Internment

by Gill Mather

  So Daniel had gamely trotted out the story about the call from Sharon and Darren’s mad rush to get home to his family. He’d spoken of Darren’s spotless record. And then he’d given an account of Darren’s rise from an office boy to the owner of a multi-branch estate agency, his tireless work to provide employment and the best working conditions and to open new offices. There was more than a hint of further entrepreneurial activities to come and the difficulties which would be caused and the untold number of others who might suffer if Darren’s means of getting about were to be restricted, though he said nothing specific about the intended development.

  So that was it and the Bench was returning to hand down its sentence.

  The chairman of the Magistrates made a speech about the death rate on the roads, that the Court had to be seen not to condone excessive speeding.

  Oh dear, here we go thought Ali.

  “But in view of Mr. Summers’ excellent record, his huge input into the local economy and the mitigating circumstances of this case, we are not on this occasion going to order a disqualification.”

  Phew thought Ali. The Chairman had to have his say about any future breaches being harshly dealt with etc, etc. Then he handed out a huge fine and nine points on Darren’s licence. The Chairman smiled at Darren and Daniel and then the clerk said a few words about the formalities and they were able to leave.

  Outside, Daniel was obviously delighted at the outcome and shook Darren’s hand, nodded at Ali and then rushed off to drive back to his chambers. Darren was subdued and unexpectedly asked Ali if she’d like a coffee. She was inclined to plead pressure of work but Darren looked so serious that she agreed.

  Oh no, she thought as they walked to the nearest café on the way back to Darren’s office, I hope this isn't about Sam. What’ll I say? By way of conversation as they walked along, Ali told Darren about her job at the Sod & Shovel over Christmas. Darren seemed surprised until Ali said she was only an intern at PWT. Darren frowned at that.

  “It means I’m not paid. I just get the experience.”

  “Blimey the mean sods,” said Darren. Ali was inclined privately to agree.

  Darren got the coffees then, sitting opposite Ali, he looked at her earnestly and said:

  “Ali you’re a solicitor.”

  “No. No I’m not. I’m just a law…”

  “Well near as dammit. You look and sound like a solicitor and I respect your opinion.”

  “Thanks.” This didn't sound like a prelude to a discussion about Sam. Ali breathed a little more easily.

  “What it is is that I’m worried about my kids. I’m worried that Sharon’s neglecting them.”

  And he told Ali what had really happened on the night he’d been pulled up for speeding.

  Ali felt bound to say that lying to the police and putting up a bogus case in Court was serious.

  Darren shrugged. “Well I can't help that. I’d do anything for my kids. They’re more important than me and my standing with the law. They could suffer as much as me and Sharon by having our dirty linen aired in public. I’ve employed a nanny anyway so it’s a bit better but Sharon wouldn't hear of having one who lived in so I’m still really worried. What I wanted to ask is, if I split up with Sharon, what are my chances of getting custody of the kids? What do you think?”

  “Darren I’m really sorry but I’ve got very little experience of matrimonial cases at all. You’ll have to come in and speak to Alison.” However she knew that Alison would only be able to give very standard advice and, even if she thought Darren would stand some chance of getting the children, if it came to a stand up fight it might not go in his favour. Solicitors rarely give very optimistic advice anyway, not wanting to stoke up peoples’ hopes just to bring about more disappointment later.

  “Oh God. Doing that makes it sound so formal. Like I’m definitely going to go through with this. It’s a huge decision. I just don't know what to do.” He looked forlornly at Ali. A good man who worked hard and just wanted a happy family life but saw it slipping away. All her previous preconceptions about him evaporated.

  “I know what happens to dads when a couple split up. They sometimes never get to see the kids again.”

  “Darren have you thought that Sharon might not object to your having the children. They seem to be a bit of a burden for her from what you say. You might not have to have a legal battle with her about it. She might be glad to let you take them if she knows she’ll be able to see them regularly and if she isn't going to be short of money. Maybe if you broached the subject of a separation so she got used to that idea first, then you could bring in the issue of the kids.”

  “Maybe.”

  “But I shouldn't really be giving you personal advice. I’m not a counsellor. I’m not qualified to talk to you other than about the legal side of things and as I say I can't help much with that. Look. When I get back to the office I’ll see if I can get you an appointment with Alison soon. Are you free this afternoon?”

  Darren said he was. He thanked Ali profusely for listening. They parted company and went back to their respective offices. Ali determined not to say anything about this to Sam. They’d have to get it together on their own. She was just relieved Sam was away today having started her Christmas break early.

  CHAPTER 12

  APART FROM DARREN’S CASE, Ali rushed about doing completions for the two days before the Christmas break started. Remarkably, James `phoned her on the Tuesday and invited her to a Boxing Day party at his house. No mention of her career though. Since she wasn't doing bar work Boxing Day she was able to say yes.

  “Bring an overnight bag,” said James artlessly.

  “Right,” said Ali with an edge to her voice.

  “No I didn't mean…oh what an oaf I am. It’s just that everyone stays the night. The party goes on `til the morning and then no-one’s in a fit state to go home.”

  After Ali had enquired as obliquely as she could about the mode of dress, they agreed that James would pick her up about 9 p.m.

  The next lunchtime, the day they broke up, the office had a little get together and presents were handed out paid for by the firm and suggested by the staff. Sandra apparently arranged all this and it was a long-standing tradition of the firm.

  It hadn't escaped Ali’s notice that members of staff had been trooping in to see Mr. Watts one by one that morning to be told, so she found out, what bonuses they were to receive and came back out with varying expressions of satisfaction or otherwise on their faces. There was no summons for Ali however until last thing in the morning. When she went in, she was bowled over at being given a cheque for £500. She gabbled her thanks and shoved it in her bag before it self-destructed.

  When it came to Ali’s present, she couldn't imagine what it could be. It was flat and uninteresting-looking in shape. She tore the paper off to find a plaque that said:

  THE PRIVY

  The sign had been produced using the same script Ali had used on her own hand-written sign. Ali felt like crying it was so personal to her and obviously some thought must’ve gone into it. She assumed Sam had suggested it.

  They all smiled at Ali. “It was Hugh’s idea and he got it made specially,” Alison said. You could have knocked Ali down with a feather.

  “Oh. How thoughtful.” Ali looked searchingly at Hugh who acknowledged with a small bow. Something, like a tiny virtual arrow so it seemed, hit Ali just at the edge of her consciousness. Then it glanced off and was gone.

  After the present-giving was over, they all had some bubbly and sandwiches to mop it up. Sandra recorded a suitable Christmas message saying when the office was re-opening. Hugh told Ali that if she left the plaque, he’d put it on her office door over Christmas. And they all went home.

  THE NEXT DAY WAS Christmas Eve and Ali had to work at The S&S. Knackered wasn't the word for it by the end of the night.

  On Christmas Day the family went to Jan and Matt’s house for Christmas lunch. They had a long lazy day and a walk before a late lunch,
and afterwards while the men cleared up and Ali’s mum went to sleep during the Queen’s Speech, Ali and Jan went through Jan’s wardrobe for a suitable dress to wear the next day. She’d kind of started to suss that it was actually a ball she was going to, not just a regular party. She’d looked up the address on google and it was a huge hall and there was actually even a bit about the Boxing Day ball, a regular feature of the Christmas social calendar every year. James it seemed was an hereditary Honourable.

  Jan had lots of lovely gowns she never wore now since she’d put on a stone or so after having the children. She and Ali were about the same height and Ali picked out three possibles to take home and try on again. One was low backed and flame red, another petrol blue and the third a brilliant sequinned jade gown slit up to the thigh on one side. Ali liked the flame red best.

  She also selected some jewellery.

  “So it’s definitely over with Rob then?” said Jan.

  “Looks like it. I expected I’d be upset but actually I’m quite relieved.”

  Jan wanted to know all about James in that case. Ali’s lack of enthusiasm was disappointing.

  “I don't know him really. I only met him at this office party last week. He said he’d see if his old man could help me get a training contract or some sort of job with a firm of solicitors. I never actually expected to hear from him again. He’s nice enough. A bit plummy, a bit dense actually, on the surface anyway. We’ll have to see.”

  She told Jan about the staying the night thing.

  “Well you never know,” Jan said, “romance might blossom over the crenellations.”

  “Hey. If he takes me up onto the ramparts I might really start to worry. I very much doubt if there’s any chance of romance. You know they hunt and shoot and all that. It’s not really my scene. All this hereditary wealth and thinking you’re someone special just because of where you were born, it’s all a bit sickening.”

  “Well I know that’s your philosophy. But we’re all affected by our backgrounds. If you’d been brought up in the East End say, you mayn’t have gone off to get a law degree. I’m not saying anyone’s better than anyone else but people are bound to do the sorts of things their families do by and large. It’s not class. It’s just life.”

  “Maybe but I still can't see me blending in with members of the aristocracy. As far as I’m concerned it’ll just be a bit of a laugh. And if I do see James again I reckon that’s all it’ll be. Actually if he starts to get remotely serious I’ll have to call it a day, contacts or no contacts in the legal world. I just don't really fancy him and I wouldn’t want to hurt him.”

  Ali looked at her reflection critically in the red dress. Quite slim. Not short, but not too tall. In and out in all the right places. Longish dark hair. Not too bad a face she thought. Slightly elfin. I’ll put on a bit of extra eye makeup and war paint tomorrow, she thought.

  “You’ll look stunning,” said Jan. “You always do. You don't realise how lovely you are, little sister.”

  THE BALL HAD BARELY started by the time Ali and James got to the Hall. James showed Ali to a room upstairs with her case. He said he’d come back in, what, twenty minutes to collect her and take her down again. Ali was relieved. The place was like a warren and she doubted she could have found her way on her own.

  Back James duly came after almost exactly twenty minutes and knocked on the door. He told her too that she looked stunning. She’d chosen the flame red dress and jewellery she thought matched it. She didn't mind too much that he took her hand to lead her down. She was after all his date for that evening presumably, though her knowledge of the social niceties and nuances of that particular set was next to nothing. For all she knew, James would take her into the ballroom and then abandon her for the evening.

  But he didn't. He introduced her to endless people including his parents and his sister and brothers who were charming but vague. There were hundreds of people there and everyone seemed to know each other and they all talked ten to the dozen about all the people they knew and what they were up to and who was going to what event. The girls were all fairly debby and the young men pretty much carbon copies of James. Ali was reminded of the Jilly Cooper 1970s series of books with girls’ names for titles that she’d acquired from somewhere and devoured aged thirteen under the bedclothes with a torch especially as they’d seemed at the time to her to be fairly racy.

  Ali was relieved when the band struck up seriously and James asked her to dance. After dancing and a few more drinks, Ali loosened up a bit and started to enjoy herself and stopped worrying about not knowing anyone. James was really sweet and took her out onto a terrace at one point and kissed her softly and gently and Ali wondered if she might revise her previous certainty that there was nothing doing with James. But somehow or other as the evening wore on both she and James got drunker and drunker and had to prop each other up on the dance floor. They were by no means the only ones and wherever they went they seemed to meet other couples staggering about not quite but almost legless.

  James was the first to have to go to the bathroom. He recovered spectacularly quickly however as he had at Summers party. Ali didn't fare so well. When she came back from the loo she told James she was going to have to go and lie down. He guided her up to her room again and went off saying he’d be back in a minute. Ali was too drunk to worry what he meant but he came back in with a large washing up bowl and placed it strategically on the floor near her head.

  “Just in case,” he said cheerfully and off he went again.

  After a room-spinning few minutes she fell into a stupor.

  Far too soon she was awakened by a hammering at her door. The sun streamed through the mullioned window. She raised her head and then fell back with a blinding headache.

  “’M’in,” she managed to groan.

  James bounced in with a cup of tea and some evil looking beverage he announced was an ace at getting rid of hangovers.

  “You’re missing breakfast,” he said and brushed aside Ali’s protestations that she’d have to get changed. She was still in the now somewhat crumpled ballgown.

  “No need for that. Party’s still in full swing.”

  Ali could only marvel at these peoples’ constitutions and their capacity to enjoy themselves, but discovered that she was in fact ravenous and wolfed down an enormous full English breakfast.

  “Second best hangover cure,” laughed James.

  Then he told her that he was going riding later and wanted to catch a bit of shut-eye beforehand so if she didn't mind too much he’d take her home after breakfast. That was fine by Ali. She was working that evening and most of the rest of the week and needed to spend the day recovering, i.e. sleeping it off.

  She couldn't be bothered to change out of the ballgown and therefore tottered up the drive to her house in full evening wear clutching her overnight. Curtains twitched and her mother remarked on it and what people would think etc. Her dad just smiled and said he hoped she’d enjoyed herself. Five minutes later he took her a cup of tea in bed and she slept the rest of the day until she dragged herself up again to go and serve drinks to other people.

  CHAPTER 13

  WHILE THE SOLICITORS’ firms were closed down for Christmas, Summer Homes remained open for business as usual, apart from the Bank Holidays.

  A lot of staff had wanted to take days off over Christmas however so on the Tuesday morning when they re-opened, Darren was one of those manning the office, which was a change for him from the usual managerial duties nowadays but he enjoyed it. However a couple of part-timers turned up for the afternoon stint so Darren thought he’d go home midday and check up on things. He’d never done this before but he hadn't realised it might be necessary. And the nanny was off that week until Thursday and then of course off again since the Friday would be New Years Day. He was finding this nanny business pretty expensive. The wages were far more than he’d ever imagined they might be and that was just for a nine to five Monday to Friday nanny. He dreaded to think what it would
cost if you actually wanted someone twenty-four-seven which was the package kids came in.

  He just hoped Sharon was coping. He had already broached the subject of separation with her after talking to Ali and Alison, and incredibly she had shrugged and said that would probably be for the best. He’d found it impossible to comprehend at first but it was slowly starting to sink in that Sharon just didn't want to be married any more and that maybe Ali had been right about her not wanting the kids either. But what to do about it was the thing. He worked long unsocial hours. He could probably take a week or so off without the business collapsing and of course did so to go on holiday but that took a lot of advance planning and he was always in touch throughout.

  If he had to suddenly down tools to accommodate a family emergency, that would be different. A few days at most would be all he could manage.

  Darren drove home and let himself in. He could hear the TV was on in the lounge and went in to find Perry and Larry playing by the gas fire which was on full blast.

  He cuddled the kids as they ran to him offering him their toys to look at and importuning him for a game. “Where’s mum?” he asked them. Upstairs they said. So he picked them both up and went up with them. And found Sharon in bed asleep. He bent down to smell but at least she didn't appear to have been drinking.

  Sharon woke up slowly. Darren tried to control his temper in front of the children.

  “Why weren’t you downstairs with the kids? They were near the fire you know. How long have you been up here?”

  “I was just having a nap,” Sharon yawned as if it was the most natural thing in the world. “They don't want one after dinner any more but I bloody do.”

  “Sharon you can't leave two small children on their own like that. They could easily hurt themselves.”