not seeing Sarah grow up. Of being a terrible mother. And I watched my back. Quietly and consciously I watched my back. Now I hear that phrase so often from my male clients, with the same bile in their voices, that the only emotion it strikes in me is sadness because now I know when either party says this, they’ve lost the plot. And I’ve got to help Benson find it again, for his sake as much as his children’s.
‘If you need a counsellor to talk to, I know a very good one. I realise it’s a very emotional time for you, Mr Benson, but if you can control your anger, you will benefit. As I’ve said, I know a very good one, and they can help in such matters.’
Silence, then, ‘Thank you, Ms Chamberlayne.’
‘Please call me Hazel.’
‘Thank you, Hazel.’
‘I will be working on your case with our new partner, Joe Ryan. He’s very efficient, highly regarded, and I will be briefing him fully on your case this afternoon. He will be assisting me.’
‘Does that mean my bills will double?’
‘No. When he’s working on the case, I won’t be, and he’s cheaper by the hour than I am.’
Mr Benson laughs. Which is good, although I think he’s probably thinking along the lines of another woman who’s costing him a lot of money.
‘Good to know.’
‘If you need anything else, please don’t hesitate to call me.’
‘At £300 an hour, Hazel, I may think twice about it.’
‘I know, but it may save you more than that if you have some doubts.’
I put the phone down, my left ear still slightly stinging from Benson’s screeching and stare out the window of Chamberlayne, Stapleton and Ryan. One of the top companies specialising in matrimonial law. I sit blue-suited, hair up in a loose ponytail in my small, white, slightly untidy office with shelves up to the ceiling on one wall, and a very large print by Nelson Mandela I bought at the Ideal Home Show a few years ago. The one with a lighthouse which I find very calming to look at and even chills clients like Mr Benson. My office looks out over Chancery Lane, down to the street that is quietly buzzing with more blue-suited people, hurrying to their offices with trays of Caffé Nero coffees and bags of bagels for partners and barristers too lazy or superior to get their own. It’s a sunny day, and it makes me smile…full frontal tears, hate and anger first thing on a Monday morning and I can still smile at the sunshine. Perhaps Fran is right. Perhaps I am a romantic after all.
Chapter Four
Meeting Joe Ryan
I’m blushing. I don’t blush. Well, I do, but I haven’t blushed since I was a teenager and I had my first kiss with sexy class lothario John Bullman in Mr Boniface’s fourth year science class. He asked me if he could look at how I was cutting up my very stiff dead rat. I leaned back on my stool and he stole a kiss. I was so surprised I blushed then fell backwards, dead rat flying into the lap of Maxine Levine, who screamed the room down, in much the same tone as Benson did this morning.
I’m blushing because I’ve met Joe Ryan. I have that frisson of electricity running through my body. That double take. That slightly sick feeling. Joe Ryan has something about him. A presence. I don’t know if I think he’s gorgeous. Perhaps not obviously gorgeous in a George Clooney or Jude Law or Brad Pitt sort of way. More in a, well, a thinking woman’s bit of crumpet. Like, well, like, I can’t think of anyone at the moment. So perhaps I’m not that woman. I’m not a thinking woman because I can’t think at the moment. But I think, I know, this man sitting in front of me, has ‘it’. And I like it. Probably an arrogant bastard. No, don’t judge him, Hazel. You haven’t even taken in what he’s wearing. What he smells like. How he’s groomed. Don’t judge. Poor man. He hasn’t even opened his mouth yet. You’ve just walked through the boardroom door, briefly surveyed the room, looked down and he’s sitting there. In fact, he’s in the chair I usually sit in (bit miffed about this actually), light flooding in behind him like some halo. And he’s looked up at me. He’s looked up at me. He’s looking up at me. And I’m blushing.
Brian Stapleton, forty-five, senior partner, good friend, Oxford educated, brilliant and unassuming, living in four-bedroom House and Gardens house on Richmond on The Hill, with his male partner, Orlando, is sitting on Joe’s right. He is clearly amused by my reaction. I’ve known Brian for ten years, worked with him for five. He can usually double guess me—a useful skill in any personal relationship and absolutely necessary in our line of business when we frequently need to confer and agree nonverbally about clients in meetings without saying a word. He’s ever so slightly bitchy, but that only comes out after a few gin and tonics at the local pub after work, but he’s a loyal, caring friend, excellent, ruthless solicitor and very good cook. He’s smiling knowingly at me, the bugger.
‘Joe, this is Hazel Chamberlayne. She was on holiday I believe when we first met, but she took me at my word that your credentials and attitude are impressive.’
He turns to me. ‘Hazel, this is Joe Ryan.’
Joe Ryan smiles, stands and offers me his hand. My instinct is to lean down, suck his fingers very slowly not taking my eyes from his. I’m ovulating at the moment, I logic. That’s why I feel so horny. And I watched Johnny Depp in Pirates of the Caribbean last night. But I didn’t feel like this a minute ago when I was smiling at the sunshine. I must be professional. I must be composed and I must stop blushing.
‘Hello, very nice to meet you.’
I give him a wide warm smile and stop breathing for a second.
‘Very nice to meet you, too.’
We sit facing each other, and Brian starts. ‘Well, Joe will be shadowing you on the Benson case, so he can see how we operate in the firm. If you could brief him this morning, Hazel, and put him up to speed that would be good. Joe’s dealt with lots of cases like this before, so I don’t think anything will be new to him but we operate in a specific way here, Joe, and you’ll learn a lot from Hazel. Benson’s behaving in a very formulaic way, as is his wife, who’s hired a good firm of solicitors, so I don’t think there will be any complications with this one. There’s no issue over child custody, well, not yet anyway, and as far as I know, the demands on both sides are reasonable. But Benson does have a temper, and I believe Hazel has suggested he see a counsellor, just in case he makes an impromptu outburst in court.’
I say nothing. I realise I am still giving Joe Ryan the same wide warm smile I gave him as I entered the room. The smile has become fixed on my face and I feel about twelve. I’m turning forty this year. Hazel, will you please grow up and behave like a grown-up and not like some adolescent schoolgirl. This is silly. This is especially silly as I didn’t want him to join the firm. I didn’t want another partner to join the firm, which was fine as it was, but Brian wanted someone else. More people are getting divorced, he says, so we’ve got to have more people to service them. I was happy as it was and despite my attraction, I’m annoyed he’s here at all. I don’t want him here. And he’s too good-looking. He’ll sleep with the clients. Not good. I must have a word with Brian when Joe’s out of the room.
Brian continues, still smiling wryly. ‘Joe will be in the office next to you, Hazel. We’re hiring a new PA this week, to replace Jennifer who’s gone on maternity
