Chapter 21 Leila
Leila
“She’s jealous of you, Leila. I wouldn’t trust anything she says.”
I told Julian about Sienna cozying up to me at the law fair. I was interested to hear his take on it, although I knew it wouldn’t be positive.
“Why would she be jealous?” I ask him, leaning into the doorway to our dressing room at home. “You split up years ago and, no offense, but she left you.”
He stops what he’s doing. Julian likes to select what he’s wearing for court the night before and had been reaching up for a suit before pausing to turn around.
This was Julian’s house, originally. He lived here with Sienna but bought her out when they divorced.
I wasn’t sure about it, initially, moving into their old marital home.
I felt I’d be a diluted version of her. I did suggest to Julian we buy a more modern property when we married, but he almost vomited at the mention of a new-build and wouldn’t hear any further discussion about it.
“She obviously realized what a mistake she made,” he says, with deep satisfaction running through his voice. “I mean, look at who she ended up with. Bloody Keiran Fox. He’s hardly a catch, is he? Couldn’t hack it at the Bar, so went to teach instead.”
“There’s nothing wrong with teaching, Julian.”
“No, but he obviously didn’t have what it takes for this job. That’s the measure of the man.”
“I got the impression it was a lifestyle choice rather than him not being able to handle it.”
“Well, whatever it was, it’s a waste of everything he worked for.”
“It’s just very weird that she’s started being like this.”
“Look, simply stay away from her,” he snaps. “I don’t know why she’s intent on doing this now, but she’s very two-faced. She fools a lot of people, and trust me, I know what that’s like.”
Julian gets touchy whenever I mention Sienna. I know when to leave it.
—
A few days later, I’m walking back to chambers at lunchtime, clutching my sandwich and luminous green smoothie from Pret. I’m trying to be healthy at the moment.
“Leila!” Chester calls out from somewhere.
I turn to see him standing in the reception area.
Late autumn sun streams through the large sash windows and scatters a warm, golden glow everywhere.
Our building is old—I believe from the Georgian period—and this would have been the drawing room.
He stands beside an imposing fireplace; the blue, pink, and white patterned tiles pop against the black surround.
An oversized vase of lilies sits on the coffee table.
I fell in love with Innovation Chambers the moment I stepped foot in it.
Each set of chambers has its own personality in terms of ethos, building, barristers, and specialty.
Some sets are strict and straitlaced, others are nonstop party chambers.
Some are downright corrupt. This one felt right to me: legal excellence laced with strong, eccentric personalities, not afraid to be different.
Speaking of eccentric personalities, I smile and walk over to say hi to Chester. He glances around at the reception desk to see if anyone’s there.
“I wanted to apologize again for my behavior in the bar,” he says quietly, having avoided me around chambers since it happened. “Your reaction was entirely appropriate.”
The giddy, excitable look Chester had in his eyes that day is absent. He is now sober and has likely thought about the incident and reflected on it. He will be embarrassed, and rightly so. But I’m not going to punish him for it. People make mistakes.
“Chester, how long have we known each other?” I whisper. “It’s forgotten. Don’t worry about it.”
The smile he gives me is one of relief. He’s obviously got some stuff going on; the last thing he needs is me threatening to make life harder for him over this.
“How are you getting on with your ‘issue’ at home?”
He looks at me quizzically, frowning in a way that suggests he has no idea what I’m talking about.
“You mean the wife?” he asks, with a significant raise of the eyebrows. “All quiet. Nothing since. Probably my paranoia or a symptom of my old age.”
“Seriously?” I laugh. “You’re one of the sharpest minds I know, Chester, don’t give me that.”
“Back to normal,” he says quietly, shaking his head. “I think I must have just imagined it. Everything is tickety-boo.”
I don’t believe it, and he doesn’t either. But it’s easier for him to believe the lie because it’s more tolerable than confronting the reality and having his life blow up.
“Speak of the devil…” he says, and I turn to see Demi skipping up the steps outside chambers.
Within seconds she makes a majestic entrance into the reception area.
Her long, camel coat swishes around her, with a personality of its own.
She clutches a shiny, black Balenciaga handbag, which complements her tall, black boots.
Dark brown sunglasses sit on her head as her honey-colored hair cascades around her shoulders.
“Leila! Hi!”
“Hi, Demi, nice to see you,” I remark, catching a glimpse of the short, fitted dress she’s wearing underneath the coat. It’s no wonder Chester is willing to overlook her scurrilous activities. “Are you going out for lunch?”
“Yes,” Chester tells me. “We’re meeting Tom. We haven’t seen him for a while.”
I smile at Chester. I know seeing his son will mean a lot to him.
“Darling,” Chester says to Demi, laying a hand on the small of her back. “I’ve just remembered I need to have a quick word with Edward. Give me two minutes.”
He dashes off, leaving the two of us alone.
“Hope the case is going well,” she says politely, glancing at my lunch to see what I’ve bought.
“Yes, really well, thank you.”
Just as I’m wondering whether to excuse myself or take this opportunity to dig under the surface a bit, she beats me to it.
“I wanted to ask, Leila, what did your birthday card mean?”
Her tone has changed. She’s not playing the dutiful wife now. She’s asking with purpose. I’m thrown for a second.
“Sorry, what?”
“Your birthday card to Chester. It’s still on his desk. I saw it when I was in his study the other week.”
“Oh, just a silly joke!” I laugh, suddenly catching on to what she means. “We both love the classics, and we always put a quote in each other’s birthday cards every year. Nerdy, really.”
“Fas est ab hoste doceri. ‘It is right to be taught even by an enemy’? What’s that supposed to mean?”
Demi is never this direct, and I’ve never seen the non-giggly, non-daddy’s-girl version of her before. I’m also thrown by the Latin coming out of her mouth.
“Chester is always giving me savage, sage pieces of advice. You know, how to survive at the Bar and all that. I thought it was funny. Didn’t know you read Latin, Demi.”
“I went to boarding school. It was compulsory. I’m surprised you do. Chess extraordinaire and now Latin scholar. Be careful, Leila, people will start to question your working-class background.”
I say nothing. She wants a reaction, and she isn’t going to get one.
“I’m kidding!” She laughs.
I deliver the kind of smile you reserve for people you despise.
“I need to get back to work, Demi. Gorgeous to see you.”
—
I convince Julian to go for a quick walk with me after lunch just to get a bit of fresh air.
Being inside court and chambers all day can feel claustrophobic.
I’m also mindful of the fact we’re spending less time together at home, so it’s a good opportunity to reconnect.
We grab a couple of coffees from the deli around the corner.
“I was talking to Demi earlier,” I tell him, as we saunter along the nearby cobbled streets. “She came into chambers to meet Chester. She’s very odd.”
“In what way? What did she say?”
“There’s just something off about her. About their marriage. They were going to meet Chester’s son, Tom. Not the daughter—I assume she still wants nothing to do with him. Have you ever met her?”
“Elise? A few times.”
“What’s she like?”
“She used to come into chambers and wait for her dad. She was always in trouble at school. Mature. Older than her years.”
I frown. “Older than her years?”
He sighs.
“She’d come in when she was sixteen or so and be, how can I phrase this, sexually suggestive around male members of chambers.
It was…problematic. It seemed that she did it to get a reaction out of her father.
They didn’t get on. And when she found out about the affair it turned very ugly, very quickly. ”
“Who did he have an affair with?”
“No idea.” He shrugs. “It was all very hush-hush, but it spread like wildfire. I think it was someone important, though. Possibly a judge. Certainly someone already married with a powerful husband.”
“Why do you think that?”
“He went to enormous lengths to ensure nobody found out who she was. She had some kind of hold on him. He obviously had more to lose by revealing who she was than never speaking to his own daughter again. Some men do stupid things in the name of love. Or lust.”
“But why hasn’t Elise told anyone, if she didn’t get on with him?”
“I don’t know. That’s the part that doesn’t make sense. She just walked out of his life and disappeared.”
How horrible.
“But you know what Chester is like. He thinks with his dick,” Julian says with a little more vigor than the situation calls for. “Pretty women are his weakness. He’ll never learn. What do you expect if you cheat on your wife?”
His views on this topic are black and white, always have been. Infidelity is punishable by hell, which explains his feelings toward Sienna.
After a stroll through the winding streets surrounding Durham Cathedral, we head back to chambers for a steady afternoon of work. Sitting down at my desk, I see a notification on my Chats at the Bar account. It’s from her: @JustAnotherDumbBlonde.
I know it’s a threat from the preview. I sit down, promising myself I won’t panic, that they’re just words and that nothing bad has happened since the last one. They’re empty threats, that’s all. Designed to scare me.
But it’s more chilling than I imagined. It isn’t just about me. It’s about the trial.
Feeling the pressure yet? You are, aren’t you? Is he really ready to face questions about why a judge went to visit a criminal at 10:30 p.m. on a Friday night? I hope you’re as good as your client hopes you are, for both your sakes.
Nothing about this case has been reported in the press, yet this person knows what time Anton arrived at Jack’s flat.
How is that possible? Who the hell is sending these? Are they connected to the case? They can’t be. How much do they know?
If there’s someone out there who knows anything about what really happened the night Anton was killed, I need to be aware of them before this trial begins.