a selection of makeup that I’ll need to make me look human. Satisfied that I have the necessities I turn to leave. I hesitate and think about my departure. I can’t really leave all this here can I? Sebastian will have a fit if he sees this. Inspiration strikes and I run to the kitchen and grab a plastic carrier bag. I return to the mess and start grabbing handfuls and stuffing them into the bag. Half empty bottles of perfume, old cotton buds, dried up highlighters, numerous letters and all manner of personal effects find themselves unceremoniously dumped in an old Tesco bag which I hide under the table.
I silently resolve to sort it out properly when I get home. Or maybe tomorrow. My Mulberry feels about a stone lighter and I run to the door calling up to Sebastian to say goodbye.
“I’m off now!” I shout. “I’ll probably be a bit late back, but I’ll give you a call later!”
“Ok!” he replies, “Good luck! Love you!”
“Love you too!” I reply happily.
I robe up in one of the conference rooms at court, feeling the familiar swell of satisfaction when I put my wig on. I know it sounds daft but when I’m all rigged up in my court dress I feel a bit, well, untouchable. People look at you like you’re important; people respect you because of what you’re wearing.
The first time I got to wear all the kit was when I was called to the bar six years ago. Along with Serena, Lucinda and Holly, the rest of my peers went down to London so that the ceremony could be performed. It was a really elaborate ritual, like something from a Dan Brown novel and I had to process up the long aisle at Temple Church and bow to a load of very senior barristers and judges in a certain order. Come to think of it, they actually filmed part of the Davinci Code there!
When it ended, it meant I was officially a barrister and would be allowed to practice. That was such an amazing night, aside from Lucinda making a spectacular fool out of herself. I really think my dad was proud of me. He’s normally a man of few words but even he couldn’t help but be impressed by the high caliber company and the pomp and circumstance of the night.
I spoke to mum earlier in the week and apparently Dad’s been following the trial avidly on the news and according to an anonymous source (Mum’s friend Teresa from badminton) he’s even been telling some of his patients that I’m involved in a high-profile murder case!
I open a MAC compact and quickly check my reflection and for the millionth time marvel at the godsend that is concealer. I snap it shut and leave the room turning off the light as I go.
As I enter the now very familiar courtroom, I can sense an odd atmosphere amongst the parties. Quinn is stood next to Rivers and they are talking between themselves in animated tones. I presume Quinn must be gearing up for his speech.
I can’t see Corr anywhere, which is odd, but there are a number of police officers waiting next to the jury box. The court clerk is talking to the representative from the Crown prosecution Service and from the look on the former’s face, there appears to be some juicy gossip being shared. Lucinda is sat in the public gallery looking even worse than before. Her skin has a slightly grey tinge and from the look of her swollen, red eyes framed by dark circles, I’d say it’s a safe bet that she’s been crying.
The door that the Judge uses to enter and exit the room opens and Corr appears followed closely by Mr. Justice Wynne. I look at them, completely confused as to why Corr would have been in the Judge’s room with him. Corr returns to his seat without speaking to or looking at anyone and the Judge checks that all of the barristers are in court before addressing us in a low, solemn voice.
“We have a problem. If I could please ask all four counsel to join me in my room then the matter can be discussed. I’d also like a member of court staff present to take a note of our discussions.”
What on earth is going on? I wonder, looking around frantically for some clues as to what this ‘problem’ could be. Nothing is forthcoming so I tap Corr on the