Yes, that's where I've been (not that one, though - a different one, although still with the missing apostrophe). And I'm not supposed to talk about it. Though it's difficult to know what I can't talk about, when the proceedings are held in public (that is the public can attend, although they don't). But the press sometimes attends, I've discovered. But they have to have a reason. Like being able to file a report containing the words 'home to the families of the Duchess of York, Sarah Ferguson and socialite Tara Palmer-Tomkinson' no matter how tenuous the link to the actual case. Nothing sells newspapers quite like upper-class crumpet, obviously.
Actually, I do know what I can't talk about; and that's the process by which we (as in we the jury) reached our decisions. And there were four decisions: four deaths over two days. Three hangings in prison and one man struck by a train. And, yes, it's grim. And thought-provoking. And profoundly sad. And 'there but for the grace of God go I'. But if you ever get asked to sit on a jury (actually you'll be issued with a 'summons') do go and do it. Even if it's only out of public duty.
Meanwhile I have to get my brain back into the land of the living.
