This surreal world

Were it up to me, I'd attend court on a Monday. This time around, however, I was called in on a Friday. So it was off to Valletta, and then off to the courts. Magistrate Francesco Depasquale's hall is constantly changing, and once again I had to ask where his courtroom was. It was Hall 2.

Walking to Hall 2 and through the narrow corridor, I could not help noticing Lawrence Gonzi seated, talking to an attentive George Hyzler. 

The corridor is so narrow, no wider than the corridor of a badly designed Bugibba flatlet. Both men ignored me. I do not blame Gonzi. 

Hyzler would have nodded were he not in the presence of Lawrence, but then what the heck. Such is life.

Entering the courtroom was like walking on to the set of Star Trek. George Farrugia, who had been given a presidential pardon by Lawrence Gonzi, was just leaving the courtroom. 

Walking nervously up and down and joking with a jovial (PN secretary-general) Paul Borg Olivier, I could not miss Austin Gatt. I get the impression that he's laughing all the time. I suppose you could call it denial. 

When it became obvious - in the Naxxar counting hall, back in March - that the PN loss would be around 35,000, Gatt was also laughing. I guess it would be safe to refer to this as nervous laughter.

Crouched in a corner was Natalino Fenech, the former head of news at PBS and a man known for his litigious streak. He, too, has a grin on his face. I guess he's happy for us, since we're all happy he's finally gone.

At the back row, GRTU chief Vince Farrugia was fiddling with his mobile pouch, pondering on - I suppose - what an ass he had made of himself with all those silly SMSes. Up in front, his son Karl - a lawyer - was pretending to be all serious in his pinstriped suit.

In the second row sat Home Affairs and Justice Minister Manuel Mallia, chewing away at a piece of gum and watching and listening attentively. His aide typed away on a laptop, noting all the depositions being made.

Next to him, Times journalist Ivan Camilleri tilted his head to one side and looked on, not looking particularly busy. In the last election, Camilleri chose not to vote and reportedly destroyed his vote in front of all his colleagues in the Times newsroom. When he noticed his chief editor Steve Mallia, he stood up and appeared to engage in a discussion about a seemingly sore point with him.

Camilleri - surprisingly enough - also appeared to keep his distance from Richard Cachia Caruana, who was seated at the edge of the bench. And I'm seated between Cachia Caruana and Felix Agius. 

Agius, a former editor of Il-Kullhadd, is facing a criminal libel case instituted by Cachia Caruana some 11 years earlier.

Standing by the Magistrate, a posse of lawyers hung on to the wobbly wooden partitions and waited for their case. Then, one of the star witnesses of the day appears. Mrs Agnes Farrugia as led by Tonio Fenech's lawyer (also present in the court room) Ian Spiteri Bailey, to explain what she knew about the infamous artisanal clock - 'arloġġ tal-lira'.

Spiteri Bailey would soon dread the moment he had thought of asking for her testimony.

Mrs Farrugia suggests that she admires no one other than her husband and her children. It proves to be enough to enliven the band of lawyers around Edward Gatt - a laugh went off at one time, PL lawyers (also MP) Chris Cardona, Paul Lia and so many others just let out a quick snigger... much to the exasperation of PN lawyers Zammit Maempel and Victor Scerri.

Franco Debono suddenly appears. He looks smug. In a crowded courtroom, which is already proving difficult to move around in - or even to find a seat - let alone stand, Debono purposely moves to the corner where Austin Gatt is standing and makes it abundantly clear that he is not afraid of standing next to his sworn enemy. He looks around with a pointless smile on his face.   

Then the smiling suddenly disappears.

Mrs Farrugia's husband Ray takes the stand and talks.

He slips up several times, and reveals two interesting anecdotes.

The first slip refers to his visit to minister Tonio Fenech with a gift: "It was good for business, and the Maltese clocks were funded and paid for by Powerplan" - the oil traders' firm.

Everyone listens attentively.

He also adds that he took his brother George with him to gift the clock to Fenech because it made sense for business.

Edward Gatt is appearing as lawyer for Minister Chris Cardona. He is sharp. He may not look it, but he is. He reminds Ray Farrugia that he is under oath and he presses him to confirm what he has just said. Farrugia's lawyer David Farrugia Sacco, a former PL candidate, looks concerned.

I'm confused.

It doesn't seem to be going very well for former minister Tonio Fenech but Lawrence Gonzi, who has now entered the courtroom, seems to be unperturbed. 

I look around to see if anyone will offer him a seat. Cachia Caruana could easily stand up and offer him a seat, instead he just looks on.

Gonzi looks sullen and disoriented. He chats with former Labour minister Joe Brincat, but when the conversation stops he seems to be even more lost.

Paul Borg Olivier continues to snigger, occasionally rubbing his bulging belly.

Farrugia's testimony serves to detonate more bombshells. Nervous chuckles erupt across the courtroom. Journalists sitting in a corner hardly have time to look up - they simply type away on their iPads and laptops.

Tonio Fenech seems to be the only former Nationalist Party minister who is not laughing.

The case is adjourned to October.

In another libel case, a man is accused of defaming former minister Francis Zammit Dimech on Facebook. The man - a 65 year-old renowned for his passion for animals - declares meekly that he is sorry. An apology proves to be enough - the case is closed, but not before the man is scolded by the magistrate and warned not to repeat any more such comments on Facebook.

Zammit Dimech leaves and tells me bye as he walks past Cachia Caruana and me.

The Magistrate is running late. Lawrence Gonzi asks what is happening to the case (he is a witness). He appears impatient, in a hurry to get it all over with. I do not blame him. I would do the same. After such a long time in politics - and after such an anti-climax - I wouldn't think twice about closing the door behind me.

The only problem is that when I do it myself - and in my case, I would still have to pay for my mess - when it comes to politicians, they leave it up to others to clean up their mess and foot their bills.