DAY -1 Waiting

And it really is about waiting. All the good things and the bad things. Having the time to make sure you’re ready - and time for confusion. Knowing what time we will leave in the morning, ironing shirts, checking where the court is and what time we’re expected. That’s where the problems start. Some think it’s the Magistrates’ Court, others think it’s the High Court - two distinct locations. A call to Captain Bartman, the investigating officer in charge of the case from the start, clarifies that we should be at the Magistrate’s Court for 9 am - where, rather confusingly, there is a single High Court which is where the case will be heard.

So now we’re sure where we need to be and for when. Not much, but it’s a start.

My father has been re-reading the statement he gave to the police when it all happened. It seems so scant, a reflection of how little he knows of what happened. Likewise Andy next door has a slim account of what he remembers - I saw it on his counter this morning, rather black and white amongst the everyday confusion of a lived-in kitchen.

So now we face tomorrow - not unlike any tomorrow in that we don’t know what will happen, but more so because we have really thought about it - and still don’t know.

The picture shows a Microlite over the sea mist on the beach at about 7am today.

DAY -2 Arrival

Well, here I am without any mishaps or problems and it’s been nice to see the few people I’ve managed to see so far. Tomorrow everyone will gather for lunch at my aunt and uncle’s house up the road, so I should have caught up with everyone by the end of that.

It does feel strange to be here again – almost as if I’m picking up from exactly where I left off at the end of October last year. It is almost hyper-real, perhaps because I’m a bit tired, perhaps because there are reminders that stare out so much because I’m not acclimatised to them yet. But overall it is a good feeling to be here and it is the right thing to have done.

A real bonus is the weather – the never-ending English winter which I left behind has been replaced by balmy warm sunshine, blue skies and even bluer sea. It is the start of autumn here and I have seen a fair few swallows still around, suggesting they’ve had it on good authority from somewhere to not start the journey northwards just yet. Perhaps they’ll join me in a week’s time, all being well.

The picture shows a sunset from the balcony of my father’s house, with reflections off the Chintsa River

DAY -3 Departure

I am flying out to East London via Johannesburg this afternoon, arriving about midday tomorrow, so now there is no stopping me being there next week.

I just hope it does go ahead as planned. You never know with this sort of thing - there are quite a few scenarios that I can think of that could slow things down or even prevent anything happening at all. Anything from bureaucratic bungles (wrong defendant, right day or vice versa and so on) to illness of any one of the many people who have to participate in the trial.

It really is one of those occasions where you have no control over events at all - swept along in a way that only State machinery can achieve.

Besides all that, the fact that the State prosecutes the defendant additionally forces you into the role of a helpless onlooker in many ways. You have no say in the selection of who will prosecute the case (that is, act in the interests of my mother and us as a family). You have very little influence over who should be called as witnesses or many of the other things that would come naturally with a civil case where you hired lawyers. Of course this has been standard practice for a long time, but it doesn't make it any less difficult to come to terms with.

I suppose I should look on the bright side and accept that whatever does or doesn't happen next week, it will still be an opportunity to spend time with my father, sister and other family members and friends. I am looking forward to that.