‘OK, I like nice things. But I’m good at saving.’
‘You do like nice things. I was admiring your earrings.’
‘Present from Luke,’ she said. ‘He’s really generous.’ That last bit at least was true.
She had picked them up in the shop at the Rijksmuseum in Amsterdam, their first weekend away together when they’d dragged themselves out of their sweaty hotel bed to look at some old masters. The earrings were copied from a Vermeer that Luke loved. He’d told her she looked like the model, so she’d tried them on. The assistant was totally dozy, and Natasha just walked out with them dangling from her delicate earlobes. She and Luke had a massive row, but she wasn’t about to take them back and Luke wasn’t about to report her to the Amsterdam police. After that she kept her shoplifting to herself.
Mel lowered her voice, ‘There’s something I want to ask you.’
It was coming, and Natasha had her answer ready.
‘What happened to my Attendance Note? You know, the day you called and said I hadn’t logged off the computer.’ Mel was looking at her intently now.
‘Oh Mel, I’m really sorry. I should have told you. I looked in the file like you said. I couldn’t find it anywhere. I tried both the drives. Maybe you didn’t save it? Or was it on a USB? I mean, you might have forgotten. You were in a bit of a state.’
‘The Attendance Note was there. I’m positive.’
‘Shit, I must have missed it.’
‘It’s not there now.’
‘What a bore. You must have deleted it by accident,’ said Natasha. ‘Though I suppose you’ve got the endorsed brief. I’ve got a full note. I can let you have that.’
‘That’s not the point. The clerks needed it. They keep a record of everything, time spent, results of the case. The solicitor expects to be given it immediately.’
Natasha wondered why Mel hadn’t rung her to check. Probably because she was so out of it. Mel was still talking.
‘You know what it’s like at the Bar. There’s not that much work to go around. Oh I know everyone looks busy. But that’s the way it is. Feast or famine. You’ll find out. Keeping the clerks sweet is crucial.’
‘I have been keeping the clerks sweet.’
‘So I’ve noticed,’ said Mel. The implication was clear and Natasha didn’t like it. It reminded her of her sister, the same envy tangled up in cruelty. ‘Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that,’ said Mel quickly.
‘That’s all right,’ said Natasha. But it wasn’t all right. The words could not be unsaid. The mood had changed in an instant.
‘So, about the Attendance Note, did you delete it?’
‘Of course not. Why would I do that? Like I said, I couldn’t find it. I assumed you must have handed it in or sent it over already.’ Natasha put on her best concerned voice. Unlike Mel, she could be nice when niceness was required. ‘I should have rung you again to let you know. Only I didn’t want to disturb you. What with the mugging and everything. I’m so sorry. Is there anything I can do?’
‘These things matter, Natasha. Getting a tenancy’s not just about being good on your feet. People need to know they can rely on you. I’m not sure if I can.’ There was no attempt to mend the breach she had forced between them. ‘Anyway, I must get back to my boy.’
Mel might make no effort, but Natasha would. ‘I’d love to meet him sometime,’ she said.
Mel looked surprised. Natasha felt she might have said the wrong thing.
‘Not very likely. He barely sees his own mum these days.’ And with that Mel gulped down the rest of her wine, stood up and picked up her bag. ‘Are you in court tomorrow?’ she asked.
‘Yes.’
‘Well, let me know when you’ve got a window and you can shadow your pupil supervisor.’
Natasha forced a smile and stood up. What did Mel expect? She should be glad her pupil was doing well. But it was clear she was only irritated by Natasha’s success. Before she could say goodbye Mel was out of the door.
After dinner that evening while Luke was watching The West Wing, Natasha went to the bedroom and switched on her laptop. She scrolled down her contacts till she found it, [email protected]. She typed.
Hi Paul, Remember me? I was on Politics and Law a few years ago. Guess what? I got a pupillage with your mate Melanie Goddard! How cool is that? Hope you’re OK. Thanks for all your help on the course. Maybe meet up sometime. Natasha x (Baker)
She was about to send it when she stopped. She’d leave it in Drafts. Wait for the right moment. In the meantime, there were other ways of getting back at Mel. She closed the page, opened Lola’s Facebook account and searched for Jacob Goddard. Nothing. Then she remembered Mel’s ex-husband, Claude Villiers. Mel and Jess had been chatting about him in chambers the other day. He was some big shot criminal silk.
She typed in Jacob Villiers. And there he was, floppy brown hair framing the face of an angel, only this time in a torn T-shirt, holding a pint of beer. She clicked on the name and tapped in a friend request from Lola Tondowski.
She went to join Luke to watch the rest of The West Wing. It was good to lie back on the sofa and feel the comfort of his arm around her shoulders. After the show she went back to the bedroom to organise her work for the morning. She clicked on her Facebook page. Just as she had hoped, her request had been accepted.
Part Two
June
Chapter Twelve
Mel
The city lay under a haze of heat. The streets were bright with white shirts, coloured dresses, pink and brown flesh. Lawyers were the exception. Some of Mel’s colleagues favoured short-sleeved black cotton shifts and sandals, but she hadn’t the nerve to appear in court in anything less formal than a jacket and skirt or trousers, complete with tights and high heels.
She’d been glad of her jacket that morning in the air-conditioned atmosphere of the Principal Registry. But as she emerged into the dazzling light, heading down Chancery Lane towards Fleet Street, the afternoon sun bore down on her.
Her head was filled with thoughts of Jacob. His exams would soon be over. Was today his last? She couldn’t remember. The timetable was stuck on the kitchen notice board, but she’d forgotten to check this morning. She worried about what he would do over the long summer break. Claude would take him away with Jo and the kids for a couple of weeks in July or August. But for the rest of the time he’d be lolling about in his room, playing computer games. He’d mentioned temporary work at a music festival. Some of his mates were going. But Mel had told him he was too young to spend weeks on his own camping in a field full of twenty-year-olds high on drugs. He’d glared and said nothing. For days they’d barely spoken. Mel thought of past holidays, she and Jacob, clinging together, screeching in delight as they whizzed down the water slide at Center Parcs. She couldn’t imagine going away with him now. What would they talk about?
Before crossing the main road, she glanced at her watch. One o’clock. When had she last taken a proper lunch break? Her head was still buzzing with thoughts of her son as she queued for a sandwich and bottle of water at Pret. Minutes later she was heading for Inner Temple Garden.