The Lawyer's Secret Baby

by Polly Carter

  “Don’t be silly, Harley,” Harriet said still smiling warmly at Arian and patting his arm. “You two go inside. I can fetch Lyddia. I was going to swing by the office this afternoon anyway to drop off a bunch of paperwork and have a chat with Tom. He’s the boss,” she explained to Arian.

  “You still in real estate?” Arian asked.

  “Sure am,” Harriet nodded with a smile. “I can’t imagine doing anything else really. I like being able to go out and about and come home whenever I want. I’ve been with clients this morning and then dropped home for lunch, but I want to go to the office anyway, so I can pick Lyddia up first. She can do some photocopying. It’s her favourite thing at the moment. And we can stop at the supermarket on the way home. Go on, take him inside. I’m sure it was you he came to see anyway, isn’t that right, Arian? And you’d like a cup of tea or something, wouldn’t you? Or do you only drink coffee now?”

  “Thank you, Mrs… Harriet.” Arian’s eyes twinkled as he smiled at Harriet, clearly pleased to conspire with her to force Harley’s hand. “If you’re sure, that’s okay. I’d love a good cup of tea.”

  At that moment, Toby reappeared with his ball. He stood in front of Arian, looking up at him and wagging his tail furiously.

  Arian chuckled. “Yeah, mate. Cool ball.”

  “He loves that ball and he’ll chase it as long as anyone will throw it for him,” Harriet laughed. “Go on, you two, go inside. I’ll be back in an hour or so, probably a bit longer. You can have a good catch-up, can’t you, Harley? Come on, darling,” she added, gently pushing her back inside and following her to collect her bag and keys. “Don’t keep your guest standing on the doorstep.”

  Almost without realising how it had happened, Harley found herself unexpectedly alone in the house with Arian and Toby as her mother drove out the drive, but the twinkle in Arian’s eyes had been replaced by a bemused frown as he turned to her. “Lyddia? Who’s Lyddia?”

  “My daughter,” Harley all but spat at him. “Not that that is any of your business. I don’t know what you are even doing here. I don’t remember inviting you.”

  Arian’s eyes narrowed. “Your daughter? When did that happen? How? Who? And it is my business, because I am making it my business. I’m making you my business. That’s why I’m here.”

  “I don’t have to answer your questions. I’m not a witness you can cross examine. I’m not on trial.” Not yet anyway.

  “Yes, that’s true,” Arian said, his shoulders dropping as he tilted his head to the side and nodded in agreement. “But here’s another question anyway…”

  “I’ve just said I’m not answering any questions,” Harley said angrily.

  “Dear me, Miss Snappy Pants, I was only going to ask about the tea your mum suggested. Come on,” he encouraged her, seeing her hesitate. “What harm can one cup of tea do? Oops, there I go, asking questions again. It seems we lawyers just can’t help ourselves.” He smiled disarmingly and Harley couldn’t help smiling back at his silliness.

  “Okay. I guess now that you’re here, you can have one quick cup of tea,” Harley said with a sigh of resignation turning away from him to walk into the kitchen. “And then you can leave. But no questions!”

  “Well, if you won’t answer any of my questions, how about I give you that spanking I promised you?” Arian said unexpectedly, catching her off guard as he followed her.

  Harley was suddenly very self-conscious of the incredibly short denim shorts she was wearing. Damn this changeable weather. The previous day had been cooler and she’d worn jeans, but now it was hot again and she’d put on shorts. They were cut off so high, they made no attempt to fully cover her bottom cheeks and, although she couldn’t see Arian, she guessed he was probably staring at the plump bulges spilling from the denim. He always had liked her bottom, watching it while she walked, squeezing it, spanking it. Her legs suddenly felt like they had turned to wood and had completely forgotten how to walk. Her knees couldn’t decide if they couldn’t bend at all or had turned to rubber and couldn’t hold her up. She urged them to take the last couple of steps so she could turn around and hide her tantalisingly-dressed behind from him.

  “Could you get the mugs, please?” she asked coolly, pointing to a low cupboard before filling the electric jug with water and switching it on.

  He grinned, realising immediately why she had asked. “Nah, I’m the guest. I think I’ll let you do it. I’ll just watch. Feel free to give that delightful wiggle while you’re bent over. But don’t blame me for the consequences.” Arian rubbed his hands together.

  In the past, the consequences of that wiggle had been him giving her cheekily available bottom a few hard smacks. If they’d had time, he would slip his arm around her waist and hold her down while he spanked her until she was squirming and reaching up to rub his erection. Then he would pull her to the bed, tumble her onto the couch, bend her over the kitchen bench or pull her onto the floor.

  The memory of those hot lovemaking sessions burned through her veins, and she had to push them away as she felt her breath quicken and her juices flow. While part of her longed to surrender herself to him the way she used to and present her upturned bottom to him now, she reminded herself of all the reasons she needed to keep her distance, not the least of which was his wife! She hadn’t forgotten about her even though Arian seemed to have done. She was shocked by his apparent disloyalty to the woman he’d married. Her teeth clamped together and her forehead burned. She wanted to punch him, but instead just turned away and bent her knees to lower herself to reach the cups.

  “Spoilsport,” he muttered with a grin. “You may be thinner than I remember, but your bottom is every bit as spankably delectable, or should that be delectably spankable, as it used to be. It’s a crime if it’s not being regularly spanked. Are you sure no-one is putting you over his knee?”

  “Of course not!” Harley said crossly. Her hand trembled as she poured boiling water on the teabags and avoided looking at him.

  “Why ‘of course not’? It is without doubt the most spankable bottom ever to be held up by two luscious legs, and its owner, unless she has changed radically since I knew her last, is very prone to committing spankable offences. Is it possible those delightfully wobbly cheeks that splat so deliciously when a hand connects with them and then turn the most glorious shade of cherry red have not been spanked in my absence? All the more reason it should get a thorough spanking for the way you’ve behaved since I got back–not to mention for before…” He gestured with his head to indicate he was talking about the more distant past.

  “Shut up, Arian. Any changes to the way you have your tea?” Harley asked, ignoring his questions but blushing the colour he’d just been talking about. “Black? Soy milk? Cow’s milk? Sugar?”

  “Splash of milk, any kind. No sugar. Thanks.”

  Harley finished making the tea and pushed one of the mugs towards him. She picked up the other, and then opened the sliding door and led him out onto the decking overlooking the garden and pool. Toby, who’d been lying on the floor watching them while Harley made the tea, jumped up with his ball and pushed his way out with them. As they sat at the table on the decking, he waited for a moment in case they changed their minds and headed down to the garden or, even better, the pool. When they didn’t he left them to it, trotting down the stairs and disappearing into some bushes.

  Harley and Arian sat for a moment without speaking, but not in the companionable silence of best friends and lovers as they had in the past–this one was heavy with unspoken questions, unaired grievances and unfinished business. Sensing he was about to speak, Harley decided to get in first so she could keep the conversation to comfortable, neutral topics.

  “How are your folks?” she asked.

  “They’re good. Still in the States. They weren’t really delighted with my decision to come home. Dad’s still working–I think he’ll work till he drops–and Mum wanted me to stay and help take some of the load off him.”

  “You didn�
�t want to work with him again?”

  “To be honest, and I couldn’t really ever talk to him about this, I hate that corporate wrangling and contract mumbo jumbo stuff he does. It was okay for a little while when I first went over, but I quickly got sick of it, as you know, and moved back to criminal law. And, since you were last there, I also started getting my teeth into human rights law. I honestly can’t imagine doing any more commercial law. But as long as I was nearby there always seemed to be pressure on me to go back. So, it was easier to move away. And I’ve never stopped thinking about Perth and coming back anyway.” He paused, looking seriously at her and reaching out to take hold of her hand. “For other reasons.”

  Harley suddenly felt hot and shaky. As awful as it was to imagine him married to someone else, it sickened her to think he’d cheat on his wife and worse that he thought she might too.

  “No, Arian. Let go of me,” Harley demanded, pulling her hand away. “For fuck’s sake. What would your wife say?”

  “Wife?” Arian looked at her in surprise, his face scrunched in bewilderment. “What wife? Why would you think I’m married?”

  “The newspaper… That article. A picture of you and your wife.” Harley’s face reflected her own utter confusion.

  Arian’s expression suddenly brightened, and he put his head back and laughed. “I know. That idiot journalist.” He laughed again. “So you saw the article about me arriving in Sydney with my ‘wife’?”

  Harley nodded, annoyed. “What’s so funny?”

  “I’m not married, Hal. I may not have been exactly a monk since you left me, but I have become more sure that the only woman I ever want to marry is you. And I don’t think Meg’s husband was very impressed to discover his wife had taken up polyandry.”

  “Then why…” Harley stammered still confused, her heart pounding.

  “It was just a case of a journalist putting one and one together and making three,” Arian said with a grin. “Meg and I were partners in the law firm in the States, and we happened to travel to Sydney on the same plane, but when the journalist heard that we were partners, it somehow got translated from law firm partners, not just into relationship partners–which we aren’t and have never been–but actual marriage partners.” He chuckled again, paused and looked at her seriously. “Honestly, Hal. It’s you I want. I always have. I don’t know how we drifted apart, or why you disappeared, but that’s a big part of why I’m back in Perth. I need some answers. I tried to prepare myself for the possibility that you might not be free, but you say there isn’t another man in your life?”

  Harley felt a sickening thud inside as his eyes locked on hers. Even after all this time and the mess she was now in, the memory of how much she had once loved the man sitting opposite her was enough to take her breath away. Six months ago, all she could dream about was being reconciled with him, getting a second chance. Now here he was apparently offering her one, and she couldn’t take it. She sipped her tea hoping he wouldn’t notice her trembling fingers, and turning her gaze away from him deliberately ignored his last remark as she tried desperately to swallow her rage.

  Arian reached down and picked up the ball that Toby, who’d finished his business in the bushes and come back up to join them on the decking, had dropped at his feet. He tossed it down onto the lawn and Toby raced after it.

  “You’ll be doing that for the rest of the afternoon,” Harley said drily to break the silence as Toby scooped up the ball and ran back to Arian, dropping the ball in front of him again. Arian threw it further so it disappeared into the bushes.

  “Maybe it will take him a while to find it,” he said with a laugh.

  “Tell me something about your work,” Harley asked quickly, needing the conversation to be back on neutral ground. “You’re doing criminal law in Perth? Or just focusing on human rights?”

  “I’m doing more criminal than human rights at present, but at least some human rights. That’s the field I’m trying to expand my work in.”

  “Mum showed me some articles a while back about a trial in the States where you defended that poor man wrongly accused of murder,” Harley encouraged him.

  “You mean Joe Henry?” Arian asked as he threw the ball for Toby again “It got so much coverage in Texas at the time, it doesn’t surprise me someone picked up on it here. Poor Joe,” he said, shaking his head. “He suffered a severe brain injury as a child, and although he sometimes appears to be functioning normally, his cognitive skills are actually badly impaired. His ability to remember and process new information is quite severely compromised, and he copes by agreeing with whatever is said to him because he doesn’t have the capacity to think about it.”

  “How did he wind up being charged with murder then?” Harley asked. “Here, Toby. Give me the ball this time.” Toby picked up the ball from next to Arian and dropped it in Harley’s lap. She threw it out into the garden and waited for Arian to answer.

  Arian took a drink of his tea and cupped his hands around his mug. “That’s actually a good question. To be honest, I put it down to overly-enthusiastic policing. Someone who knew Joe reported seeing him speaking to the woman, near where her body was found, shortly before she was murdered. The police interviewed him, and he ‘confessed’. But the case was very flimsy. They only had the one witness who said he’d seen him but couldn’t give any details like what he was wearing. Presumably the victim was speaking with a man, but there was no hard evidence it was Joe, or even the murderer. The police told him to plead guilty and he would be okay because he could plead diminished responsibility. Joe thought all he had to do was say he had done it, and they would let him go, so he signed the ‘confession’.”

  “That poor man,” Harley said. “Imagine if you hadn’t got him off. He could have spent his life in prison for a crime he didn’t commit.”

  “Not just prison; the death penalty was in play as well. Fortunately, I was able to convince the jury that Joe was actually nowhere near where the murder took place and it was a case of mistaken identity, and that he didn’t really understand what he was confessing to, or what the implications were. His diminished mental faculties attracted a number of high-profile activists who managed to get widespread media coverage in the States, and quite a bit of media exposure around the world including in Australia.

  “It was seen as an important case because it brought together a number of issues, such as the questioning of suspects by police and how confessions might be wrought, the treatment of people with special needs, and the question of balancing the need for justice for victims of crime against the danger of wrongful convictions.”

  “So, he was definitely innocent?” she asked when Arian had finished his story and was drinking the last of his tea. “Last one,” she said to Toby who was waiting for her to throw his ball again.

  “I think so,” Arian replied with a shrug. “He didn’t have a water-tight alibi, but I couldn’t really see how he could have been guilty, or even why he would have done anyone harm.”

  “Have you ever defended people you thought were guilty?”

  Arian paused for a moment before replying. “Sure, sometimes you have to. And I have also defended people I wasn’t absolutely sure were innocent. I mean, it was possible they were guilty, but it was also possible they were innocent.”

  “Don’t you think it’s wrong to help someone get off a charge if you think they’re guilty, though?”

  “Well, it’s not strictly my job to decide a person’s guilt or innocence. That’s what we have magistrates, judges and juries for,” Arian explained. “It’s my job to present the facts of the case in context with the law. If a lawyer believes a person is guilty and is going to be convicted, they will usually recommend the defendant plead guilty. Unless there is a technicality they can use to get the case thrown out.”

  “So you would defend someone if they could get off on a technicality even if you knew they were guilty?”

  “Actually, I prefer not to. Other lawyers are happy to do it and who a
m I to judge them? Law enforcers must be accountable too. Processes have been put in place to try and ensure the system is fair and equal for everyone. So, as a defence lawyer it is as much my role to ensure that the accused has been treated fairly and everyone has followed due process. In the case of Joe, there were definitely ‘mistakes’ shall we say made by the arresting officers which we probably could have used to get the charges dropped, but his family wanted his innocence established, and there was sufficient evidence to make that possible. It was still a gamble though, especially with him looking at a possible death penalty if found guilty. But should mistakes and malpractices by law enforcers be overlooked when other people’s freedoms and lives are at stake?”

  “I guess not,” Harley conceded. “No, Toby. Sit down now,” she said as Toby pushed her with his nose. “Look! What’s that?” she said, pointing at the fence. Toby looked up, and with a quick bark ran off to ensure there were no security breaches especially in the shape of the neighbour’s cat.

  “Anyway,” Arian continued. “I’m fortunate enough now to mostly have a choice about which clients I take on and which I refuse. In fact, I knocked one back today. A young guy on a crystal meth charge. He’ll get off, I’m pretty sure; the evidence is all circumstantial. In fact, I was surprised the police decided to prosecute him; they must know they will be very lucky to get a conviction. Maybe they’re just trying to scare him off selling drugs in the future by letting him know he’s being watched.”

  “Why didn’t you take it?” Harley asked, her voice little above a whisper. Hearing the strangeness of her tone, Arian shot her a look but she turned away so he was unable to read her expression. With his hands on the table, he pressed himself against the back of his chair, stretching his arms.

  “I don’t like drug cases, particularly when I’m pretty sure the person is guilty and I think this guy most likely is.” His voice was cold and without the compassion that had been evident when he was talking about Joe. “I shan’t be party to his getting the opportunity to go right back out onto the streets and continue plying his loathsome trade. I’d sooner see him in prison where he belongs.”