‘And the south of France . . . Another expensive holiday destination.’

‘Very expensive,’ said Janet, essaying a smile. Christine remained stony faced.

‘Not so expensive, however, when you stay at your husband’s property in Sainte-Maxime.’

‘Well, no . . .’

‘And when the flights are paid for by your husband.’

‘No . . .’

‘But of course, if you divorce him, you will have to pay for all that sort of thing yourself, won’t you? Your holiday accommodation, your flights, your spending money. Not to mention clothes, meals, cars, even helicopters.’

‘Everything adds up . . .’

‘Certainly it does, Mrs Rivelli. We can see that these necessities of life could easily cost well over the two hundred thousand pounds a year that your husband is offering – not including the house that he’s giving you in Surrey, which I believe is an eight-bedroom property. And the the money he is putting trust for your son.’

‘You don’t know . . .’

‘And then, of course, there’s your art collection . . .’

It was very interesting, watching a divorce trial in process, even though Victoria watched it through a large pair of dark glasses, her hair concealed under one of Leanne’s large flat caps. It was a novelty to see Massimo acting the part of the humble, wronged husband, to see his lover – ‘That Bitch Christine’ as Victoria always thought of her – mincing around the court in her black gown and silk stockings. It was so tempting to stand up, whip off the disguise and scream ‘Tell ’em about your holiday in Scotland, Christine! Hey, Massimo! Remember snorting coke off the tits off a nubile twenty-year-old New Yorker?’ But she kept her powder dry. Victoria had other ways of hurting them. She had information – what Isabelle had told her would surely wound her mother – and she had evidence.

And it was extremely interesting to see, sitting on Janet’s side, that odious creep Gerry from Pennington and Blythe. She really would have to call him to discuss a small matter of a photograph. Adele would have his number.

She dismantled Janet piece by piece, and when she asked her for the umpteenth time why she believed that her husband was able to pay her more than he had originally offered, Janet simply hung her head. Joe Greenbaum asked the judge for an adjournment to advise his client, and the day’s work was over. Tomorrow, thought Christine, the case would collapse and Janet would agree to settle. Whether Rivelli kept the same offer on the table as before the trial was between him and his solicitors.

Christine was leaving the RCJ when she heard the click of heels on the marble floors behind her, and a female voice calling her name.

‘Christine.’