by Helen Fields
‘You’ve never felt like that?’ he asked.
‘No. I don’t think I have enough faith in the human race to let myself feel like that. What about you?’
‘A couple of near misses, but at the last minute I found I couldn’t compromise on someone who just ticked most of my boxes. I don’t mean I’m looking for the perfect woman, just the woman who fits perfectly with me.’
‘That being?’
‘I don’t have a list; just the stuff that matters to me has to matter to them. I don’t care if someone can’t cook if they are interested in what’s going on in the world. I’d rather spend a weekend in a grotty cottage in the middle of nowhere with people I like than lounging on a yacht in Monaco with ‘the right set’. I can’t stand women who have to put on makeup to come down for breakfast. I adore women who say what they mean without worrying what everyone else will think. I do have a bit of a thing about slim ankles, but that’s just cosmetic.’ I giggled.
‘That doesn’t sound like too much to ask.’ I put down my coffee cup.
‘It shouldn’t be so complicated, but the sort of women I meet at parties and work all seem to be scoring points and stepping up the social ladder.'
‘You’re either very complex or very simple. I’m not sure which yet.’ I smiled at him.
‘Do you want to find out?’ The atmosphere changed. He was looking me straight in the eyes waiting for an answer.
‘I want not to mess things up with Tim and Naomi and all our friendships.’ I said, completely honest for once.
‘Then don’t.’ He put his coffee cup on the table and moved to my end of the sofa. My stomach flipped as he slid his hand around my neck and I felt his fingers stroke my nape. A tingling sensation ran down my back to the base of my spine. I couldn’t help but breathe a little faster, even if I was trying to hide it. My lips parted as he pulled my head gently forward to his. When he kissed me I felt as if I had slipped into a warm bath. My whole body heated up and when he slowly probed my mouth with his tongue I let out an involuntary gasp and grabbed at his shirt. I pressed myself into his mouth and returned the kiss. He slid his free arm around my waist and I let myself be crushed into his chest. His fingers scratched my skin and I ran my hand up his chest to undo his shirt. One of his hands came to meet mine and stopped me undressing him.
‘What is it?’ I asked. ‘Is something wrong?’
‘No, nothing’s wrong. I just don’t want to do this when you’ve been drinking. I don’t mean you’re drunk, I just know what a dreadful time you’ve had and I feel like I’m taking advantage.’
‘You’re not and I know you wouldn’t.’
‘This matters to me. I want you more than you could possibly know but I don’t want you to spend tomorrow figuring out how to let me down gently.’ I couldn’t speak. My body was in that post-adrenalin moment between pleasure and pain. I knew he was right and that I should let him go but I didn’t want to. I really, really didn’t want to. He stood up, closing the buttons I’d already opened at the top of his shirt as I regained my senses.
He picked up the coffee cups and took them into the kitchen. I smiled at his thoughtfulness and stood as he came back into the lounge.
‘I’d better go.’
‘Thank you for a wonderful evening,’ I said as we walked to the front door. ‘Thank you for driving and for being so sweet.’
‘Don’t call me sweet,’ he whispered. ‘That’s not how I want you to think of me.’
‘I guess I’ll have to find that out some other time,’ I said. Determined not to let him leave without a farewell kiss I pushed my body against his and raised my face. I was being wanton and he felt it. I let my head back as he kissed me and felt him harden when he pushed towards me. I finally pulled away and he swore under his breath. I smiled. I knew I was behaving badly but for the first time in a long time I felt the exhilaration of being out of control. He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, drew his thumb along my lower lip, then left. I pushed the door closed behind him, turned and let my back fall against it, my legs shaking. In trying to show him what he was missing I’d only succeeded in frustrating myself. I decided to remedy things with a cold shower, not least to help dissipate the remnant of the gin. He was an exceptional man. There weren’t many who would leave in the midst of so obvious an opportunity. I didn’t doubt that his motives were genuine. I ran my hand through my hair and breathed out hard. Shower and sleep would be an excellent idea.
I started the shower on a cold setting, found it more painful than bracing, resorted to my usual temperature and scrubbed off the evening’s makeup. As I was beginning to feel normal again the doorbell rang. It was after midnight; Naomi must have decided to come home and look after me, probably leaving her key at Tim’s. I wrapped a towel around myself, hair dripping down my back.
‘Okay, I’m coming. Hold on.’ I pulled the door open without looking through the security peephole.
‘Do you always open the door wearing so few clothes?’ Nate looked amused.
‘I assumed it was Naomi.’
‘I tried to leave. I sat in the car for fifteen minutes. I told myself that doing this tonight was a huge mistake. Tell me go home.’ I giggled, as I always do when I have no idea of what I ought to say. That was all the response he needed.
He walked through the door, slamming it shut behind him with his heel. I took a step backwards, ending up with my back against the wall and Nate pinning me to it in a way I wasn’t a bit sorry about. When his lips ground down on mine I reached straight for his shirt and continued where I’d left off. Doing it one handed was clumsy but I’d still undone all the buttons before he carried me into the bedroom. As Nate laid me on the bed the towel, more hindrance than help, fell loose and slipped away. I didn’t pull it back; things were too far gone to pretend coyness. Nate stared down at my body in the glow of the streetlight. He trailed his hand slowly down from my shoulder, so lightly brushing my breast that I could barely feel his touch, then tracing a line from my belly button to the tops of my legs. He looked me straight in the eyes and purposefully lowered his face to kiss me again as his fingers dipped between my legs. I raised my hips to meet his fingers and he shifted his body to the side of me so that he could slide the flat of his thumb onto my clitoris, making little circles that made my whole body buzz.
I ran my tongue across his chest, grazing my teeth against his nipple. He groaned and I enjoyed the thrill of making another person lose control. I undid his jeans and he kicked them on off without losing a beat. When he moved on top of me I opened my legs for him without hesitating.
‘You’re sure?’ he breathed heavily.
‘Do you need me to convince you?’ I replied and wrapped my legs around him so that he had only to lower himself inside me. When he did our bodies went into a rhythm of push and pull. I knew he was holding back, willing me to come and whilst I knew I wouldn’t be able to I didn’t want to ruin the moment for him. Rather than act out a lie, I thrust my hips harder at him, pushing my nails into his shoulders and grinding my body into his. He bit my neck as he came, shuddering, his face buried in my hair. As he relaxed, he raised his head and looked a little sheepish.
‘I’m sorry, I just couldn’t hold on any longer.’
‘I thought we had a ban on apologies tonight,’ I said and kissed him again, more gently.
He kept his arms wrapped around me and I appreciated the warmth. He showed no sign of leaving and I didn’t want him to. In so many ways he was perfect for me. With a whisper of goodnight we slept. The next morning there were none of the awkward silences I always dread. He was up and showered before I woke and brought me coffee. I wondered what sort of sight I must have been but the smile on his face said he didn’t care. I sat up and yawned, it was only ten o’clock.
‘I’m playing rugby today. Wish I didn’t have to go.’
‘Well, I can’t keep you to myself forever, can I?’
‘Now there’s a thought.’ He pulled his clothes on and sat on the edge of the b
ed next to me. ‘So, no regrets?’ He stroked my shoulder and I thought how easy it would be to fall in love with him.
‘Only that you have to go. Then again, Naomi will be home in about two hours and I think it best we don’t let this slip yet.’
‘You’re worried they’ll have us paired off and married before you can run away screaming in the opposite direction?’
I appreciated both his insight and the sense of humour with which he delivered it. ‘Something like that. I need to manage expectations a little. Could we…’
‘Keep this quiet for a while? It’s okay, I understand.’ He checked his watch. ‘I should already be gone. Can I persuade you to sneak out for dinner one night this week? I promise not to tell anyone.’
‘Sounds ideal. I would offer to cook but you really wouldn’t enjoy the experience. I’ll call you tomorrow and let you know when’s good.’
I went to kiss him goodbye on the cheek. ‘Don’t you dare,’ he said and pulled my mouth towards his. ‘Now I really am leaving and this time I’m determined to start the car engine. Bye Eve.’
The day passed in a haze. I had to actively avoid Naomi so I didn’t give anything away. She checked that I wasn’t too hung over and then went into chambers to catch up on some paper work. I finally got around to some domestic chores; washing, ironing, and vacuuming. It gave me time to consider how I felt about the adoption. I could see it from my parents’ perspective. How do you tell a child they’re adopted? They had already lost one daughter. Why would they want to risk another? I thought about the right age to do it – too soon and you undermine a child’s stability, too late and you shatter trust with the revelation of a lie.
I wondered if some part of me, deep down, had known something was wrong and wilfully ignored the signs. There was my hair of course, unlike either of my parents’, but that’s not uncommon. They were obsessed with order and routine when I would flit from here to there with no thought of consequences. Isn’t that the same with every child? I hadn’t had the sort of relationship with my mother that some of my friends had and I’d felt jealous listening to stories of girly shopping trips with ‘mum’. I phoned her regularly after my father passed away but she wasn’t the sort to linger making small talk. The truth is that, as much as I’d like to be able to claim some sixth sense about the situation, I had none. Perhaps that’s what made it all the more of a shock.
I tried to picture my biological parents. I had some romantic notion that my mother had the same long red hair as me and that my father was tall and strapping. Perhaps they owned a little farm up in the mountains although I knew the reality of families who had to give up their children for adoption was often a lot less picturesque. I scanned the documents from my mother’s file so I could email them to Patrick. My head clearer, I took a walk along the river for some fresh air until Naomi got back. It was easier than I thought not to tell her about Nate. Happily, it was more to do with enjoying the secret than because I didn’t want her to find out. I contemplated dinner with him that week and found I was already counting down the days. Perhaps things were going to get better, after all.
Seven
Monday morning I was at the Court Martial in Colchester. Albert and I were discussing what would happen at the preliminary hearing. He would enter his ‘not guilty’ plea and the Judge would make directions for the trial, fix a date for it and order any outstanding documents we wanted from the prosecution. As I walked through the building to find the court clerk I glanced into the prosecutor’s room and was disappointed to see Marcus Brandt straightening his wig in the mirror. He caught my eye so I opened the door to say good morning.
‘Marcus. Which case are you here for?’
‘The rapist. Is Cornish one of yours then?’
‘Alleged rapist, thank you. If you’d read the correspondence you would already know that he’s one of mine. Can we agree trial directions?’
‘Oh, darling, you have to be joking! You don’t seriously think you can win this one. Anyone with half a brain would persuade their client to plead and get some time off their sentence for admitting it early.’
‘Don’t lecture me on sentencing and don’t call me darling. The point about pleading is that you only do it if you’ve committed the offence. Albert Cornish is not guilty and he will plead not guilty. At least my only having half a brain will make it easier for you to win, won’t it?’ I stalked out of the room, furious for letting him get to me. Marcus and I were old adversaries. We were a fair match for each other as far as our advocacy skills were concerned but in every other way we were poles apart. He’s one of those people who believe the class system should dictate who can enter blue chip professions. He certainly thinks females should be at home having babies instead of working as barristers. He’s also convinced that he’s irresistible to women so when I turned down his offer of dinner a couple of years ago I made a bad enemy. He is short for a man at only five foot five inches which makes him overcompensate with the size of his ego. The truth is that he needed not just one lesson but an entire schooling in humility. I hoped our on-going war wouldn’t make things even worse for Albert and knew that I’d need to play it exactly right with the Judge. I put on my wig and prepared for battle.
‘Miss MacKenzie. Is your client ready to enter his plea?’
‘Yes, Your Honour.’ Albert heard the charge read out and replied with ‘Not Guilty.’ We settled to the task of agreeing directions. The only witnesses I required were Angela Smyth, the doctor who saw her on arrival at the hospital and the security guard at the Dragon’s Cave.
Marcus stood up to make his usual over the top fuss. ‘Really, Your Honour. I don’t see how the security guard is going to be able to help; Miss MacKenzie has his statement. It will mean flying him out from Slovakia. At least both the victim and the doctor are members of the armed forces serving in the UK.’
‘Your Honour, I have the right to question any witness relied upon by the prosecution.’
‘Yes, but it might be helpful Miss MacKenzie to know exactly what areas of his statement are in dispute. I can understand why Mr Brandt doesn’t want to go to the expense of flying a witness out from Slovakia.’ I hesitated. I hadn’t wanted to give my line of questioning away, knowing that Marcus would take advantage of anything I let slip. Still, I had to answer the Judge; there was no point in alienating him.
‘Your Honour, there are issues about how the entrance to the cave came to be open at night…’ Marcus was on his feet to chip in before I could finish my sentence.
‘…Which cannot possibly be relevant to whether or not the offence was committed.’
‘Shall we allow Miss MacKenzie to finish and then perhaps you’d like to add your comments afterwards?’ the Judge said kindly.
‘I’m obliged,’ I murmured. ‘There are also issues about the existence of CCTV cameras in the vicinity. Finally there is the physical state of the cave; there will be some important questions about the interior which the security guard will be able to answer impartially.’
Marcus may be vicious and egotistical but he’s nobody’s fool. He went in with a line of attack that I simply didn’t see coming.
‘If there are issues about the interior of the cave that are vital to the defence then perhaps we all ought to have an opportunity to visit the location together.’ Marcus smiled as if he’d won a prize. He’d obviously heard what I’d been through on my last trip to Poland and was banking on me feeling unable to go back. I would either have to change my line of questioning or drop out of the case. I was caught between the devil and the deep blue sea and I knew which one Marcus Brandt reminded me of. It was a dirty trick.
‘Your Honour,’ I spoke slowly, having to think on my feet. ‘I’ve just been on a site visit. If it assists the Court, I have asked my instructing solicitors to obtain photographic evidence as to the layout and interior of the cave. I’m not sure I need to go back or that Your Honour needs to be troubled with a site visit for this case.’
The Judge paused for a mome
nt while he thought it over. ‘Do the issues relating to the cave have a serious bearing on your defence?’
I couldn’t evade that one. ‘They do.’
‘Then I’m afraid that Mr Brandt is right, Miss MacKenzie. I will need to have both of you in attendance. The photographer can visit at the same time and we can use the photos for the hearing when we return. It’s too serious a case not to visit the scene if it’s relevant. I shall adjourn the Court for a few minutes whilst the clerk telephones both your chambers to see what the earliest available date is for us to visit Krakow.’ We bowed as the Judge left the courtroom. Albert was escorted out for a restroom break while I pretended to busy myself with my papers.
‘Eve, I should have said how sorry I am to have heard about that dreadful train crash. I saw the footage on the news. Bodies ripped limb from limb, I gather some of the passengers are having to be identified from dental records. You can’t relish the thought of going back out there. I’m sorry I had to ask but we each have our duty to our client, don’t we?’
‘Of course we do, Marcus and I wouldn’t have expected anything less from you.’ My tone was sugary but the meaning was clear.
‘Never mind, I’m sure plenty of your colleagues in chambers will be willing to take the case over from you. Frankly, I’m surprised to see you back on your feet after such a trauma. One might have expected your judgment to be clouded having witnessed so much horror.’
I knew he was trying, in rather a crass way, to put me off. As ever with him, it had quite the opposite effect. Even without my desire to see Albert Cornish’s reputation restored, I would never be bullied by a piece of work like Brandt.
‘You don’t need to worry about me, Marcus. The crash happened in Slovakia, not Poland and I won’t need to go back on a train. In many ways it’s better to get straight back on the horse, isn’t it? This will probably be the best thing for me. And you’re absolutely right, it is extremely important to my case – I’m glad the Judge will have the chance to see the alleged crime scene in person.’ I smiled and walked out leaving Marcus’ sneer fading on his pompous face.
