“What on earth are you doing here?” He pulled her to one side and then looked at his colleagues. “I’ll catch up with you later, Raphael,” he said to one of them, who nodded and looked at Bree with undisguised curiosity.
“Well?” Declan asked her.
“I—I didn’t think you’d be here,” she said. “I wanted to see what it was like.”
“What it was like?” he asked.
“The court. Where you worked. What you did.”
“Why?” he asked.
She shrugged as carelessly as she could. “I wanted to know about it.”
Declan looked at her in silence.
“What did you want to know?” he asked eventually.
She smiled faintly. “I’ve no idea. I just thought it would be interesting.”
“And is it?”
“Probably,” she said. “To be honest I just got overawed when I walked in the door.”
“Did you want to see a case being heard?”
She shook her head. “I just wanted to see somewhere different.”
“Right.”
They stood silently beside each other while another eddy of robed barristers brushed by them.
“I suppose people will think I’m a client,” said Bree.
“Probably,” Declan agreed.
“Do you do criminal cases?” she asked.
“Yes,” he said.
“So I could be a criminal?”
“Or not.” He smiled at her. “You don’t have the look of someone who’s lived a life of crime.”
She smiled faintly. “I suppose that’s something to be pleased about.” She looked around her again. “I should get going,” she said.
“I have an office nearby,” said Declan. “Would you like to have a cup of coffee with me there?”
Bree said nothing at first then nodded.
She’d expected Declan to bring her to an old and crumbling building where the walls would be festooned with portraits of dead judges. But he led her out of the court area and across the street to a modern building with blond wood furnishings and highly polished tiled floors. She followed him up a flight of stairs and into a small suite of offices.
A girl working at a computer looked up as he entered.
“Four phone calls from Bernard Fallon,” she said. “One from Mrs. McAllister and one from Gerry Rhodes.”
“Fine, Sally, thanks,” said Declan.
He pushed open the door to another office and beckoned Bree inside.
She probably thinks I’m some kind of criminal too, thought Bree, as she caught the other girl’s mildly curious glance. I hope she thinks I’m a jet-setting jewel thief or infamous forger, not a murderess or a petty smash-and-grab merchant.
Declan went over to a coffeepot in the corner of the room.
“Maybe I should make some fresh,” he said. “I’m sure this has been brewing for hours.”
“It doesn’t matter,” said Bree. “I probably don’t want coffee after all.”
“Neither do I,” said Declan.
They shared brief smiles.
There was a small sofa alongside the wall. Declan gestured Bree to sit down.
“This is really weird,” she said. “I feel as though I’ve stepped out of my life and into something else completely.”
“So do I.” Declan sat down beside her. “I’ve never been totally stunned in court before, but I sure was today when I saw you.”
They were silent. Bree could hear the sound of her own breathing.
“My sister needs a solicitor,” she said suddenly. “Her marriage has broken up.”
“Oh.” Declan looked at her. “So that’s why you came really?”
Bree cleared her throat. “I told her I’d check with you.”
“Which sister?” asked Declan.
“Nessa,” said Bree. “The firebrand.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
Bree recognized the professional tone of his voice.
“Family law isn’t my area,” Declan told her. “But I do know of a couple of firms who—”
“She needs the best,” Bree interrupted him. “That shit has been playing away with at least two other women.”
Declan raised an eyebrow.
“She didn’t have a clue,” said Bree. “She believed him when he said he loved her.”
Declan nodded. “I’ll check for you,” he said. “I’ll recommend somebody good.”
“Thanks.”
They sat in silence for a moment. Then Declan stood up. “If there isn’t anything else?”
Bree didn’t look at him. She stared across the room at the abstract picture on the wall. “I keep thinking about you,” she said abruptly. “What you said to me.”
Declan sat down again. “I’m sorry about that,” he told her. “It wasn’t very fair of me, I knew that I’d taken you by surprise.”
“Tactics.” She smiled shakily at him. “That’s probably what you do all the time.”
He laughed. “Not deliberately in your case,” he assured her. “At least, I don’t think it was deliberate.”
“You said those things but you didn’t try to get in touch with me again.”
“I was embarrassed,” he confessed. “I thought that I’d rather horrified you in the first place. And I did leave the ball in your court, so to speak.”
“Surprised me.” Bree felt herself relax a little. “Not horrified.”
“Afterward I thought of how ridiculous it was. Me with three almost grown-up children. You so much younger and with a totally different kind of life. I was supposed to be a kind of friend to you and I know that’s how you thought of me. I shouldn’t have said anything.” He grinned ruefully. “I’m probably going through a mid-life crisis or something.”
“I go through some kind of life crisis every few months,” said Bree. “I wouldn’t worry about it too much.” She reached out and removed the wig from his head. She turned it over in her hands.
“I forget about it,” Declan told her. “When they were younger the kids used to rob it for dressing up.”
“You only have one wig?” she asked.
“No, but that’s—” he broke off and looked at her uncomfortably.
She raised her eyebrows in silent query.
“Monica bought that one for me,” he said.
“Oh.” She put it on the small table in front of them.
“That’s what’d it be like, isn’t it?” asked Declan. “You say something or do something and I’d tell you that Monica didn’t say things like that or do things like that.”
“You think so?”
“I don’t know!” He looked at her despairingly. “I haven’t done this sort of thing since she died. I haven’t tried, Bree. I haven’t wanted to.”
“I’ve gone out with a good few men,” she told him. “Sometimes they’ve done things that have reminded me of previous boyfriends. Sometimes they’ve done things that have reminded me of boyfriends I wished I hadn’t split up with.” She smiled slightly. “It’s not the same but it can’t be helped.”
“You’re very sensible for someone who’s only twenty-five,” said Declan.
She laughed. “I’m not at all sensible, really,” she told him. “My sisters think I’m the flighty, slightly mad one. I’m sensible about cars and bikes, that’s all.”
“I really like you,” said Declan. “You—you intrigued me straightaway. As my son and your ex-boyfriend pointed out to me already.”
“The ex-boyfriend being your son is a definite complication,” said Bree. “As are your overprotective daughters.”
“It’s too much, isn’t it?” Declan picked up his wig and put it down again.
“It would be very, very difficult,” said Bree.
“Because of the girls or because of Michael?”
She laughed shortly. “It’s hard to know which is worse.”
“You never got to kiss Michael,” said Declan.
“Nope.” She looked steadily at Declan. �
�I wanted to, though. I really did.”
“Would you want to now?” he asked.
She shook her head. “That time has gone.” She smiled wryly. “I never really figured out why we didn’t.”
“I’m glad you didn’t,” said Declan. “I really don’t think I could kiss you myself if you had.”
“Are we going to kiss each other?” asked Bree.
“What do you think?” Declan’s brown eyes met hers again.
“Perhaps I shouldn’t let another kissing opportunity pass me by,” she said.
His lips were soft but his kiss was confident. She put her arms around him and pulled him closer to her. He tasted, very slightly, of coffee and his aftershave was musk.
When he let her go she ran her tongue across her bottom lip. He looked at her anxiously.
“How often do barristers kiss people in their offices or chambers or whatever it is you like to call them?” she asked.
“I really don’t know,” said Declan. “I’m not sure how often barristers actually want to kiss people in their offices.”
“Do you want to do it again?” she asked.
“Oh yes.” He smiled at her and this time held her even closer.
And she was very glad it was Declan she was kissing.
Cate was wearing a tracksuit. It was one that her company distributed, plain gray with an embossed logo and its sales for the past month had been well above target. Cate knew why—it was tremendously comfortable as well as being stylish and the subdued logo of the manufacturer had become the fashion statement of the autumn.
She glanced at her watch before picking up her brush and sweeping her hair into a ponytail. She slicked some tinted lip balm on her lips and sprayed Escada Sport behind her ears and on her wrists. She didn’t bother with any more makeup. She knew that a few months ago she would have spent ages on getting her face exactly right—even for a night in with her sisters—although that in itself would have been an unlikely event. But in the time since they’d come back from Spain, she’d used her makeup more sparingly than ever before and never bothered retouching it in the evenings.
Ian Hewitt, her boss, said that he liked her more natural look. “It wasn’t that you looked unnatural before,” he told her frankly, “it was just that you looked too perfect to be true sometimes. And I think that the clients like the softer appearance.”
She didn’t look perfect now, she thought, with her ever more discernible bump making the tracksuit more of a necessity than a choice. She had a healthy glow courtesy of her holiday tan, although her face was thin and, despite the extra weight of her pregnancy, she knew that she wasn’t eating enough again. Since coming home she’d felt too tense to eat properly.
She went into the living room and plopped onto the sofa. Nessa, Jill and Bree would be here shortly. Nessa was bringing a collection of videos. Upbeat ones, she said, so that they could have a good laugh if they got low.
Bree and Cate had suggested that neither of them were feeling especially low and Nessa had agreed that she wasn’t either right now because since Adam had moved out she was feeling incredibly good about things but upbeat videos would be a good lift all the same. Undemanding, Nessa had said, and despite feeling good about Adam’s departure, she could only cope with undemanding at the moment.
Cate thought that Nessa might have a point. She didn’t feel like watching anything very taxing either and, even if she wasn’t feeling low, she was terribly uneasy. Her mind was still occupied with either thoughts of the baby or thoughts of the company’s sales graphs. The sales graphs were great but she was still terrified about giving birth. She thought about it every single day and every single time she could feel her heart race with fear. But she was coping with it. Sort of. Whenever she thought about it now she allowed herself to feel the fear for a couple of minutes and then she resolutely put the thoughts to the back of her mind again. She knew that she’d never be able to think of this as a joyous experience like Nessa did but she hoped that she’d manage to get through it.
The buzzer sounded and she got up.
“We’re here!” cried Jill as she waved at the monitor. “Open up, Cate!”
She released the entrance door and then stood at the apartment door to wait for them.
Jill was first up the stairs carrying a huge bouquet of flowers.
“They’re for your new apartment,” she told Cate.
“Thank you.” Cate took them from her.
“I’m sorry that you and Finn don’t love each other anymore,” said Jill.
“So am I,” said Cate.
“It’s a bit of a mess, isn’t it?” said Jill. “Like Mum and Dad.”
“Oh?” Cate looked at Jill then at Nessa who rubbed the back of her neck and shrugged.
“Did Mum tell you that they’re probably going to get a divorce?”
Cate nodded.
“It’s not my fault,” said Jill. “It’s not anybody’s fault. They don’t really love each other anymore.”
“I know.” Cate wanted to cry at the practical tone in Jill’s voice.
“I told Mum I’d prefer if they did live together but she says they can’t. Dad says he’ll come home but Mum says that if he does that we’ll have to leave. They’ve got other people talking about it for them. To make an arrangement.”
“It’s hard to live with someone when you don’t love them anymore,” said Cate.
“They both love me.” This time Jill was unable to keep a trace of anxiety out of her voice. “Dad said so and Mum said so.”
“And it’s true,” said Nessa forcefully. “We love you most of all.”
“I still wish you loved each other,” said Jill. “I don’t like it the way it is now. I want us to be together like we were before.”
“I’m sorry it can’t be,” said Nessa. “But sometimes you stop loving someone. Or you can like them a lot—I like your dad a lot—but you have to live in different houses.”
“But your Mum will never stop loving you,” Cate reassured Jill. “It’d be impossible to stop loving you.”
“She says I drive her to despair sometimes,” said Jill.
“You probably do.” Cate smiled at her. “But she still loves you.”
“And so does your dad,” said Nessa.
Jill sighed deeply. “I hate people not loving each other.”
Cate swallowed hard. “So do I, honey,” she said. “So do I.” She looked at them both brightly. “What’ll you have to drink?” she asked.
“White wine for me,” said Nessa.
“Juice,” said Jill.
“Any special juice?”
“What d’you have?”
“Orange, passion fruit or cranberry,” said Cate.
“Orange,” said Jill.
“Please,” added Nessa automatically.
“Please,” said Jill.
Cate got the drinks and was just sitting down again when the buzzer sounded.
“I’ll get it!” cried Jill. She pressed the intercom button.
“It’s me,” said Bree.
“I know,” said Jill. “Come on in.”
A minute later Bree bounded into the room. Her face was flushed and her eyes sparkled. Both Nessa and Cate looked at her in surprise.
“Are you on happy pills or something?” asked Nessa. “I’ve never seen you look so cheerful.”
“No.” But Bree couldn’t keep the smile off her face.
“What then?” Cate’s tone was suspicious.
But at that moment Jill pressed the remote control for the TV and the theme tune to Finn’s show started.
Bree and Nessa exchanged looks of horror as Cate stared at the screen. The images of Finn came one after the other and Jill looked around at her. “It’s Finn’s show,” she said. “D’you want to watch it even though you don’t love him anymore?”
He called me, thought Cate. He called me but he didn’t call back.
“Leave it on until I get Bree a drink.” Her voice croaked. “What’ll you have,
Bree?”
“Beer,” said Bree.
“Beer is disgusting.” Jill was still watching the TV.
“When have you drunk beer?” demanded Nessa.
“When you were on holidays,” said Jill. “Dad shared some with me. He said it would educate my palate.”
Nessa sighed
Jill turned up the volume as Finn strode across the studio.
“This evening we’re going to be talking about perceptions,” said Finn. “How people see us, how we see ourselves, preconceived notions about each other. I’ll be talking to an interesting array of guests, all of whom have suffered from the ideas that others have had of them.”
“Put on a video now,” she told Jill. “I don’t want to see any more of him.”
“I think I left them in the car.” Jill looked around.
“For heaven’s sake, Jill, it was your job to look after them!” Nessa looked at her crossly.
“There’s one already in the machine,” said Cate hastily. “Play that until you find the other one.”
She put a bowl of nachos on the coffee table, along with a tube of Pringles and a couple of dips.
“Oh, great, it’s Friends,” said Jill as she sat on the floor with her juice and grabbed a handful of Pringles while still watching the TV. “That’s much better than the ones we brought. I like Joey the best. He wants to be an actor. I want to be an actress when I grow up.”
“Do you?” asked Nessa in surprise. “I thought you wanted to be an astronaut.”
“Not anymore,” said Jill. “People are always nice to actresses. They give them clothes and everything.”
Nessa grinned and looked at Bree. “Sorry, sis,” she said. “She used to be like you but now she’s turning into Cate.”
Bree smiled. And then grinned. And then she giggled.
“Bree Driscoll, what on earth is the matter with you?” demanded Nessa. “You were beaming like a Cheshire cat when you came in and you’re still at it.”
Bree felt as though her whole body was fizzing with excitement. Yet she wanted to savor the moment, not to blurt things out in one go.
“Bree?” Cate looked at her curiously. “What’s happened?” Then her eyes widened. “Have you seen Declan? Is that it?”
Bree nodded. “I kissed him,” she said. “I really did.”
“Yuch!” cried Jill. “Kissing boys is yuch.”
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