‘Jeremy! My dear, dear friend, how marvellous to see you. Mariella,
cara
, here is Jeremy—’ and Jeremy, bending to kiss her, breathing in her perfume, brushing against her hair, tortured, terrified, said it would be delightful to join them for dinner, but alas he had ten guests with him and they had booked a table at the River Room at the Savoy. ‘Then let us have a drink together now,’ Giovanni said, ‘and we can meet perhaps for lunch tomorrow – after Mariella has made her appearance in court, she is a little nervous I think, a little quiet this evening, but she will be wonderful, Jeremy, will she not, and you must join us at the Ritz at – shall we say, one thirty – no, no refusals, I will not hear of it—’
And then they returned to their seats, away from one another once more, to the doomed love story playing out before them as well as their own.
Mariella had hardly slept; when she did, after dawn, it was to dream of loss, of parting, of empty houses and silent rooms. She awoke with a start to find Giovanni no longer beside her; anxious without knowing why, she sat up with a start. And saw him standing on the balcony; she stumbled out of bed and joined him, and they looked together over the gardens of the Ritz, a piece of the English countryside come to town, green and filled with birdsong, drenched in dew. Giovanni looked pale, she thought, and said so; he said he had a headache, but it was nothing to worry about, merely too much champagne the night before. He would be better soon, he told her; meanwhile she must get prepared for the day’s performance. He said how much he would like to come and watch her, but since it was not allowed, he would wait in their suite for her return.
They had breakfast together on the balcony and then she ran a bath and lay in it for quite a long time, and he sat with her and told her how beautiful she was, and how very much he loved her; and how proud of her he was.
She asked him how his headache was and he said it was perhaps a little better; she offered to stay a little longer, but he told her to go, and that she must do her very best that day for Eliza, who needed her more than he did.
And when they rang to say her car had arrived to take her to the Law Courts, he escorted her to the front of the hotel, kissed her goodbye and said he would see her at lunchtime with Jeremy.
‘The perfect English gentleman,’ he said, speaking in English, ‘how lucky we are to have him as a friend.’
‘Good luck, darling, and I’ll have Emmie there at three, don’t worry.’
‘Thank you, Mummy. On second thoughts, I think the Pollyanna sailor dress. It’s her favourite and it’s very little girly. The judge will like it.’
‘She – she says she wants to wear her stripy dungarees. You know, the Osh Kosh ones.’
‘Well, she can’t. Mummy, you are not to bring her to court in dungarees.’
‘No, darling, of course not.’
Toby and Philip were waiting on the steps for Eliza when she arrived; she was feeling different today, she realised, more positive, stronger, after her low of the day before, without knowing quite why. Not beaten. Not yet.
‘My lord,’ said Toby Gilmour, ‘I would like to call Signora Mariella Crespi.’
Judge Rogers nodded rather curtly; he had already formed an opinion of Signora Crespi and it was not benign.
Mariella did not do anything as prosaic as walk; she swept into the courtroom and the witness box. She looked incredible; even Bruce Hayward appeared slightly stunned. She was wearing a white trouser suit, with apparently nothing under the jacket, a thick, thick gold and pearl rope round her neck, and matching gold bracelets on her slender wrists. Her make-up was flawless, her eyes hugely dark, her lips a brilliant red gloss. Her dark hair was piled high on her head and in her ears were large pearl and gilt studs – Chanel, thought Eliza automatically, and that suit was undoubtedly Yves Saint Laurent, the very same design as Bianca had worn for her wedding to Mick.
Toby turned to face her. His face was admirably blank.
‘Signora Crespi, you met Eliza Shaw, I believe, while she was fashion editor of
Charisma
.’
‘Yes, that is correct. She was very, very important to me, she made me famous. Famous enough to win the best dressed title early this year.’
Clearly no one was to be left in any doubt as to how important she was.
‘And then she became one of my dearest, closest friends. She is a most wonderful person, generous, good, so, so kind and loyal, and a most wonderful mother.’
‘Yes, indeed. Now – Signora Crespi, perhaps you could tell us about the time Mrs Shaw came to visit you in Milan. In December 1969.’
‘Of course. She had been very depressed, after losing the baby, so, so sad, and I invited her to join us for a week or so. It was the beginning of the Milanese season, which starts, as I am sure you know, on the seventh of December, when there is a gala opera performance, usually of Verdi. My husband and I always attend, and entertain in our box at La Scala. It was not Eliza’s first visit, she had come two or three years earlier, and brought the little Emmie with her. She would never, ever come without her, even though sometimes I thought it would have done her good, made a better holiday for her.’
‘I see. And what did you do, the day Emmie went missing?’
‘Well, we drove into Milan—’
‘You don’t live in the city itself?’
‘No, no, of course not.’ Clearly they were all expected to know this. ‘We live in our villa on the shores of Lake Como.’
‘I see. Yes.’
‘It is perhaps an hour’s drive into Milan. There was myself, Eliza, Emmie and one of my maids, Anna-Maria, who cares for Emmie on her visits. Emmie loved her, I cannot tell you how she loved Anna-Maria, and Anna-Maria her.’
‘I see,’ said Toby again. ‘And when you got to Milan?’
‘We looked at all the shops and the Christmas displays. Then I had to visit my dressmaker and buy some shoes, and Emmie wanted to go into Rinascente, that is the department store. I suggested she went with Anna-Maria. Eliza was very, very worried about this, but I insisted, I needed her opinion on some buttons—’
‘Buttons?’
‘Buttons, yes. So it was agreed that we should meet with Maria and Emmie in one half of an hour in the Café Cova, perhaps you know the Café Cova—’
‘I do indeed. Delightful!’
Did he? Eliza wondered, jerked out of the fairy story Mariella was telling them all. He was managing her very well.
‘But after a little while Anna-Maria arrived, in tears, having hysteria I would say, Emmie had run away from her, she is a very, very naughty little girl, however
dolce
. Anna-Maria had worked very, very hard at finding Emmie, but with no success. But we quickly found her, within a very few minutes, I would say—’
‘And where was she?’
‘She was in Rinascente still, in the children’s shoe department. She had found it by herself, she had said she wanted some new shoes, and when a girl wants shoes, she must have them.’
‘And – what was she doing, was she crying, was she distressed?’
‘Of course she was not,’ said Mariella dismissively, ‘she was trying to decide which of two pairs she should buy, she had one on each foot, I often do that myself.’
‘And – what did she say when she saw you?’
‘She said, and I shall always remember, it was so sweet, so adorable, she said, “Which do you think?” Well of course I said she should have them both.’
‘And – how was Mrs Shaw while Emmie was missing?’
‘She was very, very upset, quite distraught of course, of course. But it was not for long and there was a happy end. Later that night, over dinner, she said Emmie had run away before, more than once. She is very, very naughty, as I have said.’
‘Well, thank you, Signora Crespi.’
Bruce Hayward stood up.
‘Signora Crespi, thank you for that very – very vivid account. I wonder – in a crowded, strange city, perhaps it would have been better for your maid to restrain Emmeline in some way. With some reins, for example.’
‘Reins? She is not a horse.’
‘No, of course not, but there are reins, I believe, for keeping children close to you in such situations.’
‘Well, we did not have any reins,’ said Mariella with a slightly impatient frown, ‘and believe me, Emmie would not have worn them if we had. She knows her own head, that one.’
‘Or – perhaps she should have stayed with you?’
‘What, in the dressmakers? Of course not. Children have no place in such establishments, and besides I could not have concentrated. No, it was my insisting that Eliza came without her that was to blame.’
‘I see. No more questions.’
Clearly even Bruce Hayward could see there was not a great deal of future in cross-examination at this point.
Then a clerk came in with a note for Philip Gordon; he read it, looked at Eliza, looked across at Toby and then whispered, ‘Excuse me,’ to Eliza and left the courtroom. She felt irritated. How could he leave now, when this was so crucial to her survival? She tried to concentrate on Toby, who had returned to his task – and to Mariella.
‘So, Signora Crespi, perhaps you could tell us now about the following evening? When the fog left you stranded in the city?’
‘Ah, yes. Our famous
nebbia
. This time it was the fault of Fate, not me, that kept Eliza from her little one. When we left Como, it was clear. When we came out of La Scala, it was impossible to see more than a few metres. No, I would say a few centimetres. It would have been hugely dangerous to try to get back to Como. Emmie would have been left motherless. And – how dreadful that would have been.’
‘Indeed.’
‘So, Eliza stayed with some friends in their apartment. She did not sleep for one moment, I know. And then she very bravely set out next day, before we would dare to risk it, with some friends, some very, very brave friends, and an exceedingly brave driver, and made a way back to Como through the
nebbia
, to be with Emmie once more.’
‘And – who was looking after Emmie at the villa?’
‘Oh – so many people. Anna-Maria. The cook. The butler. My husband’s valet. All waiting upon her. Eliza spoke to her on the phone many times …’
‘Signora Crespi—’
‘Yes?’ Mariella looked at Bruce Hayward disdainfully. She clearly greatly preferred Toby Gilmour.
‘Would it not have been better if Mrs Shaw had stayed at the villa with Emmie, rather than gone into Milan in the fog?’
‘That would have been extremely rude, do you not think?’ said Mariella. ‘My husband would have been most offended, having made so many arrangements for her.’
‘I think perhaps even so—’
‘And besides,’ said Mariella, interrupting him, ‘we did not know the fog would come. It arrives from nowhere.’
Bruce Hayward gave up. Clifford Rogers would surely see through this ridiculous creature.
But Clifford Rogers was gazing at Mariella in something approaching incredulity; and then called an early break.
‘This afternoon I shall see the child. And if there is time we can begin the summing up. Otherwise, that can take place in the morning.’
‘All rise.’
Eliza walked out of the courtroom, down into the atrium. It was all beginning to seem rather familiar.
‘Eliza—’ It was Toby. ‘I need to talk to you most urgently. Let’s go to my rooms. We have a little time and it’s very important—’
She followed him in silence.
‘Something has cropped up this morning. Something which could really influence our chances. But – it has to be your call.’
‘What are you talking about, Toby? Why now, why not sooner?’
‘I didn’t know sooner. It’s all happened this morning. Philip has been dealing with it.’
‘Was that why he rushed out?’
‘Yes. Anyway, we have a new witness, but – but I need your permission to call her.’
‘What are you talking about? My permission? Who is it?’
‘It’s Georgina Barker. She rang on Monday, and said she would like to come and see us to discuss the case, but then cancelled; we didn’t think it worth worrying you. And then she called again yesterday, but of course I’d left and my clerk couldn’t contact me until much later.’
‘But – why? I don’t understand.’
‘She wants to give evidence against Matt. Reading between the lines, I would say he’s upset her in some way and she’s having her revenge. Pretty ugly actually.’
‘But—’
‘Apparently he told her he’d hit you once.’
‘Oh! Oh, Toby, no—’
‘Yes. Well, I always suspected there’s been some violence. Was – was that the only instance?’
‘Yes. Yes, it was. Oh, my God. How – how weird. I mean that, she should come back.’
‘Indeed. But—’
She was silent. Then, ‘Toby, I don’t think I want that coming out. I don’t want her standing up in court and telling everyone.’
He sighed. ‘I had a hunch you’d say that.’
‘I really don’t.’
‘It could make all the difference, Eliza. It could win you the case. Win you Emmie. I’m not exaggerating. Please think very, very carefully about it.’