Chapter 24 #2
‘But she’s not from Liverpool. As you so obviously are.’
‘That obvious?’
‘Er, well, yes. To be honest, I love a Scouse accent.’ Was I flirting with the man?
He laughed. ‘I thought I’d toned it down a bit. No, I may be from Liverpool, but my constituency is down here in London. And you’ve not lost your Yorkshire accent?’
‘Oh, I think I’ve had some of it knocked off.’ I smiled, realised I was actually dimpling at him. ‘I’ve lived in the south almost twenty years. A standard English accent probably gets to us all down here after a while.’
An official-looking man on his left was beckoning Michael.
‘So, thanks again for helping Marianne. I don’t think she’d have been able to vindicate herself in court without your expertise.’
He smiled down at me, and I thought, Woah, this man is lovely.
Michael offered up a final, ‘Good to meet you, Anna,’ gave me a rather hot lingering look and moved off into the crowd.
I knew we’d immediately hit it off; there’d definitely been a spark between us, so I wasn’t surprised when, a couple of days later, he rang me at the office and asked me out for dinner.
Him being in government, I’d heard of him of course, had watched him when he’d been invited to put forward a particular view on breakfast TV, read a couple of articles he’d written for the national press and, although he sometimes came over as slightly arrogant, full of himself almost, he spoke exceptionally well, his strong Liverpool accent quite beguiling.
‘How did you get my number?’ I asked once I’d joined him at the reserved table at the River Café in Hammersmith, a short taxi ride away from my apartment in Fulham.
‘Pretty easy really, knowing who you are and that you were instructing solicitor for Marianne Graham. And, like your brother, you’re beginning to make a bit of a name for yourself too, Anna Piasecki.’
The way he said my name and held my eye made me feel both shy and lustful all at once and, somewhat confused, I hid my discomposure in the glass of water he poured for me.
‘How come an obvious socialist like yourself frequents a restaurant like this?’ I glanced round at the iconic, brightly lit open kitchen, a focal point which allowed its diners to watch the chefs at work.
The interior designer had gone for vibrant coloured walls and a rather eyewatering bright blue carpet.
‘Don’t know if I like the carpet,’ I went on, talking too much as usual.
‘Feel as though I’m on the high sea and, to be honest, I’m not the best swimmer.
Got my Learner’s Certificate for swimming a length and that’s about it. ’
Michael laughed. ‘But don’t you just love the industrial feel of it all? And how many restaurants have a woodburning stove in the middle of the floor?’
‘I do like it, I do, but you haven’t answered my question.’ I glanced out of the large floor-to-ceiling windows offering views of the River Thames.
‘Why do I come here when I profess to be a socialist?’ Michael smiled, obviously mulling it over.
‘Do you think, Anna, one’s aim to want disadvantaged members of our society to have an equal share of what this country has to offer rules out my asking a fascinating woman for dinner and sharing a bottle of champagne? ’
I burst out laughing at that. ‘Are you wanting to share the champagne with me, or the man settling himself in for the night down there?’ We both glanced out of the window on the fading light of an April evening.
‘With you, Anna, definitely with you.’ I took in the dark cropped hair, the blue eyes, the navy suit, the blue striped shirt and felt my heart shift in a way it hadn’t for almost the past twenty years.
Oh, there’d been lovers, one relationship that had lasted a year, but my only interest was my work, and I preferred to be alone than lonely with some man I couldn’t connect with.
And there was definitely a connection here.
‘You’re staring, Anna,’ Michael said gently and I had to shake my head and reach for a breadstick.
‘Sorry!’
‘Goodness, don’t be. I’d have you stare at me at any time.
’ He paused and took my hand, stroking the fingertips slowly.
‘You know, I actually sat at the back of court when you were instructing Marianne’s barristers.
Marianne had told me so much about you – I wanted to see you for myself – see you in action. ’
‘Well, defending lawyers like me don’t get much of a say in Crown Court. We just do all the legwork beforehand.’
‘I know that, but as I sat in the gallery, watching you with Marianne before she went in the dock to be grilled, I just knew I wanted to get to know you.’
‘That was over three years ago,’ I said. ‘You took your time.’ I downed half a glass of champagne to hide my embarrassment at what I’d just said.
Michael laughed. ‘I wasn’t in any position to… to…’
‘To hit on me?’
‘Are you always so direct?’ he asked.
‘’Fraid so,’ I said. ‘Northern trait. Or a family trait. Or probably both.’ I saw the faint white line on his ring finger. ‘You’re separated?’ I asked.
‘Divorced,’ he replied.
‘I’m sorry.’
‘Don’t be. It was a rough time going through it all, but we’re not openly hostile to each other any more.’
I drank more champagne than was probably wise and, at the end of the best evening I’d had for many years, I went back with Michael to his apartment in Putney.
And we’d been together ever since.