Macca and his missus meet in court

Published on Monday 11 February 2008 21:37

SHE arrived for the multi-million-pound court showdown in a black Mercedes with darkly tinted windows. Heather Mills emerged with her entourage of seven, including her personal make-up artist.

The only thing she did not have was a lawyer.

In this court battle with her former husband, the musical legend Sir Paul McCartney, over her share of his 825 million fortune, Ms Mills is representing herself.

Unusually, she declined to say anything as she passed the press at London's High Court yesterday for the first day of the divorce hearing.

But her former publicist, Phil Hall, said yesterday Ms Mills was not doing it for the money.

"Money is not her motivation," he said.

"She's got Paul against her and public opinion has turned against her, but she's a real fighter."

Sir Paul arrived a few minutes after his former wife, smiling and looking relaxed. He at least managed a "good morning" before his blue pinstriped suit vanished out of sight into court 34.

With no sign of a settlement having been reached last night, the case – before Justice Hugh Bennett – will continue this morning and is scheduled to last five days.

The terms of any settlement will not become public record unless the case moves to the Court of Appeal, or either party reveals the details.

In the early afternoon, Sir Paul emerged accompanied by his solicitor, Fiona Shackleton. He declined to comment.

Ms Mills also stepped outside for a short break, but soon returned to the legal ring. In the early evening, they each left the court in silence.

There has been a torrent of speculation surrounding the figures involved in the divorce. With Sir Paul's wealth in the region of 825 million, even an underestimate would constitute a remarkable sum of money.

Some reports have suggested that Sir Paul has offered his estranged wife about 25 million, but that she is seeking at least double that amount.

"Current estimates suggest that Heather is likely to receive anything from 50 million to 100 million as her final settlement," said Suzanne Kingston, a family law expert. "The fact that this has been a short marriage will be taken into account and this could involve looking at the wealth that has been generated during the course of the marriage as distinct from premarital wealth," she added.

Ms Mills, 40, is representing herself in court, having disposed of her legal advisers. She will contest her case with Nicholas Mostyn, QC, a man with vast experience in family law.

She sacked her lawyers in November after a series of interviews in which she accused her husband of failing to protect her and their four-year-old daughter, Beatrice, from abuse, which she says ranged from lies and slander to death threats.

"We've had death threats, I've been close to suicide. I'm so upset about this," she said in an interview late last year.

"I've had worse press than a paedophile or a murderer, and I've done nothing but charity for 20 years."

SIR PAUL'S PAY-OUT WON'T BE TOP OF THE POPS

THE divorce of Sir Paul McCartney and Heather Mills could result one of the highest-ever settlements, with Forbes magazine predicting it could become the sixth most expensive celebrity divorce in Britain.

With a pay-out put by Forbes at an estimated 30 million, Sir Paul is lagging well behind US basketball star Michael Jordan and singer-songwriter Neil Diamond, with estimated 75.5 million settlements

After 22 years with rock star Mick Jagger, the Texan fashion model Jerry Hall walked away with an estimated pay-off from the Rolling Stone singer of between 7.5 million and 12.5 million. A decade earlier, Steven Spielberg's wife, Amy Irving, contested a prenuptial agreement with the film director and was granted a 50 million pay-out – roughly half of Spielberg's fortune at the time.

The Arsenal and England footballer Ray Parlour's wife, Karen, won a landmark divorce ruling in 2004 when she was awarded 1.8 million of his future earnings, after arguing she had played a vital role in shaping his career.

She went to the Court of Appeal to challenge a settlement that included 250,000 a year and two houses worth a total of 1 million.

It makes us feel better about our own lives

ALL that was missing was the popcorn. As Heather Mills swept into the High Court, past the paparazzi throng, in a neat grey suit, pink shirt and shiny blonde highlights, the nation perched on the edge of its seat, waiting to see what would happen next.

Like a good rom-com or a bad soap opera, the saga of the Mills-McCartney divorce has held us in its thrall since the couple – who had been married for less than four years – announced in May 2006 that they were to separate.

Why, though, are we so fascinated with this pair? After all, celebrities get divorced all the time (hello, Jennifer Lopez), many in far more dramatic circumstances (we're looking at you, Elizabeth Taylor).

But there's something about this relationship. Perhaps it's the 25-year age gap, or the pair's tragic pasts – McCartney the sad widower, Mills the brave amputee. We looked on, enthralled, when they got together, the blonde vixen and the ageing rocker seemingly headed towards May-to-December bliss.

Then came the dark accusations – of Mills's questionable past and her topless modelling, of McCartney's alleged penny-pinching antics, of the angry stepdaughter, Stella, who reportedly loathed Mills.

Reading up on the sniping from each camp, we wanted to pick sides, particularly when we heard how much money was involved. When Mills appeared on television last October ranting incoherently about her treatment in the press, it only made us want to lap up more.

Ultimately, marriages like the Mills-McCartney one are like our own relationships writ large. They have the same domestic problems, the same neuroses, whether it be an anxious second wife dealing with her husband's children, or an old man worried about being laughed at. There may be 825 million involved, the cameras may document their every move, but the rest is the same.

We watch what happens so avidly because it makes us feel better about our own lives. And that, alone, is worth the price of a bucket of popcorn.

EMMA COWING