In Scotland they can say Not Proven

So, after nine years, one trial, two appeals, two retrials and five million pounds for our learned friends, Sion Jenkins has been acquitted of murdering his foster daughter Billie-Jo by beating her to death with an iron tent spike. There are some who still believe him to be guilty, but these are simple-minded people who cannot put out of their minds the facts that he is has been shown to be a violent and abusive liar and that there is no other suspect: shame on them.

We live less than a mile from where the murder took place, and in 2003 a TV company hired our house for a week to shoot some of the scenes for a play about the case. I was warned that this can be an unpleasant experience, but we did not find it so: the cast and crew were agreeable people (the actor who played Jenkins was a well-known heart-throb) and it was fun to watch it all happening; the money wasn’t bad, either.

Sadly, the play hasn’t been shown and now it probably won’t be. This means that, like my operatic career, my life in television is over before it could begin. During the shooting of a scene in the road outside the house I inadvertently wandered into shot when returning home, and was shouted at by the director. Now I shall never get the plaudits I would have earned for my subtly underplayed performance in the role of Man With Sainsbury’s Bag Crouching Behind Pillar.