Extradited by Andrew Symeou Read Free Book Online

wear his glasses, which he never does.
    In the hallway of the Magistrates’ Court, we were left in enormous suspense. I think my body language said it all, which was noticed by my lawyer John Jones. ‘Andrew, try not to worry, I’m sure it will be adjourned today,’ he said.
    We were called into court three – the same courtroom that I’d seen eleven days previously. I walked past the public gallery on my right, where my family – Lef, Teresa, my gran, Auntie Mary, Uncle Theo – Riya and some friends were sitting down behind a sheet of glass. I was then escorted to the same defendants’ dock that I’d been in the morning after I was arrested, also behind a sheet of glass, like a criminal. I felt like I had to go through it on my own and wished that I could be sitting with my family.
    I could see Mr Hiles on the other side of the court; his bodylanguage was calm, he made no eye contact. I looked down in front of me where John Jones and my solicitor John Tipple were sitting confidently. We all stood as the judge walked in. It was the same old judge from before who had insinuated that I had fled Greece before my scheduled flight in July 2007.
    After confirming my name, John Jones proceeded to explain our concerns. He informed the judge that we would be gaining access to the South Wales Police statements in the very near future, and believed that an adjournment would be in the interest of justice. John briefly raised the points of law of our argument and stated that there was a huge chance the South Wales Police statements would greatly strengthen our defence. The hearing was adjourned until 12 August. I was asked to stand and confirm that I understood the bail conditions the judge read to me.
    I was escorted out of the defendants’ dock and into the hallway of the courts where I was reunited with my friends and family. I sat down on one of the benches, not saying a word. Even though I knew that there were around 150 people outside supporting me, I was dreading walking out. I didn’t want to face the BBC News cameras. The protest gave us a great amount of publicity to help the campaign, but I started to feel like I was forced into it. Everything seemed to happen suddenly – decisions made, legal strategy determined, all while I was sat at the back of my garden smoking every day, cocooned in my own little world.
    My friend Kyri handed me a cup of tea that he’d bought. ‘Nice and milky,’ I remember him saying.
    Riya sat beside me, and I was comforted as her hand met mine.
    ‘When will this nightmare end?’ I asked her, as though she could possibly answer the question.
    My mum and Mr Hiles approached each other on the stairwell of the court. In an emotional embrace, she gave him our family’s deepest sympathies and attempted to explain to himour situation. My dad walked towards them and pressed Mr Hiles to look at the Greek investigation. Mr Hiles needed to see how deeply flawed it was! But he refused to look at it. All he wanted was for me to be extradited to Greece.
    After a few minutes, I saw Mr Hiles through a glass vision panel in the door of the meeting room. He was screaming, shouting and pointing his finger at someone in a burst of anger. Seeing over 100 people with placards outside the court protesting, as well as an adjournment in our favour, probably wasn’t what he was expecting. Reading his son’s name on one of the placards must have been terribly difficult, but a real investigation was needed if they wanted the chance for justice.
    I put off walking outside for a few more minutes. ‘Come on, Andrew, it’s time to leave,’ someone said to me. I stood up and my legs trembled like they weren’t even my own. Approaching the exit of the courts I took a deep breath. Lef grabbed my arm as we all walked outside; he’s a big guy and was like my bodyguard that day. The cold, fresh air hit my face and I heard someone say, ‘Here he is!’ I could see a camera pointing at me to my left and press