I sit and plough through the exhibits in the case, making endless notes about matters I now know inside out. Six PM comes and my phone lights up as it receives an incoming call. I know it is Rivers and for a moment consider ignoring it. Whilst my brain is contemplating this, my hand picks up the phone and answers his call.
I listen to the voice in my ear and process his suggestion that we meet in ten minutes at Blue, an underground champagne bar not far from Chambers. I make a few noises of assent and disconnect the call. I root through my bag and assemble my make up on the desk in front of me. As if on autopilot, I refresh my face with a liberal re-application of my usual products and add a slick of plumping lipgloss for good measure.
It doesn’t take me long to reach the bar and I hold carefully on to the bannister of the stairs as I make my way down to the dim room below. The bar is pretty empty and I spot Rivers straight away. He has his back to me and is drinking from a large glass of red wine. A group of girls in the corner are totally checking him out, whispering and looking in his direction, but he appears to be oblivious to this.
I pat him on the shoulder and he turns around. To my surprise, he envelops me in a tight hug and I can feel him inhale the scent at the nape of my neck. I pull back but he leaves his hand at the base of my spine.
“Lauren. Great to see you. Thanks for coming,” he murmurs into my ear.
I pause, completely wrong-footed. “No problem. What can I do for you?” As soon as the words are out of my mouth I could kick myself. What can I do for you? Could I sound any more like I wanted this to be an illicit encounter?
“I just wanted to have a chat. Go through some bits with you. I know Corr can be a bit anti-social at times, Sam used to laugh about it actually.”
This revelation stops my thought process like a brick wall. Sam had problems engaging with Corr too? Does that mean he doesn’t think I’m a complete loser? Rivers is staring at me and obviously waiting for a response. I laugh and turn towards the bar.
“Corr? He’s a genius. Now, what bits of the case can I help you with?” I ask. I may be a clumsy, dippy excuse for a barrister but there is no way on earth I would be stupid enough to engage with my opposition in a bitching session about my leader.
A flash of an unreadable expression appears across Rivers’ face and his hand squeezes my waist.
“Let me get the drinks in and we can go through them.”
He beckons to a bored looking barman and orders a bottle of red, then taking me by the hand, leads me to a booth in the corner. The music is a slow, seductive number and across the candlelit table I can see his perfect profile as he glances out towards the room. A waitress brings a bottle of wine over with two clean glasses and I feel a stab of guilt that this would totally look to her like we are on a date.
An hour or so later we have finished the bottle of wine and have discussed most of the non-contentious points of the evidence. I glance at my watch and realise that I really have to get going if I’m going to complete the work that needs to be done by tomorrow.
“I’m going to have to love you and leave you I’m afraid,” I say to Rivers, gathering my bag and coat together from the chair next to me.
“Already?” he asks, looking concerned that I’m abandoning him.
“It’s Tuesday night!” I exclaim. “Plus, wont Lucinda be wondering where you are?”
A shadow crosses his face and I instantly regret bringing her up.
“She’s with Holly in London tonight, they’re working on table decorations,” he replies, getting to his feet to escort me out. I rise to my feet, grateful that he has drunk the majority of the wine so I can safely drive home.
“Ok, well thanks for the drink, I’ll see you tomorrow.” I say making my way to the bottom of the stairs. He follows me and I turn to say goodbye.