. Did Carole Watkinson give you
the impression that she was a good mother?


Absolutely not.


If you don

t mind me saying, Mrs. McGordon, that seemed a very
firm response, given you have previously told the court that you did not
know the Watkinsons very well.


I could not think of a worse example of a mother.


Why would you say that?


Mother

s need to raise their children in a way that leads by example.
Her example was a drunken, noisy, aggressive and promiscuous one.

             

Aggressive? Why would you say aggressive?


Wally and I would often hear Carole threatening those girls.

Excuse my language, but we would hear her say things like,


If you girls don

t make yourself scarce when Johnny comes round,
you

ll feel the full

f

ing force of my right hook

. She did not say

f

ing
though!


Would Carole Watkinson say things like that or is that exactly
what she would say to her children?


Exactly what she would say except it obviously wasn

t always
Johnny, it could be Frank or Ken or Peter or whoever.

             

Did you ever hear her hitting the girls?

We heard noises. Wally and I presumed they were the noises of Carole striking her children, but as we could not see what was going
on, we couldn

t exactly be sure.


So you thought the victim was striking the defendant but you
cannot be sure?


No.


How often did you presume she was hitting her children?


Recently. At least once a week.


But you cannot be sure.


No.


OK. So just to re-cap, how well did you know the defendant,
Jemma Watkinson and her sister, Kelly Watkinson?

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