Saturday 10 November 2007

Judge Jefferies is alive and well.

Those who read my notes will know that I am a big fan of Horace Rumpole who in turn would write
about the old hanging judges who would cheerfully order muffins in their club having just sentenced a man to hang.

Now, Rumpole is some character but at the end of the day he is just a creation, big Vee of course is not.

Lets give her a better name, lets call her Vic.

Well I met Vic when she was about 12 and she was a right little madam. Life had dealt her cards from the middle and bottom of the pack and really she didn't know what it was all about poor lass.

Frankly, as 12 she was quite a bitch and not an easy person to lice at all.

But years passed and my family stuck with her. Management would give her regular doses of reality therapy her Social Worker was the best and by the time she was about 15 she really was someone to be proud of knowing.

I remember she turned 16 and said that she could not wait to be 21 so she could apply to be a foster carer like er and me, it filled me with pride, as did the thought that should anything happen to me and the boss Vic would be the very person we would want looking out for her "brothers and sisters".

Of course 16 is not a good time for children in the system and she was handed over to the "leaving care " team. Never was a name more apt.

She was at this stage lined up to do a number of GCSE's and there were several people out there cuing up to offer her a job based on the times she had previously worked for them.

Things were looking good.

But of course leaving care changed all that.

I am not going to detail the exact mess, but suffice it to say that by this July the wheels were off her cart big style, she was 19 homeless jobless and literally holding the baby for a boyfriend who regularly used her as a punch bag.

We had been sporadically in touch and then she vanished.

Fast forward a few months and it's leaving care, who have not of course spoken to her for months and they want to know if we have a clue where she is.

She had taken off leaving the baby and they wanted to know who was to look after him.

Now, maybe I was a bit harsh on the boyfriend since he seems to have stepped in and has been delivering parenting for the baby at a level where at least they are not looking to take him away anyway.

But of course let look see, young Vic has been deprived of the one thing she had to keep her stable, the baby and presumably has gone over the edge a bit.

Some weeks ago some of Daycastles finest were about their business early one morning when they happened to notice young Vic a wandering down the street.

Hard to miss really as at the time she was waving a meat clever about in a most alarming manner, threatening to do all sorts to the B/F and leaking blood all over the street from where she had been practising slashing him by cutting herself.

Despite all the agitation she rapidly put the knife down and got in the Police car for a little ride to central.

All things cleared and she was not charged but was bailed to appear at some stage in the future.

She had obviously enjoyed all of this because not that many days later she was at it again. a group of party goers came across her in the middle of town in the early hours waving a carving knife.

They were worried enough to point this out to a couple of old bill who duly went to check and indeed found our Vic slumped in a shop doorway threatening ill harm to all and sundry something the effect of which was diminished by her throwing the knife away as the officers approached and rolling herself into a wailing foetal ball.

Now, one thing lead to another and in due course she was hauled before the magistrates and her social worker summoned too. SW duly tried to raise us and quickly discovered that we were not there, out in France as it happens.

This was important stuff so we phoned leaving care who quite happily let us pay for the international call and asked if we would have her bailed to us. though of course they did not want this to happen enough to put their hands in their pockets.

Not that money would ever be a bar to her since she is one of ours now.

And this is not the first time since she left we have dropped everything and gone and done what any parent would do for their child.

But I digress, not having anywhere to give as an address young Vic was invited by her Maj to stay at her place, one of her prisons in fact.

This week she was shipped back into court and with kids in skool and management off ripping down trees I duly turned up in court to collect the body or so I thought..

Well, wrong is us, I had of course only gone there to collect so I looked like the dog's breakfast and a long way for the smart well presented person I normally am, well OK so I lie.

But anyway I found she had a solicitor and this guy seemed relaxed and pretty confident we would spring her.

The only fly in the ointment being the judge. I am not naming names but he is known as SCUD, he is known for going off in any direction.

Taking my seat in the back of court I settled to watch the great British justice system in action.

I quickly concluded that the judge was really judge Jefferey's re incarnate and was out to dispense justice to an unjust world. I don't know what he gets off on but clearly whoever was supposed to have whipped him the night before had not been trying hard enough or maybe there were no pineapples for sale in Tescos and he had to go to bed without one inserted up his bum.

A series of bizarre statements in other cases later and it was "our" turn.

Vic was brought up from her cell, looking every inch the hard girl.

Well until she saw me sitting at the back of the court and the little glance, the look of relief and dare I say hope, told a different tale.

The vulnerable little girl she always hid so well popped out for a second. The little scared 9 year old replaced the tough looking 19 year old for the briefest of seconds.

Then the act was back on and you know act it was.

Because really young Vic was just doing more of what she does.

She is the toughest kid on the block, you ask her she will tell you. Faced with a fight you had better have a big army to hold her back because if she gets her hands on you there's going to be trouble. Shame she only ever does things like this when there are people there to hold her back.....

So a Vic with a knife is about as frightening and threatening as a kid with an ice cream.

Knives for her are not weapons in a war but props in an act.

Of course I know that because I know my Vic.

But of course, "judge Jefferies" was having none of it, he was concerned about her wandering about with knives. A little tussle over the facts did nothing to change his view;

Yes she might have used the knives on no one bar herself.

Yes, the Police took her in quietly

Yes the members of the public said they were concerned for her not scared of her.

Yes I would take her 100 miles away.

No he did not want to see the psychiatric reports.

No he did not want to talk to me.

This was justice by numbers

She was going down, whats more she was coming back to crown court so they could really give her a proper decent sentence.

He looked longingly round for a birch I reckon and then not seeing one decided he could not make a start right then.

Now I am not a bleeding heart and not going to deny she was tooled up.

And i definitely believe in people carrying the can for what they have done.

But this is an incredibly vulnerable young person whose life was screwed by a system.

And the judge was going to blindly keep it going.

I nearly got to my feet then thought that me being in the cell for contempt of a contemptible court in a contemptible system was going to help not at all.

Instead I clean forgot to bow to the judge on my way out of court, as gestures go not a lot but I saw the judge note the gesture.

I left the court and came home.

Going to have to work out how to spring her.....

R

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