Court Out

Chapter Sixteen





The call comes shortly after eight, waking me from a restless sleep where I’m tormented by dreams of being on trial, facing a courtroom packed with my peers, friends and family, watching them give evidence against me, telling the faceless jury of my dishonesty. The shrill ring of my phone interrupts my vision of seeing myself being cross-examined by my father about my lack of scientific prowess.

“Hello?” I croak.

“Lauren, it’s Alexander.”

My blood runs cold as I realise I have just been connected to my Head of Chambers. I know that at least one of my many answerphone messages is from him too, but I just couldn’t bear to listen to any of them last night. Sebastian stirs beside me and I quickly get up and walk into the bathroom, shutting the door behind me.

“We need you to come into Chambers today,” he continues.

“I really don’t think I’m up to it,” I reply in a weak voice. At the moment, I can’t think of many things worse than facing members of Chambers who all no doubt know about what I’m supposed to have done.

“I thought you’d say that, but I’m afraid I’ll have to insist,” Alexander states firmly. “I’ll expect you at one. Please do not go to the clerks room, come straight to my room.”

I disconnect the call and sit on the side of the bath. I really, really do not want to see anyone I know right now. I half-heartedly wash my face and brush my teeth. My hair has kinked badly in my sleep and I scrape it back into a low bun. By the time I get back into the bedroom, Sebastian is sat up in bed looking at me expectantly.

“Sorry, did I wake you?” I ask.

“The phone did. Who was it?”

“Alexander. I’ve been summonsed to his room to face the music,” I say, the knot of anxiety in my 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 he can continue.

“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 f*cking 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 she gives me a comforting pat on the leg.

“John? We’re in here,” she calls.

As if on autopilot I straighten my clothes and sit up straighter. Just as I’m brushing crumbs from my trousers, he walks in. Is it my imagination or does he look older than normal? The lines around his eyes seem deeper and his hair is somewhat disheveled, far from his usual military perfection.

“Hi Dad,” I venture in a small voice.

He doesn’t reply but he remains standing next to the doorframe, looking at me with an expression I don’t recognise. Mum and I hadn’t got round to discussing his reaction to my arrest, but seeing as this is the man who was upset with one of my A-grade GCSE’s (It should have been an A*, naturally) then it’s a safe bet he hasn’t taken the news of my criminal career well.

Right, the best thing to do is to try and get my version of events in before he can start to tell me off. I take a deep breath and close my eyes.

“Dad-”

Before I can properly start my sentence, all the air is knocked out of my lungs and I feel an immense pressure on me. I open my eyes and nearly break down when I realise my father has enveloped me in his arms and is squeezing me, tight. He is stroking my hair and whispering over and over into my ear,

“No-one messes with my little girl. No-one messes with my little girl.”

By the time I get home my emotions are well and truly mixed. I’m staggered at the amount of unconditional support I’m being shown by Sebastian and my parents, but still utterly horrified that some people clearly think I’ve done something wrong, something criminal.

I figure now is as good a time as any to face the music and go through the messages on my phone to see what people want. My parents and Sebastian’s messages account for about half of the voicemails and texts. The rest are from an assortment of people, Roger, Cassie, Rivers and Serena. To her credit, Serena has left about five voice messages and sent about thirty texts. I really should call her back. She answers after the first ring.

“Lauren? Where are you? What happened?” she shrieks in a loud, piercing voice.

“Hi Serena.”

“Oh my God Lauren, they’ve been saying all sorts. It’s not true is it?”

“Well that would depend on what they’ve been saying, wouldn’t it?”

“Lauren stop it! You have to tell me what happened,” she persists.

“Well, it’s quite straightforward really. Apparently I tried to bribe a juror to convict Hobbs. Unsuccessfully.” I don’t know why I’m being facetious, I really can’t help it.

There’s silence on the other end of the line and I can hear Serena breathing, thinking about what to say to me. I decide to put her out of her misery.

“Look, I haven’t been charged with anything. Yet. Look, we both know I didn’t do anything, so I’ve just got to sit and wait to see what happens next.”

“Holy crap. How are you?” she continues in a smaller voice.

“I’ve been better. I must admit being kicked out of Chambers didn’t do much for my mood earlier though.”

“What!” she explodes, “They’ve thrown you out of Chambers? They can’t do that!”

“Ok, I haven’t been kicked out, I’ve been suspended. Semantics really.”

“We need to appeal. Have you spoken to Alexander?”

I give a bitter laugh.

“You could say that. He was the one who suspended me and pretty much said he thought I did it. I mean come on, this is me we’re talking about! He obviously, even after all these years doesn’t know me at all.”

“F*ck,” she replies.

“F*ck,” I agree.

We talk for a little while longer then I cry off, pretending that someone is at the door as a means to end the call. To her credit, Serena seems to be genuinely distressed, which makes a refreshing change from the rest of Chambers. She’s promised to try and rally support on my behalf and spread the word of my innocence. Whilst I suspect this may well be a lost cause, a tiny part of me hopes that it will work.

I don’t bother replying to any of the other messages, instead deleting them all. I’m trying to pretend that nothing is wrong, but my ostrich-like approach keeps being ruined by the constant beeping of my phone informing me that someone else has sent me a message. I had a tentative look at my Facebook account earlier and to my horror found that people had posted comments about my arrest on my wall. All from concerned ‘friends’ of course, but it’s had the net effect of informing close to 300 people about my current predicament. Fantastic.

Sebastian comes in to the room and slams the door behind him. He doesn’t look happy. Scrap that, he looks furious.

“What’s up?” I query.

He runs his hand through his hair and looks up at me. His expression is one of fury, his eyes are blazing with something close to hatred.

“Sebastian? You’re scaring me”

In an instant, his expression snaps back to concern and he rushes over to take my hand.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to. I’m just, well, I’m totally…” he trails off. “Don’t, under any circumstances turn on the TV.”

I may be a bit dippy sometimes, but I’m not stupid. The reality of his comment hits me like a sledgehammer.

“Which, which channel?” I manage.

“It doesn’t matter. Just don’t turn on the TV, don’t go online and don’t buy the paper for a few days until the dust has had a chance to settle. Actually, I hate to suggest this, but you might want to consider staying in for the rest of the week. I’ve cleared my diary, so we can watch loads of crap telly and order in.”

“Which channel?” I repeat. There’s a note of determination in my voice which Sebastian obviously hears by the expression on his face,

“All of them,” he replies. “Someone has obviously tipped the press off. They’ve used the footage from your arrest and your Chambers photo.”

“For God’s sake!” I exclaim, “I’ve been arrested for something I haven’t done, exiled from Chambers and treated like a leper by people I thought were my friends. If that wasn’t bad enough they’ve used that sodding picture too?”

Sebastian ventures a smile. Before I can register what I’m doing, despite everything, I find myself returning it.