Madeleine kissed Clara’s head and whispered, “Time for bed, sweetheart.”
Then she rose, holding her daughter’s hand. “So that’s the way I feel, and that’s what we are going to do. I’ve stood by long enough being told by you two that we need to do things this way and that such and such is the best way forward. For me, it’s time to face the music. And I won’t take no for an answer.”
With that, Madeleine exited the room with Clara in tow.
As far as she was concerned, her long-ago imposed vow of silence was officially over.
45
The following morning, Fiona Marsh felt her hands shake as she was called to the stand.
Not normally a nervous or anxious person, she supposed she was just taken aback by the enormity of what was going on. She was well aware that all this was not going well for her brother and sister-in-law—and she was truly worried about them, their welfare, as well as the futures of her niece and nephew. Therefore, when last year they had asked her to appear as a witness at this trial, there was no way she could say no.
Yet, she still felt her stomach churn when she realized some of the questions she would be asked. Fiona cringed at the lens of scrutiny that her brother’s family had already been under, not to mention the criticism they had received from the media and the general public.
She worried about opening herself and her own family up to the same type of hateful vitriol.
“Thank you for taking the time to attend court today, Mrs. Marsh,” greeted Michael McGuinness, a pleasant smile on his face. Fiona still couldn’t get over the fact that they really did wear those gowns and funny wigs in the courtroom. It was like something out of an episode ofDownton Abbey.
“Thanks, and no problem.”
“I also know your own family members greatly appreciate you sharing your personal story with the court.”
Fiona nodded and glanced over to the defendants’ table, where Madeleine and Tom sat. They both offered her small, encouraging smiles.
“So, Mrs. Marsh, you have two sons, I believe?”
Trying to quell her nervousness, Fiona sat on her hands and said, “Yes, Cameron is nine and Brian, my youngest, is seven.”
“Tricky ages for boys, I believe,” commented McGuinness smiling.
Fiona shrugged and offered a genuine grin. “They have their days but are good boys. I’m very lucky.”
“That’s wonderful,” said the barrister. “So, on to more...sensitive topics. It’s my understanding that your eldest, Cameron—”
“Cam—he goes by Cam.”
“Sure. It’s my understanding that Cam is vaccinated but Brian is not?”
Fiona nodded. “That’s correct. When Cam was a baby, we followed HSE recommendations and had him vaccinated according to the usual childhood immunization program. MMR, meningitis...all of that. For Bian, though, we decided to take a different route with the MMR.”
Michael McGuinness placed his hands on the waist-high wooden barrier that surrounded the witness stand. “And can you explain why you and your husband decided upon such different courses of action?”
“Of course,” answered Fiona, some of her nervousness leaving her body. She felt herself regaining her confidence. She had no problem at all explaining her position with this. “When Cam was a baby, he was just the...loveliest...little boy. So affectionate, so caring, so—” she seemed to search for the word “—engaged. He was handsy.” She smiled. “That’s what we nicknamed him, Handsy. He was always touching you, asking for hugs, wanting to be held. We felt so incredibly lucky. I know I’m his mother, and all mothers think their kids are the best in the world, but he was so wonderful. He had these lovely little chubby cheeks, and just...” She gave a small laugh and blushed. “I’m sorry, that’s probably irrelevant. Anyway, he was just a joy. Such a lovely, pleasant baby—everyone said the same. Madeleine’s Jake is the same age, just a couple of months younger, but more of a handful at the time, and I remember her saying ‘Why can’t he be like Cam?’”
She looked over at Madeleine, tears forming in her eyes at the memory.
Then she cleared her throat. “Now, I should reiterate that my son isstillwonderful and I love him just as much and just the same. It’s just that...he changed. When he was thirteen months old, we took him for the MMR vaccination as scheduled. And within a day or so—my husband, John, and I saw this happening with our very own eyes—this...almost...transformation of sorts occurred. That’s the best way to describe it. He became withdrawn...aloof, even. He stopped talking. Up until then, he was jabbering and chattering all the time, learning how to talk and communicate. And then he just...wasn’t. What’s more it was like a light went out behind his eyes, almost like someone had pulled a plug somewhere. He wasn’t expressive. Suddenly, in no time at all, he was a different child.”
“And how did you and your husband react to this?”
Fiona shook her head at the memory. “Well, to put it bluntly, we freaked out. This obvious and sudden change in his demeanor terrified us. At first we thought maybe he bumped his head or perhaps swallowed something poisonous, got into something he shouldn’t have. We took him to the GP and they ran all kinds of tests. And, eventually, we found out what was wrong.”
McGuinness waited expectantly. “What did the doctors say?”
“That my son was on the spectrum, the autism spectrum.” Fiona’s eyes welled with tears then, and she hastily wiped away one that had escaped her left eye. “It completely threw us for a loop. But you know, it’s not like we loved him any less after. Never anything like that. It just...caught us unprepared. You never expect to wake up one day and realize your entire life has changed. No parent wants to face that. Ever.”
Fiona looked at Kate with sad eyes then and the exchange did not go unnoticed by the judge.
