by Neil Wild
“Look,” he said.” Can you give me until after the case to decide. I don’t think it’ll be long now – that is if we’re successful. Can I think about things and let you know then. I won’t go suddenly. If I do decide to leave, I’ll give you three months notice. Is that O.K.?
Mortimer smiled a little grimly. “Well, it will be if we can find someone within three months, so let’s hope that it won’t be necessary.”
“Thanks.”
“No, thank you.” Said Ridley.
“That’s right” said Mortimer. “You’ve been help in our hour our of need.”
Brakespeare smiled, more with relief than at what they were saying. “I do appreciate your offer. I’m sure that you’ll appreciate that my domestic situation is – well it’s something I need to think about.”
“Of course.”
Was Mortimer’s smile a knowing one?
“Thanks.”
Brakespeare left the room with much relief and a light step. He started to go to his own room, and then thought of Lisa. Was now the time to confront her? What was her attitude going to be towards him? The trouble was if he left matters and neither of them said anything, then tension would build up even more between them. That would affect work and the case. If their personal relationship was at an end, then they still needed to have a working relationship.
He decided to see her and climbed the stairs to the attic room in trepidation..
chapter thirty eight
He knocked on the half open door of her office and went in. Lisa was busy at her computer and he could see that she was working with the skeleton argument.
“Hello” she said, a trifle too brightly.
Brakespeare sat down on an adjacent chair.
“Is there something that you want to tell me?”
She looked blankly at him.
“I’ve just been talking to Bill and Dick. They say that you’ve handed your notice in.”
“Oh, that.” Lisa looked awkward and pretended to shuffle her papers.
“ I thought that you might have told me?”
She put her head on one side and looked at him.
“Why?”
“The Minge Lane Partnership?”
Lisa just nodded gently, and looked down. Then she stood up and picked up the skeleton argument.
“They told me not to tell you.”
“Who did.”
“Well Bill did. He said that it would affect your position, and he wanted to tell you first.”
She shot him a glance as she walked over to her filing cabinet.
“It has affected my position. they want me to stay on because you’re leaving.”
“I don’t think my leaving has anything to do with it Jonny. They need you, with me or without me.”
Was this the time to say that he needed her too; an ambiguous statement to make? She was clearly waiting for him to make the next move in the relationship.
“Why so sudden. I know that you said that you wanted to go to the Bar, but why now. What happened?”
Lisa put the papers carefully into a file; closed the cabinet drawer and sat down again.
“I went to see Rosie Lappin?”
“You did what? When?”
“Yesterday afternoon.” She laughed gently. ”It was my fault at lunch. I never thought to ask you if there might be someone else before. I should have. Then I realised after you spoke with that fat Irishman that you might not stay here, but go back to Birmingham, and so I decided that I had better do something for myself – and quickly. I like Rosie. She’s a down to earth straightforward, no-nonsense – whatever you want to call it sort of person, and so after I left you at the Solicitors Regulation Authority, I went back to her Chambers and asked to see her.”
“And she saw you?”
“Why not? At first I think she thought that it was something to do with David’s case, but I told her straight away that it was a personal matter, and could she help me? I had only intended to ask her what it was like being a woman at the Bar, but, to cut a long story short, she let me sit in on a conference she was having on another case.” She laughed, “She told the solicitors that I was on a mini pupillage, and asked did they mind if I sat in? They didn’t really have much choice! She asked me what I thought on a few points as the conference progressed. I was terrified, but I just tried to remember all that I had learned at University – I tried to guess what you would say.” She softened, “I tried to think how you would think. You’ve taught me a lot, Jonny.”
They gazed at each other, then Lisa sat back.
“After the conference, she said that she thought that I had been excellent. She had liked what I had done on David’s case, and the bottom line is that she asked if I would like to be her pupil.”
Brakespeare was astounded. “Do you know that there’s literally hundreds of people applying for pupillages at the Bar?”
“She said that, but she also said that they are usually straight out of University, full of ideas and self importance, but without a clue as to what life is like. She thought that with my experience – here - I would do well. So you see, it’s a chance I couldn’t turn down.”
“I see. Well what can I say but well done. I shall miss you, but well done.”
He stood up and held his arms out towards her. She came round the desk and melted into them. She put her head on his shoulder as he hugged her.
She pulled her head back. “Thanks for everything Jonny. We nearly got there; but I owe your bladder a debt of gratitude?”
“Sorry?”
“Jonny, if we hadn’t been interrupted by..” She pointed through the floor to where Mortimer’s room was. ”I would have become totally hooked and dependant on you.” She looked him straight in the eye. “I don’t think that it would have lasted; not if there is someone else. You would have had to choose, and I’m not certain that the choice would be me.”
If she wanted a reaction from Brakespeare, she wasn’t going to get one.
“Now, I’ve realised it’s down to me to make my way in the world. Yesterday was the first step.”
“And the Minge Lane Partnership?”
“That’s down to you Mr. Brakespeare,” she said, separating from him, and moving behind her desk. “Two jobs to choose from; two women to choose from. You’re on Trial!”
Thank God she doesn’t know it’s three women, thought Brakespeare.
chapter thirty nine
Brakespeare took the motorway route home that weekend. He was desperate to see Mel. The simple uncomplicated relationship he had with her was a welcome alternative to the contortions of his relationship with Lisa, although he suspected that if that relationship had been consummated, then things would have become a lot simpler between them..
Then there was Sophie. He hadn’t thought about her much during the week. In truth he hadn’t wanted to think about her. She was there if he wanted her, that she had made clear, but it would be literally and metaphorically like returning home. Did he really want to do that? Occasionally, thoughts of what they once were interested him, but she had hurt him an awful lot. He would have had a permanent home wherever he was working but for her.
No, Mel was the one he now wanted to see. The loving, comforting, but undemanding brown girl. Sure enough as he pulled into his driveway, she was there. As he got out of the car she jumped up and down and waved yet another piece of paper. What was it about Fridays?
“I got them, I got them.”
“Got what?” he went towards her to kiss her. Instead she leaped and him and hugged him.
“I got the children.”
“You have? That’s great news.” But he didn’t really mean it. His sixth sense told him that things were about to change, and with it what security Mel gave him.
She led him inside. Trevor and the new lodger, Martin who he had not seen much of were there; one in the kitchen and one watching the regional television news in the lounge. He said “Hello” to both of them, and followed Mel upstairs to his roo
m. His room? For the past few weeks it had been their room. Mel had feminised it; it smelt of her perfumes and beauty preparations, and was neat and clean.
Brakespeare dumped his case on the floor, and sat down on the bed with her.
“Look. It’s a letter from his solicitors, to my solicitor, saying I can have the kids. He’s also going to sell the house and let me have the contents.”
“Why don’t you move into the house.”
“Can’t afford. He ain’t been paying the mortgage and there’s precious little left in it.!”
“Why all this suddenly.”
Mel roared with laughter. “He been humping a white girl. Says she’s a blonde but I reckon that’s only what it says on the bottle! He’s got her in the club – three months gone; so he wants to shack up with her. She got her own house and her own business – she’s a hair dresser, but she don’t want my kids. He’s also going to let me divorce him on account of her.”
“So it’s all happening for you?”
“And that ain’t all. I found somewhere to live. A private landlord.”
“Things are moving fast.” Brakespeare spoke his thoughts.
“Lover boy has agreed to pay the deposit and the first months rent.” She leaned close to him. ”I got the keys already.” She squeaked with excitement.
A feeling of dread came over Brakespeare.
“When do you plan to move in?”
“Tomorrow”
“Tomorrow?!”
“Lover boy has hired a van and is bringing the furniture up. I’m going down to collect the kids. This time tomorrow, I’ll have a roof over my head - and the kids.”
“But you’ve got a roof over your head.”
Mel put her arm round him. “But I ain’t got my kids Jonny Brakespeare.” She looked at him to guage his reaction, and then put her head against his. “And I ain’t got you. I only got part of you.”
There was nothing Brakespeare could say. She was right.
Mel sat back. “That wife of yours been round again. She keeps aksing why there’s no phone here, and what your number is in Worcester. I told her, ‘he don’t even tell me that!’”
“What does she want?” asked Brakespeare dully.
“You can’t see the kids on Sunday.”
“What?”
“Calm down. Seems they’ve been invited to a birthday party at the last minute. She aksed if you can see them tomorrow instead.”
“Oh.”
“I shan’t be here Jonny.” Mel said softly. ”I ain’t leaving you, but I’ve got a home all of my own now, and that’s important to me.”
Brakespeare looked at her. “I know it is. Sorry. Well done.” And he embraced her, kissing her passionately. Mel responded and sighed as he fondled her beasts.
“No, you can’t have that. Mr Monthly has arrived. I’m strictly off limits this weekend.”
“Fuck!”
“That’s definitely off the menu.”
Brakespeare sighed and smiled ruefully. “Not my weekend is it?”
“Why not, you get to see your kids. Jonny, you got to keep away from me just a little. Just while the divorce goes through. He don’t ask any questions about where I am or who I’m living with, but if you keeps coming round to see me too often, and meet the kids, it’ll get back to him, and he might change his mind on things. Now you don’t want to be mixed up in my divorce do you?”
Brakespeare shook his head. His professional experience told him that things would follow a common pattern. Husband either caught red handed or wanting to start a new life happily pays up whatever is necessary to get rid of existing wife. Wife does exactly what husband has done, and finds someone else. Husband doesn’t like it; becomes jealous, and tries to upset the financial settlement.
“I’ll come and see you here, if you like. If I can get a baby sitter.” She added. “That won’t change. We’ll be the same as we’ve ever been. Course if you and your wife get back together?”
“Will that change things.”
Mel smiled and shook her head. “Not if you don’t want it to. We can carry on as long as…. Well.” She didn’t have to finish her sentence. Brakespeare knew exactly what she meant. Their relationship, created out of their mutual insecurities and needs was never destined to be a long term one.
“O.K” he said resignedly. “I’ll call her at her parents on my mobile. Then I’ll have a shower…”
“And you can take me out for a meal on our last night alone together” She roared with laughter again. “I tell you Jonny Brakespeare, with them kids around, your supply of sex is gonna be strictly rationed!”
Brakespeare went out to his car to make the call. If the kids had bee invited to a birthday party, then so be it, but if Sophie was starting to play games, as it was not unknown for disgruntled wives to do…
“Hello, Jonny.” She said when she picked up the phone. “I’m sorry, but if I had a number for you, I would have called earlier. Has Mel explained?” She said it matter of factly as if Mel held some formal status in his life.
“She said that the kids had been invited to a birthday party.”
“Yes, one of their friends is having a last minute one at McDonalds on Sunday, and they do so want to go.”
“O.K.”
“But they do so want to see you, as well.” She hesitated. “Mummy and Daddy are away this weekend, you could come round tomorrow.”
“I see.”
“In fact, Jonny, you could stay with us over the weekend if you want to. The kids would love it.”
A trap. On the other hand the thought of being with the kids in a house over a weekend, so that he didn’t continually have to traipse them around while thinking of things to do to entertain them, would be good. They would make their own amusements, and not demand constant attention.
Then there was Sophie. He would have to talk to her. Why didn’t he want to? Was it his pride and self esteem that was at stake? Would he be losing face with himself if he did renew his relationship with her. Of course it didn’t have to be a sexual relationship. She was never great between the sheets. He hadn’t known that of course until he had met Mel. Mel set the benchmark. But Mel was not going to be so readily available.
“O.K., let’s give it a try. What time shall I come round?”
“Whenever you like. You can come round now if you wish and help put the kids to bed.”
“No, not tonight.” Why not let her have it straight? “I’m taking Mel out for a meal.”
“I thought that you might”. Replied Sophie evenly.
“Say about 11 o’clock tomorrow?
“Thanks, Jonny.” Said Sophie.
Brakespeare was in pensive mood that evening. Mel did her best to cheer him up and regaled him with continuous banter, but he was not receptive to it. He took her to the Bekash Restaurant in Stony Stratford. It was surprisingly quiet for a Friday night. Usually he tucked into a full three course meal, but this evening it was down to Mel to demolish as much of the delicious, spicy food as she could. For someone with as slim a figure as Mel had, it was amazing how much she could eat band not put weight on.
As they curled up in bed for what might be the last time, Brakespeare’s thoughts were far away from the bedroom. They ranged between what the next day had in store for him. He thought of Lisa. She was there waiting, but…….
For a start he didn’t know where he was going to be working or living, and he certainly didn’t want to follow her to London. Birmingham would be too far for her to commute, and Worcester even more so.
Then there were the kids.
Mel softly interrupted his thoughts. “Jonny, just remember one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“I ain’t in love with you. But I love you.” And she kissed him before she drifted off to sleep with her face contentedly against his.
chapter forty
The next day went very quickly for Brakespeare. Mel was up early to catch the train to Watford to collect her children. Brakespeare too
k her to the station. She half cried as she got out of the car. “See you soon.” she promised.
He arrived on time at Sophie’s parents large house just off Pattison Lane, Woolstone. He liked to be neither early nor late. The two girls were extremely excited, and on their best behaviour. They had obviously been told to ‘be nice to Daddy.’
Sophie had cooked lunch. They walked up to Willen Lake and back; they had tea, they watched television. The Christmas games were brought out and played out of season, and then it was time for their bed. The time that Brakespeare had been dreading.
He sat on the sofa, wondering whether to leave. He had not brought an overnight bag with him as he had not wished to commit himself.
Sophie brought him a glass of whisky and soda, which surprised him, as her father did not drink. She must have been out and bought it. More surprisingly, she had poured a glass for herself. He had never known her drink Whisky before. Perhaps she had acquired the habit after their separation. Perhaps, like him, she needed some Dutch courage.
“Cheers.” He said, raising his glass.
“Cheers.” Sophie replied and clinked her glass against his. “That was a lovely day, thanks, Jonny. The kids really love having you around.”
“I never went away. You took them away.”
Sophie hung her head. “I know that, but do we have to talk about it. Can’t we bury the past and talk about the future?”
Brakespeare didn’t reply. The future was an unknown. A complicated unknown which he was unable to resolve. Sophie took a gulp from her glass. He noticed that she tried not to pull a face. She was doing it for him.
Sophie lent against him. “It’s nine o’clock. Are you staying?”
“Where?”
“With me?” She leaned forward and turned to him. “Come on let’s try.”
“OK.” He said after a hesitation.
She finished her glass with a gulp and a cough, and put it down.
