by Caro Fraser
‘That’s what I meant.’
As they entered Leo’s flat, he went ahead, switching on lights. Camilla looked around, taking in the lush, expensive silence of the place, the pictures and sculptures, the long sofas and fine furniture. Panic rose in her throat. It was as though the place was a metaphor for Leo himself – suave, elegant, expressive of taste and experience. How could she possibly let him take her to bed? She felt gauche and a little lost.
‘Don’t look so worried,’ said Leo, smiling at her as he took off her coat. ‘Drink?’
She shook her head, looking like a stricken child.
‘What’s wrong?’
Camilla forced a smile. ‘I just don’t think I’m the kind of person you’re used to making love to.’
Leo stroked her hair back from her face with both hands, looking into her anxious eyes. ‘I’m certainly not used to making love to you – yet. We shall remedy that.’ When he drew her against him and kissed her, it was as though he wanted to transmit every fibre of his own urgent desire, to reassure her, and the sense of being so wanted by someone she loved melted away her apprehension.
He took, her to his bed and undressed her. She lay watching him, utterly unselfconscious, waiting. When he lay next to her, kissed her, touched her, she closed her eyes against the astonishing delight of it. If she had felt afraid, she knew now that Leo was too expert, too assured, to allow her anything but the purest enjoyment.
Later in the evening, he said, ‘I want you to stay, but I’ll take you home, if you’d like.’
Camilla shook her head. ‘I spend all my time being conscientious about work. No one will miss me in chambers for an hour tomorrow morning if I go home to have a shower and change. We don’t have to be in court till ten.’ She snuggled against him. ‘I like being here with you. I feel safe.’
Leo stroked her shoulder and gazed at the ceiling. He wished she hadn’t said that. Making people safe was not his speciality. Yet, of all the people he knew, apart from Oliver, he felt he would rather not fail her than anyone else.
The next morning, Leo, David and Michael stood in the clerks’ room discussing the progress of the annexe. Anthony came in to fetch papers and post from his pigeonhole. He glanced briefly at the others and murmured a greeting, then disappeared abruptly.
‘Anthony’s looking a bit hollow-eyed lately,’ remarked Michael.
‘I gather he’s playing the social scene rather hectically these days,’ said David. ‘One girl after another, parties, drinking every evening.’
‘I seem to recall you were a bit like that yourself, not too long ago.’
‘Ah, that was in my youth,’ sighed David, ‘my callow youth. At least I knew when to slow down, Anthony doesn’t seem to. He overslept the other morning and missed a case-management conference.’
Leo listened, absorbing this. The thought that Anthony’s behaviour might be a reaction to what had passed between them some weeks ago disturbed him. But there was nothing he could do about it. It was something Anthony would have to deal with himself. Leo felt he could hardly be blamed for Anthony’s failure to accept the reality of the situation between them.
‘Well, anyway,’ he said, reverting to the original topic of conversation, ‘the completion of the annexe is something we’ll all have to discuss at the chambers meeting next Friday. The best we can do for now is to get Henry to chivvy the builders.’
Henry happened to overhear this. ‘Mr Davies, I’ve been on to that lot a million times. Every excuse under the sun. The weather, supply problems, men off sick … No use you asking me to chivvy them.’
‘I’m sure you do your best, Henry,’ sighed Leo.
Passing through the reception area, Leo met Sarah. She shot him a morose look.
‘Still sulking?’ asked Leo.
‘No,’ replied Sarah. ‘I’m fed up. I didn’t think anything could be worse than working on that Lloyd’s case, but the arbitration David’s got on at the moment is killing me.’
‘Looks like you chose the wrong career.’
‘Something like that.’ She paused, while Leo set down his bundle and robing bag to put on his overcoat, then added quiedy, ‘I think I’ve forgiven you sufficiently to come round one evening this week, if you like.’
‘Sorry,’ said Leo. ‘I’m rather busy for the foreseeable future. Pressure of work, you know.’ He smiled at her as he picked up his papers. ‘Thanks for the offer, though.’
Bastard, thought Sarah, as she watched him go out and down the steps. She’d made a tactical error in going off in a huff that Sunday, even though she’d been quite within her rights to be upset. How on earth was she going to make any headway with him now? She would simply have to lie low for a while and work something out. Leo hadn’t suddenly stopped being marriageable. The way she felt right now about a career in the law – or anything else, for that matter – the option was still definitely worth pursuing. She wasn’t the kind of person to let one little upset defeat her.
Leo arrived at Chichester Rents at the last minute. Rachel came to speak to him as he was sorting out his papers. ‘Leo, she’s sent more things to Oliver.’
‘Oh, Christ,’ muttered Leo.
‘Aren’t you going to do anything about this? Don’t you want to see Oliver?’
‘Look, I’m dealing with it. I’m seeing my solicitor this afternoon about taking out an injunction against her. In the meantime, don’t throw away anything she sends. Just put it away somewhere. We may need it.’ He glanced up as Mr Justice Olby entered the courtroom. ‘We can’t talk now. I’ll see you at lunchtime.’
Camilla, who had been talking to Fred Fenton when Leo came in, overheard the tail end of the exchange and was aware of a flicker of curiosity and jealousy. She sat down next to Leo at the counsel’s table, feeling a rush from his mere proximity and from the thought of making love with him the night before. Leo gave her a brief, preoccupied smile, but the absence of expression in his eyes caused her an agony of disappointment. Nothing tender, nothing special. She barely listened as Rollason called Sawbridge and went through the rote of details about his written statement. This morning, before she’d left his flat, Leo had seemed distracted, the atmosphere quite different from the previous evening. As she made her way home to have a quick shower and change, she’d been able to dwell on the details of the night before and reassure herself with these. Now, she felt beset by new doubts. Was it going to go on like this? What if it wasn’t going to go on at all? She was aware of Rollason sitting down and Leo rising to his feet.
‘Sir Arnold, if at any time during my cross-examination you feel you need a break, please say so.’
Arnold Sawbridge, an elderly man, not in the best of health, leant towards the microphone and threw Leo a gruff ‘thank you’. It came out rather loudly, and he moved the microphone away a little.
‘Please could you explain to me how your statements are constructed? Do they represent your own dictated words?’ Leo asked.
‘A combination, sir. There are my written words, then parts are dictated and then corrected and confirmed, summarised from what I have said. They end up as my words.’
‘Very well. So you accept the fullest responsibility, do you, for what goes in and what stays out?’
Camilla smiled, catching the heightened Welsh inflection as Leo geared himself up for confrontation.
‘Yes.’
‘A few moments ago you took an oath which included the words “The truth, the whole truths and nothing but the truth”. You have that firmly in mind, Sir Arnold?’
As Sir Arnold again barked ‘yes’ into the microphone, and settled himself for what was to come, Camilla picked up her pen and endeavoured to concentrate.
When the lunchtime adjournment came, Leo immediately went off to speak to Rachel, without saying a word to Camilla. She picked up the papers she needed and set off back to chambers to get on with routine tasks, telling herself that there was no reason why she should feel so leaden-hearted. It was entirely irrational. Of course he wa
sn’t ignoring her. Unless, of course, he was regretting what had happened.
When court resumed in the afternoon, Leo found Camilla already seated at the table, going over her notes on the morning’s proceedings, her face solemn.
‘Cheer up,’ murmured Leo. ‘I’m going to give Sir Arnold a roasting this afternoon about asbestosis. You’ll enjoy that. Most of it was your work.’
Camilla gave him a grateful smile, and reflected once more on what a horrible rollercoaster being in love with Leo might prove to be. With Anthony, everything had been so steady and assured. Leo was utterly different. If every chance slight or cheerful remark was going to have this effect on her, life was going to be hell.
Leo spent the afternoon putting the elderly Sir Arnold through a meticulous grilling, though he was at pains to remain courteous at all times. Camilla looked up when Melissa Angelicos, as she now did on most days, entered the courtroom by the side door, but Leo paid no attention.
When it was approaching four-thirty, Leo said to Mr Justice Olby, ‘My Lord, I was going to move from G14 to the next period of Sir Arnold’s evidence, which is volume G15, but I wonder in view of the hour whether …?’
‘How much longer are you going to be, Mr Davies?’
‘My Lord, I am more than halfway through.’
‘You will finish tomorrow?’
‘I hope so. It’s difficult to estimate with a long cross-examination, but I would aim to.’
‘It would be useful if it could be completed before the weekend. Very well, we shall continue with Sir Arnold’s evidence in the morning. Now, I believe there are certain housekeeping matters which Mr Rollason wishes to raise …’
Camilla contemplated the brief walk which she and Leo would shortly take back to chambers. He must do or say something then to settle this awful turmoil in her mind. She had had no idea that anyone could suffer such dreadful uncertainty. Nor did she know what kind of certainty it was she wanted or expected. He’d only slept with her, after all. Maybe he did that with women all the time, and then just discarded them. Why should she be special?
When Rollason’s points had been sorted out and everyone was packing up for the day, Leo turned to Camilla. ‘You’d better go back to chambers without me. I have some things to attend to. See you in the morning.’
So that was that. Numb in heart and mind, Camilla put her things together and left.
As usual, Melissa stayed seated at the back of the public gallery until most people had left. Leo lingered over his papers. She sat there, smiling fixedly at him. Soon, apart from the court usher rearranging chairs and switching off fans, they were the only two people left. Against every instinct, Leo approached her. He had spent much time thinking about her, and had come to the conclusion that, unless she was truly deranged, which he didn’t necessarily believe her to be, she might remain open to something that went a little way beyond reason. He could only try.
‘I want to talk to you.’
‘I knew you would.’ She was still smiling. Her eyes looked wild and soft. ‘Come outside.’
They stood together on the deserted landing by the lifts.
‘I’ve let you push this game as far as it will go,’ said Leo, his voice low and even. ‘I should tell you that I intend to take out an injunction against you, preventing you from writing to me, or contacting me in any way, or coming to my place of work.’ Leo paused. Melissa said nothing, merely raised her eyebrows a little. ‘I can see that that doesn’t impress you much. Perhaps this will. You may think of me as a decent, fairly conventional human being, Melissa. I may move in what you perceive to be upstanding, professional circles, but take it from me, I number amongst my acquaintance some seriously unpleasant people. They will do most things for money. I may decide to introduce them into your life, just as you’ve introduced yourself into my son’s life. I can assure you, they can make themselves much more unwelcome than you could ever hope to.’ Melissa stared into his cold, blue eyes, and realised with horrid certainty that he meant what he said. He was that kind of person. She simply knew it, beyond doubt. Leo caught a gratifying flicker of fear as her expression faltered.
‘Leo—’ She put out a gloved hand, then stopped a little short of his shoulder. ‘This is all so silly. There’s only one thing I want. Give me that, and I’ll leave you alone. I promise.’
This was unexpected. ‘What?’
‘Love. Just to have you. Make love to me – once, that’s all. That’s all I want.’ Her voice was breathless, beseeching.
Leo stared at her. Every instinct in him recoiled, and yet, for one lunatic instant, he thought, why not? If it was that easy, if she would stop, if that would satisfy her, surely he could bring himself to it. He had prostituted himself in worse ways before, though few knew it. The thought lasted a fraction of a second, before sense took over. Even if he could bring himself to it, even if he were to degrade himself to such blackmail, it would never end there. It would go on, probably worse than before.
‘Why should I resort to anything so disgusting?’ replied Leo. ‘I’ve already spelt it out for you. I don’t like to think of any woman being put in fear, or in the way of physical harm, but if you carry on disrupting my private life, or that of my family, I won’t hesitate to do whatever it takes to stop you.’ He pressed the lift button. ‘The lift will be here in a moment.’ He walked past her to the stairs and went down to the lobby and out into the street. To his relief, a cab was passing, and he jumped in, directing it to the offices of his solicitor in Gray’s Inn, where he had a five o’clock appointment.
There he spent three-quarters of an hour with Alison, his solicitor, discussing the business of taking an ex parte injunction out against Melissa.
‘Seems to me we’ve plenty of evidence to make out a good case,’ said Alison.
‘And the scope of the order will include my child and ex-wife?’
Alison nodded. ‘Certainly. You know, Leo, you could have sought this injunction weeks ago. Why did you leave it till now?’
‘I suppose I hoped it would stop. That she would get tired of it. Besides, there is a sort of business connection – we’re co-trustees of a museum, and I had the idea that an injunction would just complicate that position. Since I’m going to resign my trusteeship, that no longer presents a problem. It was when she started trying to make contact with my son that I realised I had to do something concrete.’ Leo sighed. ‘Though I’m well aware that an injunction isn’t always the answer.’
‘Not when someone’s utterly obsessed, no,’ agreed Alison. ‘Still, we’ll lodge the application and take it from there.’
Leo thanked Alison and left her office. On the way out of the building, he heard someone call his name and turned. Coming down the steps behind him, beaming broadly, was one Caspar H. Delaney III, a West Coast lawyer whom Leo had first met at Bar School, and with whom he had kept in regular contact over the years. They had been able to help one another out on more than one occasion with legal problems in their respective jurisdictions.
‘Caspar! How are you? Why didn’t you tell me you were coming to London?’
Caspar, a tall, beaky Californian with thick dark hair and a diffident manner, replied, ‘Last-minute business. Only knew myself last night. Or rather this morning. I’m dog-tired. I just flew in. Had to come straight here for a meeting with Barry Sullivan. You know him?’
‘By name. He’s a colleague of my solicitor, Alison Fairchild. I’ve just been to see her on some personal business. Look, how about a drink?’
Caspar shook his head. ‘Can’t right now. Got another meeting across town, then I got to catch up with some sleep. Tell you what – I’m in town for three weeks or so. How about I give you a call and we get together for drinks and a meal one evening? Maybe in a coupla weeks?’
‘Do that. You’ve got my chambers number.’
They parted. Leo found he was still smiling as he scanned the evening traffic for a taxi. Caspar always had an uplifting effect on him. He would look forward to his phone c
all. An evening with Caspar was just the thing he needed to take him out of the foggy world of the Names and their dreadful litigation.
After supper, Leo rang Chay, who was still riding high on the critical acclaim which the Shoreditch Museum had received since its opening.
‘By the way, I haven’t thanked you for introducing me to that chap, Gideon Smallwood,’ said Chay. ‘He’s been very helpful with the business of extra funding for the museum. He seems to think we might even get a bit of Lottery money. Something called the Designation Challenge Fund. Got to meet all kinds of bureaucratic criteria, but Gideon seems to think we can swing it. Of course, Tony Gear’s had to resign from the trusteeship of the museum, and we’ll have to have a bit of a time lag for the sake of appearances, but I’m optimistic. Anyway, it’s something to be discussed at the next trustees’ meeting.’
‘That’s what I wanted to talk about. I’m afraid I’ll be resigning from the trust, too.’
‘I see … well, that’s a disappointment. Why?’
Leo’s mind hovered over the possibility of fobbing Chay off with some excuse about the museum taking up too much time, given his other commitments, but he knew it wouldn’t wash. The fact was, the museum was very little trouble to him. Might as well just give him the truth. ‘To be honest, it’s to do with personal problems between myself and Melissa Angelicos. She’s become something of a thorn in my side. So much so that I’m having to take legal steps. This is strictly between ourselves, you understand. Anyway, the upshot is that I simply can’t continue to have any kind of contact with her. So I’m afraid I have to give up being a trustee. I’m sorry to have to do it because I’ve enjoyed being associated with the museum. I really have.’
‘Well, if it’s a serious problem, and it sounds like it is, I appreciate your position. That Melissa is an odd woman, isn’t she? I believe she’s been having a few problems lately. That new arts interview series of hers isn’t going to be repeated – mind you, it was a bit of a disaster. And I gather Open Space may have breathed its last. I suppose the format had become dated. That leaves her with just the odd bit of journalism to fall back on. I can’t see her being given another arts programme at her age. It must be pretty awful suddenly to turn into yesterday’s news. But that’s television for you.’