A Hallowed Place

by Caro Fraser

  Derek, chin on hand, stared at her. ‘Who’s going to look after the sheep? An inner-city shepherd?’

  Melissa accepted the suggestion with serious thoughtfulness. ‘That could be a rather good idea. It would add the perfect touch of irony, wouldn’t it? Anyway, to continue. The sheep pen will be moved around the green site, so that different parts are cropped. The idea is to create a kind of grass sculpture. And the sheep will be belled, so that their movement and sound will produce a symphonic, gentle contrast to the basic environment. I’m in the process of getting a costs breakdown from the collective, and I’ll let you all have details as soon as they’re ready.’

  Derek shook his head, too bemused to pass the remotest criticism. The others shifted slightly in their chairs and a few sighed.

  ‘Well, I like it,’ said Chay. ‘It’s organic, interactive, totally visual. Just what we need. It’s naturally a pity that it won’t be operative when the museum opens, but in the nature of open space projects, it takes the right weather, and so on.’ He smiled round at the assembled trustees. ‘I take it we’re all in favour of going ahead?’

  ‘I think we should look at the costs breakdown first,’ said Tony Gear. ‘Make sure that it’s realistic.’ There was a murmur of agreement.

  ‘Yes - yes, I suppose that’s right,’ said Chay. ‘In any event, I think that just about concludes the business for this evening.’

  People rose from their chairs. ‘Personally,’ murmured Derek to Leo, ‘I think that woman is totally bonkers.’ He hitched his shabby raincoat round his shoulders. ‘My one hope is that a few of her sheep fall foul of the local organic urban Rottweilers. Beaver, my arse.’ He moved off.

  Leo slipped on his coat and headed for the door, hoping to avoid any contact with Melissa. But she waylaid him, laying a thin, insistent hand upon his sleeve. His heart sank as their eyes met. He had so hoped that their drunken evening together would be the end of it. But her lips were forming a smile.

  ‘Don’t you think you’ve behaved in a rather ungentlemanly way?’ The smile was one of steel, almost a leer. ‘The least I expected was a phone call.’

  There was something so disturbing about her expression, and about the unwarranted pressure of her fingers on his arm, that Leo was moved to rudeness. ‘A phone call? Why on earth should I phone you?’

  The distaste in his voice made her shrink, but she managed a light shrug. ‘Well, we’d both had a little too much to drink, but it had been an enjoyable evening in its way - hadn’t it? And it could have been even more enjoyable.’ She felt her hatred slacken. Here, in his presence, his flesh beneath her hand, she was still willing to have him on ordinary terms, without malice. Her voice was low and breathy. ‘I thought you might see that, under other circumstances, we could have been very good together. Very good. I thought you might still want that.’

  Leo stared at her, aware of mild revulsion. There was something oddly disjointed about her features, as though their expression might fragment with the force of whatever emotions bubbled within her. Perhaps Derek was right - perhaps she was mildly unhinged. He regretted now ever having given her a lift home that first night. He shook his arm free. ‘Melissa, let us be clear about one thing. That evening was a mistake. There are no circumstances, apart from these trustee meetings, when I would ever wish to see you. Forgive my bluntness, but I want there to be no future misunderstandings.’ Turning to go, he added, ‘And if you feel an apology is due for my behaviour that evening, please accept one.’

  He reached the door and collided with Anthony coming in.

  ‘Have I missed the entire meeting?’ asked Anthony. ‘I thought Henry Runcimore was never going to shut up.’

  ‘I’m afraid so,’ replied Leo. ‘Not to worry. Let’s go for a drink and I’ll fill you in on the important bits, especially the open space project. You’ll like that.’

  Melissa stood by the table, the fingers which had held Leo’s arm opening and closing. What a mistake he had made. He had had a chance, and he had thrown it away in ignorance. He deserved everything that might happen. The thought of exacting her revenge now spread like fire through her mind with a sensual, anticipatory warmth.

  Cautiously Henry pushed open the door of the hospital room and put his head round. The room was lit only by a small lamp by the bed, where Felicity lay, eyes closed. She opened them and saw Henry, who smiled.

  ‘How are you?’ he asked, sitting down in a chair next to the bed.

  ‘Bloody awful,’ sighed Felicity. She looked pale, her eyes weary with dejection.

  ‘I’m really sorry about the baby,’ said Henry, and put a hand over hers.

  ‘Ow!’ said Felicity. ‘That’s my bad wrist. I must have bashed it when I fell down, along with every other bit of me. Here, have the other.’ She slipped her other hand into Henry’s and he stroked it. To his alarm, he saw large tears suddenly well up in Felicity’s eyes, and her shoulders began to shake.

  ‘Hey, come on, it’ll be all right,’ he said soothingly, and tried clumsily to pat her shoulder. It wasn’t really possible to give her a hug from the chair.

  ‘Oh, Henry,’ said Felicity through her weeping, ‘it’s like the worst time ever. I can’t believe how wrong everything’s going. It’s not just losing the baby. My mum was in a couple of hours ago. That boy that Vince was in the fight with. He died.’

  ‘Oh, God,’ said Henry. ‘Oh, God.’

  ‘And they’ve got Vince in custody. They reckon he’ll be charged with murder.’

  ‘No,’ said Henry. ‘From what you’ve told me, Vince didn’t murder anyone. Don’t worry. That’s just what the police have to charge him with. The CPS will bring it down.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter,’ sobbed Felicity. ‘He’ll go to prison. I know he will. And it’s partly my fault. I was going on at him, that’s why he went out on the bike—’

  ‘It’s not your fault,’ interrupted Henry. ‘It’s just all a horrible piece of bad luck.’

  ‘Yeah,’ sniffed Felicity. She leant back against the pillows. ‘But I can’t help feeling responsible, in a way.’

  ‘You mustn’t worry,’ said Henry. ‘The thing to do is to get better, and then see how you can help Vince.’ He paused, stroking her hand, wishing he had the nerve just to put his arms around her. She looked so vulnerable, so pretty. ‘Everyone in chambers sends their love.’

  Felicity smiled through her tears. ‘That’s nice. In fact, it’s the only good thing about all this. At least I’ve still got you lot.’

  ‘That’s right.’

  She looked more closely at Henry. ‘You’ve shaved it off. I’ve only just noticed.’

  ‘Mmm. I got a bit bored with it.’

  ‘I’m glad,’ said Felicity. ‘I really liked you better without it.’

  Anthony went home that night, his heart and mind full of Leo. It was the first time in many months that they had spent time alone together, apart from the Sunday when Anthony had gone to Stanton. Then relations had been tentative, still balanced on the uncertainties of Leo’s state of mind. This evening, however, he had seemed to be recovering something of his old self. Leo had told him about Rachel’s decision, and it had only dawned on Anthony then, listening to him, just how much Oliver meant to Leo. Having never seen Oliver, Anthony had always had difficulty in imagining how he fitted into Leo’s life. From the very first time he had met him, Leo had been to Anthony a most singular creature, a man who purposely kept his life devoid of ties and emotional responsibilities. It was hard to think of him as a father. Clearly, however, it was now one of the most important aspects of Leo’s existence. Anthony felt a fleeting sense of envy, that this small being should occupy so vast a space in Leo’s life and heart. He had held such a place once.

  He pondered these things as he strolled from the station to his flat. This evening had brought home to him how pleasurable it had all once been. Listening to Leo talk about Joshua had created again the atmosphere of intimacy which had once existed between them. He had found himself experiencin
g a touch of jealousy as Leo described the intensity of his feelings for the boy, but he was glad that Leo seemed to have recovered sufficiently to talk about the affair with some detachment. As he let himself into his darkened flat, Anthony realised that he hadn’t thought about Camilla once during the hours he had spent with Leo.

  The following afternoon Anthony sat at his desk, deeply absorbed in work, when Leo knocked and put his head round the door. Anthony looked up and experienced that odd, tipping sensation in his heart at the sight of him, something he associated with his early days at Caper Court. It was only because of the dream he had had the night before, he told himself. Its vestiges still clung there, like a veil across his thoughts. It was a long time since he had dreamt about Leo.

  ‘Chambers meeting. Had you forgotten?’

  Anthony glanced at his watch and saw with surprise that it was four o’clock. ‘No. I just lost track of time. Hold on.’ He slipped on his jacket, and together he and Leo made their way upstairs to Cameron’s room, where the other tenants were assembling. In the weeks since Cameron’s death his personal belongings had been taken away by his widow, but the big man’s character and personality still seemed to pervade the room. The matter of his successor was the first item on the agenda, and it was agreed as a matter of course that Roderick, who had been acting head of chambers, should take over the position permanently.

  Then, after a few minor matters of chambers’ expenditure had been dealt with, Jeremy raised the question of moving chambers to Sussex Street. With his customary confidence he recited the advantages of the move, the low rent, the additional prestige which state-of-the-art technology and facilities would bring to chambers, and the rest listened with a dull sense of inevitability. Leo glanced around at them. He caught Anthony’s eye and gave him a brief, secretive smile.

  ‘The fact is, if we look around for suitable premises within the Temple, we could wait for ever and there’s no guarantee that we’d secure the kind of terms we want. We need to expand, and quickly, and this seems to me the perfect option. I think it’s an unarguable case,’ concluded Jeremy.

  With a little thrill of affection Anthony caught Leo’s smile. Leo glanced at Jeremy and remarked mildly, ‘Surely, Jeremy, you’ve been at the Bar long enough to know that there’s no such thing as an unarguable case.’

  ‘Arguable or not, Leo, the fact is that this is the best we can do. And there’s no point in sentimentalising about the Temple, and tradition, and all that nonsense. I, for one, am fed up with the limitations of the place. There is no viable alternative.’

  ‘But there is,’ said Leo. He got up and walked to the window, holding the attention of the others. He glanced out, then turned to them. ‘In two weeks’ time Desmond Broadhurst will be vacating his flat on the top floor of 7 Caper Court. He’s lived there for years. The flat has eight good sized rooms, a kitchen and a bathroom. It’s perfect for our requirements. I’ve spoken to the Estates Committee about it and, subject to negotiations, they’re agreeable in principle to our taking it over as an annexe.’ There was a murmur of interest among the other barristers. ‘The advantages are obvious. We are spared the upheaval of complete removal, the additional rent we would have to pay remains on favourable terms, and we are still within the Temple. Now, Jeremy may fret under the yoke of tradition, but I for one can do without air-conditioning and windows I can’t open.’ Jeremy tried to bluster an interruption, but Leo carried on. ‘It also means that we are spared the tiresome business of drawing up a constitution, giving cross-indemnities and so forth. Those are aspects of Jeremy’s proposals which he hasn’t so far mentioned - or, perhaps, thought of.’ He paused, looking round. ‘So, I propose that we expand by taking over Desmond’s flat, rather than moving lock, stock and barrel out of the Temple.’

  Leo strolled back to his seat and sat down. Roderick looked round at the other members of chambers, his expression pleased and unmistakably relieved. ‘Well, I think we can take a vote on it, can’t we? Those in favour of expanding chambers to occupy the top floor of number seven, please raise your hands.’

  Everybody raised their hands except Jeremy. Then he, too, shrugged and raised his hand. Much as he disliked being bested by Leo, he couldn’t object. Even he knew that it was a provident solution.

  ‘Excellent,’ said Roderick. He looked at Leo. ‘I take it that you’ll be able to get more details in due course from the Estates Committee so that we can discuss them at the next chambers meeting?’

  ‘Of course.’ Leo thrust his hands into his pockets and tipped his seat back, smiling in a way that Anthony hadn’t seen for a long time.

  Leo drove home that night with a feeling of mild satisfaction, and enormous relief at the knowledge that the threat of leaving the Temple had been removed. With luck, he thought, as he walked from the garage to the flat, he could see out the rest of his days in Caper Court. Maybe that was a melancholy notion, beginning and ending one’s days in the same place. But to Leo it had a certain comfort. He went upstairs and let himself into the dark flat. He instantly felt a pang of longing for the days, not so long ago, when it would have been bright and welcoming, Joshua in the kitchen, or loafing around listening to music. Now it was silent. He felt himself beginning to tremble, the feelings within him give way. No, he couldn’t let that happen again. This was where he had to live for the present. There was nowhere else that he could sensibly go. He snapped on some lights and went into the drawing room, poured himself a drink and sat down. The effort of holding together the pieces of his life, of presenting a sane facade to the world, was taxing. Day by day it got a little better, but Leo knew he still had a long way to go until he recovered from the events of the past few months. If he ever did.

  At least he had the comfort of knowing that Oliver would be with him regularly. Thank God Rachel had given in. If she hadn’t, the court would almost certainly have rejected his application and that might just have finished him off. God knows what he’d have done then. One could only take so much of one’s world falling to pieces. Now, with the knowledge that he would see Oliver every other week and that chambers would be staying put, he felt a tenuous hope. The pain of losing Joshua didn’t diminish - there were still moments, wild and futile, when Leo felt as though he could willingly throw everything in and go and find him, try to bring him back. He had never loved anyone with such passion in his life. Still, to have known that depth of feeling, to have tasted the heaven and the hell of it, was perhaps not wasted. Work lessened the torment. He shouldn’t have spent so much time away. Leo drank some more of his whisky, leant his head back and closed his eyes.

  It was because he was thinking of Joshua that the sound of the buzzer to the flat made him jump with a sense of deja vu. It ebbed away quickly. It couldn’t be Joshua. It never would be again. He went to the intercom.

  ‘Hello?’

  ‘Leo? It’s me, Sarah. Let me in - I’m freezing.’ He could almost hear the shiver in her voice.

  Mildly surprised, Leo pressed the buzzer and opened the door, then went back into the drawing room and sat down.

  He heard the front door close, then she appeared in the doorway, dressed in a full-length black coat, her blonde hair tucked into the collar.

  ‘Hi,’ she said. ‘I was in the neighbourhood, so I thought I’d drop by and see you.’

  ‘How very sociable of you. Help yourself to a drink.’ He realised that he felt quite grateful for the sight of her.

  ‘Thanks.’ She took off her coat and poured herself a Scotch, wandering round the room with it, glancing at books and paintings. ‘It’s all very tasteful, Leo. And quite clinical, if I may say.’ She sipped her drink. ‘Not like Stanton.’

  ‘Which do you prefer?’ Leo flipped open the silver box on the little table next to his chair and took out a cigar. Seeing this, Sarah picked up a heavy silver lighter from the mantelpiece and came across with it. She snapped it open and bent slightly to light his cigar. He murmured his thanks and watched her as she re-crossed the room to put it back, takin
g in the lines of her black-stockinged thighs. Did she really get away with wearing skirts that short to chambers, he wondered. No doubt David enjoyed it too much to say anything.

  ‘I prefer Stanton,’ said Sarah, sitting down opposite him and crossing her legs. ‘But then, I know it, don’t I? I have certain - memories.’

  Leo smiled and drew on his cigar. ‘Your life must consist of a rich and varied assortment of memories.’

  ‘Mmm. Some are more amusing than others.’ She sighed. ‘To be honest with you, I get a little weary of it all. Men. Different men. In the end, they’re all much alike. Not you, though.’

  ‘No?’

  ‘No.’ She studied him as she sipped her drink. ‘I hear you managed to persuade the rest of chambers not to move to Sussex Street.’

  ‘They didn’t need much persuading. I simply came up with a better idea.’

  ‘You always do.’

  ‘Tell me, dearest Sarah, why exactly are you here? Not that it isn’t lovely to see you, but with you there’s usually an agenda.’

  She shrugged. ‘None. I was bored.’ She fingered her glass. ‘And, to be honest, I’ve been worried about you.’

  Leo let out a short burst of laughter. ‘Worried? You?’

  ‘Don’t laugh. I was worried when you were away. I knew you must be at Stanton. I almost went down to see you.’

  He saw that she was sincere. ‘Well, that was sweet of you. But I think I’m over the worst,’ he lied.

  ‘Are you?’ She got up from her armchair and came over to him. She knelt down, setting her glass on the carpet, and folded her arms across his knee and rested her chin on them. There was something unguarded about the move which rather touched him. ‘I thought you might be feeling rather lonely. Or bored.’

  ‘Both. Potentially.’ He raised his cigar to his lips but she put up a hand and took it lightly from him, then crushed it into an ashtray.