The Sean Bateman Trials - by Kaz.
CHAPTER SIX
Sean Bateman sat in the dock of the Crown Court where he was forced to listen to what he thought were "lies." Lies about him. Lies about what he had done. He had pleaded not guilty. He was not guilty. He failed to see what he had done wrong.
Why does no one believe me?
They were queuing up to believe that little tart. What about him? What about what he was going through?
They did not care. They did not care about him. Vultures from the press circled outside the large court building, forbidden to enter. He had been smuggled in under a dark blanket. He could still see the blinding white flashes as cameras clicked all around him. He could still hear the things they were calling him.
They did not know the truth. They believed what they wanted to believe.
No member of the jury looked at him. But they did show some sort of emotion when Jane Warren took the stand to spout her lies. They believed her, he knew. She was so convincing.
Sally had been so like her. They both lied, which was a start. If anything, Jane had been worse. She had agreed to marry him. Why would she have done that if she did not mean it?
She did not know what she wanted. He was nice, she led him on. He wanted more, she wanted to stop playing. She did not realise that she was in too deep to quit. She got what she wanted, only she failed to realise that.
I have done no wrong.
His lawyer would sort it out. After all, that was what he was being paid for. He started to cross-examine Jane, trying to get her to confess to her lies. She failed to fall for his ploys.
"Is it true you agreed to marry the defendant?"
Jane paused, not wanting to answer the question.
"Miss Warren?" Mr Barron-White, the tall lawyer in the short white wig, pressed the question for the defence case.
"I object," the short lawyer for the prosecution stood up to make his objections known. "We have already established that the defendant lived in a fantasy world. I fail to see where my learnard friend is leading with this line of questioning."
"Mr Barron-White?" the stern looking judge in his fifties also questioned the defence lawyer.
"I want to establish the truth Your Honour. A number of witnesses support my client. I simply wish to obtain the truth."
"Hmmm," the judge considered the question. "Very well. Overruled, Mr Fitzjohn."
Mr Fitzjohn, the prosection lawyer, shook his head and sat back down on the wooden bench as Barron-White turned back to Jane.
"Well Miss Warren?"
"I…" she started. "Yes."
"And you considered that not to be leading my client on?"
"I tried to tell him, but he wouldn't take no for an answer. I finished the relationship."
"So you admit to having a relationship with the defendant?"
"Yes, but it doesn't change the facts."
"And what facts might those be, Miss Warren?"
"He raped me."
"Ah yes, and why is it that it has taken you four years to come to that conclusion?"
"I was scared. He said he would kill me, I thought he would. You can't tell me that you have never been scared of someone."
"I have no further questions," Barron-White sat back down on his side of the wooden bench.
Mr Fitzjohn then took up the questioning. He wanted Jane to tell the court what she had been through.
From the gallery, Sally listened as Jane described events so like the ones she had experienced. Rob sat next to her and put a comforting arm on her shoulder. Bateman had seen them. He looked up briefly and grinned.
As Jane went over her trauma, Sally felt
tears in her eyes as she recalled her own version of events. She did not
want Bateman to see her cry. She knew he would take nothing but pleasure
from it.
Fitzjohn tried to put Jane at ease as she went over events. In her mind, Sally also found herself going over events of that night.
The night Sean Bateman had invited himself in to her flat.
The night he ignored her pleas for him to stop touching her.
The night he gained total control of her body. Made her feel worthless.
The night she tried to fight back but found herself paralysed with fear as he ripped her clothes off and discarded them around the flat as he pushed her towards the bedroom. His hands on her arms, forcing them against her side so she could not fight back as he pushed her on to the bed.
He then put his hand over her mouth so she could not scream. She had tried to scream, but no sound came out. She wanted to fight, he slapped her smartly on the cheek and told her to be a good girl.
He kept saying he was giving her what she wanted.
"Please, stop," she begged over and over again.
He carried on touching her. He took his hands off her for a second while he took his trousers off. She missed her chance as he pressed on her.
"Please… Sean…" she tried to appeal to him, but he clamped his hand over her mouth once more.
She felt him invade her body. He hurt her more than she could ever imagine possible. He inflicted pain as he rubbed against her. She tried not to look at him, but he was grinning. He was enjoying it.
He had stripped her naked on the bed. She felt helpless. She could not push him off, he was too strong. The more she tried, the more he pressed down. The more she tried to move away, the harder he pushed inside her.
His hands groped her body, specialising on her breasts.
"You are a beautiful woman, Sally," he kept whispering to her. "This is what you want, admit it."
She responded by shoving his body away from hers. He moved up a couple of inches then plunged back down.
"You should just play nicely and you won't get hurt. I don't want to hurt you, Sally."
He continued to rule her body, whispering how much he loved her. Or how much he thought he did. And how much she loved him. Or how much he thought she loved him.
Suddenly, he came inside her, banging for all he was worth.
"Oh Sally…"
The meeting of bodily fluids felt horrible inside her. This was not sex. Sex made her happy, this did not. The monster gasped above her, having enjoyed his reign.
He finished and got ready to leave.
"You know I love you Sal,"
With that he was gone.
London's Burning - The Sean Bateman Trials © Karen Moody 21/10/2001