Irene nodded and put the report down. ‘Thanks. We can think about it.’ She paused, then looked seriously at Daniel.
‘You look tired, Danny,’ she said.
‘You look great,’ he batted back, looking her in the eye before draining his glass. She turned from the compliment.
‘Didn’t you seduce Carl’s pupil at this party last year?’ she asked. Daniel was surprised to feel his cheeks colour.
‘What is this, examination in chief?’
Irene laughed, arching her eyebrow and raising a finger. ‘Where were you on this date in September last year?’
Daniel raised both hands palm upwards towards her, letting the hair fall over his eyes.
‘I heard you two split up. She moved to another set last month.’
‘Yeah, I heard,’ he said, looking at the door.
There was a pause. The relief wallpaper and thick carpet warmed and expanded the pause. Daniel felt thirsty and hot.
‘What ’bout you?’ said Daniel.
‘Did I seduce a pupil?’
He laughed down his nose. ‘Weren’t you seeing that magistrate judge?’
‘God, that was ages ago, keep up.’ She walked over to him with the bottle and poured more champagne into his glass. He could smell her. She looked up into his eyes. ‘You really do look tired, y’know.’
Daniel ran a hand over his eyes and sighed. ‘I know, not been getting much sleep.’
‘Not this case, I hope. Bloody media.’
‘No, well that’s part of it, but … a personal thing.’ Daniel looked at her and pressed his lips together.
Irene arched her eyebrow. ‘A lady?’
‘No, well, yeah actually … My … mother died.’
‘Oh, God, Danny, I’m sorry.’
There was another swell of laughter outside the door. Daniel was surprised to feel a flush on his cheek again. He didn’t know why he had told Irene this truth. He looked away. My mother, my mother – only two months ago he had denied her. Minnie was gone for ever, but now he could admit she was his mother again.
Irene sat down behind her desk. She took her shoes off and rotated her feet, looking at Daniel with her glass held in two hands.
‘This case is going to be massive, you know, Danny.’
‘I know – “the Angel Killer”. Nice ring to it.’ He raised an eyebrow.
‘I don’t know if it’s the sting of last year, but something about this one scares me.’
‘I know what you mean.’
‘We can’t give in to it,’ she said, standing up suddenly and putting her shoes back on. ‘Bad as the publicity is now, it can only be worse at the trial.’
They both reached for the report at the same time, and Daniel’s hand accidentally brushed against her waist. ‘Sorry – that’s your copy. You can keep it.’
She nodded and put it into a drawer. Daniel turned the brass door handle, feeling it reassuringly cool against his palm. There was a swell of voices as he opened the door, and heat from the other side. It intruded into their quiet space.
‘Thanks for the drink,’ he said.
‘Thanks for the update.’
He stood back to let her pass, but she was waiting for him and they bumped into each other again. ‘Sorry,’ he said. Her hair smelled of coconut.
In the corridor, she broke away from him. ‘Excuse me, will you. Got to work the room now. Duty calls!’
Daniel watched her as he descended the stairs, shaking hands and laughing with her straight, white teeth.
He wandered around the party, nursing another glass of champagne. He knew almost everyone there, at least by sight. People shouted his name and slapped his shoulder as he passed; others waved from across the room. Daniel realised that he did not want to speak to any of them.
He wondered if it was the champagne, which he had drunk too quickly: his head felt claustrophobic. He stood on tiptoes to let two barristers past, then pushed through the crowd to one of the big rooms on the ground floor. The window was open and he could feel the cool night reaching in.
As he moved towards it, Daniel was drawn into a group of solicitors. He stood with one hand in his pocket smiling intermittently at the jokes while listening to the smokers by the window.
‘But you know Irene’s taken that Angel Killer case?’
‘Has she? Controversial for a new QC.’
‘It’ll be a big one though. Old Bailey. High profile.’
‘I know, but I wouldn’t touch it. I hear he’s pleading not guilty. Little sod’s gotta be guilty as sin, hasn’t he?’
‘Well-heeled family. Father’s a trader in Hong Kong. Do you know Giles by any chance, works for Cornells? He knows him. Apparently he’s furious – says it’s all a mistake.’
‘Well, we’ll see. Irene’ll sort them out.’
‘Safe pair of hands.’
‘Safe and … lovely to boot.’ The men laughed.
Daniel excused himself. He drained his glass and left it on a half-moon mahogany table beside a porcelain vase. He must have lent too heavily on the table, because the blue and white vase rocked dangerously for a second before he steadied it.
He buttoned up his jacket and looked around for Veronica, but couldn’t place her so decided to leave. He felt irritated. Perhaps Irene was right and he was just tired. He moved towards the door, feeling a trickle of sweat course his spine.
Out on the street, the night and cool breeze were a relief. He opened another button on his shirt and walked slowly towards the Tube. The momentary chill was no longer refreshing and the air seemed as thick and oppressive as the crowd had been earlier.
He felt lonely, he decided, walking, hands in pockets. It was not a feeling that was strange to him, and yet tonight he chose to taste it – to take it into his mouth and linger over its flavour. It was tart and surprising, like the rhubarb from Minnie’s garden.
He was glad he had spoken to Irene. He remembered her turning from side to side in her chair, and then teasing him about the pupil.
He was never long between women. It was after the thrill had passed and the intimacy became real that he found it difficult. He didn’t like talking about his past and he didn’t trust promises. He had never told a girlfriend that he loved her, although he had loved. So many had said that they loved him, but he had never really felt it, never been able to believe them. He thought about Irene with her strong, straight shoulders. They had fought together before, and lost, and now they shared a truthfulness, an innocence. Yet despite their friendship, there was a barrier of professionalism between them which he could never imagine breaching.
Entering the Tube, he passed the turnstiles and stood on the right-hand side of the escalator, passively descending into the bowels of the city. He thought about the coming trial and the press stories which would only worsen. Sebastian – unnamed and faceless – was intrinsically evil, according to the papers. Not only was the boy deemed guilty but intrinsically evil. The press did not presume innocence.
Sebastian’s actual innocence concerned Daniel less than the boy’s survival. He fully expected that the boy he and Irene had defended last year would be dead before he was twenty. He did not want Sebastian to have the same fate.
As he felt the warmth of the Tube wrap around him, Daniel wondered about the line that separated adult from child. He knew the legal line: criminal responsibility from the age of ten. Daniel wondered where the real line was. He again thought about himself at Sebastian’s age, and how close he had come to being in the boy’s position.