‘All rise.’

There was the noise of lawyers’ chairs scratching on wooden floors. Everyone else stood too. The heavy door opened and the judge strode into the courtroom.

‘Be seated.’

The judge waited for the noise to settle down before turning to the ladies and gentlemen of the jury. ‘Have you reached a verdict?’

The foreperson was a grey-haired man, who looked to be about fifty. ‘We have, your Honour.’ He held out the verdict to the bailiff, who handed it across to the judge.

Reading it, the judge nodded and handed it back.

‘We the jury find the defendant, Gerard Hooper, guilty of manslaughter.’

There was a cry from the public gallery and Lily, Gerard’s wife, burst into noisy sobs.

‘How could you do this?’ she yelled at the jury. Her friend tried to calm her, but Lily shook her off. ‘He’s a good man!’

Zara swung her gaze to Colin’s wife, Christy, and teenage daughter, Sophie. Christy was crying with what Zara assumed was relief; Sophie had her arm around her and stared at Gerard, hate etched on her face.

Ignoring the outburst, the foreperson read on. ‘We the jury also find Gerard Hooper guilty of trespass with the intent of causing harm.’

Guilty on both charges. This was a fantastic result for farmers!

Zara could imagine the headline. It would be on the front page of the Farming Telegraph. ACTIVISTS WARNED: STAY OFF OUR FARMS. Zara knew the paper’s deadline for printing was very close, but she needed to wait to see what the judge had to say before she texted Lachy. Then she’d try to get a comment from both wives, the lawyers and even some of the protesters.

While she was on the ground doing that, Lachy would ring some of the peak farming bodies and get a statement from them, but it would be too late to get the whole article in this week’s paper. Just the bare facts. They’d have to run a big feature on the story next week. But she also knew Lachy would be angling to be the first paper to get the story up on social media, so it was still urgent.

She’d have to get her skates on.

‘Thank you to the jury. You are now dismissed,’ the judge said in his deep voice. ‘Sentencing will be next week.’

‘Your Honour, we’d like to appeal—’

‘Do it through the proper channels, Mr Hudson.’ The firm tone broke into the lawyer’s address. ‘Court dismissed.’

The gavel fell and among the bustle and noise Zara heard the bailiff say, ‘All rise,’ and, with a flurry from his gown, the judge was gone.

Zara gathered her bag and jostled against the others trying to exit the courtroom. She pulled out her phone as she went. Other reporters were doing the same. It was a race as to who could break the news first.

Guilty on both counts. Sentencing in a week. Remanded in custody until sentencing. Lachy would be able to fill in the blanks and at least get the news on the front page of the paper. She knew he’d had the artwork ready for either outcome.