PROLOGUE

 

It was the outrage over asylum seekers milking the legal aid system that finally did it.

It was one of many political situations for which every man on the street had a simple solution and yet no government seemed able to carry that solution out. Normally, everybody moans and says what should be done but then tolerates it when nothing is done: all very British, but change only needs a catalyst. The catalyst was a fresh new opposition MP, Simon Neill. A superb orator with enormous personal magnitude and iron determination, he became the fourth leader of the opposition party in as many years. Political opponents likened him to Hitler, but that was quite unfair: there were similarities, in that his proposals were radical and populist and his speeches were so powerful that each meeting he spoke at ended up something akin to a Nuremberg rally, but there was no dark side to Simon Neill. He was a democrat, a man of the people and if his manifesto was severe, it was nevertheless for the ultimate good of the people - all the people. In later years, the comparisons became more with Churchill, although Franklin Roosevelt was a better parallel.

He won a marginal general election and, despite a small majority, somehow managed to carry out much of his manifesto, sufficient that two years later he was re-elected by a massive landslide. Now he was really able to change things. Those preaching racial hatred were deported, but at the same time a massive effort was put into making everybody feel British; the death penalty returned for the most heinous of crimes and prison became a much less pleasant place. The root causes of much crime, such as poverty and disaffection, were also tackled. A strong drive towards establishing in everybody a real feeling of civic responsibility was also a key factor. The legal system was cleaned up; a massive job creation scheme found everybody work, with those with nothing else to do being put to work for the community in all sorts of innovative and rewarding ways. The savings in government spending on these two items alone helped to fuel a sustainable economic upturn which enormously benefited the less well off without taking anything away from the middle and upper classes.

The overall result was a much happier and more prosperous country. Bodies such as the European Union and the Court of Human Rights, both of which had stood in the way of much of Neill's program and had been faced down, won over or simply ignored, were grudgingly starting to look at the new British model. In this country, Simon Neill was regarded almost as a saint. He had won two more landslide victories and had now been in power for fourteen years. Opposition parties crumbled hopelessly to dust, but he was not a man who wished to become a dictator: as the party system fell apart, independent MPs became the norm, fewer career politicians and more servants of the people. Neill not only tolerated but actively encouraged debate of his policies and sometimes he lost the argument, always with good grace. Parliament became a body of wise and respected men and women and it became fashionable to be a law-abiding, conscientious citizen.

 

CHAPTER ONE

 

"How could you let this happen?" There was anger in Kim's mother's voice, but also much concern.

Kim wiped away tears, but they were pouring out faster than she could remove them. "I just didn't think," she sobbed. "Everything just got so out of control. It was an accident."

"You're in big trouble," her father said.

"I know," she replied, before bursting into tears once more.

Patrick Goddard opened his mouth to say something more, but the sight of his seventeen year-old daughter convulsed in crying shut him up. She was a good girl, a really good girl, and he loved her dearly. She had been brought up properly and her behaviour had always been impeccable. She was a true child of the Simon Neill era and the strict structures his administration had put in place, together with her parents' firm guidelines, had produced a wonderful, admirable girl. That was what had made last night all the more of a shock. She and some friends had gone to a birthday party, from which they had planned to walk home. In this day and age, law and order being what it was, that was quite safe. The party - an innocent one, as more were these days - finished at around ten, the walk home would take no more than half an hour. The curfew for teenagers was eleven, so they had plenty of time; but they had gone for a walk, admiring the stars and enjoying the beautiful summer night and simply hadn't realised the time. One of them had a tennis ball and they had been throwing it to each other as they walked. Unfortunately, Kim had misjudged her throw and the ball went through a shop window. Chaos and confusion! A police patrolman had appeared and caught Kim; the other girls had run off. She had been brought home, white faced, in a police car, to her shocked parents.

With so little crime and a streamlined legal system, the wheels of justice moved very fast these days. First thing in the morning (Saturday), an email arrived, requiring Kim to attend Juvenile Court on Monday at ten.

"I'll have to telephone the school on Monday to let them know you won't be there," her mother said in an empty voice.

More tears flowed from Kim. The school would have to know the reason. And if ... Kim didn't want to think what would happen after Monday.

"Now, what about the other girls who were with you?" her father pressed.

For a moment, Kim's pretty face firmed up. "Don't ask," she said simply.

Her father knew she had been on her mobile phone to her friends after she had been brought home, but she had put the shutters firmly up on anything about them. When Kim clammed up about something, he knew there was nothing he could do about it. Indeed, there was nothing he could do about any of this: for all that he wanted to protect his lovely little girl, he was helpless.

 

Kim lived in a semi-rural area in Shropshire. The court was in the big town of Shrewsbury some twelve miles away. Kim had been there once before on a school trip as part of a civic responsibilities course. She had never expected in her darkest nightmares that she might have to be there as an offender.

The court only needed to meet twice a month, even though it covered the whole county, such was the low level of juvenile crime. It was perhaps fortunate that the next session was so soon after Kim's arrest, in that it wouldn't be hanging over her for ages, but right now she couldn't think straight enough to work that out. Her father parked their car and walked with her to the court. It had not been an easy weekend: shock had been followed by recriminations and then embarrassing gushings of love. Kim had also spent much time alone, unable to bear the outpourings of intense emotion. She was very frightened. Her family, herself very much included, believed fully in the system; and Kim knew she was guilty. But juvenile punishments were harsh and she was very afraid.

Kim and her father walked into the court reception area. Remembering the layout from her civic responsibilities tour, Kim went over to a desk. The woman behind the desk looked at her. "Name?" the woman asked flatly.

"Kim Goddard," she replied in a small voice.

"Identity documents?"

Kim handed over the standard wallet that everybody was required to carry. The debate on identity cards had been won by Simon Neill and they were a part of everyday life. "Civil liberties" was a phrase less often invoked than in the past, but Neill himself argued that they were important and stringent checks ensured that they were not infringed. In fact, the electronic card had many convenience uses.

The woman fed Kim's identity card into a reader. "The first case starts at nine, you are third on, should be at eleven," she informed Kim, noting the embarrassed hang of the girl's head at the mention that she was here to be tried.

"Thank you," managed Kim politely.

"Do you have your virginity certificate with you?"

"Yes ... of course. It's in the wallet."

One of the most controversial of Simon Neill's programs, which he could only tackle after his second landslide win, was the one dealing with teenage pregnancy. The law on sex under sixteen years was rigidly enforced. All girls below that age were medically checked regularly and would find themselves in this court if the hymen was found to be broken; and DNA testing was now sufficiently advanced that, with the aid of the national database, the male participant would also quickly be identified and dealt with. Between the ages of sixteen and nineteen inclusive, parental consent had to be given. This sounds draconian, but a national campaign led by Neill himself argued that parents should not usually withhold that consent and there was even an avenue of appeal to the court for the teenager if they did. The aim was to ensure that proper precautions were taken as well as allowing some motherly advice which, it was argued, should not always be for abstention. It had been awkward at first but now worked well. Pregnancies and also sexually transmitted diseases were very much under control. Attitudes had also changed: not be a virgin was not looked down on, but some girls made a point of flashing their certificates, with the space for parental signature of consent still blank. Kim's card was blank, save for the three-monthly confirmation signatures of her doctor, but she didn't make an issue of it.