Errors of Judgment

by Caro Fraser

  Sarah waited for the clenched, painful feeling in her gut to subside. She shouldn’t be surprised. Just because they’d slept together on Grand Night didn’t mean he wasn’t seeing someone else. She of all people should know that. How ridiculous to hope that because he was letting her live in his house for a few weeks, he was interested in rekindling a relationship. After all, what kind of a relationship had they ever really had? Mutual use and abuse, no more. Well, at least now she knew the terms on which she would be living with him.

  She picked up her bag and walked towards the house, fixing what she hoped was just the right smile on her face.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Leo realised that he could no longer put off the business of getting in touch with Gabrielle’s mother. Every time he spoke to her Gabrielle asked if he had done so, and his stock excuse – that he would do so when he felt the time was right – seemed to be wearing thin.

  They were lunching together in Chancery Lane, Leo snatching time between court hearings, Gabrielle between lectures and tutorials, when she brought it up again.

  ‘I don’t understand what difference it makes if I get in touch with her or not,’ said Leo. ‘I would have thought my relationship with you is all that matters. How do you know she even wants to speak to me? It could be difficult for her. Embarrassing. Have you asked her if she wants me to get in touch?’

  ‘No,’ admitted Gabrielle. ‘I suppose it’s up to you.’

  ‘Exactly.’

  ‘I just think you should. I don’t know how you can’t want to. It’s like – it’s like the whole thing is one big jigsaw, and this is the last piece that needs putting in place.’

  ‘Well, maybe you’ll get married some day, and she and I can meet again at your wedding. A fittingly romantic conclusion?’

  ‘It’s not about anything being romantic.’ Gabrielle frowned, and Leo could tell his remark had hit home.

  ‘Really? I think some little-girl part of you wants the long-lost lovers reconciled.’

  She shrugged. ‘Yeah, OK. I suppose I want you two to …’ She cast around for words. ‘To, well – acknowledge one another. Otherwise it’s like there’s something you’re both ignoring, pretending doesn’t exist.’

  ‘By which you mean – you?’

  ‘Maybe. Anyway, I’ll keep on nagging you. And by the way, I am not romantic. I hate that word. I hate everything it stands for.’

  ‘I see. So you’re a material girl who doesn’t believe in love.’

  ‘No. I just don’t like sentimentality. I believe in love. I’m seeing someone now, as a matter of fact. Someone pretty special.’ She thought of Anthony, of how they had seen one another almost every night for the past week. What would Leo say if he knew?

  ‘That’s nice. A he or a she?’

  Gabrielle sat back in her chair. ‘What a random thing to say! A man, of course.’

  ‘Why of course? One should never presume, these days.’

  ‘Either you’re trying too hard to be right-on, or—’ She broke off. Something slipped into place.

  ‘Or what?’

  ‘Nothing.’

  Leo signalled for the bill, not really wanting to take the conversation any further. For all the ease and intimacy they had created over the past month and a half, occasionally they would hit these jarring pockets of incomprehension, which made them realise they didn’t really know one another.

  ‘I’d better get going,’ said Gabrielle. ‘I have a tutorial in ten minutes.’

  ‘And I have to get back to court,’ said Leo, fishing out his wallet.

  ‘I might come along and watch you after my tutorial. Nothing else to do.’

  ‘You’re very welcome. Although you might find my discourse on what constitutes an unsafe port somewhat tedious.’

  She smiled. ‘I’ll be the judge of that. I like watching you in court. You’re pretty cool, you know.’

  ‘I wish some of my younger colleagues in chambers thought that.’

  ‘Maybe they do.’ She bent and gave him a light kiss on one cheek. ‘Catch you later.’

  When he got back to chambers at five, Leo decided to grasp the nettle. He sat down at his desk, found the piece of paper Gabrielle had given him with Jackie’s number, and rang it. The photograph of Jackie had acted on his memory like an evocative trace of scent, or a snatch of music, but no matter how hard he tried to recall the places and events of that summer, he couldn’t bring them to life. One of so many affairs. Even the fact that she was French didn’t help – yet how many French women had he slept with? He was in the middle of counting when a woman’s voice, light, smoky, answered.

  ‘Hello?’

  ‘Jackie?’

  There was a pause. He could hear traffic sounds at her end, then she said, ‘Yes. Who is this?’

  ‘Leo. Leo Davies. Gabrielle gave me your number.’

  ‘Oh.’ She let out a breath, as if giving in to something. Leo realised she must have been preparing for this for some time.

  ‘I meant to call before now.’

  ‘No – it’s I who should have called you,’ she replied hurriedly. ‘A long time ago.’ The emotion in her voice made him realise that the subject of Gabrielle was not one to be dealt with in the blundering clumsiness of an out-of-the-blue phone call.

  ‘I thought … I thought perhaps it would be a good idea to meet and have a talk.’

  ‘Yes. Yes, of course. Hold on a moment – I’m sorry. I’m just paying a taxi.’ A moment later she came back on the line. ‘I’m in the West End right now. I could come over to the City and meet you somewhere in, say, half an hour?’

  Leo hadn’t envisaged anything so sudden. He felt unprepared. But he could think of no good reason for putting it off.

  ‘Yes, if you like. There’s a wine bar in Chancery Lane – Hunter’s. It’s usually fairly quiet early in the evening.’

  ‘Fine. I’ll see you there.’

  Leo clicked off his phone and sat musing. The casual, almost perfunctory nature of the exchange seemed at odds with the significance of the fact that he had just spoken, after a silence of twenty-two years, to the mother of his child, a child whose existence he had been unaware of until very recently. Apart from her initial surprise, Jackie had sounded composed, unflustered by the idea of meeting up with him. But then, people of her age – his age – generally knew how to maintain a facade of imperturbability whatever their emotions. He guessed, however, that her feelings must be as turbulent as his.

  Even at half five the basement wine bar was busy. There was a rowdy group of office workers crowded round the bar, the fag end of a Christmas lunch party. Not that he could have found anywhere quieter. Every bar and pub in the City was permanently busy in the run-up to Christmas. Leo glanced round, but could see no solitary females. He seated himself at a table as far away from the raucous office crowd as possible, and ordered a bottle of Rully Blanc and two glasses. He felt nervous, glad he had brought papers with him to read while he waited.

  Jacqueline didn’t arrive till six. Leo had glanced up every time someone came into the bar, but when an expensively dressed middle-aged woman, unmistakeably not a City type, appeared in the doorway clutching a number of designer carrier bags, he knew it had to be her. She glanced around, then began to forge a path through the knots of drinkers. The closer she got, the more distinct her features became, and suddenly, extraordinarily, Leo recognised not just the girl in the photo, but the girl from that summer so long ago. She was older, her once dark hair streaked with blonde highlights to hide the grey, but her face was the same – not a girl’s face, but that of a beautiful, poised woman. The physical sight of her seemed to open a door in his mind, and a thousand memories came cascading in. How could he have forgotten? The rush of recollection – of Jackie leaning over a window sill to call to him in the street, of Jackie sitting on a riverbank with her feet in the water, of Jackie tapping out a Gitanes and asking him to teach her to blow smoke rings – was so overwhelming that when he stood up and she recognised
him, he was momentarily lost for words.

  ‘Leo,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry – it took me longer to get here than I thought.’ He stood up and shook the hand she held out. She set down her bags and took off her coat, and he hung it up for her. They both sat down. She clasped her hands together on the table, and smiled at him. ‘What a very long time.’

  ‘A very long time,’ he replied. He picked up the bottle. ‘I bought some wine. I can’t remember if you …?’

  She nodded. ‘Please. Just a small glass.’

  He poured the wine. She took a sip, then set the glass down. She met his gaze and let out an awkward laugh. ‘My God, this is so strange.’

  Leo smiled. ‘Isn’t it?’ He was fascinated by how much she was still the girl he had once known, and yet not. Their initial exchanges were slow, each hesitating before they spoke.

  ‘So – I think I must apologise.’

  ‘For what?’

  ‘For the shock all this must have been to you. For not telling you at the time. I should have realised Gabrielle would want to find you some day.’

  ‘As shocks go, it’s been a very pleasant one. Truly.’

  ‘Maybe. But I should have told you a long time ago.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter now. Things are as they are.’

  Nothing was said for several seconds. They were two strangers, locked in silence, struggling to deal with the intimacy which connected them. When Jackie spoke again, her tone was polite and friendly, like a woman making small talk at a drinks party.

  ‘Gabrielle tells me you’ve met – what, several times now?’

  ‘That’s right. We meet just about every week. It helps that she’s a lawyer. I mean, that we’re working in the same area.’

  ‘She’s doing that because of you. Studying law, I mean.’

  ‘I doubt that’s entirely down to me.’

  ‘You’re her father. She sets great store by who you are, what you have achieved.’

  ‘I’m only her father in one sense. You and your husband have brought her up, you are her true parents.’

  There was another long pause, then Jackie said, ‘I’m relieved to hear you say that. Daniel, my husband, has been—’ She broke off, trying to find words. ‘Anxious about all this. There was a time when you seemed to have become a fixation with Gabrielle. She knew about you, she made it her job to learn a lot about you, but she was so nervous about actually going to find you. It took her a long time. We didn’t encourage or discourage. It had to be something she did as and when she wanted to. We were worried she was building you up into something – Daniel thought you might …’ She shrugged. ‘I don’t know … eclipse him in some way. That he would lose something. Not her, but – well, something. The fact of Gabrielle being his daughter.’ She spoke hurriedly, as though glad to be releasing her fears. She looked up at him, her eyes bright with unshed tears. Leo remembered what a very emotional girl she had been. So much was coming back to him.

  ‘Gabrielle is more his daughter than mine,’ he replied. ‘She knows that. We’ve talked about a lot of things. Whatever balance there is to find in situations like these, I believe she’s found it. I don’t think she expects anything from me.’

  Jackie shook her head. ‘You don’t know her very well. Not yet. Gabrielle is – she is, well, not a demanding girl, exactly. But she is passionate, very wilful. We’ve had some very tempestuous, difficult times with her. It’s better now she’s older. She seems to have found some stability. I’m glad she’s doing what she’s doing. And I really believe the fact that she has persevered with her law studies, that she has made it this far, is to do with you. To make you proud.’ Jackie laughed uncertainly. ‘Or the person she has made you up to be. This ideal she’s had.’

  ‘I’m far from ideal. As I’m sure she realises, now that she’s getting to know me better.’

  Jackie put her head on one side and gave Leo an appraising look. ‘Self-deprecating. That’s not the way I remember you.’

  Leo realised that over the years Jackie must have thought about him often, in a way he had never thought about her. Finding out she was pregnant a few weeks after they stopped seeing one another must have acted like a catalyst, crystallising the recollection of the relationship, and of him, for ever.

  ‘I can’t remember the person I was then.’

  She drew a deep breath. ‘It’s probably not the right moment to start going back over old times. I don’t even think I want to. Do you?’ The look she gave him was searching, almost challenging. Leo didn’t know how to respond. By saying nothing, he felt he was failing her. She went on, ‘Gabrielle, the here and now – that is what counts. I want you to understand, Leo – Daniel and I want you to understand – that you will have a lot of influence over Gabrielle, now that you are in her life. As I say, she has been something of a wild child. Perhaps we indulged her too much. A lot of her friends are rich, spoilt kids, maybe not the best people for her to hang out with. It will be good if you can help to keep her steady.’

  Leo poured a little more wine, giving himself time to think how to respond.

  ‘I’m not sure if I’ll be much use in that department. I don’t know anything about the rest of her life. But I’ll do what I can – if she needs my help, that is. She doesn’t seem to.’

  ‘Don’t worry – I don’t mean to burden you with responsibility for her, not after all these years. It’s just that if things go wrong, or she has problems, you might have some influence with her, in ways we don’t. You know what young people are like.’

  ‘I think I understand what you’re saying. I’ll keep an eye on her. She seems fine, though.’

  ‘Yes, I hope so.’

  There was another silence. It felt as though the subject of Gabrielle had been disposed of for the moment. ‘So,’ said Leo, ‘Gabrielle tells me that you and your husband live in Richmond? And you have two sons?’

  The next twenty minutes were filled with a courteous exchange of information. By the end of it, Leo felt more remote from Jackie than he had at the beginning of their meeting. It was as though they were retreating from intimacy, rather than making headway.

  She broke the tension by glancing at her watch. ‘I’m afraid I have to go.’

  She slipped on her coat. Leo helped her pick up her raft of carrier bags. ‘So much Christmas shopping,’ she said. ‘I seem to finish up buying presents on behalf of everyone else in the family.’ She lifted her hair free of her coat collar. ‘I envy you, having a little boy to buy presents for. I always think Christmas is for children, really. Grown-ups just go through the motions. It’s when you’re a child that it’s magical.’

  ‘Oliver’s very excited, certainly,’ replied Leo. She put out her hand, and he touched it, then they both laughed awkwardly, and Jackie leant over and kissed him on either cheek. ‘Goodbye, Leo,’ she said.

  Her fragrance was one he knew, but couldn’t name. He wasn’t sure where he had last encountered it. Surely not twenty years ago? He smiled. ‘Goodbye.’

  He watched her leave, then sat down. He poured what was left of the wine into his glass, marvelling at what could both connect and disconnect people over time. Then he took out his reading glasses and tried to read the papers he had brought. But the encounter with Jackie, with his own past, had left him disturbed. Jackie was on her way home now, happily laden with Christmas presents, to prepare supper, to be with her family, to become immersed in a life entirely unconnected to his own existence. Confused, bleak thoughts beset him. Of Rachel. Of Oliver. Of how different his life might have been if he had known twenty-two years ago that Jackie was pregnant.

  Pointless thoughts, he told himself. His life had been good. Was good. Some mistakes, certainly. But things were as they were. Gabrielle was still a secret he had told no one about. Now he badly needed someone to share it with. He had thought that he might tell Sarah – there was little she didn’t know about his life already – but since moving in she had been somewhat remote. The easy, relaxed sensuality with which she usually behav
ed when they were together had disappeared. Tactfully he let her alone, assuming she was still raw from the break-up with Toby, that it had been harder for her than she had expected. Maybe she’d even had regrets about it, and about the events after Grand Night which had led to it all. He told himself he had nothing to feel guilty about; there had been no need for her to tell Toby that she had slept with him. The truth was that she had probably let it happen simply to give her an excuse to break off the engagement. With that achieved, presumably she’d had no further desire – except for somewhere to stay. The idea that something had been lost between himself and Sarah made him feel even more isolated and depressed. He glanced at his watch. Almost seven. He drained his glass, gathered up his papers and made his way back to chambers, hoping Anthony would still be there.

  Anthony was sitting at his desk, going through his online bank statement in a mild state of shock. The only light in the room was that from his desk lamp, its glow etching gaunt shadows on his face. He couldn’t believe the figures. That he had gone through so much money in one month was unbelievable. The debits to Blunt’s cascaded down the page, night after night, thousand upon thousand. He felt his stomach tighten with fear. Why was he afraid? Because he knew only too well that he couldn’t just shrug these losses off, quit gambling and wait for his finances to recover. He didn’t have the strength of will. A part of him knew – was convincing itself even now – that inevitably he had to go back to the tables to try to make good what he had lost. The disastrous scenario lay all too vividly before him, and he could think of no escape.

  There was a light rap at his door, and he glanced up and saw Leo.