Sarah Colman woke and turned to look at the clock by her bed. Twenty past eight. Maybe she should have set the alarm. Today was her first day as David Liphook’s pupil and technically she should show up at 5 Caper Court for nine o’clock. Still … She yawned and stretched like a cat. David wouldn’t mind if she was a little late. A ‘Tim Nice-But-Dim’ sort if ever she had seen one. Maybe not so dim, of course, but probably fairly easy to handle. She smiled to herself. The money wasn’t bad, either. On top of Daddy’s allowance, it made life even more comfortable. She only hoped David wouldn’t work her too hard. That was the trouble with being a pupil at a place like 5 Caper Court. It was such a shit-hot set that everybody supposed you must be brimming with ambition and zeal. Sarah wasn’t sure about any of that.
She swung herself out of bed and slipped on the robe lying on the end of her bed. Pulling back the curtains, she gazed out at the blue sky. It was going to be another warm day. She picked up a hairbrush from her dressing table and sauntered through to the kitchen, where her flat mate, Lou, was already dressed and making coffee.
She glanced up at Sarah. ‘Morning. Cup of coffee?’
‘If there’s one going,’ said Sarah, and sat down at the kitchen table, yawning again.
Lou poured out the coffee, paused to tie back her dark hair, then brought the mugs over to the table. ‘Aren’t you going to be rather late, if you don’t get going? It is your first day.’
Sarah flicked idly through the pages of the Guardian. ‘Yes, I will be, I suppose. I’m sure nobody’s much going to mind.’
‘I don’t know how you get away with it,’ murmured Lou, and sat down opposite Sarah.
Sarah smiled up at her. ‘Practice. Instinct. Charm. Anyway, you can talk. I thought you had a presentation this morning?’
‘It’s not till ten. I’ve ordered a cab for half nine.’
‘Good. I’ll share it with you.’
‘That means you won’t get to chambers till nearly ten! That’s pushing it a bit, Sarah, even for you.’
‘Lou, the Bar is a more relaxed place than the world of corporate finance. You lot may have to grind away from seven till seven most days, but we barristers don’t. At least, I don’t intend to. I’m starting as I mean to go on.’ Sarah took a sip of her coffee, picked up her hairbrush, then sat back and began brushing her blonde hair with lazy, even strokes, ‘Besides, it’s not as though I’m some trembling novice who hasn’t any idea of what she’s doing. I know half the people there. Some quite intimately, I might add.’ She smiled.
‘Really, what does that mean?’ enquired Lou, avid for any kind of confidence or piece of gossip.
‘Well, let’s see … there’s Anthony, for one. Anthony Cross. He and I had a bit of a thing for a while. But that was when I was living on my own. I don’t think you met him.’ Sarah brushed a fine curtain of hair across her eyes and fingered it. ‘Very much your type, though. Tall, dark, very sexy. A bit buttoned-up. You go for the anally retentive City type, don’t you?’
‘Thanks,’ said Lou.
‘Well, you know - a bit of pinstripe really turns you on, doesn’t it?’ Sarah laughed.
‘Does nothing for me.’
‘Why did you go out with him, then?’
‘Oh, I thought there might be more to him. But he turned out to be just another boring barrister.’
‘So you dumped him?’
Sarah paused in her brushing and her eyes darkened momentarily. She didn’t like to recall the humiliation she had received at Anthony’s hands. Nor the fact that he had then taken up with that drip Camilla shortly thereafter. ‘It was more a mutual thing. We agreed to call it a day.’
Lou sipped her coffee. ‘So – who else?’
‘Well, my pupilmaster, obviously. David Liphook. And there’s a man called William something - I’ve met him a few times socially, and he was on the pupillage committee. Bit of a cold fish. Oh, and there’s a girl there that I was at Oxford with. Camilla Lawrence. Very brainy. Boringly so. She used to be quite pink-faced and eager when she was at LMH, but she seems to have calmed down a bit since then. And then—’ Sarah parted her lips and gave a little sigh ‘and then there’s Leo Davies.’ She looked away, musing, flicking her hair back over her shoulder with one hand.
‘Leo Davies … I know that name,’ said Lou, frowning. ‘Isn’t he the chap who’s doing the big fraud case at the moment?’
‘Very possibly,’ said Sarah. ‘I don’t pay too much attention to the law unless I really have to.’
‘There was a piece about him in the Standard last night. And a picture. Very attractive, even for forty-something.’ She gazed curiously at Sarah. ‘So, what’s the story there?’
‘Darling, it might not be entirely discreet of me to tell you, not if he’s becoming such a prominent figure.’
‘Oh, come on! Don’t be so tantalising. Tell me. You know I’m—’
‘Yes, the very soul of discretion.’ Sarah laughed and put down her hairbrush. She leant her chin on her hands. ‘We go back a few years, actually. I met him through friends at a party. I’d just come down from Oxford and was stuck for something to do. And somewhere to live. Daddy wasn’t quite as generous in those days, and I didn’t really fancy spending all summer living with my parents. So, when Leo mentioned that he had a job going, I volunteered.’
‘A job? What kind of job?’ asked Lou, intrigued.
Sarah arched her eyebrows. ‘Oh - he had a house in Oxfordshire, and he said he needed a housekeeper. You know, someone to look after the place, cook when he came down at weekends with his friends. Leo had lots of friends …’ There was a silence. Sarah traced the rim of her coffee cup with one finger. ‘And there was one special friend. A young man, staying in the house.’
‘Mmm. Sort of. Though that implies some sort of sentimental attachment, and there certainly wasn’t any of that. A very dirty little boy indeed was James. Quite pretty, too, before he became a junkie. Anyway, Leo had installed him there and I don’t think he entirely trusted him. So he put me in charge.’
‘So … he paid you to look after the house and keep an eye on his boyfriend?’
Sarah smiled. ‘There were other duties of a rather more personal nature, of course, but I regarded those more as pleasure than business.’ She sipped her coffee. ‘Certain things I would happily have done free - for Leo.’
‘I think’, Lou said slowly, ‘that I get the picture.’
‘It was a wonderful summer,’ said Sarah with a sigh. ‘But all good things come to an end. Leo realised if anyone found out about it that it wouldn’t do his image much good - he was applying for silk at that time - and we parted amicably. So you see, I think of most of the people in chambers as friends already.’
Lou got up and took her mug to the sink. ‘Frankly, I think I’d prefer to be starting somewhere where nobody knew anything about me. Especially not my lurid past. Too much baggage, if you ask me.’
Sarah stretched luxuriantly, letting the loose sleeves of her robe slip down her bare arms. ‘That depends on whether you’re prepared to turn it all to your own advantage, darling. Now, I must go and have my shower, so that I’m ready in time for your taxi.’
While Sarah was making her leisurely way into chambers for her first day as a pupil, work was already well under way at 5 Caper Court.
As Leo came into the clerks’ room to pick up his mail before going over to court, David Liphook accosted him. ‘Leo, you know that award that was handed down last month against those Greek scrap metal merchants?’
‘That Vourlides lot? I know them well.’
‘Well, Bill Tate has just rung to say that they’re contesting the arbitrators’ award on the grounds that the arbitrators misconducted themselves and that Ken Lightman was guilty of bias. Can you believe it?’
Leo grinned. ‘That bunch will try anything. They once tried to have me removed from a case on the grounds that I was in the pay of the Turkish government.’ He glanced at the two sizeable piles of documents and books ranged next to David. ‘Where are you off to with that lot?’
‘I’ve got an arbitration. Which is why I suggested to my new pupil that today might be a good day to start her pupillage. Thought it would be interesting for her to see something through from scratch. And useful to me. Not,’ he added, glancing at his watch, ‘that it’s going to be particularly useful unless she shows up in the next ten minutes. I’m going to be hauling this lot in and out of taxis myself, at this rate.’
‘Ah, yes - your new pupil. Sir Vivian Colman’s daughter, if I’m not much mistaken?’
‘That’s right. Do you know her?’
Leo hesitated. ‘I’ve met her a few times. I think you’ll find most people have.’ He could hardly tell David just exactly how well he knew Sarah, or just how much havoc her exasperating behaviour had wrought in his life. ‘Yes, Felicity?’ Leo glanced over at Felicity, the junior clerk, who was waggling her hand to attract his attention.
‘Sorry to interrupt, Mr Davies. It’s Fred Fenton for you. Says he needs a quick word.’
‘All right. Put him through to the waiting room. I’ll take it there.’
Felicity came over to where David stood drumming his fingers. ‘You look like a man who’s been stood up, Mr Liphook,’ said Felicity, leaning her elbows on the counter and making even more of her already ample cleavage. She was a pretty, bubbly type, an East Ender with a sharp wit who had been a clerk for only a year. Under Henry’s tutelage, she was developing into a thorough professional, with a naturally maternal care for the interests of the barristers in chambers.
‘I don’t much care for being kept waiting around by my pupil, to be honest. I’d heard that having one can be more trouble than it’s worth. Still, at the time, taking her on seemed like a good idea.’
‘What’s she like, then?’ asked Felicity. ‘Be nice to have a few more women around here.’
David shrugged. ‘Very pleasant.’
‘Nice looking?’
‘Oh, definitely.’
Felicity sighed. ‘I thought she might be.’ She nodded towards the window. ‘There’s your cab. What do you want me to do with this Miss Colman when she gets here? Send her on?’
‘No. Yes.’ David glanced at his watch again. ‘Yes. She should be able to find MFB under her own steam - just give her the address. It’s a bloody nuisance. I was relying on someone to help with all this.’ David began to pick up bundles and stuff them under one arm.
‘Ta-ta,’ said Felicity.
Leo reappeared from the waiting room just as Cameron Renshaw lumbered downstairs.
‘Leo, can you do something for me?’ asked Cameron.
‘Depends what it is,’ said Leo. ‘I’m due in court in ten minutes.’
‘Just a minute of your time. The thing is, I’ve got those people from the Lincoln’s Inn Estates Committee coming over late today about the new chambers we’ve been looking at. The ones in New Square.’
‘Oh. Yes,’ said Leo flatly. He wasn’t exactly keen on this idea of moving out of Caper Court to larger premises.
‘Well, I don’t want to put them off, but I need to see my doctor, and it turns out that the only time he can fit me in is around half four this afternoon. After that he’s off to some golfing holiday in Portugal and won’t be back for three weeks.’ Cameron dropped his voice. ‘Between you and me, I don’t think I can wait three weeks. I’ve been having these stomach pains all summer. I’m frankly not feeling quite the thing. I haven’t been able to keep anything down for two days, and I really think I have to do something about it.’
‘God, I’m sorry to hear that,’ said Leo. Come to think of it, he did think old Cameron had been looking a bit yellow round the gills the past few days. And was it his imagination, or hadn’t he lost a bit of weight? With a fellow of Cameron’s size, it was hard to tell, but he certainly didn’t seem his old Falstaffian self.
‘So I wondered if you’d mind seeing these people for me.’
‘Yes, of course I will. What time are they coming?’
‘Around five.’
‘Fine. I’ll be back well before then. Anyway, I’d better dash.’
Leo hurried out of the door and collided with Sarah as she was coming up the steps.
‘Morning, Leo,’ said Sarah. ‘Shouldn’t run at your age, you know. Not dignified.’
Leo sighed. Exasperating as he found her, he couldn’t help thinking how pretty and professional she looked in her immaculately cut black suit and white, silk blouse, her blonde hair neatly tied back. The very picture of a demure young barrister. If only the world knew the true Sarah. ‘Thank you for that piece of advice. Now let me give you one. It’s not a good idea to keep your pupilmaster hanging about on your very first day. It creates a bad impression. And in your case, impression is everything. Don’t get the idea that dear David is a soft touch. He may seem that way, but when it comes to business, he’s all business. Goodbye.’
‘See you later.’ Sarah turned, smiling, as Leo hurried down the steps. ‘Isn’t it nice that we’re going to be seeing so much of one another from now on?’
‘Bliss,’ murmured Leo as he strode up Middle Temple Lane.
Felicity looked up from her desk as Sarah came into the reception area. ‘Can I help you?’ she asked.
‘I’m Sarah Colman. Mr Liphook’s pupil. I’m starting today.’
‘Oh, yes! Hello - I’m Felicity. I’m the junior clerk.’ They shook hands, appraising one another. ‘I’m afraid Mr Liphook’s left. He’s got an arbitration today. I think he was expecting you a bit earlier.’
Sarah did her best to look anxious and contrite. ‘I know. I feel dreadful about being so late. The trains were all over the place.’
‘Oh, well, not to worry. I’m sure you couldn’t help it.’ Sarah’s expression flickered slightly at this. She didn’t much like the mumsy, patronising tone. Nor the implied criticism. A junior clerk was only a jumped-up office girl, after all. One with appalling taste in clothes at that. Low-cut jumpers and short skirts were pretty vulgar, even if you did have the figure for them. Still, since she was playing the part of the anxious-to-please pupil, she’d better keep up the front.
‘No. It would happen on my first day, of all days, though.’
‘Well, he’s only just left. If you set off now, you’ll probably get there before they start. It’s at the arbitration centre at More Fisher Brown, near Spitalfields. You can get a bus on Fleet Street to take you up to Liverpool Street. I’ll write down the address.’ She scribbled it down.
‘Thanks,’ said Sarah, taking the piece of paper from Felicity. ‘I only hope I’m not too late.’
She hurried out into the warm September sunshine, then dropped her pace to a saunter once she was out of Caper Court. A boring old arbitration was the last thing she felt like doing. She’d have preferred to sit and drink coffee in David’s room and read a newspaper, or skive off to Middle Temple Common Room. Still, one had to show willing. As for a bus, sod that. She’d take a taxi.
Sarah arrived at the arbitration with minutes to spare and managed to fake a breathless apology to David.
‘Don’t worry,’ said David, who had promised himself earlier in the taxi that he would take a stern, frosty line with her, but now found himself unable to in the face of her exceptional prettiness and charm. She had certainly caught the attention, too, of the other men seated round the large oval table. Sarah realised she was the only woman present, and at this her confidence lifted. ‘Here,’ said David in an undertone, passing her a pristine counsel’s notebook. ‘Just take notes and try to keep up with what’s going on. I was going to explain the case to you beforehand, but I’m afraid we haven’t got time.’
At that moment the arbitrator glanced across at David. ‘I think we’re all ready now, Mr Liphook.’
‘Thank you.’ David stood up. ‘Good morning. In this case I appear for the plaintiffs, and my learned friend, Mr Gilmore, for the defendants. The matters in dispute arise from the issue in Hamburg of two bills of lading dated 18 April and 23 June 1997 for the carriage of containers of sugar from Hamburg and Bremerhaven to Dubai and Mina Qaboos …’
Sarah started diligently to note down the main points as David spoke, then after fifteen minutes she began to wonder why she was bothering. This was his case, after all, so he must know what was going on. Why should she go to the trouble of noting down what he was saying? There might be some point if the other side’s barrister were talking, but this was just a waste of time. She put down her pen and yawned, then glanced idly at each man seated round the table, trying to assess if there was anything particularly attractive about any of them. Deciding there was not, she picked up her pen again and doodled covertly until tea was brought in. She ate four digestive biscuits and drank her tea, then sat, restless and bored, until lunch time.
‘Well, are you managing to follow what’s going on?’ asked David, when they broke for lunch.
Sarah gave a thin smile. ‘Sort of. How long do you think it will last?’
‘We should be finished by the end of the day.’ He riffled quickly through his papers. ‘Look, I wonder if you could do something over lunch for me. Beddoes and I - that’s our solicitor, by the way, Paul Beddoes.’ David glanced round. ‘Oh, he’s talking at the moment. I’ll introduce you later. Anyway, we have to have a meeting over lunch with the client. We need to get these documents copied. They’re communications between the master and the shore that didn’t reach us till this morning, so none of the arbitrators has copies. I’ll need - let me see … six copies. Can you manage that?’
‘Sure,’ said Sarah. David handed her the documents. ‘Where can I get it done?’
‘Ask down at reception. There’ll be a photocopier somewhere.’ David glanced at his watch. ‘See you back here at two.’
Sarah left the arbitration room and eventually found a photocopier in the lobby. She stood drumming her fingernails as the machine ate and fed, ate and fed the slim stack of papers.
‘Sarah - hello! What are you doing here?’
Sarah turned. A tall, chubby man with wavy brown hair and a suit in the very broadest chalk-stripe stood grinning at her.
‘Oh, hello, Teddy,’ said Sarah. ‘I’m having fun - what d’you think?’ The photocopier chugged out the last sheaves of paper and Sarah stacked them all neatly together. ‘Actually, I’m on the first day of my pupillage and already I’m being treated like slave labour.’ Teddy was a solicitor, someone she had run into on regular occasions on her social circuit.
‘Come and have lunch with me, then. I’ve just put in three hours of honest graft, and could do with something.’
‘All right,’ said Sarah! ‘Anything’s better than hanging around here.’ She picked up the bundles of documents and they left.
‘Oh, Teddy, not another,’ said Sarah, as Teddy returned from the bar with two large glasses of white wine. Before them lay the remnants of a plate of avocado and-bacon sandwiches. The wine bar was thronged with City lunchers. ‘In fact, I shouldn’t have had that first one. I’ll fall asleep this afternoon. Honestly, arbitrations are so boring. At least, this one is.’ She took a quick sip of the second glass and glanced at Teddy’s watch. ‘Is that the time? I’ll have to go. I’m meant to be back at two and it’s five to already. Listen, it’s been lovely. I’ll buy you lunch in return some time. You finish my wine. Bye.’ Sarah, slightly pink from the wine, kissed Teddy quickly on both cheeks and left.
With a sigh, Teddy sat down and scoffed the remaining sandwiches, finished his wine and flipped through his copy of The Times. It was only when he got up to go that he noticed the neat stack of documents, lying where Sarah had left them.
The arbitration was reconvening just as Sarah got back. She slipped breathlessly into her seat and quickly retied her hair, which had come loose. The atmosphere, in contrast to the conviviality of the wine bar, was sombre and businesslike, the only sounds the rustle of paper and the mild hum of serious, muted conversation as everyone prepared to resume.
David came into the room and gave her a quick smile. ‘Did you manage to get those documents done?’ he asked, as he sat down next to her.
Recollection hit her like a shock. ‘Oh, shit,’ she said, and put her hand to her mouth. The word rang in the air with unexpected clarity. Heads lifted, conversation ceased. David stared at her.
‘I’ll be back in a minute,’ she muttered and fled from the room. There was a surprised silence and the eyes of all the men in the room turned to David.
‘Are we ready to recommence, Mr Liphook?’ asked the arbitrator.
Pink with embarrassment, David hesitated, half rose to his feet. ‘Gentlemen, I had intended to introduce some further correspondence between the master and the Bremerhaven agents, which came to us only this morning. However—’ David rustled among his notes ‘—may I in the meantime move to another point, and that is the questions of the contractual status of the bills of lading at German law …’
Sarah sped back to the wine bar. It was emptying now, the tables littered with discarded glasses and empty sandwich plates, a noisy group of brokers still laughing and smoking by the bar. She cursed herself. She had thought this pupillage was going to be a breeze, that she was going to manage David beautifully and not put a foot wrong, and still get away without doing too much hard work, and already it was going haywire. Well, it was her own fault. Praying inwardly, she scanned the floor by the table where she and Teddy had been sitting. Nothing. Her heart sank. But who would want to walk off with some boring shipping documents? She hurried to the bar, where the barman was uncorking yet another bottle for the brokers.
‘Excuse me, I was in here ten or fifteen minutes ago and I left some papers on the floor by the table just over there, by the window—’
Without changing expression, the barman bent slightly and pulled out from beneath the counter Sarah’s bundle of documents. ‘Young man said you’d left them, and that you might be back for them. Lucky, ain’t you?’
‘God, yes,’ breathed Sarah. ‘Thank you.’
Clutching the documents, she sped back to the arbitration centre. In the lobby, she stabbed at the lift buttons and leant against the wall, trying to recover her breath. She was still panting when she reached the doors of the arbitration room. She could hear David’s voice droning away, so she gave herself a couple of minutes to compose herself. Then she went in as unobtrusively as possible and slid into her seat, laying the bundle of photocopied documents on the table before her.
David paused and glanced down at her. She met his eye, and it was stony and expressionless. He suddenly looked much older than she had ever thought him before. Then he went on, ‘This may be a convenient point to return to the matter of what was said by the agents to the master at Bremerhaven. As I indicated earlier, further correspondence has come to light and we now have copies of these exchanges.’ David picked up the photocopies. ‘I do apologise for the delay.’ And he began to pass round the documents. Sarah sat with downcast eyes, feeling ignominious. It was not a familiar feeling and it was distinctly unpleasant. Well, she would just have to put a brave face on it when they got back to chambers. She suddenly remembered Leo’s words to her on the steps outside chambers, and wished she’d got up early this morning and had just gone to a sandwich bar for lunch.
In the taxi on the way back, David was too busy talking over the arbitration with Paul Beddoes to pay Sarah much attention. To add to her humiliation, when she had been introduced to Beddoes, who was an attractive man with a preoccupied manner, she had tried to flirt mildly with him. But Beddoes clearly regarded David’s new pupil as someone of no significance whatsoever, no matter how pretty, and he had snubbed her.
After dropping Beddoes off at his office, they carried on to the Temple. David took a small tape recorder from his pocket and began to dictate some notes. Sarah sat in silence. This had to be just a means of ignoring her. What could he have to dictate that couldn’t wait till they got back to chambers? The cab pulled up, and David handed her a pile of books and papers. She stood on the pavement while he paid the cab, then they walked together across the road and down Middle Temple Lane.
Despite her anger and humiliation, Sarah knew that she should say something. ‘I’m very sorry about the photocopies,’ she said. In an effort to make her voice contrite, she merely sounded cold and ungracious. Sensing this, she added, ‘I had lunch with a friend and left them behind.’
‘I see,’ said David. They passed through the archway, and he stopped and turned to her. ‘Do you realise that those were original documents, and very important ones at that? If you’d lost them, it could have jeopardised our entire case. What the hell would I have been able to say to our clients, or to Beddoes?’
‘Well, I didn’t lose them, did I? And I’ve said I’m sorry.’ God, this was awful. She felt like a naughty schoolgirl. David sighed and scratched his head. He didn’t much like playing the stern pupilmaster. Besides, when he thought back to the various social occasions on which he’d met Sarah - even fancied her at one point - it made him feel awkward. Maybe he shouldn’t have leant on the pupillage committee to select her. Still, she was here now and they’d both have to make the best of it. ‘Right. Well, let’s get this lot back to chambers.’ They carried on walking. ‘The thing is, you have to understand that this is for real. If you’re going to be a barrister, you have to take it seriously. Everything. You can’t afford to be careless.’
They went into chambers and through reception. Felicity greeted them cheerfully as David picked up his mail. Sarah ignored her. She didn’t much care for Felicity’s easygoing cockiness. In fact, she decided she didn’t much care for Felicity. Still smarting from her mortification, she followed David up to his room.
‘Just put them over there,’ he said. Sarah piled the books on the side of his desk. He pointed to a desk on the other side of the room. ‘That’s yours. I’m sorry it’s a bit cramped.’
Sarah smiled and shrugged. ‘It’s fine. Thank you.’
David shuffled through some of the papers on his window sill and drew out a slim brief, tied with pink ribbon. He handed it to Sarah, his expression neutral, businesslike. He was no fool, and the events of the day had made him see that Sarah hoped to base this relationship on all those wine bar and drinks party encounters of the past. He was determined not to let that happen.
‘Right,’ said David, ‘here’s something for you to be getting on with. Barge being towed through South African waters. Bowline snaps, barge is lost, stranded somewhere between the Congo and Cape Town. Our clients are the owners of the tug, the plaintiffs are the barge owners. The contract is a BIMCO Towcon - ever come across one of those? No? Well, now’s your chance to make its closely printed acquaintance. In this case it contains a clause conferring exclusive English jurisdiction over all disputes. The plaintiffs have issued a writ in rem against our clients in the South African courts, and I want you to tell me whether you think we can obtain an injunction preventing the defendants from pursuing the action in South Africa.’ He handed Sarah the brief. Sarah took it, her face expressionless. ‘I’d like something by the end of tomorrow afternoon, please. The clients are coming in for a con on Friday.’
At five forty Sarah was still in Middle Temple library, with books piled around her. She was in despair. She’d read the towing contract from back to front several times, and still she didn’t have a clue. They hadn’t covered anything like this at all at Bar school. It was a nightmare. She put down her pen and laid the side of her head down on her notebook, and stared out of the window at the buildings opposite.
Anthony was on his way out of the library when he saw her. He didn’t recognise her at first, his attention merely arrested by the shining spill of blonde hair as she rested her head on her book. Then he realised who it was. He hesitated. The brief affair which he and Sarah had had just under a year ago had ended acrimoniously. They still acknowledged one another when they met, but Anthony hadn’t exactly been happy at the news that she was to join chambers. He went over to the counter to sign out the book he was borrowing, then glanced back. She had lifted her head now and was writing. Hell, he thought, we’ve got to co-exist, so I might as well be friendly. He went back over to the table where she was working. ‘You shouldn’t work too hard. It’s past half five, you know.’
Sarah looked up, startled, and met his gaze. Her expression was open, unprepared for the sight of him, and, for a dizzying instant, Anthony experienced again the sexual charge which he had felt on first meeting her months before. ‘Hi,’ she said uncertainly. Normally any acknowledgement of Anthony was cold and grudging, but she was too surprised, and too weary and fed up, to bother. She sighed and looked back at her book.
Anthony was caught off guard. Where was the cool, assured Sarah that he knew of old, with her self-possessed and faintly mocking smile? ‘You don’t sound too happy,’ he said tentatively, half expecting a rebuff.
But she merely shrugged and laid down her pen. ‘David’s given me this to do.’ She pushed the papers towards Anthony and he picked them up. ‘It’s the first day of my pupillage, and he’s given me something I can barely understand. Bastard.’ She leant her head on one hand.
Anthony sat down opposite and began to go through the papers. As he read, he glanced up once, quickly scanning her features, thinking how oddly vulnerable she appeared. Never, in all the few short weeks they had been together, had she been anything but sharp, assured, on top of things. There was something disturbingly new and touching about her. ‘It’s not as complex as it looks. These different forms are just basic contracts. Look—’ he came round to her side of the table and sat down next to her, flipping over the pages of the contract ‘—here’s the relevant clause. Clause 25, the jurisdiction clause. Now—’ he glanced around at the books she had taken off the shelves ‘none of these is going to help you much. We need a copy of the White Book. Hold on.’
Sarah watched as he went to fetch a copy. It had been true, what she had said to Lou that morning. He was just another boring barrister. But still better looking than most of them. And, Leo apart, the best in bed. The sudden recollection of their love-making aroused a faint, surprising flare of desire in her. He was still seeing Camilla - that much she knew. But might it not make life in chambers more amusing if she were to try and seduce him away from her? That kind of game could be played out slowly, deliriously, over quite a long time. Great fun. Sarah loved games, mind games, flirtations, bluffs, betrayals. It was what had first attracted her to Leo. And vice versa. The odds, of course, would be stacked against her, since the word was that Anthony was quite smitten, but Sarah liked long odds. Well, it was certainly something to think about. If she handled it delicately, there could be no risk of outright rejection or humiliation.
Anthony came back with a large white volume entitled The Rules and Orders of the Supreme Court of Justice, and sat down next to Sarah, leafing through it. ‘I think you’ll find you want order eleven. Anyway, it’s a good place to start.’ He was aware, as Sarah leant over to share the book with him, of the subtle smell of her, familiar, sensual. He tried to ignore its effect upon him and moved slightly away to pick up the brief. ‘Let’s have a look at the terms of this clause. ‘This Agreement shall be construed in accordance with and governed by English law. Any dispute or difference which may arise out of or in connection with this Agreement or the services to be performed hereunder shall be referred to the High Court of Justice in London.’
She glanced at him as he read, and smiled to herself.