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“And are there any other times that you have been aware of Mrs Gibson?” he asked.
“Yes, very recently Mrs Gibson has been sending me gifts, notes, and flowers. When I started my recent tour, she got into my hotel room and left things on the bed for me.” I squeezed my hands together trying to get them to stop trembling.
“Was she authorised to be in your hotel room?” Advocate McAdams asked.
“No, Sir.”
“What was it that she left in the room?”
“There was a note, flowers, chocolates, and a bottle of champagne. There was also a card, and a framed photo of the time I met her at the date she won.”
“Sounds like the kind of gift one might leave for someone you’re in a relationship with. Were you ever in a relationship with Mrs Gibson?”
“No,” I answered, shaking my head.
“You mentioned that she left you some champagne.”
“Yes,” I confirmed, my mouth starting to get dry.
“The gift of champagne for a recovering alcoholic?”
“Objection, My Lord. Was that a question, or a statement from Advocate McAdams?” Natasha’s solicitor interjected. The judge agreed and asked Advocate McAdams to stick to asking questions.
“Apologies, My Lord, I will rephrase,” McAdams replied. “Mr Love, are you a recovering alcoholic?”
“I am,” I admitted.
“Is your struggle with that particular addiction well known?” he asked.
“It was covered widely in the press at the time and was one of the reasons I left the band that I was in. I would imagine it was pretty well known.” My palms got sticky with sweat as I rubbed them together.
“So, as someone with a keen interest in your life and well being, Mrs Gibson would be well aware of your issues and subsequent recovery?” he suggested.
“I would assume so. It was front page news for a while,” I pointed out.
“And as someone who is a recovering alcoholic, would you expect someone that professed to love you and care about you to leave you the gift of a bottle of alcoholic beverage?”
“No, Sir, I would not. It would be the opposite of what I would expect of someone in that situation,” I agreed, licking my lips trying to get some moisture back in my mouth.
“And what did you do when you discovered that the defendant had been in your hotel room?”
“I called the owners of my record label,” I answered.
“Not the police?” McAdams countered.
I shook my head. “I guess I was in shock. I honestly didn’t know what to do about it, but on top of the other things that I had received from Mrs Gibson, I was worried that this was getting worse and wanted their advice on the best thing to do about it.”
“And what did they suggest?”
Again, Natasha’s Advocate interrupted with an objection, saying it was hearsay, which the Judge agreed with.
“Apologies again, My Lord. What happened after you called the owners of the record label?” he corrected.
“I went to the manager’s room and the police were contacted.”
“Did you call the police?”
“No, Alex and Johnny – the owners of the label,” I corrected, “they did that.”
