Turning to meet her daughter’s eyes, Madeleine realized that the courtroom was already practically full with onlookers and media. Glancing briefly to her left, she saw Christine Campbell sitting in the bench behind Kate and Declan, eyes locked on her. Madeleine tried her hardest to keep a neutral expression and ignore the look of judgment that woman seemed to wear permanently when it came to her family. She no longer wondered what she thought and definitely didn’t care. The mere fact that Kate’s solicitor was Christine’s cousin was enough. She didn’t need a red pen to connect the dots.
“Honey, no, you have to sit back there. What did I tell you before?” she answered kindly. “There isn’t enough room at this table for you, and Dad and I have to sit up here.”
Clara’s brow furrowed as she seemed to digest this, and then she threw an interested glance in Kate’s direction. “Is that Rosie’s mum?”
Moistening her lips, Madeleine replied, “Yes, that’s Rosie’s mum.” She hoped her voice, and Clara’s, was low enough. She didn’t want Kate to overhear.
“Is Rosie going to be here, too?” her daughter asked hopefully.
Madeleine took a deep breath. She wasn’t sure that Clara really understood everything that was going on today. She and Tom had explained to both of the kids that there was an argument of sorts happening because of the fact that both she and Rosie had measles, but she also knew that the intricacies involving such a matter were beyond their comprehension. Hell, the whole thing was still beyond Madeleine’s comprehension and she guessed her daughter was wondering if her classmate was going to be there in the hope of her scoring a playmate in order to break up what would surely be monotonous grown-up stuff.
Wishing again that she hadn’t been duped into bringing the kids, Madeleine answered, “No, honey, Rosie won’t be here.” She didn’t elaborate any further.
But little Rosie O’Hara was in no condition to be here in the courtroom. Madeleine was relieved when she’d heard late last year that Rosie had finally been discharged from hospital. But she also knew that the little girl was receiving ongoing care and that Kate needed the help of a rehabilitation nurse at home.
It was a horrific situation and she felt so sorry for what had happened, but were she and Tom really and truly responsible for all that? She still didn’t think so, but thankfully, she hadn’t been in Kate’s situation, so she had no idea how she would feel.
There but for the grace of God...
In any event, Madeleine couldn’t help but imagine what the presence of a disabled six-year-old in a wheelchair would do to the judge—and their case.
Hopefully, Kate’s solicitor had some class and wasn’t planning on taking a page out of the Matt Townsend legal playbook.
“Oh,” said Clara, digesting this information and taking a glance around at the other people on the nearby benches. “Are there going to be any other kids here?”
Madeleine started to shake her head in the negative when Jake interrupted. “Mum, when is this going to start? How long is this going to take?”
She looked across at Tom and Matt, who were in deep conversation with Michael McGuinness, the barrister who would be representing their side in court throughout the trial. Her husband seemed completely unaware of what they would be dealing with having the kids present, and she felt annoyed afresh. Right, it was supposed to “humanize” them—except for the fact that Jake and Clara were going to be bored, fidgety and wishing that they were anywhere but here.
And if they started acting up, how was Madeleine supposed to deal with them effectively without making a show of herself? Especially when all eyes would be on her, and the reason she and Tom were here in the first place was because of their apparently monstrous parental skills...
Smiling tightly, she did her best to keep an easy expression on her face. “It should be starting shortly, OK, hon?” Jake rolled his eyes. “And I’ll make you a deal. If you can get through this morning, and just play on your iPad and be quiet, we can go to the toy shop later, and you can pick anything you want.”
Jake’s eyes glittered. “Anything?” He was waiting for her to put a monetary stipulation on the deal.
“Up to twenty euro.”
“Fifty,” said Jake.
Madeleine quickly rubbed her right temple. She could feel a headache blossoming behind her eye. Reasoning with her son was like negotiating with a terrorist.
“OK, thirty,” she countered and, despite herself, her mind automatically jumped to her now-defunctMad Mumblog. Back in the day, this would have been perfect fodder for a column.How to Keep Your Kids Quiet in Court.
But, she thought sadly, those days were long gone.
“Deal.” Jake gave her a thumbs-up.
“Good. Now hush.” She looked over her shoulder. The bailiff had just entered the room, which meant that the judge would be close behind. She placed a finger over her lips and met the eyes of both her children, urging them to busy themselves with their electronics. Then she turned back to face the front of the courtroom. The bailiff cleared his throat and Madeleine felt herself do the same.
Eighteen months of drama, heartbreak, soul-searching and legal preparation had led to this moment.
The trial was beginning.
37
Throughout that first morning, as my and the Coopers’ barristers outlined the circumstances of our case and their central arguments to the judge before first witnesses were called, I caught Madeleine’s eye a couple of times. She seemed focused on keeping her expression neutral, as I’m sure her solicitor coached her to do. Tom Cooper seemed to pointedly avoid looking anywhere in my direction.
I didn’t know him at all before this fiasco, but I remembered hearing from Christine that he was arrogant, and I wondered if he was worried about his ability to keep his temper if he locked eyes with me.
