Rule number two on these occasions is not to trust the look in their eyes. Judges are masters of disguise. Baleful can be applause. Smiles can be the kiss of death.

But the verdict at the end of the first day of George Pell’s appeal has to be that the bench is listening to the case being argued on his behalf by Bret Walker SC with a little more than respect.

Unusual features of the day’s proceedings include the chief justice Anne Ferguson giving trigger warnings to the crowd before argument got under way, plus the phone numbers of Lifeline and Beyond Blue.

Pell was in the box by this time. Life in prison suits no one, but the cardinal is looking fine. He was in clericals, not using his stick. He took notes. At a mention of him sitting on his throne in St Patrick’s Cathedral, he closed his eyes in a little gesture of self-deprecation.

George Pell's lawyer says timing of offence is 'critical matter' in appeal Read more

Security had been tight for the crowd entering the court. We spread our arms and turned over our belt buckles. But did Pell really need the four prison guards in armoured vests sitting behind him all day? Were they there to protect him from his detractors or prevent him making a dash for the door?

We learned a lot. Pell’s accuser gave his evidence in private. The transcript will never be released. But after today we have more detailed accounts of the two incidents at St Patrick’s Cathedral that sent Pell to prison.

And we learned for the first time that at his trial Pell’s counsel, Robert Richter QC, took the tack of accusing the man directly of being a purposeful liar.

“I counted four or five occasions on which that line of attack was taken,” said Justice Chris Maxwell who read the transcript of Richter’s line of attack. “You went back and read the transcript of the committal, didn’t you, and you realised there were gaps in your story, didn’t you, and you invented new bits of the story to fill the gaps … ”

Walker spoke quietly. Calm equals confidence. His task was not to sweep the judges away with a stirring narrative of innocence. That’s for television. In real life – if that’s what the proceedings of a court of appeal can be called – the job of great advocates is to pick apart the prosecution’s case, to unravel their knitting.

Which brings us to rule number one: appeals are essentially impossible to follow in all their detail. The crowd doesn’t have the cartloads of documents parked around the court and lined up like mobile libraries behind the judges.

“Can I draw your attention to an incident in table L which I can amalgamate with table M,” Walker asked the judges. They grabbed folders, found tabs and opened wide. We saw not a page of those documents. We’re left to follow as best we can.

What’s clear is that Pell’s fate rests on Walker convincing the judges that the jury last year was wrong to dismiss doubts they must have had about the case against him.

Unlike many of his defenders in the church who rushed to publication the moment his fate became public, Pell’s barrister is not arguing the jury’s verdict was impossible. Nearly but not quite.

The English language was ransacked by Walker to try to capture the difference: barely possible, extremely improbable, inherently improbable, so unlikely as to make it barely possible, not realistically possible etc.

The theologian in Pell may have enjoyed all this and the argument that took up a good part of the morning about the difference between “true” and “correct” and “credibility” and “reliability” and the due weight to be given to the word “must” in analysing the duties of the jury to entertain doubts about the prosecution’s case.

This might suggest the nitty gritty of Pell’s case was neglected. Not so. Walker discussed the West Door Alibi; the difference between robes worn by an archbishop when “presiding” rather than “officiating” at mass; the polishing of the doors to the archbishop’s sacristy; and the failure of Pell’s accuser to mention, 22 years down the track, the school holidays that fell between having a penis forced into his mouth in December and his genitals being grabbed as he processed down a corridor in February.

“May it please the court,” said Walker as he sat down after a hard day’s talking.

All over the legal district of Melbourne, barristers were neglecting their work to keep an eye on the proceedings being livestreamed on the supreme court’s website. The verdict of one or two of them: Pell’s case has legs.

But now the crown replies.



