Taking a breath, I told myself that it wouldnt hurt to look, that my bag, my image, was my calling card. I browsed the central handbag area and a beautiful bag displayed on a plinth caught my eye. It was smaller than the pilot bag I had been carrying around the past five years, its black leather soft and buttery to the touch. It was a QCs bag, I realized, as I picked it up and hunted around for the price tag.
I thought it was you, said a voice behind me.
I turned round and for a second I didnt recognize
him. His hair was damp from the rain, and he was wearing glasses with smart, tortoiseshell frames.
Mr Joy.
Martin, he smiled.
Sorry, Martin, I replied.
Retail therapy?
I started to laugh. You make it sound pleasurable. Im actually on a mercy mission to replace my briefcase.
A woman who doesnt like shopping, he said, his eyes playing with mine.
There are some of us.
Nice bag. He nodded towards my hands and I shrugged.
Well, I cant find the price tag, which is never a good sign. If you have to ask, you cant afford it and all that, I said, feeling suddenly self-conscious to be talking about money with a client.
Youve just had a birthday. Treat yourself.
Yes, my birthday, I said, surprised that he had remembered. That seems a long time ago now.
He held my gaze and I could count the spots of rain on his forehead.
What are you doing here?
My office is round the corner. I wanted to pop into the wine shop downstairs on the way home.
Sounds good.
It had better be.
There was a brief silence. I didnt know whether to make my excuses and leave, although I didnt want to.
So Im seeing you on Friday
I nodded. The First Directions hearing. Its all pretty harmless.
Harmless? Donna has a lawyer whose nickname is the Piranha.
Well, you dont want to know what they call me
Are you going to buy that? His voice was soft and low, with a rasp that hinted of late nights and cigarettes.
I looked down and saw that I was still clutching the bag. My hands had made two long sweat marks across the leather.
Sorry, no. They probably think Im about to steal it, I said, setting it back on its plinth. I should let you go and buy your wine.
He still hadnt taken his eyes off me.
Any last-minute tips for Friday? In fact, while youre thinking, come with me. Come and help me choose a good red.
Before I could even think about refusing him, I was following him down the escalator into the basement, conscious of the thrill heightening as the escalator descended.
Just over here, he said as I followed him into the wine room.
I was impressed. It was large, well stocked and came complete with a bar that looked as if it belonged on the set of some glamorous Manhattan-based movie. There were racks of wine glasses hanging from the ceiling. The light was rich and low.
Drink? asked Martin. Or do you have to rush off?
I think I can stay for one, I replied without even thinking.
We walked towards the bar and he motioned towards a stool. The bartender handed me the menu. I wasnt supposed to drink but I chose the 1909 Smash, a delicious-sounding concoction of gin, peach and mint. After all, thats what you were supposed to do in the movies.
I perched awkwardly on the stool and wished my cocktail would hurry up.
So Fridays court hearing.
I glanced over to him and realized that he was probably trying to get free information. There were no time sheets here at Selfridges wine shop, and suddenly I felt disappointed and duped.
Tips for Friday? I said, as coolly as I could. Just stay calm.
Why, what are you expecting? he said with a slow, cynical smile.
It can get quite heated and that generally doesnt solve anything.
The bartender returned with our cocktails. I took a sip and it was cold, sweet and refreshing on my tongue.
Martin swilled a stirrer around his drink so the ice cubes clinked against the glass.
David speaks very highly of you.
I tried to brush off the compliment with a modest shrug.
Davids good. Really good. And I dont just mean because he recommended me as counsel. Why did you choose him? I asked, always interested in the process.
I googled top divorce lawyer and his name came up.
Thats how it works, is it? Like picking a plumber.
Something like that, he said, looking at me over the rim of his glass.
And thank you for instructing me. Most men prefer male lawyers. I suppose they think theyll be more macho in a fight. So hats off for not thinking like an alpha male.
Actually, I did have my doubts about you, he said, putting his glass on the marble counter.
His candour caught me off guard.
Ouch, I said into my drink.
Im just being honest. I know divorce isnt about winning, but I wanted a QC. And I was worried that youre not.
The word junior is a bit of a misnomer, I said, looking back at him. There are some barristers I know who were called to the Bar thirty years ago and who arent silks, not because theyre not brilliant but because it wasnt the right decision
for them.
Is that the case with you?
Im probably going to apply this year.
So if my case drags on, I wont be able to afford you.