Tom wasn’t worrying about the children but about the hearing, but he didn’t tell her that. His stomach was churning when he got up and he couldn’t face breakfast. He didn’t know what he’d do if they granted custody to Gail.

The lawyer joined them at the airport, the flight was smooth and another big black limo was waiting for them in Manchester.

Gail was already in the waiting room, ready for the hearing. She was well turned out, for once, and was flanked by his mother, the pastor and someone who looked like a lawyer. She stood up and would have rushed across to him, but Tom stepped back instinctively. He didn’t want her touching him.

Elliott pulled her back and said something to her. She subsided with a huff of anger, scowling at Tom.

As he’d feared, Gail was on her best behaviour, playing the upset mother and sobbing delicately into a handkerchief. He’d bet there weren’t really any tears. She admitted that she’d been drinking but insisted she wasn’t doing so now. Losing her children had taught her a hard lesson.

Tom answered the questions truthfully, guided by his lawyer, and then Jane took the stand. For a moment, Gail’s face contorted with anger and the look she gave their neighbour would have curdled milk.

Jane radiated common sense and decency as she answered the questions, revealing that she’d had to help out regularly because she’d found Gail drunk or because the children were being neglected.

‘Is there anyone else who can bear this out?’

Tom looked at his mother. She tried to avoid his eyes, wriggling uncomfortably in her seat. Tom whispered to his lawyer.

‘Mrs Prichard, I wonder if you’ve ever seen your daughter-in-law drunk?’

Mary hesitated, then nodded.

‘Please speak more loudly. Have you seen her drunk and how often?’

‘Yes, I have. Several times.’

‘When was the most recent one?’

‘A few days ago.’

It was her testimony that set the seal on the decision. When it was announced that Tom would be given custody, Gail stood up.

‘Please sit down, Mrs Prichard.’

‘No, I won’t. Call this justice? I don’t even know where my children are!’ she yelled. ‘He’s not even given me their address in London. That’s not fair.’

The judge wrote something down and looked across at Tom’s lawyer. ‘Please make sure Mrs Prichard has the address of her children.’

‘Yes, your honour.’

‘Now kindly sit down, Mrs Prichard.’

Her lawyer tugged at her arm but she shook him off. Forgetting her upset-mother act completely, she began shouting abuse at Tom, using language that made his mother blush scarlet. Gail shoved the lawyer away so roughly when he tried to make her sit down that she knocked him off his chair. She then lunged across the room towards Tom, hands outstretched, fingers curled into claws as if ready to strike.

Elliott ran to grab her and her lawyer scrambled to his feet to help him, but they had to drag her out of the room forcibly. She fought and shrieked the whole way.