Trinity clung to her, and Layla’s impatience was increasing. Yes, the ice cream was refreshing, but would Trinity ever just give her five minutes to be alone?
‘Where to now?’ Trinity asked once they had finished their ice creams.
‘I might go for a little wander,’ Layla said casually.
‘Layla…’ Trinity swallowed. ‘Zahid said that I wasn’t to leave you alone.’
‘I am not a baby,’ Layla said, ‘I am twenty-four…’
But she went to cross the road without so much as looking and Trinity grabbed her back just in time.
‘You have to wait for the lights to change before you cross.’ Trinity pointed to the traffic lights as they turned green and they started to cross. ‘I’m not leaving you alone, Layla. You can take it up with Zahid this evening if you want to, but for now…’
Trinity’s voice trailed off as they walked across the road and Layla looked to where Trinity’s eyes had been drawn.
Perfect!
‘Oh, look,’ Layla said, walking over to the window of the baby boutique that held Trinity in its spell. ‘Oh, Trinity, look at these sweet clothes—there is nothing like this in Ishla…’ From Trinity’s rapt expression, Layla knew her chance to escape was surely about to come. ‘Let’s go in.’
They did just that.
It wasn’t just clothes on display but teeny-tiny shoes and socks, and little cashmere baby blankets too, and of course, the assistant told Trinity, they’d be only too happy to ship to Ishla.
‘Why would you use a ship when we have a plane?’ Layla asked, but Trinity wasn’t listening—instead she was gazing at those little blankets and had the lost look in her eyes that Layla recognised from her cousins who had had babies.
Layla slipped outside unnoticed, pulling an envelope out of her bag as she did so. If Trinity saw her Layla would say she was just stepping out for some air.
On the street there was a yellow cab driving towards her, and Layla put up her hand as the clips she had watched on her computer had shown her she should.
It obeyed!
The driver did not get out and open the door for her, which made Layla cross, and she was glad that the window was wound down as the driver asked her where she wanted to go for it was a very smelly car.
Layla gave him Mikael’s address. ‘I need you to hurry.’
She did need him to hurry, for Trinity was racing out of the boutique.
‘Layla, wait!’ she shouted.
‘I shall be fine, Trinity.’ Layla threw the letter she had written in Arabic out of the window and shouted instructions to Trinity as the taxi pulled away. ‘Get Zahid to read this and do not tell my father.’
She refused to feel guilty for ruining their honeymoon. Okay, maybe she felt a little guilty—but, Layla reminded herself, Zahid had had this sort of freedom for close to two decades when he had lived in England. Trinity had had it all her life.
Layla just wanted a week.
* * *
Mikael’s day had not improved—not that he let anyone know it. He sat with his face impassive as he listened to the closing arguments from the prosecution barrister, who boo-hooed where Mikael had been expecting him to. A couple of members of the jury were even in tears. But then the prosecution hit him with an argument Mikael had not foreseen.
Deliberately Mikael refused to reach for his notes or react.
He just noted it in his head.
Tomorrow his response would be savage.
Tomorrow he would use every letter of the law that he had at his disposal.
‘I’m gone, aren’t I?’ his client said before heading back to the cells.
‘I haven’t closed yet,’ Mikael responded, though he gave no pep talk. He certainly wasn’t here to reassure or make friends with his clients. All he required from himself was to offer the best defence.
It was a long walk back to chambers.
The press were waiting, with their usual questions, and Mikael duly ignored them. His mouth was dry and he wanted the cool darkness of his office, where the heavy drapes would be closed and he could sit in silence and make notes on all that had been said today.
‘Don’t ask!’ Mikael warned his clerk as he stepped in.
Both knew that it was not going well, and that he would be here all night working on the final details before delivering his closing speech tomorrow.
‘I don’t know how to tell you this—’ Wendy started.
Mikael turned and saw that his very efficient clerk for once looked a touch ruffled.
‘There’s a lady here to see you.’
‘I haven’t got time to see anyone now.’
‘Mikael, I’ve tried to get rid of her…’ Wendy let out a nervous laugh. ‘I’ve never met anyone like her before—you simply can’t say no. I even ended up paying for her taxi because she didn’t have any money—the driver was about to call the police!’
‘Wendy?’ Mikael frowned, because he had never seen his clerk like this. Mikael dealt with the lowest of the low, and had only the best of staff around him—staff that were able to deal with the most difficult of people. ‘Where is she?’ he asked, glancing into the small waiting room.
‘She’s waiting in your office.’
‘What?’ She’d got past Wendy? This Mikael had to see. ‘What’s her name?’
‘She won’t tell me,’ Wendy said, ‘and she won’t tell me what she’s here for either. She refuses to discuss it with anyone but you.’
‘Okay.’ Mikael nodded. ‘Don’t worry. I shall sort it out.’
Mikael walked into his office and completely ignored his uninvited guest, who was standing by the window, looking out through a chink in the heavy curtains and watching the world go by.
Yet as much as he ignored her somehow Mikael was reminded of the rare beauty of the first glimpse of a new moon. Perhaps it was the way the light caught her silver robe or because she was so slender, but as he opened the bar fridge it was that image that was on his mind.
‘Mr Romanov!’
Her voice demanded that he acknowledge her.
‘Oh, sorry…’ Mikael’s voice was wry as, his back to her, he added a slice of lime and ice to a glass and then poured sparkling water. ‘Weren’t you getting enough attention?’
‘I expect to be greeted.’
