hand into Serena’s face, displaying a diamond engagement ring roughly the size and shape of a Ring Pop. It reminds me of the one Jordan had during her first marriage.
Holly pipes up for the first time.
“Isn’t it amazing? Lucinda designed it herself. It’s three carats of near flawless diamond. It makes her hand look so elegant.”
Serena is quick off the mark.
“Yes, lovely hand, shame about the fa-” sadly she’s cut off before she can finish.
“Ohh, how sweet, you have one too Serena!” interrupts Lucinda, noticing Serena’s fourth finger is also adorned with a stone. “Oh, no wait, mine isn’t from Elizabeth Duke. Shame,” she says with mock pity in her voice, “Maybe next time.”
Luckily, before Serena can register this comment, Lucinda continues. “I’m currently working for a firm of solicitors in the city as an in-house consultant. You know, a specialist. I’ve been allowed to instruct Andrew on this huge case we have coming up. I’d love to tell you about it, but it’s all very hush hush, massive media interest, very famous client. Not like the pondlife you two have the privilege to represent. Shame, it must be so unsatisfying for you, moving from one pub fight case to another.”
“By in-house specialist, do you mean tea girl?” I ask.
Holly shoots me daggers. Lucinda ignores me.
“The only downside is that the trial is being held here!” At this, she assumes a face that makes her look like she has caught whiff of something unpleasant. “Andrew and I have come up to look at somewhere to stay for the trial. I mean, who would commute when you can have a luxury hotel suite?”
I decide to humour her. “Who indeed?”
Serena finally finds her tongue “So when do we have the honour of your residence in the city?”
“Oh not for about a month, I’ll make sure I look out for you when the trial starts. If I see any desperate looking cases, I’ll point them in your direction. Or in your case Serena, any personal shoppers.”
With that she turns on her stiletto heel and strides towards the four men across the room that she entered with. Holly looks stunned at having been left alone with us and confusion flickers across her face as she decides whether or not she was supposed to follow Lucinda. Eventually she mumbles something which sounds like it could be “Goodbye” and practically runs over to her mistress. I mean friend.
“What a total nightmare,” I say. “I always hoped that her personality was an act she used at Bar School as some sort of self-defence mechanism to protect herself from criticism. Not so then.”
“Nope.” replies Serena. “That woman wouldn’t know the difference between self-defence and self-pleasure, which might explain her abysmal criminal law final marks!”
“Why, of all places did she have to re-surface here?” I postulate, “Have we done something terrible lately to upset the karmic balance of things? Have you been kicking puppies again Serena?”
She laughs, then her face becomes downcast.
“Hey!” I take her hand “What’s wrong? If you have been kicking puppies then obviously I can’t condone that but-”
“It’s just some of the things she said. How can it be fair that an uber-bitch like Lucinda gets everything handed to her on a plate whilst I have to struggle to make ends meet?”
I let this go. “Well at least you can rest assured that you have the lovely Ewan. Can you imagine the man who has to vow to live with her until death parts them? God, for their wedding present I’m tempted to pass on the details of a hitman. Poor sod!”
“Yeah,” she agrees. “He’s probably really hideously ugly and just marrying her for her father’s money. I mean, he’s a criminal barrister so he’s hardly going to be Mr. Rich.”
“Too true, I bet not only did she design that ring, she probably had to pay for it herself.”
This revelation cheers Serena up instantly and she drains the dregs from her glass.
“My round!” I say, standing up and stretching my legs from their cramped position. I steel myself to force my way to the bar, a veritable rugby scrum at the best of times.
The mood lighting makes it difficult to see where I’m going and within about a minute I’ve already dented my shins on various poorly placed low tables. As I reach the bar and start making attempts to attract the attention of the harassed looking bar staff I feel a firm hand pinch my bum. I ignore this, as one might ignore the first