A tough story

Being a journalist is quite exciting sometimes. I have done some brilliant things in the past 3 1/2 years. parachuting, food tasting, car simulator racing, golf, giving blood, raising money for charity in numerous ways, etc etc are some of the interesting things I've enjoyed or hated since my stint at the paper.

Sometimes it's absolutely horrendous. On Tuesday I was faced with the most distressing court story I have ever had. I won't name the woman involved in the case, but she was facing a charge of concealing a child. Wondering what that means? It means she had a baby (without knowing she was pregnant) which was stillborn, and in a panic the traumatised woman put the body in a loft for a year, before telling her partner. It was the most desperate story I would ever write.

Behind the story was a sub-plot, not mentioned. The woman and her partner applied to the high court in London for an injunction to stop our paper writing about the story. It failed, but there was still the potential for the family to apply for a "section 39" order when it arrived in Spalding magistrates court.

Under section 39 of the child and young persons act 1933 magistrates have the power to impose anonymity on witnesses, defendents or complainants involved in a court case in adult court. In other words, had this been imposed on the woman's other children (who were mentioned in the case) we would not have been able to name them, or reference them in any way. The defence lawyers apply for it, the magistrates consider it, and then say yes or no.

I knew I was covering the story so spent an evening researching what I would do if the defence tried to convince the magistrates to apply this.

It's nerve-wracking. You have to stand up and address the court and everyone in it, clearly arguing your case. The opportunity for humiliation is massive, and I didn't sleep well, even though there were several arguments against the Section 39.

These included the facts that the children were not witnesses, defendants or complainants, the fact that the injunction had been thrown out, the fact that it would severely comprimise other aspects of the story, and the main point - that in the original injunction the woman's lawyers had admitted that if the injunction failed they could not apply for a section 39 because it was invalid.

They didn't even try and apply for it. I breathed a sigh of relief, but was also a little crestfallen - I have a 100 per cent record in overturning section 39 attempts, and was confident I would have done it again.

So I took the notes and we got the story. The woman was inconsolable as the grim particulars were read out. I felt terrible. The woman pleaded guilty and will be sentenced later in the month, but we now had the facts.

And then what? Where do we put it? Our photographer snapped her on the way in - do we use the photo? Do we name her? Do we comment on whether a case where there was no victim should ever have gone to court? Can we morally justify putting such an upsetting story on the front to sell papers? Do we even use it at all...

Asking around the office produced no concensus. Some wanted it front page with pic. Some wanted it page 3, no pic. Some wanted it front page, at the bottom, no pic. My opinion was that the front page was justified but the picture was harsh. People would recognise her at work, when she was picking her kids up from school, in the street - is there really any need to punish her further.

It ended up on page 2, no pic. I think we were all satisfied. Also ended up, disgracefully, in the Peterborough Evening Telegraph with another reporter's name on it.

Next time you read the paper you might want to think what goes on behind the scenes. It was certainly a story and process none of us will forget in a hurry.