Douglas Kennedy - A Special Relationship

I interrupted here. 'Now Tony insisted that, from the outset, they were just friends'.

'Well', Rose Keating said, 'they may have been "just friends", but she took him on a South African holiday in '99, then scuba-diving on the Great Barrier Reef the following year, then spent a month with him in Cairo in 2001'.

'What month in 2001?' I asked.

'September'.

'That makes sense. We first hooked up in October of that year'.

'Hate to tell you this, but it was she who dropped him in September - on account of the fact that he wouldn't come back to London to live with her'.

Maeve Doherty came in here.

'Did you manage to find out when they started seeing each other again?'

She nodded. 'About twelve months ago - shortly after Mr Hobbs's return from Cairo'.

I sucked in my breath. And asked, 'How do you know that?'

'Ms Dexter's ex-housekeeper told me. He came over one afternoon to see her'.

Maeve Doherty asked, 'But did the ex-housekeeper state whether he was just visiting her or actually visiting her?'

'Oh, it was definitely the latter. He stayed with her until about one in the morning... and they didn't emerge from her bedroom until it was time for him to leave'.

... and to go home and tell me he'd been out boozing late with his chums.

Now I asked, 'And according to the housekeeper, was he regularly at her place thereafter?'

'According to the housekeeper, yeah', Rose Keating said. 'He was over there all the time'.

Maeve Doherty asked, 'I suppose Mr Hobbs's barrister could question the validity of the housekeeper's testimony... especially as she was an ex-employee'.

'That's right', Rose Keating said. 'Fired for alleged stealing'.

'Oh, great', I said.

'Yeah, but the housekeeper got legal advice and forced Ms Dexter's hand. Turns out not only did she receive a written apology from her, saying the whole charge was false, but she also got a cheque for a year's wages as a way of saying sorry'.

'And will this housekeeper be willing to testify?' Maeve Doherty asked.

'Oh, yes. She don't think much of Ms Dexter, that's for sure. And she also told me where and when the two of them slipped out of town for a little romantic rendezvous over the past six months. Twice in Brussels, once in Paris. Got the names of the hotels, called them up, they confirm that Mr Hobbs had company on both occasions. In fact, the concierge at the Hotel Montgomery in Brussels told me it was the same woman both times.

'Oh... one final important thing. Seems Ms Dexter miscarried a child when she was big into cocaine. The year afterwards, she tried IVF. Didn't take. Tried it again in '92 and '93, by which time she was forty, and the game was kind of over. The thing is - according to the ex-housekeeper - having a kid has become something of an obsession with her, to the point where, in the mid-nineties, she considered adopting for a while until business stuff superseded... seems she ran into a little corporate financial problem for a while...'

I looked at Rose Keating, amazed. 'How the hell did you find all this stuff out?'

She gave me a coy smile: 'I've got my ways, dear'.

Maeve Doherty said, 'The fact that they were carrying on while he was also married to you is good stuff. The fact that he has written that theirs was a friendship until your illness - and we have proof otherwise - is also good stuff. And the fact that she's been desperate for a baby all these years... well, we can certainly put two-plus-two together on that one'.

But then she looked at me directly and said, 'However, I have to be honest with you here, Sally. In my opinion, while all this evidence is useful, it still doesn't contradict, or undermine, the dirt they have against you'.

I suddenly felt in need of an extra dose of anti-depressants. Just as I suddenly saw myself down at the Aldwych, lining up with other would-be emigrants at Australia House, explaining to some bored consular official how my ex-husband and his new wife won residence of my child, and I want a visa for the Land of Oz so I'll be able to have my weekly visit with my little boy. To which the consular official would undoubtedly ask, 'And why did your husband receive residence of your little boy?'

'Uhm... Ms Goodchild?'

I snapped back to terra firma.

'You all right, dear?' Rose Keating asked me.

'I'm trying to be'.

'The problem is', Maeve Doherty said, 'the Final Hearing is in twelve days. And unless...'

Nigel Clapp came in here. 'Uhm... I think what Ms Doherty is getting at is... uhm... well, to be completely direct about it, we need to find something else on either your husband or Ms Dexter. As Ms Keating has done such a thorough job sifting through Ms Dexter's life' -

'Can you think of anything about your husband that might be useful?' Maeve asked me.

'You mean, besides the fact that he dodged marriage for years and told me he never wanted kids?'

'But he still brought you with him to London when you became pregnant', Maeve said.

'I don't know', I said. 'His life was pretty much work and the occasional girlfriend before I came along. I can't say he told me much about all that. In fact, the only time I found out anything about his old private life was when some journo in Cairo told me...'

At that moment, I heard a tiny little ping in the back of my brain; a single line of conversation that had been spoken to me around seven months ago. Something which, in my confusion at the time, I hadn't even picked up on. Until now. When, out of nowhere, it was yanked up from the dustbin of my brain and placed in front of me.

'Are you all right, dear?' Rose Keating asked me.

'Could I use your phone, please?'

I called Directory Enquiries for Seaford. The number I wanted was listed, but the person I needed to speak with wasn't there. I left a message, asking her to call me at home in London urgently. Then I went back to Nigel's office and explained whom I was trying to contact, what she said to me some months earlier, and why it might prove useful.

'It's a bit of a long shot', I explained, 'because what she said was pretty damn vague. But it's worth finding out what she meant by it'.

'Uhm... do you think you could track her down and talk to her?' Nigel Clapp asked. 'We have just twelve days'.

Twelve days. That deadline kept looming in my mind. As did the realization that Maeve Doherty had been speaking the truth: without some new evidence, the court would probably find for Tony. The record spoke for itself.

Twelve days. I rushed home to Putney and checked my messages. Just one - from Jane Sanjay, informing me she was back in the country, but was down visiting friends in Brighton for a week before starting work again. 'We'll do that lunch sometime in the future... and, of course, I'll see you at the High Court for the hearing. Hope you're somehow keeping calm...'

Hardly. I re-dialled the Seaford number. Once again, I was connected to the answer phone. Once again, I left a message. Then I went back to work on the Film Guide. But unlike my previous proofreading stints, this time I was unable to fall into the rabbit hole of work and cut off from the outside world for a two-hour stretch. This time, I kept glancing at the phone, willing it to ring. Which it didn't.

So I called back and left another message. Then I started calling at three-hour intervals.

At the end of the day, the phone did ring. I jumped. But it was Rose Keating.

'Just called to see if there was any news?' she asked.

'She hasn't rung me back yet'.

'Keep trying, dear', she said, though I also grasped the subtext of what she was saying: we need something new.

By midnight, I must have called another eight times. I slept fitfully and eventually found myself at the kitchen table around five that morning, proofing some more pages. At seven, I tried the Seaford number. No answer. I tried again at ten, at three, at six. Then, when I phoned at eight-thirty, the unexpected happened. It was actually answered. When Pat Hobbs heard my voice, she became indignant.