around me and making sure to take deep breaths to hold back the tears.
As I step out on to the concourse there’s a lone figure waiting for me, but it’s not Serena.
“Thank you so much for everything you’ve done for me. You were the only one who had any faith in me and it paid off.”
“I didn’t do anything!” I protest weakly, “It was just a technicality.”
“Well that doesn’t make much difference to me! It’s all over, thanks to you!”
She steps forwards and envelopes me in a hug. I don’t normally encourage physical contact with people I represent, but at this moment, it all just becomes too much for me. Biting my lip hard, I return the pressure for a split second before breaking the embrace.
“Please don’t take this the wrong way, but I sincerely hope I never see you again!” I say.
She laughs “Me too.”
As Ms Goodridge makes her way out of the building I slump into one of the chairs in the public waiting area and watch the security staff mill about on the ground floor. I know I’d better make my way back to Chambers but I just can’t summon the energy to move. This is like a bad dream. It’s not unusual to have a disastrous day in court, but normally it’s of my own making. This time, I know I’ve done nothing underhand and the injustice of it stings.
I’m furious with Serena for trying to blame me for her cock-up and furious with myself for letting me make me feel like I’m in the wrong. She owes me one major apology and I’ll be damned if I’m the one to offer the first olive branch. Knowing Serena, she’s probably in Chambers now telling anyone who’ll listen to her how corrupt I am, negating to mention her actions at all. She’ll probably distort events to include how I hid her exhibits in my handbag.
My thoughts are interrupted by a passing cleaner who gives me a look that must mean I look as bad as I feel. I whip off my wig and gown and bundle them up to carry out and make my way to the front of the building.
I step into the clerks room and am met with the usual hustle and bustle that the hour brings. Papers are being allocated for the next day, briefs lined up on a long bench for the barristers to collect and prepare. I hand the papers from the Goodridge trial to one of my clerks, Alex who looks up in with confusion.
“I thought this was due to finish tomorrow?”
“Well we managed to get it done today, so can you bill it now please?” I didn’t mean to snap but he gives me a wounded look.
“Ok?” he says, “Do you have the page count form?”
It may sound ridiculous but at the end of each criminal matter, the barristers have to agree how many pages of evidence have been accumulated so the right amount can be claimed. I don’t have the form; given the way our trial ended it wasn’t exactly top on my list of priorities. I shake my head at him.
“Never mind. You complete your half now and you can get Serena to do hers when you next see her.”
I take the piece of paper from my brief and jot down the relevant figures. I sign my name on the bottom whilst I assure him that I’ll pass it on to Serena.
I haven’t got the energy to go into what’s happened so I walk over to wall stacked with our pigeonholes. I look for Serena’s initials, SYL and place the sheet in the empty space. I cleared mine out this morning but suppose I’d better have a quick look to see if anything has arrived. It is full.
On the top there are two sheets stapled together. The first is a confirmation that the fax I sent to Corr on Sunday evening arrived successfully. The second is a compliments slip from his Chambers. On it is a single word written in dark green. I make out the letters through the spidery writing and despite the day I’ve had, I smile. The message is simple. ‘Thanks’.
Chapter Nine
Monday whizzes round at a ridiculous speed. I’ve spent every waking hour analysing the Hobbs case. Sebastian has been super supportive, supplying me with endless cups of tea and rounds of hot buttered toast to keep my energy levels up and little books of multicoloured post-its to mark my various bundles. He was initially