Next morning Leo stood in the kitchen, tying his tie, watching Joshua flicking through the book of poetry he had taken from the shelf the night before.
Joshua looked up, feeling Leo’s eyes upon him. ‘I know what you want to say,’ he said after a few seconds. ‘You want to know if I’ll be here tonight.’
Leo sat down, smoothing the corners of his collar. He reflected briefly on what Joshua had just said. It could have sounded arrogant, or unpleasantly triumphant, the words of one displaying his power. But Joshua had spoken gently, matter-of-factly. After a moment’s consideration Leo said, ‘I want you to be here tonight. I want you here every night.’ Joshua’s hazel eyes looked into his. ‘You know how I feel about you. I can’t bear any uncertainty. If you don’t want to come and live with me, then say so now. I have to know.’
Joshua considered this, faintly amazed. If Leo wanted him here it meant he wanted to keep him. He would pay for things. Food, clothes, everything. When someone like Leo took you on, that was what it meant. You belonged. Did he want to belong to anyone? Joshua thought of the bedsit in Earl’s Court. He thought of his mother, whom he hadn’t seen in eighteen months, and of his stepfather, that bastard. There was no belonging there any more. What would it be like to share Leo’s home and life? There was no point unless he could return Leo’s feelings in some measure. Could he love Leo? He supposed he could, in whatever way Leo wanted. And there would be safety and affection, and a home. All for as long as he chose. That was the main thing. He could decide for himself how long it went on. Leo was in love with him, he could tell that. He might not ever have had this kind of a relationship with a man before, but he knew love when he saw it. This was his game all right. What had he to lose? Freedom, perhaps. Some people were unconditional and he guessed Leo was one of them. Yet there might be much to gain. Leo knew things, understood things about which Joshua wanted to learn - art, money, the ways of possession and influence. And he was generous. Were seedy, boring clubs, nights out with Damien and the occasional girl much of a sacrifice? Not in the short term …
‘Why do you want me to live with you? Why can’t you just see me now and then?’ If he was honest, he supposed he asked this question just to torment Leo, and just to hear him say the thing Joshua wanted to hear.
‘Because I love you. I want you. I want you to be there. You must know all that.’
Joshua did. He put out a hand to Leo’s face. He liked this guy. More than liked him. Something about him turned Joshua on, and that was a start. ‘Yeah. Okay.’
Leo kissed Joshua’s hand. ‘You can have your own room. Treat everything here as though it’s yours.’
‘Including you.’
Leo did not think he would ever feel so utterly besotted, so entirely and immediately happy, as at this moment. ‘Including me.’
Leo’s day in court passed smoothly, perfectly. He dealt with what was a difficult and complex case effortlessly, with a clarity of thought and swiftness of response which he had not found within himself for months. He felt charged, purposeful, and went back to chambers at the end of the afternoon glad in his heart and easy in his mind.
In the clerks’ room he picked up his mail, paused to exchange brief banter with Henry about his moustache, then went up to his room, whistling.
Henry gazed thoughtfully after him. ‘Haven’t heard him whistle in chambers for months,’ he remarked to Felicity. ‘Not since Wales won the Five Nations. Sir Basil couldn’t stand it.’
‘What? Wales winning the Five Nations?’
‘No, the whistling. That, and him taking the stairs two at a time. Not that he does much of that these days.’
‘Getting on, I suppose. Still, nice to see him happy for a change.’
She sighed. ‘Wish I was.’
Henry glanced at her. ‘What’s up?’ Henry had for some time nurtured an unrequited love for Felicity. He had once managed to kiss her in the back of a taxi after Felicity got drunk at a chambers Christmas party, but that was as far as it had gone. It was treated as a joke between them. He knew Felicity wasn’t interested in him, except as a friend, but still he cared about her, and any suggestion that all was not well with her made him worry.
‘Oh, nothing, Henry.’ She smiled at the sight of his kind, anxious face. ‘Nothing that time won’t sort out.’ She turned back to the papers in front of her. She might as well resign herself to the fact that her days at 5 Caper Court were numbered. In a few months she would be gone and it would be the end of her precious, wonderful job. She might have known it would be too good to last.
Leo left chambers at six and went to catch the train at Temple station, conscious of anxiety growing within him. He didn’t think that Joshua would leave again, not after last night, but he couldn’t be sure. He couldn’t be sure of anything until he got home and was able to reassure himself. The journey to Sloane Square and the five minute walk to his flat had never seemed longer. When he got in, he could hear music coming from the kitchen. His sense of relief was almost as great as that of the night before.
At the sound of the front door closing, Joshua stepped out into the hall. He was wearing jeans and a sweatshirt, his feet bare, and in one hand he held a kitchen knife. He looked more cheerful than Leo had ever seen him. ‘I brought my things over this afternoon. I put them in that bedroom at the back. And I bought some food. Just chicken and stuff. I thought I’d cook us some supper. And I got some wine, just something from Sainsbury’s. It’s in the fridge.’ There was something new and pliant about Joshua’s manner, less streetwise, more ingenuous. How Leo loved him.
Leo opened the fridge and glanced at the wine. Definitely not. He would put something else in later, after he had changed. ‘That’s kind of you, to think of supper. I had to wait for ever for a train. Bloody District line.’
‘I thought you drove to work.’ Joshua sounded faintly surprised.
‘Not always. Only if I’m going in after the rush hour.’ Leo leant back against the sink, happy to watch Joshua inexpertly cutting up a red pepper.
The evening was more companionable than Leo had expected. It was the first amount of time they had spent together that was not emotionally or physically charged. They simply ate and talked. Joshua listened while Leo talked about his past, about Wales and his mother, about the father he could not remember, and about Rachel and Oliver. He told Joshua about the room he had prepared for Oliver’s eventual weekend visits. ‘Rachel thinks he’s too young to be staying away from her on a regular basis, but it’s important to me that I build up a close relationship with him while he’s still little. I know what it’s like not to have a father.’
‘We’re a bit alike,’ said Joshua. ‘I’m an only child, and my dad walked out on us. But I was ten, so I remember him, of course - I mean, I still see him. Well, I used to. He moved to Halifax two years ago.’ He sipped his wine. ‘I really missed him when I was a teenager. That was when I wanted him around. Some days I felt like I hated him for leaving.’
‘I know,’ said Leo thoughtfully. ‘That’s why I want to be there for Oliver.’ He glanced at Joshua. Having the boy living with him was going to complicate things, especially if Rachel found out. But what else could he have done? Feeling as he did, what else could he have done? Anyway, Joshua was here now. Thank God. ‘Tell me more about yourself, about your family.’
Joshua gave a dismissive shrug. ‘I haven’t seen them since last Christmas. I left home the summer before, after I’d finished art school. I couldn’t take all the rows with my stepfather. His name’s Alan and he’s a bastard, besides being a policeman. My mum met him about a year after my dad left. We used to get on all right when I was a kid, but then as I got older he tried to pull the big authoritarian act all the time. He used to try and make me look small in front of my friends. That was when I really started to hate him. Then when I wanted to go to art school, he made out that it was a soft thing to want to do, that it was a cop-out. My mum never thought it was. But he tried to discourage her from paying my tuition fees and stuff. He never shut up about what a waste of time it was. Still, she backed me up. Then when my friends from art school started coming round to the house, he’d have a go at them. Nothing direct, but sort of snide, insinuating remarks. He made a lot of the fact that he was in the police, sort of hinted that he could shop them if they were using drugs, stuff like that. They couldn’t stand it, or him. We used to have really bad rows, and my mum would get all hysterical and upset. So I left. Got myself the bedsit in Earl’s Court and the job at the Galleria. I’d ring Mum up now and again, of course, just so she knew I was all right, and then just before Christmas she said it would be nice if I came home for a few days. Well, I didn’t really fancy spending Christmas in the bedsit and all my mates were going to be with their families, so I went. Biggest mistake of my life. Alan started off okay, but after he’d had a few drinks, he couldn’t resist getting the needle in. So when I told him the police were a complete load of corrupt racists with a collective IQ of an average snooker score, he got really rattled. He actually went for me, grabbed me. I don’t think he’d have hit me, but poor old Mum was all over the place. I haven’t been back since and I never intend going. Of course, the money’s a bit of a problem, which is why I’ve done those things on the side. I didn’t believe I could do it at first, but then … Well, after a while it becomes easy money.’ He stopped, faintly embarrassed.
Leo had been listening with interest, studying him, absorbed in the beauty of the boy, the movements of his face as he talked, the expressiveness of his hands. ‘What about your art? How much does it mean to you? Are you ambitious, for instance?’
Joshua laughed. ‘No, not really. I don’t want much out of life, to be honest. I mean, I take what comes.’ He leant back in his chair, clasped his hands behind his head. ‘I do like painting. It takes me out of myself. I suppose in a couple of years I might think of studying some more, turning it into a proper career, become a designer, something like that. But for the moment, I don’t much care.’
Joshua’s tone was nonchalant, but Leo knew from the pain in his eyes that leaving his family had been more traumatic than he had been prepared to admit. He tried to make it sound as though he had chosen his way of living, but Leo could see all too clearly that the boy was too broken, lonely and dispirited to make anything of his life at present. Maybe he could change that. Maybe with time and enough affection, Joshua could make something of himself. Leo desperately hoped that he could be the one to help him.
By the end of just one week, Joshua’s presence in the flat seemed so perfectly right, and so necessary to Leo’s well-being, that the past months had a nightmarish blankness when he looked back on them. His love for Joshua had sprung from nowhere, but became, with every day that passed, more settled and absolute. He did not question it, could find no motive for it, but simply accepted it. He knew that Joshua’s feelings for him were of a different kind, but he hoped that, with time and patience, they would strengthen and deepen.
At Leo’s suggestion, Joshua had set up an easel and paints in the back bedroom, and for some of the day he worked there. Leo didn’t know what he did the rest of the time. He didn’t ask. He was happy just to see him there each night, apparently content. Some evenings Joshua cooked, on others Leo took him out to restaurants. On Saturday, at the end of that first week, they went shopping and Leo bought him new clothes, and in the evening they went to the theatre, where Joshua sat a little restlessly through one of Tennessee Williams’s less well-known plays, and then to dinner. Sitting in the Ivy, watching Joshua take it all in, the faces, the food, the wine, the novelty of his surroundings, Leo was reminded of the time, some years ago, when Anthony had first come to 5 Caper Court as a pupil. Leo had taken him under his wing, had loved him, wanting to teach and mould him, to turn him into the companion of his heart. It had never happened. Perhaps that would be possible with Joshua. With all the delusion of new and undisappointed love, he hoped and believed that it would be.
Sarah was careful to leave Anthony alone for the first week of Camilla’s absence from chambers, but on the Monday morning of the second week she went to ask his advice about a piece of work she was doing for David concerning liability insurance, knowing that Anthony had a hearing coming up on that very same subject. She sat in his room as he explained the point, only half listening but making a show of intelligent interest and, as she gazed at him, idly pieced together the distinctly erotic events of the first time they had gone to bed together. Oddly enough, she had discovered that her decision to indulge in a bit of mischief-making had actually rekindled her old interest in Anthony and she found it hard to be with him without wanting to touch him, to provoke some kind of sexual response in him. For the moment, though, she would keep her distance. There would be ample opportunity to test his powers of resistance over the days to come. With an effort, she drew her attention back to what Anthony was saying.
‘… So the contractors would have to demonstrate a legal liability in damages in respect of the third-party claims. That’s the main point. Does that help you?’
Sarah nodded and smiled. ‘Yes, thanks very much. It’s an interesting area of law. I like insurance work.’
‘Good.’ Anthony leant back and tapped his teeth with a pencil, his eyes scanning Sarah’s face, unconscious that he was subtly stimulating his own latent desire by dwelling too long on her mouth and the line of her throat tapering into the neck of her blouse. ‘Actually, I have a hearing in the Court of Appeal tomorrow which might interest you. It’s a case involving a cruise line trying to recover under their liability insurance for compensation paid out to passengers. It shouldn’t last more than two or three days. Why don’t you ask David if he’ll let you sit in?’
‘Yes, I will. And thanks for the help.’ She went out, smiling a little smile.
Anthony sat for a few moments, fiddling with his pencil, thinking about Sarah. It was odd how relationships shifted and changed. He recalled first meeting her and the effect she’d had on him. That was history, though. They’d moved from an intense, brief affair to cold mutual dislike, and now that had given way to a friendly tolerance. She was a strange girl. You never knew if what you were getting was the genuine article. Looking back, he felt that perhaps the only times he had seen the true Sarah were when she lost her temper. She was someone you learnt to be wary of. Then it suddenly occurred to him - Leo treated her that way. Cautiously, cynically. Anthony wondered why that was. According to Leo, theirs was just a nodding, social acquaintance. Another mystery, one he couldn’t be bothered to ponder. He glanced at his watch and decided to go to the common room for tea.
As he passed the clerks’ room Anthony caught sight of Leo, laughing about something with Felicity. Good to see that he’d cheered up recently. But Leo was like that, going into periods of reclusiveness, then emerging, brisk and happy.
‘I’m just going for some tea. Coming?’ he asked. Leo glanced at his watch. ‘Yes, why not?’ But at that moment Felicity, who had just answered the phone, said to him, ‘Call for you, Mr Davies.’
‘Who is it?’
‘A Miss Angelicos. Says it’s personal.’
Leo caught Anthony’s eye and grimaced, then said to Felicity, ‘I’ll take it in my room. I’ll see you in the common room in a minute,’ he added to Anthony. There was no point in putting her off, thought Leo as he went upstairs. She’d only call again. Best to get it over with.
‘Hello, Leo?’ The affected huskiness of her voice, so effective on television, instantly annoyed Leo. Its tone suggested an intimacy which he by no means felt.
‘Melissa,’ he replied, trying to sound brisk, ‘what can I do for you?’
‘Actually, I’m calling for some professional advice. I have something of a legal problem.’
Good, at least he could deal with this on a business footing. ‘I’m afraid,’ he replied, ‘that I can’t take instructions directly from you on the phone. If you need my help, you’ll have to go through a solicitor first.’
‘Oh, no. No, I didn’t mean that I need you to act for me. Nothing like that. No, I thought you might be able to put me in touch with someone who can help me. You see, my sister and I have been left some property in Italy under the will of an uncle of ours, and the lawyer who’s handling the estate out there is simply disastrous. The whole thing is going to take for ever to sort out unless we do something on our own initiative. I was wondering if you could give me the name of a good Italian lawyer.’
‘I see. Yes - yes, of course I can. Hold on a moment.’ Leo reached out for his address book. Thank God it was something straightforward. He didn’t mind helping the woman out. ‘Where is the estate being handled?’
‘Genoa.’
‘Right, let’s see …’ Leo leafed through the pages and gave her a name and number. Melissa noted them down.
‘That’s wonderful. Very kind of you.’ She hesitated. ‘Why don’t you let me repay the favour by buying you a drink one evening this week?’
Oh, no, thought Leo. He wasn’t going to be caught in that way. ‘I’m sorry,’ he replied, ‘but I seem to be busy every evening this week.’
‘Oh … Well, I’ll see you at the next trustees meeting, in that case.’
‘Yes. Anyway, glad I could be of help. Goodbye.’
Leo put the phone down. Had that just been a device, something to lead round to the suggestion of going for a drink? He had no idea. But it seemed on the evidence that she wasn’t someone who gave up easily. He left his room and went to the common room to join Anthony for tea.
‘Why on earth is Melissa Angelicos ringing you in chambers?’ asked Anthony, as Leo pulled up a chair.
‘She needed the name of a Genoese lawyer. Some problem with family property. I gave her Carlo Cigolini’s details.’
‘I didn’t realise you and she were quite that chummy.’
‘We’re not. Although I rather think she’d like us to be. She’s been coming on rather strong ever since that trustees meeting.’
‘Ah, you’ve been exercising that fabulous charm of yours in an indiscriminate fashion. That’s the problem. Try to keep it in check.’
‘First of all she inveigled me into driving her home, then she invited me in for supper - which I declined, by the way and last weekend she called my home and left several messages about some dinner party she wanted me to go to.’ Leo drank some of his tea. ‘I didn’t, of course. But I’d like to know how she got my home number.’
‘Probably from Chay.’
‘You think?’ Leo mused on this. ‘I suppose that’s possible.’
There was a silence of a few seconds, then Anthony said, ‘You seem to have recovered your spirits recently. Things going well?’
‘Excellently,’ replied Leo. ‘You know that breach of contract case I told you about? The one where some Americans were meant to be supplying pipelines for an oil refinery and didn’t?’ Anthony nodded. ‘Well, against insurmountable odds, I managed to persuade Langley this morning to stay the action in favour of Libyan jurisdiction.’ Leo chuckled.
‘Good God. The Americans must be apoplectic. They’re not going to get very far in a Libyan court.’
‘Well, quite. I do regard it as something of a triumph.’ Leo suddenly thought of Joshua, and was instantly filled with an expansive happiness and the urge to tell someone about it. Anthony could be confided in. He would understand. ‘Actually, it’s not the only good thing that’s happened recently—’ Leo hesitated.
‘What?’
Leo leant forward in his chair, clasping his hands together. ‘There’s nobody else I could tell this to, without feeling and sounding incredibly foolish … I’ve met someone. A young man. His name’s Joshua.’
Anthony nodded, not quite sure how to respond to this, uncertain of what his own feelings were. On one level he was happy for Leo. Leo needed love like everybody else, and if he’d found it, good luck to him. But a relationship with any young man was bound to be precarious and he didn’t want Leo to get hurt, or to make a fool of himself. And there was something more - he felt a tender little tension within him, something like jealousy, at the idea that Leo should love someone the way he had once loved Anthony. ‘I’m glad,’ said Anthony at last. ‘You seem to be happy.’
‘Yes, I’m very happy. He’s staying with me. After all the wretched business with Rachel, and all the hell of these last few months, I can’t tell you how much it means to me.’
‘How’s it going? The divorce, I mean.’ Anthony wanted to deflect the conversation away from Leo’s new love. It was something he didn’t want to contemplate.
Leo sat back. ‘On the whole it’s fairly amicable. But we’re having something of a disagreement over my access to Oliver. I want to have him every other weekend and Rachel’s completely opposed to the idea. Says he’s too young.’
‘What does your solicitor say?’
‘She thinks it’s perfectly reasonable that I should have him on that basis. He’s not going to be eighteen months old for ever. It’s just a question of getting a court to see it that way. She’s lodged an application on my behalf for a defined residence order.’
‘What does that involve? I didn’t study much family law.’
‘Oh, the court welfare officers come and interview me, take a look at the flat, see that it’s a decent place for Oliver to stay. I don’t anticipate much of a problem.’
‘What about this new boyfriend of yours? I thought you said he was living with you. That might not go down too well.’
‘Don’t worry. I’ll make sure he’s not there when they come round.’
‘But there’s more to it than that, isn’t there? I mean—’ Anthony hesitated. Perhaps his interference was unwarranted. Leo could be pretty touchy. But as a friend, he had to say it. ‘Well, it’s more than just a question of appearances, surely? You have to ask yourself whether it’s going to do Oliver any good, seeing his father living with whichever young man happens to be—’
‘Anthony,’ interrupted Leo, ‘Joshua is not one of a string of lovers. I hope he’s here to stay. And despite what you may think, I do have Oliver’s best interests at heart.’
There was a brief, uncomfortable silence. ‘How old is he?’ asked Anthony at last. ‘This Joshua.’
‘Twenty.’
‘Twenty.’
‘For Christ’s sake, Anthony,’ said Leo abruptly, ‘don’t try to sit in judgment on me. You know nothing of the situation. His age doesn’t matter.’ Leo stood up. His manner had become chilly. ‘I have to be getting back.’
After Leo had left, Anthony sat in the common room and stared at his hands. Did Leo really think he was going to find permanence with some twenty-year-old pick-up? Still, it wasn’t any of his business. And maybe Leo was right. You shouldn’t judge a situation you knew nothing about. He himself had been a mere twenty-two when he had fallen in love with Leo, and he had been as sure and devoted in his feelings as anyone could be. But he hadn’t been prepared to become what Leo wanted. That was the difference. Maybe Joshua was what Leo needed and wanted, and vice versa. Somehow Anthony doubted it. He finished his tea and strolled back to chambers, wondering whether Camilla would ring that night. He had begun to find the evenings lonely and dull.
He met Sarah as he came into chambers.
‘I asked David if I could sit in on that case you mentioned and he says it’s fine.’
‘Good,’ said Anthony. ‘I’ll see you in the morning.’
Sarah sped lightly upstairs to her room. Things were about to become rather enjoyable.
When Leo got home that evening the flat was empty.
‘Joshua?’ Leo slung his coat over a chair and went quickly into Joshua’s room. The little coil of tension within him eased. Joshua’s belongings were still there. Leo loosened his tie and went into the kitchen to fix himself a drink. He sat with the evening paper for half an hour, waiting, finding it hard to keep his attention fixed on what he was reading.
Joshua came in just after half past seven. He was wearing the Hermes jacket which Leo had bought him on Saturday, and his golden-brown hair was, for once, brushed, the tumble of curls pulled back in waves. It made the soft lines of his handsome face harder and more mature.
‘Hi,’ said Joshua. ‘Been home long?’
‘Half an hour,’ said Leo. He felt tense. He realised that if Joshua had stayed out all evening, he would have been reduced to a miserable wreck. But it was not so for Joshua. The casualness of his tone when he spoke was completely unaffected. He couldn’t really have cared one way or another whether Leo was in when he got back. It was in small moments like this that the balance of the relationship was clearly discernible, and Leo hated it. He wanted Joshua to care as much as he did and that was impossible.
Then he glanced across at the set of keys which Joshua had dropped on the work surface before opening the fridge to get himself a beer. They were the keys to the garage and to the Aston Martin.
‘Where have you been?’ Leo tried to keep his tone light.
‘Just out and about.’ Joshua cracked open his can of beer.
‘In my car?’
Joshua turned to look directly at him. ‘D’you mind?’
‘Yes,’ replied Leo quietly. ‘As a matter of fact—’ He took a deep breath, trying to contain his anger. ‘Apart from the fact that it is a very expensive car, you’re not insured to drive it. Didn’t that cross your mind?’
‘Sorry. Didn’t realise it was such a big deal. Anyway, I was very careful, don’t worry.’
‘That’s not the point!’ Leo was about to give full rein to his anger, but he stopped. It was pointless. Joshua’s thoughts and actions were those of a child. Leo could tell from the way Joshua had come in, from his very attitude, the new clothes he had on, that he’d been swarming around town, showing off. Pretending that the car was his, feeling big, amusing himself. Well, he was young. Young people did that kind of thing. They were selfish and heedless. He would just have to make sure it didn’t happen again.
‘In future, you don’t touch the Aston Martin. Understand? If you need a car to get about, I’ll buy you one. Something more practical.’
‘Christ, you’re so patronising!’ burst out Joshua. ‘“Treat everything here as though it’s yours”’, you said. But when it comes to your car - that’s off limits. Joshua’s too young to be trusted. Why can’t you just get me added on to the insurance?’
Leo sighed. The boy simply didn’t get it. ‘Joshua—’ Leo put out a hand, but Joshua shrugged it off and stood up.
‘I don’t want to be treated like a child, Leo. I don’t want to be here if it’s not going to be on equal terms. I think I might as well just go and put my things together now.’
Leo’s heart suddenly flooded with fear. This was the first time there had been any kind of altercation between them. This was a new side to Joshua. He hadn’t realised that he could fly off the handle so easily, that his cheerful, easygoing nature masked this aspect of his personality, sullen and volatile all at once. ‘Don’t be stupid. Joshua—’ Leo got up and went to him. ‘This is absurd. I don’t want to argue with you about a car, for God’s sake. I can see you might need one. I just thought you might want something easier to handle, more practical.’ Joshua looked at him woodenly. ‘But don’t talk about leaving. I need you. That’s more important than anything.’
Joshua relented. It was too easy to make Leo afraid. He didn’t really like doing it. Anyway, if there was a car in it … ‘Okay. I’m sorry.’ Joshua put his arms round Leo and held him.
On Tuesday morning, as he put together his papers before going over to court, Anthony felt mildly depressed. Camilla had called last night, but for some reason the conversation had been stilted, disappointing. It was hard to be affectionate at a distance, he supposed. But Camilla hadn’t wanted to talk for as long as he did, was impatient to get away. How was it going to be when she got back?
Sarah put her head round the door and said cheerfully, ‘Morning. Are you ready?’
‘Yes,’ said Anthony. ‘I think I’ve got everything. Let’s go.’
As the day in court progressed, Anthony’s spirits began to lift and, in concentrating on the case, he forgot entirely about Camilla. He hadn’t initially entertained much hope of this appeal succeeding but, to his surprise, the three Appeal Court judges seemed favourably disposed towards his argument.
‘I must say I tend to agree with you in that respect, Mr Cross,’ said Lord Justice Hazel. ‘I don’t see that the fact that there were additional underwriters involved in the 1995/6 year affects the right of set-off of the individual underwriters in respect of claim and counterclaim.’ He glanced in mild enquiry at his fellow Lords of Appeal and Anthony was gratified to see Lord Justice Youell give a little shake of his head. Lord Justice Mildon looked slightly more thoughtful.
Sarah glanced up at Anthony, noting the expression of satisfaction which crossed his face. He was easy to read. His manner held a directness which was almost naive. Leo was not dissimilar. Perhaps it was a result of living in this hothouse world of the Temple, this unique and claustrophobic little society. Barristers were loud in proclaiming that they lived in the real world, just like other people, but Sarah somehow doubted it. Shopping at Tesco’s and going to the children’s sports days did not amount to the real world. There was something exclusive and stultifying about the Inns of Court, something which drew you in, timeless, artificial, indescribable. To live and work in that world day after day was what shaped people like Anthony, regardless of what they might do in their spare time. This was their life.
And from the couple of months she had spent at 5 Caper Court, Sarah wasn’t sure that it was a life which she wished to lead. Still, she would wait out her six months and then see what happened. In the meantime, she could while away the time in considering how to play her hand this evening. If she got the chance, that was.
By four o’clock, Anthony had still not completed his submissions and Lord Justice Youell interrupted him to confabulate briefly with his brethren. ‘Mr Cross,’ he said at last, ‘I think we are all agreed that it would be desirable to dispose of this matter within two days, if possible, as Lord Justice Mildon has other commitments on Thursday. You are, as I take it, close to completing your submissions. May I suggest then, if everyone is agreeable, that we sit late this afternoon - say, until five o’clock, so that you may finish and we may then hear Mrs Shepherd first thing tomorrow morning?’
There was a general murmuring of agreement and Anthony ploughed on. Excellent, thought Sarah. More chance of having a drink with Anthony than if they were to finish at four, as usual.
By the end of the afternoon, as he gathered up his papers, Anthony felt exhausted. He had been on his feet for most of the day, but at least he had finished his submissions. Tomorrow he could just sit back and listen.
‘Well done,’ said Sarah. ‘I think you deserve a drink after all that hard work. Let me buy you one.’
Anthony hesitated, glancing at his watch. There probably wasn’t much point in going back to chambers now. ‘All right. I’ll see you downstairs in ten minutes.’
The wine bar in Chancery Lane was still relatively empty when they got there. Sarah, despite Anthony’s gentlemanly protests, insisted on buying the wine. ‘Let’s sit in here,’ she said, indicating a snug booth. ‘It’s going to be busy in half an hour and we won’t be able to hear ourselves talk if we sit at a table.’
Anthony poured them each a glass of wine. Sarah unfastened her hair and gave her head a little shake to let it fall free around her shoulders. Then she took off her dark jacket and put it to one side, and began to unbutton the top few buttons of her high-necked blouse. She did all these things in the leisurely, detached fashion of someone merely relaxing after a long day, but the sensuality of every little movement was not lost on Anthony. He handed Sarah her glass, and she sighed and pushed her collar back, rubbing her fingers gently across her throat, aware that Anthony was watching as she did this.
‘God, I hate this uniform. Anyway - cheers.’ She took a sip of wine. ‘Here’s to victory in the Court of Appeal.’
‘Yes - well, it went better than I’d expected.’ Anthony drank his wine, wondering why he felt faintly awkward with Sarah. He couldn’t really think of anything to talk about. There was something about sitting in this booth with her which reminded him of the first time they had gone out together, and recollections of that evening seemed to be crowding into his mind. He decided the safest topic was the case and so they talked about that for a while, then gossiped briefly about other members of chambers.
‘How’s Camilla getting on in Bermuda?’ asked Sarah eventually.
‘Fine, I think,’ replied Anthony. ‘I spoke to her last night. Though I suspect she’s finding it quite stressful. But, then, working in foreign surroundings must be.’
‘Mm she’s very good, isn’t she? Seems to get tons of work. I’m sure she’ll do very well. She was always very conscientious when we were at Oxford together, as I recall. I was one of those people who spent all their time at parties, not turning up for tutorials, handing essays in late, but Camilla wasn’t like that. She was very studious and it’s paid off.’ There was a pause, then Sarah added reflectively, ‘I’m glad you’re seeing one another. I mean, you and she are so well suited. You’re the same kind of people.’ She laughed, finished her wine and poured them both some more. ‘Unlike you and I - God, we were disastrous!’
‘Were we?’ Anthony found the picture which Sarah was painting faintly disturbing. It made Camilla and himself sound like a couple of stuffy young fogeys, set apart from the exciting and irresponsible world which Sarah inhabited.
Sarah smiled and gazed directly at Anthony. She looked very pretty, he thought, with her hair round her face, her eyes very bright and mischievous. The look spurred him to recollections of being with her, of how tantalising and sexy she could be, when she wasn’t being bad-tempered and argumentative. ‘A total disaster,’ said Sarah firmly. ‘As I recall, I was always trying to persuade you to stay at my place when all you wanted to do was go home and get a good night’s sleep before work the next day. I wasn’t good for you in the slightest. Unlike Camilla. I’ll bet she always puts work before pleasure. Sensible girl.’
The truth of this rankled momentarily with Anthony. ‘Oh, I don’t know …’ He tried to think with affection of Camilla’s dependable, reserved personality. She wasn’t at all as dull as Sarah was implying.
‘I wish I could be like her,’ sighed Sarah. There was something in the words which suggested that the last thing in the world Sarah wanted was to be like Camilla. ‘But I’m not. So I might as well be happy with who I am.’ She glanced at Anthony’s glass. ‘Drink up.’ Anthony obediently finished his wine, and Sarah poured some more. ‘I remember when I first realised that she was the one for you, actually.’
‘Oh?’ Anthony wasn’t quite sure how they’d fallen into this line of conversation and wanted to change it, but didn’t know how.
‘It was at a party we went to. We’d had an argument before coming out - I don’t think you wanted to go. Something like that. Anyway, Camilla arrived late, and I saw the way you looked at her.’ Sarah smiled a little wistfully.
‘Rubbish,’ said Anthony. ‘We didn’t start going out together for months after that.’
Sarah smiled. ‘I’m more perceptive than you think. Not that it matters. Even then I think it was becoming obvious that you and I were particularly bad news for one another.’
There was a pause, and Anthony found himself saying, ‘Not in all respects.’
‘No?’
Their eyes met, and suddenly Anthony was dizzyingly overwhelmed by memories of making love to Sarah, quite without wanting to be. He said nothing, dropping his glance to her parted lips.
‘Anthony,’ said Sarah softly, drawing on the intensity, the closeness of this moment of shared recollection, ‘this has nothing to do with Camilla, or anything else.’
‘What hasn’t?’
She leant forward and put her hand on the nape of his neck, drawing his head towards hers. He let her kiss him, his hand loosening its grip on the wine glass, his senses drowning in the pleasure of it.
He drew away. It had everything to with Camilla. He was serious about her. He couldn’t just sit in wine bars and let Sarah do this, much as he might like it. The last thing he had expected at the end of a hard day in court was to find Sarah seducing him. ‘That wasn’t a good idea,’ he said, his voice a little unsteady.
‘No? You just said we weren’t bad news for each other in all respects. And that was where we were very, very good … weren’t we?’ The table in the booth was narrow, and Sarah slipped a hand beneath it, running it swiftly along Anthony’s thigh and up to his crotch.
‘Jesus, Sarah—’ Anthony glanced quickly round, and put his own hand beneath the table to pull Sarah’s away, but instead, despite every good intention, found himself pressing her hand against his body and leaning forward to kiss her again urgently. They were almost entirely hidden from view in the booth.
Sarah pulled her mouth away from his for a moment, slightly breathless. ‘I don’t want to spoil anything between you and Camilla. I don’t care about you and Camilla. She’s a long way away and what we do isn’t going to hurt anybody. I promise. I just want you. I just want you inside me again.’ Anthony let out a small groan and searched for her mouth with his. What this woman could do to him … He felt totally irresponsible, overwhelmed by the feel of her, the taste of her. But she leant away again, her voice no more than a whisper. ‘Remember fucking me, Anthony? Remember …?’ Their mouths met again.
After a moment Anthony sat back. He felt as though he was going to explode. ‘Let’s get out of here.’ They left the wine bar, found a taxi and went back to Sarah’s.
A few hours later, Sarah lifted her head from the pillow. ‘You’ve got a long day in court tomorrow. You should be going.’ She smiled at Anthony and he stared expressionlessly into her eyes, then kissed her.
‘This is a one-off. It’s not going to happen again.’
Sarah laughed. ‘What? Because of Camilla? Don’t worry. I understand all about that.’ She turned over, lifting one arm behind her head, watching as he dressed. ‘Let’s say it was just for old times’ sake.’
Anthony buckled his belt and slipped on his jacket. ‘I have to be going.’
Sarah rolled on to her stomach again and blew him a kiss. ‘See you in court,’ she said.
Just a one-off, Anthony assured himself, as he left Sarah’s flat and began the short walk to the underground station. He knew he should never have gone back with her in the first place, but at the time he hadn’t been able to help himself. God, it had been good. He went downstairs and stood on the gusty platform. But it had been madness, too. Madness.
Absolutely the first and last time. At the thought of Camilla, and his betrayal, he felt a horrible, sliding sense of guilt. Why hadn’t he felt it two hours ago? Then, it had seemed the furthest thing from his mind. The train came in and Anthony got on and sat down. At least he could reassure himself that it was never going to happen again.