Court Out - By Elle Wynne Page 0,80

stomach growing as I envisage the meeting.

“That’s ridiculous!” he explodes. “How can he expect you to go in today, after everything that has happened to you! Surely he can give you a few days to let things settle, allow you to try and come to terms with this?”

“Apparently not,” I say wearily. “He’ll just want to read me the riot act about talking to the press and work out what the official line should be. It’s probably better that I get it over and done with so that I can get back to work and try and get back to normal.”

“Do you want me to come too?” he asks, reaching over to hold my hand. For a moment, I waiver. I would love Sebastian to come, but I’m supposed to be a big girl now; I need to act professionally and remind everyone that I’ve done nothing wrong, not hide behind my boyfriend.

“Thanks, but no. I’ll be fine.”

We both know I’m lying but he simply nods and reaches for my hand. He squeezes it and I feel comforted by the reassuring pressure.

“Well I’ve got to go in to work, but the very least I can do is drop you off.”

I start to protest but he cuts me off before I have a chance to mount any successful argument.

“I won’t take no for an answer,” he continues, “That’s final.”

I grab him in a tight hug and feel the familiar prick of tears at my eyes.

“Thanks,” I eventually manage to reply.

I stand and stare at the outside of Chambers, amazed at how unfamiliar my place of work looks to me now. The red bricked building looks formal and intimidating and the feeling of dread in the pit of my stomach is rising. The best thing to do is to get this over with as soon as possible, rather like pulling a plaster off.

As I walk into the foyer I keep my head low and pray silently that I don’t see anyone I know. I decide not to risk getting caught in the lift by a colleague and choose instead to brave the back staircase.

The inevitable happens after three flights of stairs. I see a pair of well polished black leather brogues descending in front of me and look slowly up to see who it is. I instantly recognise Charles Fayre, who joined Chambers a few years before me. He’s someone who I’ve always got on with and have spent many a drunken night with in the pub. Sebastian and I went to his wedding last year. I let out an audible sigh of relief that out of everyone, I’ve bumped into a friendly face.

I give him a weary smile as we meet. “Heya” I venture, stepping to his side so we can talk.

“Hi,” he replies in a quiet voice. He’s not looking at me; he seems far more interested in a damp spot of wallpaper near to my left shoulder.

“So,” I venture, in an attempt to keep things normal “What’s new with you? How’s Cathy?”

“She’s fine. Look, I have to get to court,” he says in an odd voice. It sounds like he is annoyed with something.

“Court? But it’s lunchtime?”

To my surprise, he doesn't reply and simply brushes past me to walk down the stairs. It takes me a few seconds to find my voice.

“What’s your problem?” I shout after him before I can stop myself. He stops, but doesn’t turn around. His voice reaches me anyway.

“I always thought more of you Lauren.”

I’m lost for words as I watch him walk away. In that second the last vestiges of confidence I have seem to desert me and I contemplate turning and running, going home and hiding until this all goes away. Just as I am about to put this plan into action, I imagine Sebastian’s reaction to my sudden reappearance. I know he’d be furious about Charles’ rudeness, but he’d be right in pointing out that I have to sort this out at some time; better late than never.

I stand and continue up the next two flights of stairs, giving myself a mental pep talk at the same time. By the time I reach Alexander’s landing my adrenaline levels have reached maximum levels and I’m itching for a fight.

“Lauren? Come in,” calls Alexander after I firmly rap on the wooden door leading to his room. I push the door forcefully open and stride in. Attack has to be the best form of defence in this situation. I launch into my speech before

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