If I honestly thought that cocaine had the power to gift me as much quick-wittedness and high courage as Nigella Lawson exuded in court this week, I’d have taken it myself whenever I had the opportunity. Of course, I often did have the opportunity, working on glossy magazines, in London offices. There was always someone on the art desk who’d come in whey-faced and dead tired of a morning and not get a grip on tasks until he’d nipped out “for a coffee”, after which he’d cheer up like billy-o.
The bold brilliance Nigella displayed is astonishing even to read in a newspaper; it must have clanged in court like a peal of Stedman Caters on cathedral bells. She tells Karin Arden, defending one of the Grillo sisters, that she, Nigella, is not the one who is on trial here, but a witness for the Crown. Also, referring to her own voluptuousness, “You know as well as I do that regular cocaine users don’t look like this.”