A view of the press box in Cardiff

Any journalist who reports on trials in the Crown courts will tell you to expect the unexpected.

But nothing could have prepared me for the story of Tanya Nasir, the woman who became known to me and my colleagues as the fake nurse.

That was unfair. She was a nurse. She had an adult nursing qualification.

But that was practically the only truth in Tanya Nasir’s life.

The rest was a work of fiction, a series of incredible lies that were slowly and painstakingly dismantled during his trial at Cardiff Crown Court.

And from my spot on the press bench, I had the perfect vantage point.

Press benches are generally small seats, mostly made of wood, and cause pain if journalists sit on them for any length of time.

But what they lack in comfort, they more than make up for with an insider’s view of the trials.

We can see everything and everyone that happens in the court and everyone can see us.

And in the Tanya Nasir trial, that was a problem, a very serious problem that could have landed me in the cells.

But before I get to that, I’ll explain why I was sitting in the press box.

Tanya Nasir was tried and convicted of nine counts of fraud and fraud by false representation, and she has now gone imprisoned for five years.

She claimed to be a highly qualified nurse with extensive experience in areas including adult and pediatric intensive care.

She said she had qualifications in dentistry and the operating room, as well as a background in physics, astrophysics and a master’s degree in leadership.

She also claimed to be a reservist in what she said was the “British Royal Army”.

Nasir said he served in a field hospital “500 meters from the front line in Afghanistan”, as well as in Iraq and Kosovo.

She told a panel interview that she would need time off to train with her regiment on the Indian Ocean island of Diego Garcia, home to British and American military bases.

Then there was his work with charities including the Red Cross and Oxfam, bringing aid to people in conflict zones around the world.

It was all absolute rubbish.

By falsifying references and lying about her qualifications and her Army career, she secured nursing roles in London and Bedfordshire.

Then in 2019 she was appointed to a senior role at the Princess of Wales Hospital in Bridgend.

She became manager of the neonatal ward. It was an extremely responsible and important position, leading a department of nurses and doctors who cared for the smallest and sickest babies.

Five months after she started working there, she was discovered by a sharp-eyed matron who noticed something wasn’t right with her Nursing and Midwifery Council registration code.

It said 13 – to indicate that she qualified as a nurse in the 2013/14 financial year. But during her job interview and on her application form, she said she qualified in 2010.

It was then that the lies were uncovered and, in July of this year, she went on trial.

But back to my problem in the press box. When Nasir entered the witness box, his lies were so big, so ridiculous and at times infuriating, that it was very difficult not to look shocked.

I was shocked. I couldn’t believe what she was saying – and with such confidence.

I reported from Afghanistan and knew that what she said about her deployments there was simply not true. It was fantasy.

I thought about the people I knew who worked in real field hospitals, treating wounded personnel and local Afghans injured by IEUs, including children. It was difficult, dangerous and painful work.

They were people of real quality, clinical professionals with the calm confidence of someone who has seen so much.

She wasn’t one of them. Nowhere near.

She spoke about humanitarian work in Kenya, Kosovo and Syria and her experience in neonatal intensive care techniques.

I could hear nurses from her old hospitals in the public gallery, sighing as she tied herself in medical knots.

And there was her military service number. This was the big problem.

At one point, attorney Emma Harris asked Nasir for his military service number, an eight-digit number assigned to all military personnel.

But Nasir couldn’t remember.

As I wrote an abbreviated note of his response, I could feel my eyes widening.

What she said, or rather didn’t say, was incredible.

No one who served ever forgets this number. I interviewed D-Day veterans who played it out without missing a beat, more than 60 years after landing on the beaches of Normandy with German fire ringing in their ears.

But the lieutenant, the captain, the doctor – yes, she used all those titles – couldn’t remember her number. She couldn’t remember why it didn’t fit.

Appearing shocked by something a defendant says in court is not allowed.

The 12 people on a jury decide the defendant’s innocence or guilt based on the evidence they hear in court. Anyone who tries to influence your thinking will have serious problems with the judge, and could be fined or even sentenced to prison.

I looked at my notebook, continued taking notes, and the moment passed. I was shocked that I was so shocked.

Inside I was screaming, “You’re not telling the truth, none of this is true, this is crazy.”

After the verdict, I tried to talk to Tanya Nasir as she was leaving the courtroom, to ask her why she lied so much to so many people.

She hid under an umbrella in the bright sun, laughing as she walked away.