Was he slagging off my nose? Saying it was too small?
‘You’re worried I think your nose is too small, aren’t you?’
I nodded.
‘Go and get changed, crazy person.’ He pointed at the bedroom, flopping down in the space I had left on the sofa.
In all the flower/nose excitement I failed to ask him where he had spent the morning. His squash racket hadn’t moved from the rack by the door and he hadn’t been out running.
Luke rested his head back on the sofa. ‘So, tell me about last night,’ he said, when it was clear I wasn’t going anywhere. He pulled me into a hug as I sat back down.
I had told him about Amy’s hen do, memories patchy and blurred, and we had laughed and eventually I had got dressed and Luke had made me food and let me finish my work. And then we’d gone to bed ridiculously early.
So I should have felt a lot better by now. Instead I wanted to weep as I was called through to the court, my scalp itchy and hot under my wig as I adjusted it outside the heavy oak double doors, nausea at the clash of beeswax polish and mothballs.
The hearing didn’t take long and I was soon back in the corridor, slumped on a bench and psyching myself up for the public transport ahead. A familiar voice called my name and I sat up quickly, smoothing at my hair.
‘Lottie, hey.’ A figure took a seat beside me.
It was Toby, an absurdly slick and good-looking solicitor who often sent me work. He was clean-shaven and smelt of lemons, skin radiant, exuding health. Angling myself away from him I nodded a quiet hello, mouth clamped tight in case I still smelt of drink.
‘I’m glad I bumped into you. I was with my boss and Alan only yesterday at a drinks party and your name came up.’
Alan was my head of chambers so immediately I started an internal panic. Why had my name cropped up? What had they discussed? I mentally scanned the last few cases he’d sent me for problems, still none the wiser. The same creeping feeling I got when I saw a policeman, as if suddenly I would remember the terrible murder I’d committed, stole over me as I continued to wrack my brains for something to confess. Toby was smiling, though, even rows of white teeth good enough for any Colgate advert.
‘Don’t look so worried. He was gushing about you, determined that you’ll be the youngest silk they’ve ever had, etc, etc. Full of all the wonders you’ve pulled off . . . ’
I felt myself swell with the praise, wriggling upright. ‘Oh, well, I’m sure—’ I bumbled a response, grateful when Toby cut me off.
‘Actually, I’ve got a case for you. The client has just fired someone on it. He allegedly rammed his ex-wife with the family car but he claims he didn’t know it was in Drive mode. Want it?’
‘Always.’ I grimaced at the bare details. ‘Everyone deserves a defence,’ I stated as a mantra.
‘Quite.’ Toby nodded earnestly. ‘And perhaps one day we could go for lunch? Always good to get out of the office.’
Something in his look, his eyes darkening, his lowered voice, made me bite my lip. ‘Lunch would be . . . ’ Lunch would be what, Lottie? For a start there was a code of conduct to adhere to, ensuring barristers weren’t seen to bribe solicitors to send them work. And Toby and I weren’t friends, so what was this? And Toby was absurdly good-looking, so there was that too.
I hadn’t spoken in what felt like an age. ‘Great,’ I finished.
Toby thrust his card at me. ‘My mobile is on that one. I think you’ve only got the office line.’
I pocketed it with what I hoped was a normal smile. My skin felt taut across my face. Maybe this was normal and I had just been with Luke too long so I didn’t know the signs. He didn’t seem to be reacting in the same way.
‘Well, give me a call when you’re around,’ he said cheerfully, getting up and straightening his jacket.
‘I will,’ I said, looking up at him, trying not to stare too long. His face was so symmetrical.
‘I’ll get that brief over to you then.’
‘Great,’ I said again as if I only knew this one word.
‘Great,’ he repeated, his voice slightly mocking, a smile lifting the side of his mouth.
As he walked away I shook off the exchange, holding the card