by K. L. Slater
When I turn on my monitor and log in, everyone seems very busy and yet there’s this kind of crackle in the air. As if I’m the last person to learn what’s happening between my husband and Joanne. I don’t know, maybe I’m imagining it.
While my emails are loading up, I open up the webinar and put in my earphones. Maybe if I can scan the legal updates, I can somehow blag my way through the meeting. Joanne is razor sharp, so she’ll know instantly that I haven’t done the required legwork, but I’d do well to remember that the reason I didn’t sleep well last night was because of her.
An internal message box flashes up on my screen.
To: Emma Barton
From: Joanne Dent
Emma, can you pop up soon as you get here pls.
I feel eyes burning into my back, and sure enough, when I turn quickly to glance around, everyone hurriedly looks back at their paperwork.
They know. They all know, I’m certain of it.
It feels like my skin is on fire. I push my chair back and stand up quickly, somehow knocking over the glass of water on my desk.
I stride over to the filing cabinet closest to me, snatch up the box of tissues next to a dusty pot plant and mop up the water as best I can. Fortunately it hasn’t touched the keyboard.
After binning the soggy tissues, I send my monitor to sleep and head out of the office and up the stairs to the second floor.
If I turn around now, I know they’ll all be staring open-mouthed, so I don’t. I don’t turn around; I just put one heavy foot in front of the other and propel myself closer and closer to Joanne Dent’s office.
Chapter Thirteen
‘Come in.’ Joanne’s clear voice rings out when I tap on her office door.
I step inside. She is bent over a document, marking it with vicious scrawls and lines. She doesn’t look up immediately.
Thunder roars in my head. The woman in front of me has deceived me, but she’s also my boss. Fury battles respect and respect wins through.
‘Morning, Joanne, you wanted to see me.’ I’m striving for a confident tone, but I’m painfully aware I miss the mark by a long way.
There is silence apart from the sound of her pen slashing through words on the page and the hum of the air-conditioning unit from its position above the door.
The room is cool, bordering on chilly, but Joanne has shed her smart jacket and is wearing a thin, silky blouse with sleeves that end on her slender, lightly tanned forearms.
‘There. That should do it.’ She lays down her pen and indicates one of the chairs opposite her desk. ‘Please. Sit down, Emma.’
I sit down and clasp my fingers together in front of me.
She looks at me. She’s giving nothing away.
‘I had a discussion with Shaun last night,’ I say. ‘He told me about the two of you.’
‘I see.’ There is a strange expression on her face, but no trace of regret.
‘It’s your business, of course. Shaun and I, we’re not together any more. I think I mentioned that in one of our one-to-one meetings.’ Her eyes widen slightly, as if she’s surprised at my candour. ‘We have agreed to physically stay together in the house for the time being, for Maisie’s sake, but we’ve called time on our marriage. We’ve grown apart, you see.’
My words falter. I can feel my cheeks burning and I am suddenly annoyed that I’m helping to justify the two of them together. It should be her who is trying to placate me.
But Joanne doesn’t offer me any platitudes or sympathetic noises. She just sits there, detached. Cold.
A sense of unfairness oozes into my chest. This is all Shaun’s fault.
‘I’d rather we get things in the open,’ I offer. ‘I don’t want it to affect my working here.’
‘If it makes it any easier, neither of us expected this to happen. It’s not ideal, granted. But Shaun and my relationship has nothing to do with your job, Emma. The two things are completely separate.’
Are they, though? She is in a position of power at work. She could make life very difficult for me if she chose to.
I don’t know what to say. Do I smile and act as if everything is OK, even though I’m personally furious at them both? Or do I tell her how I really feel?
She picks up her pen again and twiddles it in her fingers, looking thoughtful.
‘I have to say, it’s very bad timing.’ I can’t stop myself. ‘Our marriage is over, but my concern is Maisie. Shaun agreed that stability at home was key in making sure she didn’t suffer, and then I find out he’s been… seeing you.’
‘Obviously it’s difficult for me to comment on that.’ Joanne sighs and puts down her pen again.
‘Of course, but you must see he’s put me in an impossible position. We’d agreed a new arrangement, the criteria being that we do what is best for Maisie. But now I don’t see how our amicable relations, our arrangement, can continue.’
I clamp my mouth shut. Despite working quite closely with Joanne for the past couple of months since I qualified, I don’t really know anything about her personal life apart from that she has a daughter.
‘I hope you don’t mind me asking if a little bit of you hoped you two would eventually call a truce, give it another go?’
I’m taken aback by her forthright manner, but it’s obvious she feels relaxed enough to be frank with me, and I choose to take that as a good sign.
If their relationship is as serious as it sounds, I need to keep on civil terms with them both for Maisie’s sake.
‘Not at all,’ I say quickly, and I mean it. ‘I wish him well in his life, but my daughter and my career are my priorities now.’
She gives me a genuinely relieved smile.
‘I appreciate you coming to speak to me this morning, Emma. I admit it’s not an ideal situation, but you can’t always choose who you fall in love with.’
Fall in love? As far as I’m aware, they’ve only been seeing each other a couple of weeks!
‘You seem very serious about each other, given that it’s such early days.’
‘I know.’ She gives me a coquettish grin. ‘Neither of us expected it to happen so quickly, but rest assured, the girls are our priority. We will tread carefully, but it’s great they already know each other through dancing.’
‘Yes.’ My fingernails drive into my palms.
This is so weird. I just want to get out of her office.
‘Let’s agree now to put personal matters behind us in terms of the job.’ She leans back in her sumptuous cream leather padded chair.
‘Agreed.’ My shoulders drop an inch.
‘The reason I asked you to pop up here is that I have a couple of new cases beginning next week. If you’d like the experience and you’ve got a few hours spare, then I’m happy to bring you on board with them.’
‘Yes! I mean thanks, Joanne. That would be amazing.’ My cheeks flush a little when I realise I never gave her chance to say why she’d asked me up here in the first place. I’d simply assumed it was about Shaun.
I’ve never considered that anything remotely positive could come from this. She certainly didn’t have to offer me the work; usually the more experienced paralegals get the interesting stuff.
Maybe our complicated personal situation can work after all.
She pulls a stack of folders towards her. ‘OK, good. So, I want you to start by sifting through this lot, summaries of other similar cases from the national database. See if you can pick up any useful consistencies in terms of the circumstance and relevant outcomes.’
It’s the kind of job that would usually put me to sleep, but on this occasion, it makes me sit up in anticipation.
‘You’ll be working closely with me on this, and happily, as we’ve had a higher rate of new case enquiries since I’ve worked on raising our company profile, it’s possible you’re going to be in at the deep end work-wise.’
‘Music to my ears.’ Maisie’s face flits into my mind as I realise I’ll need Shaun’s support more than ever.
‘It won’t be a problem?’ Joanne says hesitantly. ‘Doing more hours… with your current personal circumstances, I mean?’
‘Not at all,’ I hear myself say. ‘Whatever it takes. I’ve got my mum and friends to call on any time I need help with Maisie.’
Friends? If only that were true.
I’ve never a huge friendship group, but prior to starting my paralegal qualification, I had two or three good friends I saw regularly.
With the pressures of work, studies and my failing marriage, they stopped asking to meet up after my repeated rejections, and just sort of faded away.
I’m starting to realise that’s what happens to relationships. If you forget to work on them, before you know it, they end up tailing off.
The twist is, my relationships with both Joanne and Shaun are key to my life. They both have a massive influence and I can’t afford to get on the wrong side of either of them.
In other words, I’m between a rock and a hard place and I have no choice but to make the best of the situation.
Chapter Fourteen
Back downstairs, a cluster of paralegals sit, apparently discussing paperwork, around one desk. As soon as I appear in the doorway, they stop talking and look up expectantly.
I paste a self-satisfied look on my face and make a big deal of plonking the armful of files Joanne gave me down on my desk.
‘No rest for the wicked, eh?’ I say, grinning over at them.
It was obviously my overactive imagination, thinking that everyone knew about Joanne and Shaun’s relationship. There’s no way they could know.
I busy myself clicking through emails, waiting for my heart rate to settle down. I can’t help feeling relieved that I’ve cleared the air with Joanne; regardless of my opinion on what’s happened, it wouldn’t do to get on the wrong side of her.
Last year, her PA of eleven years, Penny, failed to put an important regional meeting of legal professionals in her diary, resulting in Joanne being mortally embarrassed when the head of the SRA, the Solicitors Regulation Authority, called her personally to express his disappointment in her no-show.
The next day, Penny announced, very reluctantly, her decision to take early retirement from the company, and a week later, Anya was appointed.
So I consider myself lucky she’s held out the olive branch in terms of the job.
My phone lights up and I see it’s a text message from Shaun.
Hope everything OK at work. Can we talk tomorrow?
Joanne has confirmed my workload is going to be heavy with the addition of the new cases. Why should I let Shaun off the hook by asking him to move out? He can pull more than his weight to make up for what he’s done.
After ten minutes or so, I pick up my phone and text a reply.
Yes. We definitely need to talk.
And we will talk. Not about what he thinks, though.
Chapter Fifteen
Joanne
It had been a long time since Joanne had felt a force of attraction as strong as she’d felt with Shaun Barton. She thought those days were behind her.
But instead of feeling uncomfortable, she found herself welcoming the excitement, despite the awkwardness of the situation when it came to seeing Emma each day at the office.
After Shaun had appeared at work a couple of weeks ago, she’d initially ruled out meeting him for coffee. Even though her heart was saying otherwise, her head took control and she’d baulked at the fact that he was married to one of her employees. It was simply too complicated.
But then, when Emma had been so frank about her personal life, she’d inadvertently confirmed to Joanne that Shaun had indeed told her the truth.
Joanne had known then that she would contact him.
It was now late morning. The hours had whizzed by in very positive and exciting meetings with the other two partners, in which they’d discussed the encouraging trend in new business enquiries. Thanks to raising the company profile in various ways, including hosting the recent East Mids legal conference, the Walker, Dent and Scott name was fast becoming synonymous with quality, good-value legal advice and support, and winning the last few cases had enhanced their reputation.
Although Joanne had contributed enthusiastically to the meetings that day, she wasn’t able to give the other partners her complete and undivided attention. An undercurrent of excitement flowed through the afternoon, filling her with a delicious anticipation she hadn’t felt for years.
Just thinking about Shaun’s strong, wide shoulders and his fresh, citrusy smell made the entire surface of her skin buzz. Back in her own office now, she pulled a pile of documents towards her and picked up her silver Montblanc pen, trying to push thoughts of him from her mind. Sadly, it seemed she was too late: her focus on the mountain of paperwork she had to read through and sign during the morning was now non-existent.
She sipped the coffee Anya had just placed on her desk and allowed herself the luxury of thinking back to the morning she’d decided she would meet Shaun after all.
She’d opened the slim top drawer of her desk and retrieved his business card, tapping his mobile number into her phone.
‘Shaun Barton.’
His voice sounded deep and smooth when he answered the call, and her heartbeat seemed to relocate into her throat.
She opened her mouth to speak and found that her usual stoic, professional telephone manner had simply evaporated. Instead, she found herself stammering like a nervous schoolgirl.
‘Hi… it’s Joanne Dent. I… I’m ringing to say if your offer of coffee is still open, then… well, I’d love to.’
‘Fantastic,’ Shaun chuckled, as if he’d expected her to call back all along. ‘Can we make it today? After work?’
He named a time and suggested Roast, a trendy local coffee bar that specialised in fair-trade South American beans. She’d been wanting to try the coffee there for ages.
She paused to gather herself.
‘Sounds perfect,’ she replied coolly, secretly delighted he wanted to meet so soon. ‘I look forward to it.’
She’d left the office an hour early, telling Anya that the wisdom tooth she’d had so much trouble with last year was grumbling again.
‘I’ve managed to get a cancellation at the dentist. Can you cancel my four o’clock appointment?’
She silently thanked her lucky stars Piper was still away on her school trip.
She didn’t make a habit of letting clients down at short notice, but she wouldn’t be able to concentrate if she stayed. Besides, she wanted to freshen up at home. She couldn’t change her clothes – Shaun had seen her already that morning, and it wouldn’t do for her to look as though she had changed specifically to impress him – but she could certainly spruce up her hair and refresh her minimal make-up; she never brought much with her to work in that regard.
She darted out of the building before one of the other partners thought of something vital for her to look at before she left.
The journey was blissfully quiet in the middle of the afternoon compared to her usual rush-hour battle at the end of the day.
Home was a two-bedroom flat in a leafy village, usually around a twenty-minute drive from the Walker, Dent and Scott offices in the city centre. Today, courtesy of leaving so early, she managed to do it easily in ten.
She aimed a remote fob as she drew close, and the electric gates opened, allowing her to smoothly turn her Mercedes SLK onto the long, tree-lined driveway that led up to Linby House.
At the top of the driveway, the wide tyres of the sports car crunched on gravel as she parked in her reserved spot next to the fountain.
She grabbed her handbag as she got out of the car, marvelling at how unencumbered she felt without armfuls of case files to lug upstairs. She was reminded that there was once a time when she had had more in her life than simply work. There it was again: the past she was trying hard to bury.
As she approached the red-brick building, she admired the domed turret and decorative brickwork of the Victori
an house.
She had bought the penthouse apartment two and a half years ago. Penthouse was probably a bit too grand a word, but it was true enough that the flat did take up the whole of the top floor of the house, and she enjoyed the use of a larger balcony than the other five flats on the lower floors, which afforded her lovely views of the surrounding fields and woodland.
When she and Piper first moved here, Joanne had envisaged the two of them enjoying relaxed barbecues on the covered balcony during finer weather. It hadn’t quite turned out like that.
Piper got bored easily with no television or computer to keep her attention. She took to wolfing down her food and swiftly disappearing back inside, leaving Joanne feeling all too aware she had no special someone to share her life with any more.
However many magazine articles she read extolling the benefits of being single and living alone, it didn’t make sitting on your own watching the sunset with a glass of wine any less lonely.
She and Piper were close, of course they were. But Joanne was painfully aware that the child could not – and should not be expected to – fill the aching gap inside her.
Five years ago, she had made a pact with herself that she wouldn’t begin a new romantic relationship for at least ten years.
The ten years bit hadn’t been a period of time plucked out of thin air. Joanne had taken time to consider all eventualities and had consequently calculated it carefully.
Five years was enough time for things to still feel real and raw. She frequently awoke with a racing heart and skin clammy enough to dampen the sheet beneath her.
Five years was still a relatively short length of time for someone determined enough to dig around in her past and find a wealth of information.
Conversely, ten years seemed like a lifetime away; long enough for memories to fade, a good enough chunk of time for people to move away and forget the sharp detail of what had happened back then. Ten years was long enough to build a successful career, meaning she and her daughter would be financially secure.
