'It's the truth', she said.
'I just want to remind you that within these walls you
can speak the truth and nothing but the truth. Look around, think it over, and
say it again'.
'It's the truth', she repeated.
'Okay, then, we've listened to both sides now, and
what I feel is that your husband never tried to rape you'.
She felt the blood in her body turn white in an
instant.
'But what about Mary, the girl from the house across
the street?'
'What about her?'
'She heard my screams'.
'Mary is your friend and therefore cannot be
considered a credible source'.
'But what more can I do?'
'Besides, medical examination…’.
‘The doctor did not care!’ she protested. ‘The doctor
did not care because I’m a woman!’
‘Please, don’t interrupt me’.
‘I’m sorry’.
‘Medical examination showed no signs of rape'.
'But there was
no rape! I did not let him rape me. He was coming towards me, and that’s where
I stopped him'.
‘You mean you killed him?’
‘I didn’t. I just threw a vase at the bastard’.
'That kind of language is not permitted here'.
'I'm sorry'.
'That's an aggravating factor'.
'I'm truly sorry. But who knew his head was made of
glass? And what were my options anyway? Was I supposed to let him rape me?'
'The evidence is devastating. We've seen the vase with
your DNA and we haven't seen any signs of rape'.
'But that's because...'.
'Ah. That's enough. We've been going over this again
and again. Enough! You're acquitted. Forgiven, that is'.
'Thank you, father'.
'Be gone, my child'.
At which point she walked out of the confession box
and out into the busy pavement of Dublin. With a restless feeling that every
man in O’Connell street had the face of her dead husband.
