Court Out - By Elle Wynne Page 0,47

top.”

“Was the back door locked when you went out?”

“Yes. I opened it and walked the short distance to the pool. As I got closer I realised that it was black fabric, not plastic so I grabbed the net we used to scoop off the leaves. She, she was really heavy, it took me a while before I could bring her to the shallow end and get her onto the side.”

“What was Mrs Hobbs wearing?”

“A long black winter coat over a pair of dark jeans and a black jumper.”

“What about on her feet?”

“Boots. I think they were black,” she says.

“Was that what you considered her usual attire?” he questions.

She gives a sorrowful laugh.

“No, far from it. Marina’s dress sense was usually a bit, well, out there”

Corr pauses.

“Members of the jury, could you please turn to the fourth tab in the first exhibit bundle please? This should begin at page 16.”

Everyone in court flips open the folder and finds the relevant page. I’m familiar with the photographs that greet the court; various cuttings from lifestyle magazines of Marina, showing her dressed in outfits that would give Jodie Marsh a run for her money. One cutting shows Marina on an outing to Tesco wearing a creation that would be better suited to Strictly Come Dancing, her face alight, clearly delighting in the press attention that her outlandish ensemble would surely generate.

A photograph from her 30th birthday shows her dancing on the table of a bar wearing a frontless, backless mini dress in lime green that clashes horribly with her orange skin. Her long blonde extensions completed the look. I remember when this picture was in the press at the time, Serena and I spent ages bitching about her. Looking at Marina’s happy, open face I now feel terribly guilty that I judged her based on her fashion choices.

“Is that the type of outfit that you would normally see your employer in?”

“Yes. Mrs Hobbs loved her clothes, she always said she dressed to make herself smile.”

God, now I feel even worse.

“So what happened next?” Corr asks.

“I started to scream when I realised it was Mrs Hobbs. I tried to wake her up, but it was too late. I could see that her face was all purple and bloated so I called the ambulance and they got there pretty much straight away.”

Miss Drew is sobbing now, the trauma of repeating her version for the third time in court is evident.

“Some clothes were missing from her wardrobe. Did you find them?”

“Yes, there were two suitcases outside by the bins. They were in there.”

“What about any newspapers from the previous day?”

“No, I normally used to put any papers out to be recycled, they get them delivered you see, but I couldn’t find the one from the day before.”

Corr smiles at her.

“Thank you. If you wait there, there’ll be some more questions for you.”

Corr takes his seat and Quinn stands up. He straightens his gown and launches into his cross-examination.

“Hello again Miss Drew. As you well know I’m just going to ask you a few questions on behalf of Mr. Hobbs.”

She nods, looking slightly wary.

“When you arrived at the house, you saw no signs that Mr. Hobbs had been there that morning did you? His car wasn’t there and you didn’t see his keys or mobile on the counter did you?”

“No, I didn’t” she agrees

“You didn’t see Mr. Hobbs at all that morning did you?”

“No. After the police arrived I was taken to the station.”

Quinn pauses. “When you got there, were there any messages on the home answer phone?”

“Yes. One was from Mr. Hobbs saying that he was staying over with a friend and not to expect him back.”

“The jury will hear that tape later on, but you agree that the message was of an affectionate nature?

“I suppose so, yes,” she answers.

“And there were some other messages weren’t there?”

“Yes, two. But I don’t know who they were from, they were all muffled”

The questioning continues and I type a note of what is being said. Quinn is delicately laying the foundation of their defence whilst attempting to maintain a jovial tone.

“You’ve already told us that when you arrived at the property, the front door was unlocked. That was unusual wasn’t it?”

“Yes, it was normally locked,” she agrees

“And to put it bluntly, a lot of rooms looked like a bomb site before you tidied up?”

“Yes, but that wasn’t out of the ordinary.”

“How so?” he queries.

“Neither Mr. or Mrs Hobbs were very, well, tidy. Marina used to rely on me to