around her eyes. "I'm afraid we have no knowledge of Dr. Maitland's other commitments," she said, her voice revealing no trace of the irritation I was sure she was starting to feel.
"I guess I'll just have to settle for the twenty-fourth, then," I said, pursing my lips.
"And your name is?"
"Blackstone," I said firmly. "Sarah Blackstone."
Not a flicker. The receptionist wrote the name in the half-past three slot. "And a phone number? In case of any problems?"
I gave her my home number. Somehow, I don't think she had the same problems in mind as I did.
I had time to kill before I headed over to South Manches¬ter to pick up Debbie for our prison visit, but I didn't want to go back to the office. I hate violence and I don't like putting myself in situations where criminal assault seems to be the only available option. I cut down through Castlefield to the canal and walked along the bank as far as Metz, a bar and Mittel European bistro on the edges of the city's gay village. Metz is so trendy I knew the chances of being spotted by anyone I knew were nil. I bought a bottle of designer mineral water allegedly flavored with wild Scottish raspberries and settled down in a corner to review what little I knew so far.
I'd been taken aback when Alexis had revealed that she and Chris had been consulting Helen Maitland for six months. After all, we were best buddies. I had secrets from Richard, just as Alexis had from Chris. Show me a woman who doesn't keep things from her partner, and I'll show you a relationship on the point of self-destructing. But I was pretty certain I had no secrets from Alexis, and I'd thought that was mutual. Even though I understood her motives for not telling me about something so illegal, to discover she'd been hiding something this big made me wonder what else I'd been kidding myself about.
Alexis and Chris had been told about Dr. Helen Mait¬land - in total confidence - by a close friend of theirs, a lesbian lawyer who'd been approached very cautiously by another couple who wanted to know the legal status of what they were planning to do. Because she knew about Alexis's and Chris's desire to have a child, their lawyer friend introduced them to her clients. I sincerely hoped the Law Society wasn't going to hear about this - even two years of a law degree were enough for me to realize that what was going on here wasn't just illegal, it was unethical too. And let's face it, there aren't enough lawyers around who act out of compassion and concern for the prospect of losing one of them to be anything other than bleak.
Alexis had phoned the Compton Clinic and made an appointment for her and Chris to see Dr. Maitland the following Sunday. Obviously, the word had spread since then, judging by the delay I'd faced. She'd been told, as I had been, to go to the back door of the clinic, as the main part of the building was closed on Sundays. Alexis had told me that the initial consultation made interviewing bereft parents look as easy as finding a nonsmoking seat on a train. Dr. Maitland had offered nothing, instigated nothing. It had been Alexis and Chris who had to navi¬gate through the minefield, to explain what they wanted and what they hoped she could do for them. According to Alexis, Helen Maitland had been as stiff and unyielding as a steel shutter.
In fact, she'd nearly thrown them out when she was taking their details and Alexis admitted to being a jour¬nalist. "Why did you tell her?" I'd asked, amazed.
"Because I wanted her to work with us, soft girl," Alexis had replied scornfully. "She was obviously really paranoid about being caught doing what she was doing. That whole first consultation, it was like she was determined she wasn't going to say a word that would put her in the wrong if someone was taping the conversation. And then she was taking down all these details. Plus she insisted on leaving a three-week gap between the first and second appointments. I figured she must be checking people out. And I reckon that if what she found out didn't square with what she'd been told, you never got past that second appointment. So I had to tell her, didn't I?"
"How come she didn't throw you out then and there?" The familiar