by D. R. Bailey
“Great, so we are almost done, apart from the financial aspects—”
“Oh, it’s not an issue, I can pay, don’t you worry,” he said interrupting.
She gave him a slight nod in acknowledgement, Andrew would be happy.
“And also, I will need all the papers you have been served, and some more details, which Imogen will take from you. First, however, let’s take you to meet our finance manager, Andrew Bond, and he’ll arrange the fees and so forth.”
“Thank you, yes, whatever you need, I’ll do it,” he said gratefully.
“You are welcome. We will do our very best, but obviously, we can’t guarantee the result,” she replied, feeling the caveat was needed.
“Yes, I know you can’t do that, I understand completely.”
“Great, let’s go and see Andrew.”
✽✽✽
The meeting with Andrew was successful, as she knew it would be. He was nothing if not transparent and when a paying customer appeared, he became incredibly amenable. However, he was also financially astute, and he made sure the firm got its money’s worth. A retainer was usually required. Rhys agreed to all the terms and rates without demur. Andrew had factored in Imogen’s time too, as he felt justified in having a junior barrister for such a case.
Imogen took some details from Rhys, and he promised to send over all of the papers by courier as soon as he got back to his office.
As they bade him goodbye, Bernadette suddenly said, “I’m curious, your accent, you are… Welsh?”
“Oh, yes,” Rhys laughed, “For my sins, born and bred in Aberystwyth, ach. I spent a good part of my life in Wales but when my parents passed, I wanted to make something of myself. I came to Ireland and started up my business with one truck, driving it all myself. The rest is history.”
“A self-made man.”
“Yes, and I’ve never lost my accent. Callum is different, he grew up here. I married an Irish lass and she was the apple of my eye. It’s partly why I moved here I suppose, so she could be at home. It’s shame she was taken so soon,” he said in a voice tinged with sadness.
“I’m sorry.” Bernadette did not like to ask what his wife had died of. No doubt it may come up at some point, but now was not the time.
“No matter, anyway, I’ll get off, thank you again.”
They shook hands and watched him leave. He was obviously a proud man who felt things deeply.
Bernadette looked at Imogen. “It’s nearly lunchtime… shall we?”
“Yes, why not.”
“We’re out to lunch, Juanita,” said Bernadette over her shoulder as they opened the front door. What Juanita had to say about it was lost on them as Bernadette closed the door behind them.
They walked from the office to their favourite haunt, Mamma Mia. This was a small restaurant nearby where the tables sported red chequered tablecloths and was a bright friendly establishment with great food. The menu was Italian. Since Bernadette was no longer on a strict diet, she was able to choose more widely and without consulting her fiancée.
As a result, they both chose the Bruschetta and the Panino Salame which was a mutual favourite. This was topped off with sparkling water.
“Quite a case to get stuck into,” said Imogen after consuming a mouthful of her panini.
“Yes, very much so.”
“Have you dealt with an extradition case before?”
“I haven’t, to be honest, well, not directly. I have been peripherally involved in one or two whilst learning the job. This would be the first defence I’ve led,” Bernadette said toying a little with her sandwich before eating it.
“A learning curve for us both,” Imogen mused.
They ate in silence for a few moments, enjoying the food.
“God that was scrumptious,” said Bernadette as she finished the last mouthful.
“Mmm, bet you are glad you are not on the diet.”
“I’m on a maintenance diet so I have to watch what I eat, and I’m answerable to Eve if I start to put on weight.” Bernadette smiled.
“Oh? Answerable in what way?” Imogen was always interested in the details of their relationship and pounced on this at once.
“You know.” Bernadette’s eyes twinkled. “Hands on the wall for thirty minutes, that sort of thing.”
“Oh yes, naked and wearing stilettoes,” Imogen laughed, “I remember now.”
“That’s right, though the lovemaking afterwards is always so intense. My God, I screamed the house down last time.”
“Yes, it’s the same with D’Arcy after the paddle,” Imogen replied with a sly grin, “I have tried Eve’s methods too, but only after D’Arcy gets a spanking, I guess Eve omitted that part.”
“Yes, she did, and I don’t want her to include it, either,” said Bernadette firmly.
“Back to sex again, what are we like?” Imogen laughed.
“Terrible.”
“I’ll order coffee and we’ll focus on the case,” said Imogen calling the waiter over.
“Yes, please do,” Bernadette said with mock severity, but she didn’t mean it in the least. They both enjoyed their girly chats.
“So, the first thing?” said Imogen as the coffee arrived.
“We need to get the papers, lodge our representation and get all of the evidence which is being presented as part of the proceedings.”
“OK.” Imogen took a sip of her coffee.
“We also need to see Callum, and set up an urgent bail hearing, there’s no way he should be in jail.”
“Yes.”
“Would you take the lead at the hearing?”
“Sure, I’ll do it, no problem.” Imogen smiled.
“That’s a change of tune,” Bernadette replied, pleased.
The first time Bernadette had asked her to do this, Imogen had been shit scared of failing. The hearing had, however, gone well and since that time Imogen had taken on more minor cases albeit under Bernadette’s supervision.
“Ah well, I’m a bit more battle hardened since then.” Imogen winked at her.
“Yes, and that’s good, you are gaining in confidence and rightly so.”
Imogen had a few wins under her belt at least, getting people of minor criminal charges or reducing their sentences. She had done well.
“Assuming we get him out of jail, what then?” Imogen wondered.
“We will have to see what witnesses they have or don’t have. But one of the places we should try is the depot where Callum picked the truck up from, maybe we can interview someone from there, perhaps.”
“And what if they are somehow involved?” Imogen replied with concern.
“We will find out very quickly I’m sure.”
“And then?”
“We revise our approach.”
“OK.”
They sipped their coffee both thinking through any other strategies but at this point, there wasn’t much they really knew. More would be revealed as they got hold of the documents.
“I guess the Irish prosecution service will be representing the British prosecution service,” said Imogen at length.
“Yes, yes they will. It’s their job and after all, the lawyers from the UK won’t be able to represent themselves in Ireland. Logically it would be our prosecution service,” Bernadette agreed.
“What if it’s Shane?” Shane was still a sore point with Imogen, Bernadette could tell.
“Then we simply whip his arse in the courtroom once again,” Bernadette laughed.
“I’d like to whip his arse for sure, but not so much in the courtroom,” Imogen said crossly recalling her issues with him once more.
“You’ll have to content yourself with D’Arcy’s arse,” said her friend mildly.
“I know, I have to keep Shane out of my thoughts when I’m doing that… otherwise…”
“Poor D’Arcy.”
“I’ve never gone too far with her, I’ll have you know,” said Imogen
indignantly, “And if she really didn’t want me to, then I wouldn’t, you know that!”
“I do know, darling, and I’m just winding you up.”
“Oh don’t. I do feel guilty sometimes about it as it is… well, not too much, but a little.”
The two of them burst out laughing. Imogen indicated to the waiter that she wanted the bill and got out her credit card to pay.
✽✽✽
Later that afternoon, Imogen came into Bernadette’s office with a sheaf of papers.
“We’ve received the documents from Rhys,” she said.
“OK, what have we got?”
Bernadette moved over to her sofa and Imogen sat down beside her. She shuffled through the papers.
“We’ve got the pleadings for the extradition, and additional papers. It names their chief witness as Kevin Clinton who has been charged with trafficking people for sexual exploitation, which is the main charge, and carries a maximum sentence of fourteen years in jail.”
“I see, and this Kevin Clinton has provided a statement?”
“We will have to obtain all the evidence from the court, but Alison is preparing a notification of representation to be sent to all parties, it should go today once you’ve signed it. However, it’s noted in the pleading that affidavits are to be filed containing the evidence against Callum.”
“OK, so, apart from that?”
“There are actually nineteen Vietnamese women aged from fifteen upwards who were intended for sexual exploitation. Obviously, they did not know it. They have filed for asylum and their claims are being processed. They are currently in temporary housing,” said Imogen reading further.
“What is the basis of their claim?” Bernadette wondered.
“If they are returned, they will be killed by the gang who they paid to smuggle them out here.”
“I wonder why they wanted to come here?”
From what Bernadette knew of Vietnam it wasn’t such a bad place although many lived in poverty. It was a place she had always wanted to visit and now she had Eve, she would love to take her. A fleeting thought of a honeymoon there crossed her mind, although with work commitments this seemed it might prove difficult.
“I don’t know, we should find out.”
“Perhaps we may be able to interview one of them or more, it might provide some useful insights into what happened to them,” Bernadette mused.
“Would they make potential witnesses?”
“I don’t know, it depends on what they do or don’t know, I suppose,” said Bernadette.
“I’ll make enquiries as to whether or how we could interview them,” Imogen said making some notes.
“It would, of course, mean a trip to the UK on expenses,” said Bernadette, smiling.
“With or without partners?” Imogen wanted to know.
“Oh, I imagine we might squeeze in a partner or two.” Bernadette gave her a wink.
“Won’t Andrew object?” Imogen said looking worried.
“He’ll cross charge it to the client, so we’ll have to be good, not go overboard.”
“Oh, D’Arcy will cover any overspill,” Imogen laughed.
“If you say so.” Bernadette shrugged diplomatically.
D’Arcy was worth several million Euro by now and so most things to her were small change. However, Imogen was very circumspect about this subject and she did not want D’Arcy, who was very open-handed, to way feel in any she was being taken advantage of. Bernadette didn’t want to be thought of as taking advantage either.
“If I tell her to, she will,” said Imogen firmly, “And anyway she would want to, she’ll want to come.”
“OK but not to any interviews, or stuff like that. Apart from anything else I don’t want to put either D’Arcy or Eve into any danger or compromising situations.”
“No, of course not, if I know her, she will take Eve shopping down Knightsbridge or something.”
Bernadette laughed. “Tea at Harrods?”
“Exactly, that would be her style.”
“Then see if we need to go and, if we do, ask Alison to figure out places to stay. I don’t want anywhere naff, but not the Ritz or Savoy either, that would not be fair on the client.”
“I’ll figure something out,” Imogen assured her, “I’m not staying in any sort of hovel.”
“Anyway, back to our case…” said Bernadette gently.
“If we are going to the UK then perhaps, we should talk to the UK police involved, if they will talk to us. I mean, we are the defence team after all…” Imogen suggested after some thought.
“It’s not a bad idea, if they would. It’s a shame we can’t talk to their main witness, but that will have to wait until we get him on the stand.”
“So that’s all I can really glean from this, not much, we need to full evidence.”
“OK, so in the meantime let’s see Callum tomorrow and get the bail hearing in progress.”
“Already getting Alison onto Mountjoy and we’ve got a provisional date for Friday for the bail hearing.”
“Wow, fast work, but I hope Alison isn’t overloaded with all this,” said Bernadette anxiously.
“She’s a little stretched, but you said we couldn’t get more help.”
“No, however, I may have to bite the bullet and tackle Andrew on it,” Bernadette sighed.
“Shall I come with you, when you do it?” said Imogen with a smile.
“Yes, why not, we’ll form up a posse and take him on.”
The two of them chuckled over the ludicrous idea of Andrew in cowboy gear.
✽✽✽
Bernadette pulled her car into the driveway and the automatic gate closed behind her. Her house was in a nice area of Dublin in Sandymount. It had a mock Georgian style portico, and windows with wooden shutters. It had three bedrooms upstairs, and downstairs, a kitchen, dining and living room. Now it was not just her home but also Eve’s and she loved that part the most. She opened the door with the keycode, hung up her jacket and kicked off her shoes.
The familiar smell of delicious food wafted through from the kitchen. Eve cooked for them and in the main looked after the house, as well pursuing her newfound art career. Bernadette was content with their domestic arrangements, as was Eve. She was a far better cook than Bernadette for starters.
Bernadette padded barefoot into the living room. Eve was sitting on the sofa wearing a pink shoestring strap short summery dress with a white flower pattern and sketching. She had crossed her legs and was dangling a leather flipflop sandal from one foot. This aroused Bernadette at once. She had a penchant for feet, and also shoes, it was one of her vices which Eve knew only too well. She was certain Eve played it her advantage, since she began to slap the sandal against the bottom of her foot with her toe. She would have heard Bernadette arrive and once her fiancée was standing in front of her, she laid the sketchbook aside and stood up to greet her.
“Hi, my beautiful witch,” said Bernadette playfully.
“Hi, baby, I’m so pleased to see you.” Eve snaked her arms around Bernadette’s neck and planted a kiss on her lips. It turned into something more passionate almost at once.
“Mmm, God you smell delicious,” Bernadette whispered.
“It’s my new perfume, it’s called Intense. Do you like it?”
“Like it, I love it and I love you.”
Unable to help herself, Bernadette ran her hands under Eve’s dress while her fiancée hissed in a breath at her touch.
“Fuck, I love it when you do that,” she breathed.
“Do, you? And how about this?”
Bernadette’s hands roamed gently across Eve’s skin, caressing, softly, and around her breasts. Eve’s nipples hardened at her touch, and Eve laid her head back. Bernadette planted kisses on her neck.
“Oh, God, baby… oh my God,” Eve said squirming with delight.
“And… do you like it when I do this?” Bernadette enquired, her fingers m
oving down between Eve’s legs, finding to her satisfaction that Eve was wet as anything.
“Oh… God… yes… I want… you to….do… that… so much…” Eve gasped, “Oh… oh God… baby… don’t stop… please don’t… stop… ohh.”
Bernadette had no intention of stopping and her fingers continued relentlessly as she felt Eve’s body begin to tense before Eve finally screamed, “Ohh… oh my God… oh… ohh… ohh… ohh,” as her climax washed through her.
Bernadette smiled, holding her tight, pulling her closer. Eve’s body shuddered as she felt the sensations intensify and then subside slowly. Then she smiled.
“I’ve been wanting you to do that all day,” she whispered.
“I know, and I’ve been wanting to do it to you,” Bernadette said kissing her again.
“Shall we have dinner?” said Eve straightening up after a few moments.
“Yes, let’s, I’m starved.”
“And then after dinner, we will have… dessert.” Eve smiled lasciviously.
“Yes please,” said Bernadette catching the allusion to further bedroom activity.
Eve led Bernadette into the dining room, and Bernadette sat at the table to wait. Eve had laid the places as usual and she shortly brought in dishes of rice, salad and Thai green chicken curry.
“Oh God, my favourite,” said Bernadette, “Or one of them.”
“Enjoy.” Eve ladled a portion onto Bernadette’s plate.
“Oh… mmm,” said Bernadette taking a mouthful and savouring it with great appreciation.
Eve poured her a glass of Merlot and then one for herself. Although Bernadette was a big wine buff, her wine intake had been severely curtailed during her diet. Now they had perhaps one or two glasses of an evening and no more, and sometimes just sparkling water.
“You like?” Eve smiled taking her place at the table and serving herself some food.
“I love it, it’s… orgasmic.”
“That’s how I like my food,” Eve giggled, “And my woman too.”
“I do my best,” Bernadette said enjoying another forkful of rice and curry.
“You do better than your best, my darling.”
“Thank you.” Bernadette blew her a kiss.
