by Neil Wild
“Kate Potter’s number?” asked Brakespeare, taking his pen out.
“I was going to let you have it.” Said Newberry. “I think it’s going to be permanent.”
“Oh.” Brakespeare could not help registering surprise. “You’ve made a decision then?”
“Yes, it’s been a long time coming, I know, but it’s not an easy decision to make - especially when kids are involved.”
‘Tell me about it,” thought Brakespeare.
chapter forty three
Back in Worcester, the next day, Brakespeare picked up his telephone.
“Joe, it’s Jonny Brakespeare, can you talk.”
“Just a minute I’ll shut the door of my office.” replied Gargan. “What can I do for you, boyo?”
“Joe I was up in London yesterday, for the directions hearing. “We’re on next week with our application to have the case dismissed.”
“That’s quick.”
“Yes it is, but we were lucky because a fixture collapsed. I thought I would let you know, and also ask how far Durkin has got.”
“Well we’re ready to go and visit the solicitors. I’ve found over 100 properties which the National Bank or Building Society repossessed, and which National Properties bought. Because the solicitors files are privileged and confidential, and they could refuse to hand them over, we’re making an application for a warrant. I thought that we should, and the Boss agreed.”
“When?”
“Well I knew that you had your Directions Hearing and I was waiting to see what happened there. We’re having to tread very carefully.”
“O.K. Look, can you go ahead now?”
“At your service, sir.”
“Keep in touch.”
“Don’t worry I will.”
“I don’t think that there’s anything more for us to do now.” Brakespeare told Mortimer. “it’s in the lap of the gods.”
“And your Miss Lappin.”
“I think she’s confident.”
“David doesn’t like her.”
How do you know?” asked Brakespeare, annoyed. “Has he phoned you.”
“Did he tell you he got told off not only for discussing the case with Levy, his co-defendant, but with two of his surveyors who are prosecution witnesses?! I see no harm in his talking to Levy, although I agree it is a little unwise to talk to the surveyors.”
“Well I’m sorry, Mr. Mortimer, but Miss Lappin, who Newberry does not like has been told by Levy’s barrister, that if this application fails, as part of his defence, Levy is going to blame you for getting him into all this. You, Mr. Mortimer will be named as the mastermind behind all this.”
Mortimer went white. “But it’s not true.” he spluttered.
“Just thought that you might like to know. Did Newberry tell you that he’s decided to leave his wife. He’s staying up in London with Kate Potter.”
Mortimer put his head in his hands. He let out a big sigh.
“Jonny, Jonny. For God’s sake get everyone out of this!”
“I’m doing my best.”
Mortimer looked up.. “Sorry. There’s a lot hanging on the result of this case, as I’m sure you know. What are you going to do next week as far as accommodation is concerned?”
“Not sure. I’ll find somewhere cheap to stay.”
“Jonny, find a good hotel The firm will pay.”
Brakespeare was surprised. “Thanks, thanks very much. I appreciate that.”
“And Lisa too.”
“Damn, I hadn’t thought about her.”
Mortimer looked at him coyly. “I thought that Lisa’s company was one of the perks of this case.”
Brakespeare decided not to rise to the bait.
“So Mr. Newberry will not be travelling with us”. Brakespeare explained to Lisa.
“Well at least he’s got that little problem sorted” said Lisa. “Will you be doing the divorce?”
“Well, his wife will have to divorce him for his adultery”
“I would have thought that if she was going to do that, then she would have done it long ago”
“Maybe, but I don’t want too much to do with him after this case. He’s such a self centered bastard. You’re still coming to London next week are you?”
Lisa looked at him in an old fashioned way. “If my charts and graphs are the key exhibit in this case, you don’t think that I’m going to miss out for one minute, do you?”
“We’ll have to stay overnight of course. Mortimer has kindly said that he will pay for our accommodation,” he added, not trying to sound too hopeful.
Lisa’s expression did not change. She was still testing him; waiting for him to make the first move. As far she was concerned the ball was firmly in his court.
“That’s nice.”
“You’ve sent everything off that Rosie Lappin wanted, have you?”
“All done and dusted, yesterday.”
“Right can you chase the C.P.S. to see if they will agree the bundles, then I think we’re there. Oh, I’ll travel up from Milton Keynes on Sunday. No point me coming back here. I suppose that you ought to go up Sunday night.”
“Sure, I suppose that’s best, otherwise it’ll be a very early start. Are you sure that the firm will pay?”
“Ask Mortimer.”
“No, I’ll take your word for it. Do you want me to find a hotel?”
Brakespeare grinned.
“Unless you want me to ask Margaret to do it?”
“I’m sure she would.”
“Your new found bosom friend?”
“Exactly.”
“No, you can book. Maximum Four Stars.”
“I’ll put it on my list. Two single rooms at the best hotel I can find for the money.”
Brakespeare hesitated, but thought better of it.
chapter forty four
Brakespeare found his stress levels rising as Friday dawned. He had not heard anything from Milton Keynes. If Mel had a phone in her new flat, he could keep in touch with her on a regular basis. He wasn’t sure what he faced when he went back home. Home? Was that the correct title. Where was he going to make his home? With Sophie and the kids? As far as the kids were concerned there was no contest; but Sophie?
First he had to get this case out of the way. How did he feel about that? His instinct told him that things looked good, but he also knew that going to Court was like a game of Russian roulette. You never knew where the magic bullet was, and sometimes it could blow your case apart. Magic bullet? If they had let Newberry into the witness box, that would have been letting off a loose cannon. The man was so convinced that he had done nothing out of order that he was unable to see where he might have gone wrong. In the witness box he would have been unable to side step any landmines put in his path in cross examination.
It was in this frame of mind that on Friday lunchtime he decided to go and sit quietly in Worcester Cathedral. Somehow, and he wasn’t sure that he knew why, he had never been inside it in the weeks that he had been parking next to the entrance door.
He walked in. It was quiet. Someone was playing the organ gently; probably practising. Immediately he was soothed by the calmness of the Cathedral, and sat down halfway down the nave. The thoughts that usually raced through his mind were banished as he listened to the gentle pulse of the organ, and took in the his surroundings. He liked the musty smell of the Cathedral spiced by the faint residuary fragrance of burnt incense.
He did not know how many minutes he had sat there, when he became aware of someone coming to sit next to him.
His first reaction was one of annoyance. Of all the hundreds of empty seats in the Cathedral, why did they have to choose here?
Then for a millisecond he thought it might be Lisa, and turned eagerly, only to see Margaret settling herself down next to him.
“Hello Jonny.” He realised that it was the first time that she had ever called him by his first name, and he felt a little vulnerable. In the office there was always that degree of formality w
hich prevented her in getting too close to him.
“Hello Margaret,” he replied quietly. “What’s a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?”
She laughed. “I sometimes think that if I was a nice girl, then I wouldn’t have to come here, but I do regularly. I find that it helps with life’s problems. You know this Cathedral was founded in the 7th century AD, although this present building is only 8 or 900 years old.”
Brakespeare looked surprise at this dismissal of a few hundred years.
“Well it’s not long when you consider that man has been around for two and a half million years.” She added.
Brakespeare’s expression must have set into one of surprise, because she continued.
“I do read books, you know. In fact I like to read books; I can’t get out, and so it’s my hobby.”
“You can’t get out.”
“Oh dear, has nobody told you? My husband, Peter. I’m afraid that he suffers from multiple sclerosis, and has done so for a number of years. Carers look after him most of the time, but I like to look after him myself, and so I can’t really get out of the house.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”
“So you see, you’re not the only one with problems.”
“What makes you think I’ve got problems.”
She smiled. “Well there’s Mr. Newberry for a start.”
“He’s a problem and a half.”
“And totally undeserving too don’t you think? I know you’re divorced from your wife, and have had a lot of trouble with the Solicitors Regulation Authority.”
“Who told you that?” Brakespeare asked a little too quickly.
Margaret smiled at him as if anticipating what he was thinking.
“I saw your C.V. It said that your status was “divorced.”
Brakespeare relaxed.
“I expect that you have other problems; wondering where to go next, and indeed who to go with. Would you like a short stroll. We can go to the cloisters. I often walk round and round them while I am trying to work out where my own life is leading, and what I’m going to do when Peter dies - as he will.”
She lead him out of a door on the southern side of the nave, and into the perfect square of the Cloisters.
“I expect that these cloisters are filled with the spirits of generations of people who wandered round here trying to sort out their problems.”
Brakespeare smiled. “Do you think that the collective decisions help.”
“I do, I really do. I don’t believe that we are just biological machines. I think that when we go, we leave a little behind in the world.”
They started to walk slowly. Brakespeare held his hands behind his back.
“So are you going to stay with us?” Margaret obviously knew of the partners’ offer. She probably knew everything.
“I don’t know, Margaret, I honestly don’t. My children are in Milton Keyes; I don’t know anyone here?”
“Lisa?” Margaret quickly interjected.
“She’s leaving.”
“Do you have a girlfriend?”
Brakespeare looked at her. “No. Not a girlfriend.”
“So the children are all that is stopping you from settling in Worcester?”
“Yes.”
They walked on a little more.
“Your former wife. Forgive me for prying, but strange things do happen. Is it possible that you could get back together?”
“What makes you say that?”
Margaret looked at the ground in front of her. “I don’t know. I just have a feeling. It’s the way you said that the children would be part of any decision to stay. Most men, and I hasten to add that my experience only comes from having dealt with divorce cases for many years, give custody of their children to their wives, as they have to do if they are to stay in work, and then plan their lives without children around. They arrange contact with them to suit their own and not their children’s lives.”
Brakespeare nodded his head slowly. “You have a point there.”
“And so, I deduce that there is something happening; about to happen; or has happened – I don’t know, which brings your children into the equation.” Margaret spread her hands, palms down.
“Do you have psychic powers?”
Margaret stopped walking. “Are you calling me an old witch?” She was smiling Brakespeare was pleased to note.
“You may think that, I couldn’t possibly comment.” he replied. They started to walk again.
“No Jonny dear,” she lay a hand on his arm. “It’s just that I have more time on my hands than I ought, and so I probably think about things that are really no concern of mine - except that you are my concern now of course. I wouldn’t want you to leave. Not so soon after Gordon’s death.”
Brakespeare thought that she was going to cry.
“I’m sorry,” she continued, “ but I worked with him for over 20 years. He, well.” She struggled for words. Then she took a deep breath. “They say that every good secretary is in love with her boss. I was in love with Gordon. There I’ve said it.”
She fell silent, and they walked even more slowly.
“Were you…?” Brakespeare began his question hesitantly.
“Lovers? No. never lovers. In fact I don’t even know if he felt the same about me. It was a romantic sort of love; if you can understand what I mean.”
“Do you mean that you were in love with the unattainable?”
“I suppose so. That only makes you love them all the more; doesn’t it?”
“I don’t know about that.”
“I think you do,” said Margaret. “Lisa”
“I’m not in love with Lisa.” Brakespeare laughed.
“No, but she’s in love with you.”
“How do you know that. Has she said so?”
Margaret shook her head. “No, but I can tell. She was the same way with Gordon; at first. Please don’t repeat this, but I think that in a way he took advantage of her. He gave her a job, although I understand that she had a somewhat troubled past; she was grateful and fell in love with him because he represented someone who was kind to her and whom she could trust.”
She looked him straight in the eye. “What man wouldn’t take advantage of a girl in that situation? You haven’t of course?”
“Haven’t I?”
“I expect that you’ve wanted to; but Gordon; well he wasn’t like you, divorced and away from his problems. He had a choice to make. I think he made the right one.” She smiled.
“By not leaving his wife and children.”
“Yes.”
“You didn’t like Lisa for that, did you.”
“No, I didn’t. The relationship would never have lasted; he was far tool old for her – nearly 20 years between them.” She thought about what she was going to say.
“And I suppose I was jealous. She had done something that I hadn’t been able to – in different circumstances.”
“And now?”
“And now? Lisa and I have something in common. We both loved the same man, although there is a difference.”
“What’s that?”
Margaret remained silent, looking at her feet as she walked. They had walked all the way round the cloisters and the exit was coming up. The conversation was probably nearing it’s end. Margaret clutched at Brakespeare’s sleeve to make sure that she had his attention.
“I didn’t stop loving him. I never will. I love my husband – even though he’s not really a husband any more, but I have never loved anyone like Gordon Morrison. I am just so, so glad that we were able to share our companionship. He knew all about me and my life. I knew all about him and his life. I shared his happiness in watching his children grow up. I shared everything. I shared his relationship with Lisa. Another place; another time – well, who knows. But ours was the perfect relationship. It never went wrong.”
Brakespeare was stunned. What had prompted Margaret to tell him all this.
“So what are you tellin
g me?”
Margaret thought. “I didn’t think that I was telling you anything – in that sense, but, I suppose if you are asking me for some advice, it’s ‘take your opportunities while you can.’”
She looked up at him and smiled.
“Will you.”
Brakespeare smiled back.
“Yes, yes I will.”
Only he didn’t know which opportunity.
chapter forty five
Brakespeare took the cross country route home. He had a lot to think about. He had arranged to meet Lisa at the Court. She was happy to find her way there from whatever hotel she had booked. He hadn’t pressed her for details. Armed with the minimum of papers in the case he had said “au revoir” to the office for an expected few days.
He hoped that Mel would be in contact. He missed her company – and her body. Sophie was his major concern. He would have to face her when he saw the kids. He was going to have to telephone to see what the arrangements were going to be for the weekend. Should he try a sexual reconciliation again with her? But where? Her parents were likely to be home. He could bring her back to the digs. That would raise Trevor’s eyebrows. Did he really want to try and make love to her there? In the same bed in which he had had sex with Mel? Then there were the kids. Where were they going to park the kids? Children were the best form of contraception, as every couple knows. It would all seem contrived and forced.
Mel had hinted that she would always be available for the foreseeable future, but knowing the way life ran - in anything but a straight pattern - how far ahead was the foreseeable future?
Should he perhaps agree to move back with Sophie temporarily - just see how things went? But where? They would have to find a house – probably rent at first, but that would mean tying himself in for at least six months. What if it all went wrong again? Was he sure enough of his feelings for Sophie to want to take the risk? Not really. He felt nothing for her. It was the kids.
There again, where would he work? Should he move the whole family to Worcester? Should he stay with Mortimer Ridley. Should he go back to square one and the C.P.S. in Birmingham. Should they move back to Edgbaston again. Oh my God, that would be so embarrassing.