The Decision (108 page)

‘And what about all the people who don’t know me?’ said Eliza. ‘It’s in the late editions of the
Standard
tonight, Jeremy, there was a reporter there this morning, “Deb of the Year’s downfall” it was called. Oh, God, I wish I was dead.’

‘No, you don’t. And I certainly don’t. This all seems dreadful now, today, but in a few weeks’ time, it will all be forgotten. Tomorrow’s fish-and-chip wrapping, don’t forget, as any old Fleet Street lag will tell you about his scoop.’

‘In a few weeks, in a few days, I won’t have Emmie,’ said Eliza, wiping her eyes again, ‘never mind about anything else. So far I’ve been branded publicly as taking drugs, hitting my child, losing her in a foreign city, and dumping her with your receptionist, while I carried on working, very possibly smoking pot at the same time. Would you grant me custody?’

‘Possibly, possibly not,’ said Jeremy very seriously, ‘but if I was a judge I would be rather too experienced and skilful to be influenced by a lot of sensational evidence. Anyway, it’s your turn soon, isn’t it? We shall hear the other side of the story. And so will the judge.
Courage, mon brave
.
Ma brave
, I suppose. All will be very well.’

Which was more than he could claim for his own situation, he reflected; and after she had gone, returned to wrestling with his own demons and the torments that almost certainly awaited him the next day.

‘Matt,’ said Louise, ‘I’m sure, I’m quite, quite sure, it must have been a one-off thing. Otherwise, Emmie would have been frightened of her. Did she ever seem scared?’

‘No, but—’

‘Listen, we’ve all done awful things we’ve regretted. That we’re ashamed of, even. Haven’t you?’

‘What?’

‘I said, haven’t you ever done anything you were ashamed of?’

‘Oh – yes, yes, of course I have.’

‘Well, there you are.’

‘Yes, but not to a child. Not to my own daughter. And then to lie about it, and obviously to encourage her to lie about it. I just don’t know what to do, Louise, I really don’t.’

‘You don’t have to do anything. That’s the whole point of all this. The judge will do it for you.’

‘And she knew all along, Sarah, that is. I trusted her, you know. And she knew that and she didn’t tell me. Left Emmie at – at risk. It’s – it’s awful. Well, she’ll never be alone with Emmie again either.’

‘Matt! Emmie was not at risk. Didn’t your mother ever wallop you? I know mine did.’

‘Yes, of course, but that’s quite different.’

‘I don’t see why. Look, Matt, you decided to do this. You decided to go down this road, to turn Emmie into an object, that you were going to acquire at all costs. Did you really think that it was going to be all over in a few minutes, with everyone being decent to each other and saying they were sorry?’

‘Of course not. But—’

‘I know this is awful for you. It’s awful for everyone. You, Eliza, Emmie, everyone involved actually, your mother, Scarlett, Sarah – it’s horrible. Of course it is. It didn’t have to be. You chose to do it like this and I’ve backed you all the way. But I will not listen to you now whining and saying it’s not fair. Or words to that effect. Of course it was bad Eliza hit Emmie, and of course it was very – unfortunate she lost her in Milan. But neither of them was as bad as you’ve made out, there are reasons, explanations, Eliza is not a bad person and nor are you, but the barristers and the solicitors and the judge are turning you into bad people, and you can’t blame them either, because that’s their job. So just – just grow up, Matt. I’m going home now, I can’t stand this any longer. You’d better do the same. Remember me to Jimbo.’

‘I do not propose to retell this story, my lord, even from the different perspective of Mrs Shaw’s own experiences. I intend to refute many of the charges against her through the evidence of witnesses. I would merely ask you to consider that there are actually not merely two sides to every story, but frequently three or four. I intend to show the court that Mrs Shaw is a loving, conscientious and intensely caring mother, that her daughter is, as she had said to her mother-in-law, her reason for living; and that while she has been at times thoughtless, reckless even, and might appear irresponsible, her behaviour is always prompted by a genuine desire to do her best for her daughter, and everything that she does is directed ultimately towards her well-being and happiness.

‘We need not retrace the story of the adultery; it is in any case undefended and Mrs Shaw deeply regrets her behaviour, which was a rare instance of moral frailty. In the time she and Mr Shaw have been married, there have been no other incidents of infidelity. There was almost an embarrassment of people willing to speak for her devotion as a mother; we have heard of it already from both her own mother and her mother-in-law, and indeed from Miss Grant, Emmeline’s nanny.

‘And we should not underestimate the career that she gave up in order to care for Emmie; she is regarded as one of the outstanding fashion editors of her generation and we shall hear from just one of the people she worked for that he tried repeatedly to lure her back to work, without success.

‘I would not like to depict Mrs Shaw as a perfect example of a stay-athome mother; she is not. Like so many young women of today she has been highly educated and trained and does not wish to see that education and her own talent wasted. But I believe I can show her as a mother for whom her child, and the security and safety of that child, has always been her first priority, and who struggles at all times to fit her career round that child, rather than the other way round.’

Clifford Rogers spoke. ‘Mrs Shaw, please take the stand and try to tell us why you feel Emmeline should remain in your care.’

She is terrified, Philip thought, looking at Eliza’s eyes as she stood, gripping the edge of the box, exactly as Matt had, the eyes of a creature facing its doom. She has lost faith in herself and her cause; she does not believe she can win. Which is dangerous – he scribbled a note and passed it to Gilmour.

There was a long silence; finally Gilmour stood up.

‘Mrs Shaw,’ he said gently, ‘tell us about Emmie, and why you think she needs you. What would happen to her if she didn’t have you.’

‘Oh. Yes. Well—’ She took a deep breath, then started to speak, gaining some frail momentum as she went. ‘Emmie, like all children, needs security and familiarity. Like all children, she falls apart when faced by change. Her first preoccupation, when my husband and I told her about the divorce, was not which of us she might be going to live with, but whether she would have to have a different house and a different bedroom. She is happy and confident in herself and her life; she has many friends, she is extremely popular. Running her social life alone is quite a full-time job, she’s got a busier diary than I have …’

Clifford Rogers won’t like that, thought Philip; he was already regarding Eliza with a certain disdain, clearly seeing her as a younger version of her mother. She was wearing a very socially neutral outfit, a calf-length Thirties-style dress, in a floral print, and very little make-up. However, there was no disguising the accent, or more importantly the terminology.

‘Mrs Shaw,’ said Bruce Hayward, standing up, ‘are we to infer from this that you feel one of your prime duties as a mother is to organise your child’s social diary?’

‘I object to the tone of that question, my lord.’

‘No, it’s perfectly reasonable. Answer it please, Mrs Shaw.’

‘No, of course not. Not a – a prime duty. What I meant was that – that – I can’t do this,’ she said suddenly, ‘I think I should leave it to others to speak for me. I’m sorry.’

‘Mrs Shaw.’ Clifford Rogers looked at her quite sternly. ‘You are obliged to answer the questions put to you in court. Otherwise you are in contempt. Answer the question.’

‘Yes. Well – well, no, not a prime duty. But one of them.’

‘And the other duties?’ asked Bruce Hayward.

‘Well – to – to see to the child’s physical well-being, to give it love and attention, to make it feel secure—’

‘And you don’t think leaving a child with a nanny and going out to work would make it feel less secure?’

‘Um – possibly. It would depend how you – you organised everything.’

‘Possibly. I see. So you decided to give it a go. To see how it worked out?’

‘No. Not – not at all.’

Another long silence; she was floundering very badly, Gilmour thought. He stood up again.

‘Mrs Shaw, tell us how you felt after your baby died. How this affected your performance as a mother.’

‘Oh. Yes. Well, I was very, very – unhappy. Of course. And I found Emmie very difficult. She is a very demanding little girl. And she could see – she could see I wasn’t—’

‘Mrs Shaw, go on.’ Toby Gilmour’s voice was very gentle.

Another, very long silence. Then – ‘I’m sorry. I don’t want to go on with this. I can’t. There could be no defence of what I did to Emmie that day. However provoked I was. Nothing a child said or did could possibly excuse violence on the part of an adult. I’ve already tried to explain why I think Emmie would be better with me. I – I can’t say any more. I’m sorry.’

This is awful, this is a crucifixion, thought Gordon. We have to get her out of this.

‘Mr Hayward,’ said Clifford Rogers, looking both impatient and bored, ‘do you have any questions for Mrs Shaw?’

‘Only one, at this stage, my lord. Mrs Shaw, your psychiatric treatment was clearly very successful, and how fortunate that it was. How long after the – the incident with your daughter were you able to go to Milan? To stay with your friends in their villa?’

He somehow managed to endow the word ‘villa’ with connotations of debauchery.

‘Oh – well – about three months. Maybe two.’

‘Where you were obviously able to enjoy yourself quite considerably. Shopping, the opera, dining out – all very therapeutic as well, no doubt.’

Eliza was silent.

‘And when you returned, then you began to think about returning to work, as I understand it. That would require considerable self-confidence, surely, after a prolonged absence?’

‘Well, yes. Yes, I suppose so. But I knew – well, I thought – oh, I don’t know.’

‘Mrs Shaw,’ said Clifford Rogers, wearily, ‘that is not acceptable. I have said before, you are obliged to answer the questions put to you. Proceed, Mr Hayward.’

‘I was only seeking to ascertain, my lord, whether Mrs Shaw had found it easy to find the necessary self-confidence to return to work. Mrs Shaw?’

‘Not really, no,’ said Eliza, ‘but I also thought it would help.’

‘Help what exactly?’

‘My state of mind.’

‘Which was?’

‘Well – very unhappy. And – and lonely.’

‘And – staying at home and caring for your child was not going to help that?’

He was a clever bastard, thought Toby; this was getting worse by the minute.

‘Well – no, not really,’ said Eliza.

‘Thank you, Mrs Shaw. No more questions, my lord.’

Toby was back on his feet. ‘I would like to call Miss Scarlett Shaw.’

Shrunk back into her seat, sandwiched between Philip Gordon and his nice, sympathetic assistant, overwhelmed by her failure to perform, Eliza sat and watched Scarlett in awe. She was dressed in a brilliant blue linen trouser suit, her glossy dark hair pulled back from her face; she was not remotely fazed by the situation, indeed she seemed to be enjoying it.

‘I have known Eliza Shaw for many years,’ she said, smiling briefly across at Eliza, ‘and I have seen her with her daughter countless times; I was a frequent visitor to their home. She is a quite marvellous mother. She’s endlessly patient, she’s fun, plays with her all the time, never stops trying to amuse her, she plans outings, she takes her all over the place, and yet she’s very firm with her, she doesn’t spoil her. She makes her do her homework, learn her spellings and so on. And she runs her life. It’s very, very complicated, Emmie’s life, ballet, gym, music, the riding at the weekend, parties – I’d need a secretary if it was mine. And that’s one of the reasons I think my brother would find it so hard to cope with caring for Emmie full-time.’

‘Is it really so difficult to do?’ Toby Gilmour was playing devil’s advocate. ‘I would have thought a man who ran a considerable business empire could organise a little girl’s life for her.’

‘Well yes, but not if he was still trying to run the empire. Matt – Mr Shaw – is a very all-or-nothing person, that’s how he’s achieved what he has. And I know he says he’ll give it up, but I don’t think he’ll be able to, he loves it all too much. He’s brilliant, don’t get me wrong, I admire him more than I can tell you, but – delivering and fetching to and from parties, taking Emmie to the dentist and the doctor, remembering to buy birthday presents for her friends, getting costumes made for the dancing displays – I’ve watched Eliza doing all this, at the same time as she’s running her own life, and she’s brilliant at it. Women are, it’s in our genes—’

‘What is in your genes, Miss Shaw?’ Clifford Rogers was watching Scarlett with a certain fascination.

‘Well – you know – doing six things at once. Men – with respect, my lord – usually can’t.’