by Gill Mather
“Ali you’ll have to stop or we’ll get arrested. We’re nearly there. Oh Ali.” Her heart turned over when he said it like that. He looked at her briefly with soft eyes. He picked up her hand again and kissed it.
LATER WHEN HE WAS doing that thing he did afterwards which was to kiss her all over to calm her down that only worked if he didn't nibble or bite or lick at all, he said: “It’s not that easy for me either you know, being in the office with you all day and knowing how gorgeous you are under those black suits you wear.”
“Charcoal grey.”
“Whatever. Ali don't be grumpy. Don't you think we’re lucky. To have found someone that we’re each so compatible with. It doesn't happen to everyone. It’s never happened to me before. I mean I’ve never had a relationship that was so….powerful.”
“But you can control it. Not show it. I find it so difficult.” And she turned away.
“Ali.” He put his arm round her. “I just think….I just think it hasn’t been that long to lose it completely. Come here.” And she turned around again and he hugged her tight. When he put his hand under her chin and tipped her face up, there were tears running down it. “Oh Ali darling.”
“I’m sorry. I can't help it. I’m just….overwhelmed. All the time.”
“Well why not just enjoy it. Just think how awful it could have been. If that semi-pornographic American programme hadn't been on the TV that night when you first came round, you’d never have made inappropriate advances to me and we’d never have found out how very compatible we are would we?”
Ali chuckled through the tears. “Well you have to give some credit to Alan as well. I hope he’s OK.”
“That’s better. Actually I think a change of name might be in order. He appears to be nursing a large brood of little ones. You’d just love it in that shed.”
Ali shuddered.
“Hugh will you come to my sister’s anniversary party with me in a few weeks’ time after Easter.”
“OK.”
“Oh really? Brilliant! I’d hate it if you wouldn't come with me. Sam’s going to be there with Darren but since….you know, she knows, it doesn't really matter. Jan and Matt got to know Darren when they bought their house. That was a few years ago before he opened loads of branches.”
“I’m sure it’ll be heaps of fun.”
He carried on kissing her.
“Hugh,” Ali went on, “something’s been bothering me a bit. Who’s that woman who `phones you sometimes?”
“You’ve lost me.”
“At the office. I’ve heard the tail ends usually of conversations. She calls you on your private line or your mobile and it sounds like she’s trying to….I don't know….it sounds like she wants to see you and you’re putting her off or something. It sounds as though she’s very determined from your side of the conversation.”
“Sorry. I still don't know what you’re talking about.”
“Well you get rather cross. No actually very cross and put the `phone down on her.” She looked at Hugh with large worried eyes.
“Are you sure it’s a woman? I don't have any women `phoning me. At least not about anything but work stuff.”
“Well I don't know then.”
Hugh thought about it. “It might be Don Grimsby. He’s a local villain I won't act for any more. He’s just too vicious. And God knows where his cash comes from. You know to pay us. I was seriously worried we might get done for money laundering. Some of the other partners were none too happy. Cutting off a stream of income. But I couldn't help that. There’s very little he does that’s legit.”
“So that must be what Baz was talking about then, when you and he were talking about money and principles.”
“Yes. Anyway this guy’s called me from time to time trying to persuade me to act for him again. I got him off some charges and I know quite a bit about him. He’s even threatened me.”
“Hugh. Aren’t you worried? What sorts of threats?”
“Oh just vague things like he’ll make sure something unpleasant happens to me. He’s got lots of ways of making my life uncomfortable. He’ll show me the next time. Etc, etc. Nothing specific.”
“The next time! What does he mean by that.”
“I haven't a clue.”
“What have you done about it? Did you tell the police?”
“Fat lot of good that would do. And short of hiring a body guard, there’s not much I can do. Anyway, I used to box at Southend and uni. I could probably look after myself in most situations. I’ve just ignored it. I’m sure it’ll all evaporate. Anyway, he hasn’t called for some time and it looks like he’s about to get banged up for something serious.”
“But Hugh. You live all the way out here on your own,” Ali said wretchedly.
“Well we could soon do something about that. Why don't you come and stay a few more nights a week. It’d kill two birds with one stone. Provide me with a protectress and help with your excessive libido.”
Ali went crimson and buried her face in the pillow. “You’re making fun of me again,” she said in a muffled voice.
“Well, that’s only because I….I adore you so much. You’re everything. The sun and the moon and the sky and the stars. Beautiful, sexy, smart and funny. Funny’s nice.”
“That’s so sweet. You’re everything too. Everything to me.”
And it was a while longer before they left and went back to the office.
CHAPTER 21
ALI WAS SITTING IN one of the courts at Chelmsford Crown Court taking notes on Desmond’s case which had nearly finished. It was just before Easter and she had especially wanted to be there given the significance of the Desmond case to her relationship with Hugh.
Hugh was finishing his address to the jury by telling them that they couldn’t find Desmond guilty if they had any doubt about his having intended to kill or seriously harm Andrews. If they thought that there was any merit at all in Desmond’s argument that he was just trying to get away from the serious damage a bottle in the face could do to him, then they had to acquit him.
Hugh had already been through Ali’s suggested point about the fingerprint pattern on the small table near the door both during the forensic scientist’s evidence and Desmond’s evidence and earlier during his address to the jury. He'd also mentioned the shortness of the time available to Desmond to arrange things to make it merely look as though he had been defending himself as the prosecution had suggested as one possible scenario.
Hugh sat down and the jury retired. Ali went outside into the corridor. Hugh came out but spoke to the prosecuting barrister and hardly gave Ali a glance. Since this was par for the course, Ali didn't mind too much but she went over and chatted to them as well.
Sooner than they thought, the jury returned. Asked about their verdict, they found Desmond “Not guilty” on both counts.
Desmond’s wife burst into tears and he went over and hugged her. Hugh collected up his papers and Desmond said thanks and he didn't want any statements to the press waiting outside. He'd decided to wait inside for a time and go and get some coffee and leave later when the press might have dispersed or found someone else to prey on.
Ali and Hugh therefore slipped out of a side door and were soon on the A12 back to Colchester to enjoy their Easter break.
Easter came early that year, barely into April. Ali and Hugh had arranged that she should stay over. He had another case coming up in the Crown Court soon and needed to spend time on it. Ali managed to get the whole Easter off from working at the S&S. There were lots of students home from Uni and plenty of spare labour.
Ali wondered what she would do all day. She had decided to do some redecoration of the cottage. She’d been tapping the walls and had decided that most of them could get away without complete replastering if the dull-sounding bits were removed and filled. The weekend before Easter they went to a DIY store at Ipswich to get what she needed. Not the Colchester branch of course. They might have bumped into someone from PWT! On the Wednesday evenin
g before the holiday Hugh brushed down the cobwebs and de-spidered the hall, stairs and landing and the small downstairs toilet. The de-spidering was a bit of a nightmare, trying to get them all into jars without injury or without them disappearing under skirting boards. Ali hid away in the bedroom upstairs until the jars had been emptied outside. But after it was all done it looked better already.
Ali wasn't sure how much she’d actually be able to do over the four days of Easter because the walls and ceilings, after filling, required at least one layer of lining paper. It was the period of time drying out that was the problem. Ali thought that if she could get the loose plaster raked out, the holes filled and dried and the lining paper hung, that would be the most she could do. Painting would have to wait.
And she absolutely loved it. Hugh came and watched sometimes and at turns shook his head at her enthusiasm and encouraged her efforts. He steadied the ladder when needed and of course laid hands on her. To begin with she got covered in dust and detritus and he took her upstairs and showered her down. Then he went off and came back with a couple of packs of stuff. One of them was face masks. The other turned out to be forensic suits.
“These should help,” he said.
“Where on earth did you get them from?”
“The masks were left behind by the bods who did the kitchen and bedroom. My mum got me the suits when she found out I was doing criminal work. She thought I’d be turning up at scenes of crime all the time. I hadn't the heart to tell her it doesn't happen that way.”
“I suppose whoever assaulted Angela must’ve worn something like that.”
“I imagine so. You can get them at any safety suppliers. But it’s difficult not to leave any evidence at all.”
They both left it there and Ali donned a suit and mask and they did the trick.
The four days were blissful. On Easter Sunday, Hugh took Ali to a little pub near Bures for a meal and then they walked by the river. Every so often when there were no other walkers about, Hugh stopped and backed her up against a tree and kissed her and rubbed his whole body against hers and, well, Ali wasn't accountable for her response.
And their nights together were just something else. Ali had had to go on the pill. There was a danger that otherwise that they’d get through every condom in Essex and, horror of horrors, they might have to abstain. She’d wondered if the hormones or just the psychological element of more or less total safety would affect the love-making, but if anything the complete freedom and skin contact made it even better if such were possible. They kept waking up in the middle of the night already kissing and wrapped in each other’s arms saying each other’s names. She wished he’d tell her he loved her and she had a really hard time not saying it to him, but all rational thought usually got swept away pretty quickly.
“I’m glad you didn't become a doctor,” said Ali, “looking at all those women’s bits all the time. It would be just awful.”
“How do you know about the doctor thing?”
“Sheila mentioned once about your degree in medicine. Why didn't you carry on with that then?”
“We’d done debating at school and at uni and I liked that and I got interested in the law. I did some forensic science as well and decided I’d rather get involved in criminal law. Anyway it could have been much worse than just examining women’s genitalia. We might not have met at all if I’d become a doctor! That would’ve been tragic wouldn't it?”
“Oh. Unbearable!”
“We were meant to be together you know. Obviously I didn't become a doctor so that I could meet you.”
“Oh Hugh. That’s the nicest thing you’ve said to me.”
ALL TOO SOON IT was Tuesday morning again. Ali had got most of the papering done. They’d also chosen a parchment white Farrow & Ball matt emulsion for the walls and a matching oil-based paint for the woodwork and Ali was dying to get on with the painting. The old toilet was a work of art in itself when cleaned up and they just got a new wooden seat and a shiny brass chain for it.
Going into the office, which always used to be such a thrill, was something of a let down these days after staying with Hugh. If only she could have proudly paraded her and Hugh’s attachment, that might have made it better. But all she could do was fret and hanker after the next time they’d be together.
Ali was doing some work for Alison, drafting a statement regarding a financial relief application from some notes taken last week. And she was due to see Graham and take instructions from him that afternoon about his divorce and finances which was going to be interesting.
She got lots of interruptions though. The form had become that if anyone troublesome or a bit difficult called, they’d usually be put through to Ali.
Therefore accordingly she ended up speaking to Ms. Bates, a frequent caller, who ran a small dog breeding enterprise and had a pregnant Peruvian hairless bitch called Peaches. A hairless dog, thought Ali. It sounded disgusting. Ms. Bates was moving house and worrying constantly whether the completion date would conflict with the dog giving birth. And the expected date of confinement was getting nearer and nearer with exchange of contracts expected any day and parties in the chain talking about moving on the very date Peaches was expected to whelp. And she just couldn't move while the dog was giving birth.
Ali rolled her eyes. Her sister Jan had had to move house the day before she gave birth to their son and hadn't made as much fuss as this.
Women seem to manage all right, she was tempted to say but didn't.
“Couldn't you send her somewhere now,” Ali suggested, “then she wouldn't have to be unsettled again.”
“No it’s too close. She’d just lose them. I don't think I’m going to be able to move now until a few weeks after she’s actually had them.”
“You do know don't you that your sellers are desperate to move before the start of the school summer term so their children can start their new school.”
“Well it won't kill them not to will it. Not like the pups!”
“Right,” said Ali, glad that Ms. Bates couldn't see her expression. “And the other thing is that someone further up the chain has a mortgage offer that runs out in about 10 days. I just think if you insist on delaying things the whole chain will fall through. I wonder….er….you know why you decided to move house at all while this was going on.”
“Well at the beginning the agents said it would be through in six weeks. And that was three months ago.”
“Well unfortunately as you know those same agents sent your buyers to a firm of production line conveyancers who are now holding everything up until they can get the case signed off by a “team leader” who’s away at the moment. It’s likely the agents have received a referral fee from the conveyancers. If they did receive a fee and haven't disclosed that to you, you may be able to refuse to pay their commission.”
“Look I can't be bothered about that at the moment. You’ll have to tell the chain I can't move now until the end of April at least. I’ve got to go now.” And she hung up.
Ali sent an email to the buyer’s conveyancer and the seller’s solicitors and thought well when they both come back saying no, the clients’ll have to sort it out direct because it’s impossible.
She was just getting stuck into the matrimonial statement again when Tammy buzzed her.
“Sorry Ali but no-one else’ll take this call. Can you? It’s something to do with horses.”
Ali sighed and said she would.
“So how can I help you?” Ali said pleasantly.
“Well about a year or two ago I bought a field from the farmer next door for my horses and now the council are saying I’ve got to make an application for change of use from agricultural to leisure/amenity.”
“Did we act for you when you bought the land?”
“No. I do usually use you but it seemed so simple I went to some internet conveyancers. It was really cheap and it was all through in a couple of weeks.”
“Did they know what you wanted the land for?”
> “I’m not sure. I don’t think so.”
“Did they ask?”
“No. Anyway, the council are saying that the planning won’t necessarily be granted.”
“Well I assume you’ll make an application anyway.”
“Yes, but what I want to know is: What will I do with the horses if the planning application is refused?”
This floored Ali. What a stupid, stupid question she thought but instead she said:
“What are you thinking? That you might be able to make some sort of claim against the conveyancers?”
“Well what do you think?”
“It’s impossible to say. One would need to know a lot more about the case, see the conveyancers terms and conditions. They may have excluded liability for advice about the use of the land, planning issues, other things. Their conditions may say that they were only responsible to get the land adequately transferred to you and registered in your name and nothing else. That might not wash for a solicitor. But it might for a conveyancer.”
“So what do I do?”
“Well I can send you our terms of business and hourly rates if you like and you can decide if you want to take it any further and get a more considered opinion what your options and prospects are.”
“Well that’s not very helpful.”
“Sorry. But I can’t give you any definitive opinion on the `phone. It wouldn’t be….”
But the woman had hung up. And Ali hadn’t even taken her name. But she knew Tammy kept a log of callers’ names. No-one would get past her without proffering a name and return `phone number, even if it was Jane Marple St Mary Mead 123.
Ali ploughed on with the matrimonial statement, printed it off and handed it to Alison to check and by that time it was nearly lunchtime.
Tammy called her and said Graham Spellings was on the `phone for her. She didn’t know why. She put him through and Graham said he was in town already and since they had a meeting at two fifteen, would she like to go for a quick drink and a bite with him. Ali was charmed and diverted from her usual obsession and said yes immediately. She went off to meet Graham in The George.
