‘You mean the Red Queen with the axe?’

  ‘Yes. I wasn’t sure we’d even be here today, after that call last night about the jurors.’

  ‘Oh that. They’ve decided to ignore it.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I know. There was some big conference call early this morning. They dragged Bridget out of bed for it. All the most senior people. They decided it was bad, but stopping the trial would be worse. They’re working on things for the next televised trial, like putting the jurors up in a hotel without TV or Wifi, but it’s too late for us.’

  ‘Do you really think they’re all watching it – Court TV – like the man said?’

  ‘Who knows? I’d probably be tempted. Wouldn’t you?’

  * * *

  With Ellis’ departure, Ben was left sitting alone in the corridor, awaiting Laidlaw or someone from his team. Constance peered at him, around the door and he beckoned her over.

  ‘I shouldn’t be seen talking to you,’ she said, as she approached. ‘You’re a prosecution witness.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Ben mumbled. ‘I didn’t want to be on my own.’

  ‘I can understand you feeling nervous, but it will be over very quickly, I promise.’

  ‘I was OK, till I got up there and saw Dad. And then I started thinking that he’s only here, dealing with all this, because of me.’

  ‘This isn’t your fault,’ Constance said. ‘You need to believe that.’

  ‘Does he have to be there, listening?’

  ‘I can’t talk to you about…’

  ‘You think I’m going to say something bad about him and I don’t want him to hear it. It’s not that at all.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘I just know he misses her too, Mum. He misses her the way we do, Laura and me and Uncle Ellis. And he can’t even cry for her. And if I go in there and I start talking about her, about Mum, his wife, in front of all those people. Little things. Personal things. Things you keep in a family. It’s not right. I don’t want to do it.’

  ‘I can understand that…’

  ‘I never did. I said I would, if you thought it would help Dad. But I’ve been watching and I see what he asks, the other lawyer. And she does it too, Judith.’

  ‘Look, I’ll ask Judith to speak to Mr Laidlaw, see what we can do to have you released. But if we push too hard, they’ll suspect it’s because you have something bad to say. It may be better for your dad, for you to just give your evidence now, even though you don’t want to.’

  ‘What if he asks me where Mum went the night before she died?’ Ben said, the words falling quickly from his mouth.

  ‘Where did she go?’ Constance looked around her to check they were alone as she was speaking.

  ‘I don’t know. But she got all dressed up; hair, makeup, new clothes, loads of perfume.’

  ‘Was that unusual?’

  ‘Yeah. I would have teased her that she had a date, but we weren’t talking. I was planning to stay with a friend but, well I had a bit to drink and I didn’t feel so good, so I came home instead. She got back really late. Should I have told you before? I didn’t want Dad to know.’

  ‘No, it’s no problem,’ Constance lied. ‘And if Mr Laidlaw asks you, you must tell him the truth.’

  * * *

  ‘Jeremy? Could we have a word, in private please? Judith approached Laidlaw, at the back of the court, away from the microphones.

  ‘What can I do for you?’ Laidlaw was smiling openly, arms crossed, chest puffed out, like a friendly bouncer.

  ‘Ben Mallard, your next witness. He’s your witness, of course, but…concern has been raised with my solicitor regarding the impact this will have on him, testifying out there in front of the cameras, effectively, against his father. Is there any chance you might consider not calling him? His evidence is of limited value; it’s only about the emergency call, isn’t it? He’s probably of more use to the defence, if the truth be told.’

  Laidlaw thought for a moment. ‘When I prepare for a trial, it might surprise you to know that I weigh up carefully who is absolutely necessary as a witness. I don’t want to waste anyone’s time and I certainly don’t want to traumatise a sixteen-year-old boy unnecessarily. I have kids of my own.’

  ‘You still want him then. I understand.’

  ‘Why ask if you already knew the answer? I would have been with you and permitted him to talk behind a screen without any difficulty, but we all know that that wasn’t going to be allowed. Insufficiently transparent for this new age of popular justice.’ Laidlaw paused and looked across at the witness box.

  ‘Look, there is something, just between you and me. Ben has some health issues; we’re worried this might…exacerbate them.’

  ‘Then you should have made that clear when we had the preliminary hearing, and you know I would have been accommodating. It’s too late now.’

  ‘Will you at least take instructions?’ Judith asked.

  ‘Take instructions? You don’t think that my word is the final word? I heard you were going soft in your old age, but I didn’t believe it.’

  ‘Can you, for a moment, refrain from point-scoring and take what I am asking you at face value? There is no agenda. He’s just sixteen, he’s lost his mother and he’s fragile. And if I should have handled things differently, then that’s my mistake, but don’t punish him for it.’

  ‘All right. I will talk to my team and we’ll take the football coach next, although we’ll need a few minutes to find him and get him in here. I’m fairly sure we’ll still want Ben afterwards, but I’ll keep things to the minimum. That’s the best I can do for your concerned solicitor, and more than I would usually concede.’

  * * *

  Judith had taken advantage of the short break to brave the crowds and rush to a nearby pharmacy for paracetamol. She rarely suffered from headaches, but today her skull felt like it was going to explode. Then again, she didn’t normally navigate a trial on zero sleep, constant anxiety about how she looked, her body language and how she presented the evidence to ensure minimum offence. And now, on top of that, she felt that she should have taken more steps to protect Ben, rather than leave him exposed in this way. As she swallowed two tablets with a swig of water and ran from the shop, she bumped straight into Ellis, who was checking his phone in the doorway.

  ‘Oh. Hello again! You’re getting some fresh air too?’ she said.

  ‘I’d prefer a whisky. Maybe I’ll have one, once Ben’s finished.’ Ellis marched next to Judith, as she hurried across the road. ‘Listen, I know it’s not really my business, but did you have to go in so hard on Elaine?’

  Judith walked even faster. ‘You’re right,’ she said. ‘It isn’t your business.’

  ‘OK. I probably deserved that. But Ben is definitely my business.’

  ‘And we’re not calling him as a witness. But I couldn’t stop the prosecution.’

  Ellis stopped walking and he rolled his shoulders back with a deep sigh. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I didn’t mean to take things out on you. It’s just I’ve been with them both, Ben and Laura, almost constantly, for the last few weeks. I’m not complaining. I would do it again in a heartbeat. It’s just it’s painful to see, that’s all.’

  ‘I understand.’ Judith said. ‘It will be over soon. I need to get back.’

  ‘Sure,’ Ellis called after her, as he stopped to take a call. ‘I’ll make sure I’m there in time for Ben, don’t worry.’

  Judith waved one hand above her head as she was swallowed up once more by the protesting crowds outside the court.

  * * *

  ‘Mr Isleworth, you worked with Danny Mallard between 2011 and 2017, when he managed West Ham football club?’ Laidlaw had been waiting for Judith outside the court, tapping his foot against the door. She had straightened her wig and gown and marched straight past him and into court. What was the expression? Never apologise, never explain. That pithy mantra summed up how she felt in that moment, as the pills kicked in and her migraine began to subside.

  ‘That’s right,’ Mr Isleworth replied.

  ‘You were the head coach?’

  ‘I was.’

  ‘Was Danny a good manager?’

  ‘On balance, I’d say yes.’

  ‘That suggests you are weighing up some good points and some bad?’

  ‘There’s always room for improvement. He had good ideas, was very hands on, but a bit inflexible. You know, if something didn’t quite work out, he would say that the lads had to change, to do what he wanted.’

  ‘Rather than what?’

  ‘Rather than beginning with what you’ve got, you know, looking at the team, at their strengths and then playing to those strengths.’

  ‘I see.’

  Judith thought Laidlaw probably didn’t. She couldn’t see him having much insight into how the beautiful game was played. He would play something much cleaner and without any contact, most probably tennis…or badminton.

  ‘Was Danny popular with the lads?’ Now he was trying the vernacular, but it didn’t suit him.

  ‘It depends. Some of them really liked Danny; they respected his work ethic, but he certainly clashed with two or three players, and we had to let them go.’

  ‘When you worked with the defendant, as you say, she was Danny, a male colleague?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘When did you first become aware that she wanted to become a woman?’

  Judith waved a hand in Laidlaw’s direction, as she half-rose.

  ‘Much as this trip down memory lane must be fascinating for those at home seeking to know more and more about my client’s personal affairs, it appears to have no bearing on these proceedings,’ she said.

  ‘I will be getting to the point shortly, your honour. I accept this is background, but it is necessary background, in order to provide context for what will come next. From those five years working closely with the defendant, would you say that Debbie is a kind individual?’

  Judith was on her feet before Laidlaw had finished his sentence.

  ‘Your honour?’

  ‘Ms Burton, I’d like to see where Mr Laidlaw is going with this, so I will give him a little latitude, as long as it’s quick.’

  ‘No, not kind,’ Ken Isleworth said.

  ‘So how would you describe the defendant?’

  ‘It’s difficult to say in a few words.’

  ‘I can help you out with a few adjectives if you like. Was the defendant funny?’

  ‘Not really.’

  ‘Warm?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Relaxed?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Was she the kind of person who would flatter you, make you feel good about something?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘In summary, she was unkind, serious, cold, anxious and brutally honest?’

  Now Judith understood. Laidlaw was going for the soundbite, tomorrow’s headline, something for the press to sink their teeth into; the real face of Debbie Mallard. But he had not bargained for Ken Isleworth as an adversary.

  ‘You’re twisting my words,’ Ken said. ‘If you were all those things you just said: warm, kind, the lads would walk all over you. You have to be tough and you have to be straight-talking. But what’s wrong with that? Your job isn’t to stand up in a court room and wave your arms around, it’s to motivate the team to succeed, outside, in all weathers and even when things are going spectacularly wrong. OK, Danny was always a bit on the cool side, but nobody’s perfect.’

  ‘If you say so. When did the defendant tell you that she was becoming a woman?’

  Ken ran his hand across his face.

  ‘About two years ago, maybe a bit less than that. I’d noticed things, I hadn’t said anything, but in a way that made it worse.’

  ‘What kind of things?’

  ‘She had something done to her hair, grew it longer, dyed it blond, had it cut different. And…’ Ken swallowed but soldiered on, ‘I noticed she’d started to develop breasts.’

  Judith leaped up. ‘Your honour, this is intolerable. This witness has nothing of any relevance whatsoever to say. Instead my client is being subjected to this inappropriate…strip-search on live TV, purely to titillate viewers!’

  ‘Ms Burton, watch how you conduct yourself!’ Judge Nolan had raised herself out of her chair. Judith remained standing, opened her mouth, then closed it again and sat down. While her words might have been over the top, there was no need to reprimand her in quite such an overbearing way.

  ‘Mr Laidlaw, I don’t want any more questions regarding personal details of the defendant’s transitioning process, unless they are absolutely necessary,’ Judge Nolan barked.

  Laidlaw smiled with his eyes only and inclined his head ever so slightly towards the judge, by way of acknowledgement. At least he, too, was unhappy with his treatment.

  ‘Did you speak to the defendant about what you saw?’ Laidlaw continued.

  ‘It was awkward. I didn’t want to pry. But eventually, I made up a reason for us to have a coffee together and she told me.’

  ‘The defendant told you then, around two years ago, that she was going to transition, to become a woman.’

  ‘She asked me what I thought.’

  ‘And what did you say?’

  ‘I said that she had to do it, if she felt it was right. I mean, she must have thought really hard about it. And I thought it was brave; there, that’s a word I would use to describe her, “brave”. I was a bit shocked, if I’m honest.’

  ‘You were shocked?’

  ‘Even with the things I mentioned,’ Ken gave a brief sidelong glance towards Judge Nolan, ‘like her hair, I didn’t imagine that. I mean, as I said, she had a wife and two children. And she was Danny Mallard. You can’t get more of a macho hero than that. Lots of little boys all wanting to be like Danny.’

  ‘Did you ask if Rosie was being supportive?’

  ‘Not like that, but I probably said, “what does Rosie think?” – that kind of thing.’

  ‘What did she say?’

  ‘She didn’t really answer the question, just deflected it, so I suppose that meant no. And I was right ’cos they got divorced, didn’t they?’

  ‘Just stick to the facts, Mr Isleworth. Did the defendant talk to you about leaving Rosie, moving out?’

  ‘It just came up one day that she’d moved out. I’m not sure when.’

  ‘Did Debbie like her position as manager of West Ham?’

  ‘She loved it.’

  ‘Why did she leave?’

  ‘She fell out with the boss.’

  ‘George Scopos, the owner?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘They had an argument?’

  ‘That’s what I heard.’

  ‘Punches were thrown?’

  ‘I don’t know about that.’

  ‘That’s what the papers said at the time.’

  ‘I don’t always believe what’s in the papers.’

  ‘I can read you one of the headlines. “Mallard sacked after fist fight with boss”. Or there’s “Hammers lose hero coach after punch-up”. Do either of those jog your memory?’

  ‘I saw the headlines.’

  ‘So she left her managerial position?’

  ‘Pretty much straightaway.’

  ‘The defendant didn’t get another job coaching a premier league side, did she?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘How did she feel about that?’

  ‘Not very good, I imagine. But that’s football, isn’t it? One minute you’re up with the gods, the next you’re down with the dogs.’

  * * *

  Judith tapped her pen against her pursed lips. She had little to ask this witness but, given his clear allegiance to Debbie, despite Laidlaw’s relentless pressure, she wanted to glean something positive from him, if possible. He had said Debbie was brave; perhaps she could capitalise on that, make it her own takeaway point from the session. And the public had liked the bit about Debbie’s name yesterday; that was probably why the crowd outside was mostly supportive today. She could try and push things even further, get them more on-side, get them to understand Debbie’s struggle. What had David Benson said? ‘Equality, Accessibility, Transparency’. Well she would focus on equality for now, which ought to start the influencers’ juices flowing.

  ‘Mr Isleworth, did many people know that Danny was intending to change gender?’

  ‘At the beginning, I doubt it. She tried to keep it quiet.’

  ‘The things you talked about, noticing changes in Debbie’s appearance, was that before or after she left West Ham?’

  ‘Now I think about it, it was probably only the hair before. We met up a few times afterwards, for a drink. She liked to hear news, how the lads were getting on, all the things we were planning. I think the stuff I noticed was probably then.’

  ‘Do you think it would have been possible for Debbie to stay on as manager, after her transition?’

  ‘She fell out with the boss, so…’

  ‘If they hadn’t fallen out?’

  ‘No, no way, I mean, we only have, what six, seven black managers in the whole of the football league. A woman? No chance. And a woman who used to be a man? She wouldn’t make it through the front door.’

  ‘What do you mean, a woman who used to be a man? Why is that so bad?’

  Ken stared at Judith, as if she had grown three heads.

  ‘It’s, well, I don’t know what you’d call it – a betrayal, isn’t it? I worked with Danny, I liked Danny. I know he didn’t suddenly lose all his skills, all those things we admired him for, just because he wore his hair in a ponytail, but even I couldn’t get my head around it. I mean, why, when you’re a man and a successful man, why give all that up and choose to be a woman? I’m sorry, I’m just telling it how I see it. And you have to remember, young men, who we work with, they’re interested in women because they find them attractive, they fancy them. So, to have someone who you thought was one of the lads, who you might talk to about all kind of lads’ stuff – about women, then move over to the other side. It was worse than, say, moving from Spurs to Arsenal.’