As the Saudi nurses prepare to head home from the Middle East with an unexpected

pardon from King Fahd, Herald writers examine the case and reaction to the news

THE unexpected pardons for Saudi nurses Lucille McLauchlan and Deborah Parry come after growing speculation their release was being considered, despite recent denials by the Saudi ambassador to London.

Yet the suddenness of the announcement was symptomatic of the confusion throughout the women's ordeal, which began in December 1996, when they were accused of murdering fellow nurse, Australian Yvonne Gilford.

Her body was found in her room at the hospital centre on December 12, 1996, a few days before her 56th birthday. She had been stabbed 13 times, bludgeoned, and suffocated.

Her colleagues were arrested several days later.

A trial for the two women began in May. The pair initially admitted the charges, saying they had been involved in a lesbian relationship with Miss Gilford. They later withdrew their confessions and, as media interest increased, Saudi Arabia's minister of the interior, Prince Naif bin Abulaziz, promised they would get a fair trial.

However, the Gilford family lawyers asked the three judges to impose the death penalty before any evidence was even considered, raising serious concerns for the women back in Britain.

What followed put the Saudi judicial system in the spotlight and history was made when defence lawyers were allowed into a court for the first time during the trial.

After months of adjournments, Associated Press reported last July that Miss Parry had been found guilty and sentenced to death. The agency said Miss McLauchlan had been sentenced to an unspecified prison sentence.

However, the Foreign Office and the nurses' families were unable to verify the reports. A month later, the Foreign Office confirmed Miss McLauchlan had been found guilty of playing a part in Miss Gilford's murder and had been sentenced to eight years in jail and 500 lashes.

Miss Parry's sentence had not been pronounced.

The Gilford family accepted a ''blood money'' deal of #750,000 made under Islamic law to save Miss Parry from beheading. It was rumoured British firms with commercial interests in Saudi Arabia had contributed some of the cash.

But lawyers for the nurses had refused to release the money until Parry's fate was known.

Salah al-Hejailan said: ''The king's decision was expected upon the waiver of the death penalty by the Australian family and their acceptance of the principle of blood money.''

Hejailan said he would not authorise the release of the money until the victim's family said publicly that it was ''blood money'', rather than ''financial compensation''.

It is understood the money is being held by an Adelaide legal firm while court proceedings continued.

The US-educated lawyer said: ''The money has not been paid to them (the Australian family) yet. I have no intention to release the money until they accept that it was blood money, until they come in public and say it was blood money.''

Miss Gilford's brother Frank, who lives in Australia, and has been speaking on behalf of the victim's family, said in October he had decided to accept what he termed ''compensation'' for the killing, underlining that it was not ''blood money''.

News of the nurses' release comes just one month after Prime Minister Tony Blair raised their case with the Saudi authorities during an official visit to the oil-rich state.

The two nurses were in many ways the most unlikely of murder suspects, thrown together by a mixture of fate and circumstances.

Miss McLauchlan, 32, from Dundee, left school at 17 to pursue a career in nursing. Her parents, Stan and Ann, spoke with pride of their ''lovely daughter'' and how she came top in her year at nursing college.

She faced an extra heartache - having planned to marry her fiance, Mr Grant Ferrie, in February last year. The couple finally married in a Saudi courtroom complex.

During her time in prison, Miss McLauchlan displayed more resilience than Miss Parry, an attribute perhaps learned as she cared for the dying on the HIV ward at Dundee's Ninewells Hospital.

Her distraught mother, Mrs Ann McLauchlan, said her daughter, keen to keep in touch with events around the world, would listen to the BBC World Service from the prison cell.

To relieve the monotony of prison life, she also attempted to learn Arabic from the other women in the cell. In return, she taught them Oasis songs.

Miss Parry, 39, from Alton, Hampshire, was the more fragile of the two women and suffered more from the stress of the situation and the spartan conditions in the cell they shared in Dammam Central Prison. She suffered two serious bouts of dysentery and, on one occasion, had to be moved to a hospital ward and given intravenous fluids. She also suffered panic attacks, her family said.

During the dark and uncertain days before and during the trial, she tried to take her mind off the situation by reading or doing puzzle books and thinking of her young nephews and nieces, to whom she was very close.

Although very different personalities, from very different backgrounds, the two nurses have had to live together in a prison cell thousands of miles from home.

They would comfort each other throughout the dark days of uncertainty in the prison, each trying to lift the other's spirits.