“Yet the fact is, if you did separate, Pete couldn’t afford to go on being Theo’s carer, could he?”

“We’ve never done the sums, because it’s not going to happen.”

The barrister looks down at his notes. “You travel a lot for work, is that correct?”

“I make television commercials. Mostly they’re filmed in this country. Four or five times a year, I have to go abroad. But never for more than a few days.”

“Have you had affairs during the time you’ve been with Pete?”

For a moment there’s a ringing in my ears and the room seems to shrink. “No.”

“So you’ve never slept with members of the film crew when you were away?”

I freeze. What should I say? Does he already know the answer? Is he trying to trap me in a lie? My mind’s whirring but I can’t decide which is the least bad option.

Anita says, “Madam, my client has already denied having affairs, so the question is redundant. And even if she had, it wouldn’t be relevant to the issue of whether or not she’s a good mother to Theo.”

“My point is that the respondents’ domestic situation is inherently far less stable than the applicants’ is, madam,” the Lamberts’ barrister says meekly.

“And you have made it,” the judge says wryly. “Shall we move on?”

After that, the expected attack on my drinking seems tame by comparison. When I eventually go back to my chair, my cheeks are burning. Pete passes me a note. That was outrageous. Well done.

* * *

—

   THERE’S A LONG BACK-AND-FORTH between the lawyers about the European Human Rights Act and whether the UN Convention on the Rights of the Child—“A child has the right to be cared for by his or her parents”—applies here. It’s a vital point, but I’m hardly listening. The barrister’s question is still spinning around in my head. Have you had affairs? How much do they actually know?

And most important, am I now going to have to tell Pete about my slipups before Miles does?

Eventually all the other evidence is heard, and Pete delivers a final statement on behalf of us both. Normally, Anita would do this, but we’ve decided that in this case it should be Pete. He’s Theo’s primary carer. He’s the one who needs to impress the judge.

He starts by describing how it felt, that day when Miles knocked on the door and blew our whole world apart with the news Theo wasn’t our son. He describes the efforts to compromise, the gradual realization that Miles would stop at nothing to get Theo back. In calm, measured language he describes the pain of having Theo taken away from us, and has to stop because he’s in tears. He describes how first the parenting classes, and then Harvey Taylor’s visit, have made him a better father to Theo—“So, if you do direct that he should continue to live with us, this whole horrible experience will still have been worthwhile. Because it will have been good for Theo. And in the end, that’s all that matters.” And finally, he looks directly at Lucy. “That offer still stands, by the way. Despite what you said earlier, despite everything that’s happened. We’d be happy to share them both between us. We would always have been happy to do that.”

“Thank you,” the judge says. “Unless anyone has any further points they wish to raise, I’m going to ask you all to step out while I consider what I’ve heard.”

99

   MADDIE

   “THANK YOU FOR YOUR patience. I am now ready to give my judgment.”

We waited in the crowded foyer for almost two hours—two agonizing hours that seemed to last an eternity. As the end of the day neared, other cases were reaching their conclusion, too—each courtroom spilling out into the foyer in two distinct groups, the elated and the despairing. Parents led away weeping by their lawyers, or punching the air in disinhibited delight.

Eventually the usher called us back and we took our places again. This is it, I think disbelievingly. This is really it. The moment seems both surreal and oddly mundane at the same time. I realize I’ve seen so many overwrought TV dramas in which judges bang gavels and lawyers shout “Objection!” that to have this calm, businesslike atmosphere, in which a judge is simply going to announce her decision as if she’s the chairperson at an under-attended board meeting, feels all wrong.

   Judge Wakefield looks at each of us in turn. “Thank you for coming here today and explaining what it is you want and why. Thank you, too, for allowing your evidence to be tested by the other side’s legal representatives. You may have found some of their questioning intrusive, but it has allowed me to form a fuller picture of the options before the court. As you have heard, there is a strong presumption in UK law that children are best brought up within their natural families. However, there is also a duty to place the interests of the child above all else, and that means giving due consideration to such issues as continuity of care and what impact the disruption of existing bonds might have.” She goes on to talk about something called the seven-point welfare checklist, and sums up the evidence briefly on each point. It’s still impossible to tell which way she’s leaning.

Then she pauses. “The right of the child to be brought up by his or her parents is another very important legal principle. We have heard differing views today on how that might apply to this situation. Having considered the matter carefully, I am going to accept Ms. Chowdry’s argument that the word parent, in this context, should apply not only to the child’s biological mother and father, but also to the individuals whom the child regards as his parents, and to whom he is bonded by a million small daily acts of parenting—in short, by the bonds of love. We have heard evidence from Mr. Taylor to the effect that Theo would be better equipped than most two-year-olds are to break those bonds. But we have also heard that he may find it harder than other children to regrow those bonds within a new family. For that reason, I believe both families have a roughly equal potential to provide him with a safe and nurturing home.”

Again she pauses. “As you may know, the family courts operate on what is called the no order principle. That is, I have to be certain that whatever new arrangements I direct will be better for the child than those that already exist. Although the present case is a highly unusual one that undoubtedly calls for some clear resolution by the court, the underlying principle remains the same. If Theo were to move families, I have to be absolutely certain that the change will be in his best interests. And since the evidence is in fact finely balanced, I have decided that the previous arrangements should be allowed to stand, and that he should continue to live with the people he considered to be his parents for the first two years of his life.”

   It takes a moment for her words to sink in, to understand that Theo’s coming home. Unbelievably, we’ve won. Pete reaches for my hand and squeezes it. I squeeze back. But the judge is still talking. “We cannot really have a situation in which Theo is living with the respondents but the applicants still have parental responsibility for him. It follows therefore that the previous order granting the applicants parental responsibility should be revoked, and a new order issued, granting parental responsibility to the respondents…”