Court Out

Chapter Eighteen





My routine of wine and biscuits continues for the next two weeks. Sebastian goes to work, I watch daytime television whilst eating junk and drinking cheap chardonnay. Each day seems to blur into the next and I’ve lost track of everything apart from the television schedule.

Serena has been an absolute star. Not once has she judged my new alternative lifestyle and diet, but has come round most days after court to keep me occupied with wedding issues and general gossip. Tonight is such a night.

“Ewan simply refuses to let me give everyone a Mont Blanc pen as a wedding favour!”

“I’m not surprised!” I exclaim. “Do you know how much they cost? Plus, you are having quite a few people...”

“Only two hundred of my closest friends and family,” she replies sulkily. “Anyway, money has got a little better recently.”

“Oh yes? Has Ewan been promoted?” I enquire. Immediately I recognise my foolishness. “Forget it, please don’t answer that!” I beg. It’s obvious. Serena is earning more because she’s doing my work.

“Shit. Sorry. I shouldn’t have mentioned anything,” she says, coming over to me and putting an arm around me. “This’ll be over before you know it. You’ll be back at work, the case will be dropped and you can forget all about this mess.”

I look up at her, unable to prevent the tears spilling from my eyes.

“Do you really believe that?” I ask in a small voice.

She rubs the back of my shoulders and smiles a kind smile.

“Yes, yes I honestly do.”



Before I know it, it’s the morning of Serena’s hen do. I get up early having decided to spend the day pampering myself and getting ready for an evening of debauchery. My costume arrived yesterday and I’m looking forwards to trying it on later. I know that a few other women from Chambers will be there so if I’m honest, I’m terrified about seeing them. As I walk into the kitchen to make myself some breakfast Pop Tarts, I spot Sebastian sat at the table eating his usual bowl of bran flakes. He looks up at me and smiles.

“Big night tonight then Gaga?” he jests.

“You bet!” I laugh, pulling out a chair next to him. “I sincerely hope I’m not the only one in fancy dress though! Can you imagine?”

He looks at me with a wry smile on his face. “You’ve dealt with worse,” he says seriously, tucking a stray piece of hair behind my ear.

I nod in agreement.

“How very true. Anyway, what are you up to tonight?”

“I’m going out with Ewan and a few of the guys. Nothing too hardcore, just off to the pub then maybe into town if we have the energy.”

“Fair enough. I think we’re off to Zeus, so steer clear if you know what’s good for you! What time are you going to work?”

He looks up at the kitchen clock.

“I’ll be leaving here in about half an hour. Do you need me to get anything from the shop on the way home?”

“No thanks. I imagine I’ll be long gone by then.”

“What have you got planned for the day?” he enquires.

“Well, I’m going to spend the morning trying to sort my hair out and make myself look vaguely human. I know its fancy dress, but even so!”

Sebastian rises and opens the fridge door. He rummages about for a few moments and I can hear him moving food and cartons within.

“What have you lost?” I enquire.

“Just looking for some juice. I think we’re out. Did you get any when you did the shopping?”

I pause and think for a moment.

“No, sorry. It totally slipped my mind.”

“Lauren, I have noticed that you seem to be getting through an extraordinary amount of wine.”

Immediately I stiffen.

“So? I’m over the age of 18.”

“That’s not the point. I’m just worried about you. It can’t be good for you. Plus your diet seems to have, well, changed.”

I stand up abruptly.

“Great so you’re saying I’m a fat alcoholic?”

The look on his face makes it clear that he was thinking no such thing but I’m too angry to care.

“Enjoy work,” I snap sarcastically before storming upstairs into the bathroom and locking the door. He follows me and tries to get me to talk but I’m having none of it.

I run myself a hot bath and immerse myself in the scented bubbles until I’m sure that he’s gone, all the while quite literally stewing over his remark. When I’m wrinkled by the water I get out, wrap myself in a fluffy white robe and pad downstairs, back to the kitchen. If he thinks I’m a bloated lush, then that’s exactly what I’ll give him.

I open the fridge, fish open a bottle of champagne we’d been saving for a special occasion and pop open the cork. From the cupboard I retrieve a new packet of Penguins and take my breakfast up into the lounge. Whilst watching Jeremy Kyle I consume my contraband and I confess, make several return trips to both the fridge and the cupboard to replenish my supply.

I decide to start getting ready at four. I start by applying a skull cap over my dark hair in order to make way for the glossy platinum wig. I line my eyes with black kohl and a smoky grey shadow, finishing with two coats of mascara and some extremely thick and long false lashes. I smile at my reflection in the mirror; this is something that I did in my ‘former life’ and makes me feel almost, almost as if things are back to normal. I colour my lips a dark shade of red and blow myself a kiss. Right, costume time, but before that, I may as well polish off the rest of the bottle of wine I’ve just opened. As I’ve been drinking pretty much all day I feel pretty drunk already, but I’m going to need some Dutch courage to see my former peers later. As I gulp down the cold liquid I feel slightly better about seeing the girls later, I mean, they’ve known me for years, they can’t think ill of me, surely?

I rip open the large brown cardboard box that contains my costume and reach inside for the fabric. I look at it slowly. Even in my alcohol-induced haze I can see that something isn’t right.

Inside the box is not an artfully structured black and silver mini-dress with matching headpiece, not the dress that would hopefully flatter my newly enlarged figure, not the dress that would make me feel ready to paint the town red. I reach into the box and lift out the small folded garment. I pull off the tag with the price and size on and discard it on the floor by my feet, letting the material unravel to reveal the full, horrific extent of my current problem.

It’s a one piece, nude catsuit with yellow police tape placed strategically across the groin and breast area, as seen in the ‘Telephone’ video. Holy crap. How on earth have I ended up with this? I mean, yes, I was somewhat tipsy when I ordered it, but even so? I stop and try to focus my spinning mind on my current predicament. Ok Lauren, just try it on, I think. Perhaps it’ll be like a giant Spanx suit.

I place my left foot into the left leg and pull. Shit. Double shit. I guess that weeks of eating junk food has had the obvious effect on my figure. Instead of gliding easily up my body, the costume is stuck around my knee, refusing to budge. I scrabble around on the floor for the tag to see exactly what size I bought; perhaps they sent the wrong size too? The numbers printed in clear black and white immediately put pay to that theory.

I spend what seems like the next half an hour wrestling and wriggling into the thick lycra and eventually after much sweat, manage to get it up around my neck. I don’t need to look in a mirror to know that every lump and bump is on display, every flaw, every roll can be seen by all and sundry. If it wasn’t for the fact I have on more make up than a troupe of clowns, I would cry.

I survey my options. One, don’t go. I can’t do that to Serena, she’d never forgive me. Two, go but in normal clothes. Again, she’d kill me. Three, pour myself another drink and try to pretend I look good in this ridiculous get-up. We have a plan.

I add the wig to complete the ensemble and the requisite yellow tape and head back to the fridge. There’s only one bottle left and I open it. I attempt to do some maths, I’m sure there were four bottles in here this morning? That can’t be right.

As I work my way through the comforting liquid, my mobile rings and when I answer it, I’m connected to Serena.

“Hi biatch, we’ll pick you up in five,” she yells.

I can hear the sounds of merriment coming from the car she’s obviously in. Someone is whooping in the background and I can hear the strains of music with the bass turned up.

“Ok. You promise me everyone else is in fancy dress, right?” I ask, making sure I’m not about to be humiliated on a number of fronts.

“Yep, even my mum is participating. She looks a little strange as schoolgirl Britney, but at least she’s made the effort!”

I disconnect the call and drain my glass. I really, really hope that the focus tonight will be on Serena and not on me. I don’t know how I’ll cope if everyone is asking me about what happened.



I’m interrupted from my train of thought by the sound of a loud car horn from outside. I open the door and am confronted by a pink Hummer limo at the bottom of my drive. Dear God.

I wrap my long black coat around me and hurry to the vehicle, keeping my head down in the event that someone with a camera is nearby. As I enter the vehicle I’m aware of camera flashes and am about to have a nervous breakdown when I realise that it’s Dianne, Serena’s sister taking photo’s of the group. I must admit they have all gone to town with their costumes.

Diana is in a red PVC catsuit with a wig not dissimilar to mine, Cassie is in a Union Jack mini-dress with ginger wig and Serena has managed to find a copy of Kylie’s infamous white one-piece. We must look absolutely insane. I’m not ready to show them my particular choice of iconic outfit yet though.

“So, what’s the plan?” I ask. I have to shout pretty loud to make myself heard over the shrieking girls but Cassie catches my words.

“Lauren! Hey, how are you? I’ve been trying to call you!”

She looks pretty concerned about me, so I smile to try and put her at ease. She seems genuine, so I guess I can give her the benefit of the doubt.

“Hey Cassie. I’ve been, well, I’ve been just trying to sort a few things out. Sorry I haven’t returned any of your calls.”

“Don’t worry about it! As long as you’re ok. I think we’re off to get some food before hitting town properly.”

“What? Dressed like this?” I exclaim. “You haven’t seen what’s under this coat! Plus, there is no way I can order red wine with Serena sat anywhere near me, I always spill it on people in white!”

We both start to giggle and I manage to relax slightly. There are some women from Chambers sat near to the driver’s end of the car, but I think I’ll wait to see if they speak to me before starting to worry about what they might say.

Serena is talking about the wedding. This in itself isn’t particularly surprising, but from the sound of it, she now appears to have spent a small fortune on a twelve-piece orchestra to play at the church.

“I heard a sample of their music on the Internet and I just had to book them!” she exclaims. “They’ve played at all the big celebrity weddings, so naturally I wanted them.”

“They must have cost a fortune!” exclaims Jodie, Ewan’s sister.

“Yes,” agrees Serena, “But I’m totally worth it!”



I actually have a great time in the restaurant. I sit between Cassie and Serena, opposite Dianne and their cousin Lynne. The girls keep me in stitches with stories of Lynne’s new boyfriend who refuses to, well, get intimate with her unless Boyzone is playing on the stereo.

“What about Westlife?” Serena howls.

“Nope, no can do,” Lynne replies, her voice muffled through the napkin stuffed into her mouth to try and stem the laughter.

My sides hurt and I’m doubled over; my head is practically on the table as I shake with giggles. Through my drunken haze and underneath the hysterics coming from around me I can hear a conversation taking place further up the table.

“I know!” says a female voice, “I can not believe that she had the gall to come tonight!”

The emphasis on her words is clear. I keep my head down and feel a cold prickling sensation run over me. It has a strange, oddly sobering effect.

“And would you look at the state of her!” says another, unidentified, yet familiar voice. “She’s really let herself go. Why, having clearly put on a good few stone would you pour yourself into that?”

“And the best bit,” the first woman says, struggling through laughter, “The absolute best bit, is given the Telephone video, that she’s come dressed as, dressed as, practically a convict!”

The two women begin to laugh and I sit up abruptly. Serena catches my arm.

“What’s up?” she’s still laughing and all thoughts of running over and throwing something over my former colleagues are forgotten. I can’t ruin her night. I smile and pat her on the arm.

“Boyzone, eh!”



We end up, as planned, in a club called Zeus. I used to come here when I was about 15 and from the look of it, that’s still the average age of the clientele. Fueled by cheap sugary drinks and far too many shots of tequila, we are dancing like crazy ladies on the stage, watched in either admiration or horror by a group of boys young enough to call their mums to demand a lift home.

I keep forgetting that I’m not wearing my usual sophisticated drinking ensemble and shocking myself when I catch sight of my reflection in the mirrored walls. I’ve managed to steer well clear of anyone connected to Chambers, save for Cassie and Serena and refrained, admirably so, from accidentally punching one of the bitches from earlier and passing it off as a dance move.

Serena has insisted on paying for everyone’s drinks all night and is now somewhat worse for wear. She’s managed to lose most of the tape that protects her modesty and has flashed at most of the people in here. Oh well, at least she’s having a good time.

I’ve discovered that no matter how much I drink I don’t seem to be getting any drunker. That being said, I know that this is going to hurt like hell in the morning. Sebastian tried to call me earlier, but I missed it due to the noise. I’m starting to feel a bit bad about snapping at him this morning and I guess I’ll have to apologise to him as soon as I can.

We dance for what seems like an eternity to cheesy pop from the last three decades. I’ve just had to extract Serena from the arms of a spotty seventeen year old and had received abuse from both parties for doing so.

“Come on bride to be, time to make a move!” I shout into her ear.

“Awww, c’mon!” she slurs back, “Just one, one, one, I love him!” she exclaims with a look of triumph.

“I know, which is why you need to get back now.”

She looks at me with wide eyes and nods seriously. I make some vague hand signals to the rest of our party and we head to the door. Serena is the only one with the mobile number for the Hummer driver and her battery is flat. Great.

“Sorry girls, looks like we’ll have to cab it. I’ll go with Serena and Cassie as we live over the same way.”

My proclamation is met with groans and nods of assent but the group disperses. Serena is staggering about and Cassie helpfully props her up under her arm. Between us we manage to guide her to a nearby taxi rank and bundle her into the back. The driver doesn’t look particularly impressed, but remains thankfully silent. I tell him Serena’s address and we move away from the rank. Serena slumps down between us and begins to snore gently.

“She could do with a lie-in,” comments Cassie.

“Really?”

“Yeah, she’s been crazy busy recently. She seems to be totally in demand from all sides at the moment.”

“Wow. Lucky her.”

My not so subtle sarcasm is lost on Cassie who continues, speaking almost reverently.

“Yeah, she’s just had a huge lead brief come in, some high value fraud.”

I remain silent. This really, really hurts despite the huge amount of booze I’ve consumed. “Who’s leading her?” I ask.

“God, I can’t remember his name. You know him, the one from the trial.”

“Which trial?” I ask, before I can stop myself.

“The footballer case,” Cassie replies quietly.

Great, so Corr has decided to keep using members of Chambers after all. So much for his so-called support of me. Before I can voice my thoughts, Cassie continues. “Yeah, after the Hobbs trial he said she’d been invaluable and he wanted to work with her again.”

Wait. What?

“You mean Quinn is leading her?”

“Yeah, it’s going to be a seven month trial too. She’s definitely landed on her feet! I mean, she’s really quite junior to have landed that sort of trial but I guess she made a lasting impression.”

I try to maintain my composure and smile at Cassie like this is all perfectly normal.

“Have you seen much of Rivers?”

She looks at me blankly. “Who?”

“You know, the guy who Quinn lead in the Hobbs trial” I push. A flash of recognition appears on Cassie’s face.

“Ohhh! Andrew. Yeah, sure, he and Serena are as thick as thieves, always in the pub together. He seems like a nice guy.”

“Yeah, he is. Have you met his fiancée? She’s called Lucinda.”

Cassie hiccups and considers this. “Nope. I presumed he was single. Between you and me, I think he might have a little crush on Serena. They do seem quite close for just colleagues.”

We arrive at Serena’s and I haul her out of the cab and drag her up to her front door. She is now totally out of it, mumbling incoherent phrases and names. As I open the front door and push her up the stairs I wonder if Ewan is in. We are making quite a lot of noise and I haven’t heard any signs of life coming from above, so I guess not.

I eventually manage to get her into the bedroom and put her on top of the bed covers. I’m sweating from the effort and I can feel my costume cutting in to me at the seams. I decide to leave Serena’s costume on; Ewan can deal with it when he comes in. I manage to tuck her in and turn to leave.

As I reach the doorway her voice becomes clearer and I’m just about able to make out what she is saying. Over and over she is repeating the same phrase. I wouldn’t bet on it, but I think it’s “I’m sorry.”