“Hi. I presume you want me here to try and help me sort this mess out? I’ve been thinking about it and given the press are undoubtedly all over this, I want Chambers to issue a statement saying that all is being done to help clear my name. I mean, I haven’t been charged yet, so hopefully this all can be sorted out soon.”
I pause for breath and look for the first time properly at Alexander who is stood by the window, facing away from me. He looks immaculate as ever in a charcoal grey suit with a faint chalk stripe. His lime green tie provides a beautiful contrast to his deeply tanned skin.
I hear him sigh and he turns to me, fixing me with a hard look. I find it impossible to break away from the pull of his nearly black eyes, so I wait, silently with baited breath to see what is coming. With hindsight, I really should have seen it coming.
“Lauren, we both know that isn’t going to be possible. Effective immediately you are suspended from Chambers until this is resolved.”
He walks over to where I am stood and casually perches on the end of a wooden desk.
“How dare you?” I question, giving each word the emphasis it deserves “After all I have done for Chambers, all the hours I’ve put in, all the lectures, all the mindless PR? How fucking dare you doubt me.”
I note with a tiny, minuscule sense of satisfaction that my words have had some effect on him.
“It has nothing to do with doubt Lauren, it’s just that, well, we have to be seen to be doing something. Our solicitors have already heard about this and we need to limit the potential damage to our sources of work. I mean, they might think that we all try to bribe juries when we prosecute them.”
As soon as the words are out of his mouth I can see that he regrets them but even so, it takes every fiber of self-control I have not to pick up the paperweight next to me and launched it at his head.
“You’ll regret this, I promise,” I say, turning away from him to leave.
“Threats now Lauren?” he remarks, softly.
“No, as I said, a promise.”
With that I turn on my heel and exit the room, slamming the door behind me for good measure. Whilst I know I should go to my desk to retrieve some odds and ends that I’ll probably need over the coming days, weeks, months, God know, years maybe? I just can’t risk seeing anyone else and having to try and protest my innocence.
As I hurry out of the side door, I rack my brains for a suitable sanctuary. Sebastian has gone to work and I can’t face returning to my empty house and an ever-ringing phone full of messages I just can’t bear to listen to.
I stand, helplessly surveying the traffic for a few minutes before inspiration strikes. My parents! Sebastian was kind enough to phone them and let them know what was happening. I didn’t ask him what their reaction was, but I’m working on the basis that parents are supposed to love and support their children unconditionally. That has to apply in this situation too. Right?
It doesn’t take me long to reach my old home and before I can shut the garden gate the front door is flung open and my mum flies out down the garden path, arms wide open. Siddy who is yapping follows her in close proximity at her heels. “Lauren!”
She rushes over and embraces me tightly, all the while making reassuring noises. The familiar tears come and I don’t bother trying to stop them. She is crying too and we make our way into the house followed by the little dog.
We sit and talk for hours about what has happened and like Sebastian, not once does she question my innocence. By the time we have thoroughly examined every detail I feel able to manage one of the many biscuits she has been pressing on me.
“I just can’t get over it,” she continues “What a terrible mix-up!”
“I know. The worst thing about this whole mess is that so many people think I’ve done something wrong!” I dunk my Hobnob in my tea pensively.
“Don’t you worry about them. They’ll soon see.”
I jump as the front door opens and it takes me a moment to realise that it’s my father coming in from work. I shoot mum a worried glance and