Douglas Kennedy: A Special Relationship

'And now to your final witness, Ms Doherty'.

'Yes, My Lord. Ms Brenda Griffiths'.

Unlike Elaine Kendall, the woman who walked down the aisle of the court exuded assurance... indeed, the same sort of self-confidence as Diane Dexter. Though her clothes weren't designer - she wore a simple green suit - she carried herself with great elegance; a forty-year-old woman who wasn't bothered about being a forty-year-old woman. And when she got into the witness box, she favoured Tony with a little wry nod.

Maeve Doherty asked her to explain how she met Tony Hobbs.

'In 1990, when I was a journalist on the Chronicle, I was dispatched for three months to cover the Frankfurt financial scene. Tony was the head of the bureau there. We were a two person office. We were both unattached. We had a fling. We also had a less-than-sober evening towards the end of my stay there, when contraception was not considered. Upon my return to London, I discovered I was pregnant. Naturally I contacted Tony. He was most unhappy about the news, and he certainly didn't offer to "make me an honest woman" or anything like that... not that I wanted or expected that from him. Instead, he begged me to have an abortion... which, I told him, straight away, was not going to happen. "Well then," he said, "don't count on anything from me except financial support." Not a pleasant comment - and yes, I was very upset about it at the time. But, at the same time, I did strangely admire his honesty. He let me know, from the outset, that he wanted nothing to do with this child.

'Anyway, I'm originally from Avon - and I never really liked London, so after finding out I was pregnant, I started asking around about jobs in the Bristol area. Found an opening in BBC Bristol News. Took the job. Moved. Had the baby. Was fortunate enough to meet the most wonderful man around a year later. We married. Catherine, my daughter by Tony, considers Geoffrey to be her father. Geoff and I also have a child together - another daughter, Margaret. And that's about all there is to tell, really'.

'Except that Tony Hobbs has never met his daughter, Catherine - who is now nearly twelve years old?' Maeve asked.

'That's right. I have dropped him the very occasional note over the years, offering him the opportunity to meet her. But eventually, his lack of response said it all. So I haven't bothered contacting him for... god, it must be six years'.

'No further questions, My Lord'.

'Cross-examination, Ms Fforde?'

'Yes, My Lord. Ms Griffiths, why did you agree to testify today?'

'Because Ms Goodchild came to me, explained what Tony had done vis-à-vis their baby, and asked if I would inform the court about Mr Hobbs's lack of interest in his daughter. Given the extremity of Ms Goodchild's situation - and given that Tony was playing the "caring father" card - I felt compelled to "bear witness", so to speak, as to Tony's previous lack of paternal interest'.

'But could it be that, in the twelve years that have elapsed since the birth of your daughter, Mr Hobbs has changed his attitude about fatherhood? Especially when dealing with a woman who has physically threatened...'

'Miss Fforde', Traynor said tetchily, 'this witness cannot answer that question'.

'Apologies, My Lord. Did you bring your daughter here today, Ms Griffiths?'

'God no. I wouldn't expose her to something like this, let alone put her on show'.

'I congratulate you on your concern for the emotional concerns of others'.

'What did I just say to you, Ms Fforde?' Traynor asked.

'Apologies again, My Lord. And no further questions'.

As soon as Brenda Griffiths was out of court, Traynor glanced at his watch and said, 'As that was the last witness for the respondent, I would now like to hear closing submissions'.

But I didn't hear those two arguments, let alone the responses, or Lucinda Fforde exercising her legal right (as counsel for the applicant) to have the final word. Though I didn't move from my seat and was in clear hearing range of both barristers, something in me shut off. Perhaps it was my continued sense of shame at what I had visited upon Elaine Kendall. Maybe it was emotional exhaustion. Maybe I had reached that saturation point where I just couldn't bear to hear the two sides of the story argued out again. Whatever it was, I just sat there, staring at the floor, willing myself not to hear - and succeeding.

Then Nigel Clapp was nudging me. Traynor was speaking.

'As that concludes all evidence and submissions in this hearing, I am now going off to consider my judgment. And I shall return in two hours' time to deliver it'.

This snapped me back to the here and now. After Traynor took his leave, I leaned forward to Maeve and urgently asked, 'If he's giving his judgment in two hours, does it mean he's already written most of it?'

'Perhaps he has', she said, sounding deflated. 'Then again, he might just want to avoid coming to work tomorrow. I know that sounds prosaic, but it's the truth. He's noted for getting things done quickly'.

'Especially when he's already decided what the outcome will be'.

'I'm afraid so'.

Rose Keating had come down to us. She put a consoling hand on my shoulder.

'You all right, dear?'

'Just about. How's Elaine Kendall?'

'Bearing up. Just. I think I'll get her home to Crawley. Don't want to send her back on her own'.

'Good idea', Nigel said. 'And I'll get Ms Griffiths to Paddington'.

'You will be back for the decision?' I asked.

'Of course', he said. 'Will you be all right for the next two hours?'

I glanced across the court. There, opposite us, sat Diane Dexter. Immobile. Rigid. Her face reflecting a mixture of emotional concussion, fury, and sadness. There, next to her, was Tony, frantically whispering to her, trying to bring her around, their relationship suddenly gone haywire after the revelations just disclosed. Revelations that only came out because they had tried to rob me of my child. Which gave me no option but to lash out and find something to undermine them. Just as Maeve and Lucinda Fforde had worked so hard on our respective behalves to decimate the other's case. And now, here we were - in thrall to the forthcoming judgment of a third party - exhausted, spent, equally decimated. No one wins in a case like this one. Everyone comes out looking shabby and squalid.

I put my hand on Maeve's shoulder.

'Whatever happens now, I cannot thank you enough'.

She shook her head. 'I'm going to be straight with you, Sally. I think it looks bad. I could tell that Traynor truly hated our final flourish. Especially poor Elaine Kendall'.

'That was my fault. My great pro-active move'.

'No - it was the right move. And what she said needed to be said. I should have briefed her myself, gauged her emotional state. That was my job - and I didn't do it properly'.

'What are you going to do for the next two hours?'

'Go back to Chambers. And you?'

I grabbed my sister from the back of the court. We walked across the bridge, and lined up for last-minute tickets to the London Eye. We managed to obtain two places. Up we went into the clouds, the city stretched out on all sides of us like one of those sixteenth century maps of the world, where you can begin to believe that the world is flat, and can actually see where the city ends, the precipice begins. Sandy peered out west - past the Palace, the Albert Hall, the green lushness of Kensington Gardens, the high residential grandness of Holland Park, into the endless suburban beyond.

'You say this town has got its great moments...' she said, 'but I bet most of the time, it's just grim'.

Which kind of sums up so much of life, doesn't it?

When we were released from that massive ferris wheel, we bought ice creams like a pair of tourists temporarily freed from the day-to-day demands of life. Then we crossed Waterloo Bridge back to The Strand, and entered the High Court for what I knew would be the last time.