He reflected idly on these things as they drove through the leafy Gloucestershire countryside, until they reached Boringdon Hall. The driver slowed the car at the entrance gates, and spoke into an intercom. The gates swung open, and they proceeded up a long, tree-lined drive. The house, when it came into view, was imposing yet graceful, and far larger than Leo had expected. The car drew to a halt.
‘What do you think?’ asked Adriana, as they sat looking out.
‘Magnificent,’ said Leo. ‘Quite beautiful.’
They got out and were met by the estate agent. Leo strapped Oliver into his pushchair, relieved that he looked sleepy and not inclined to run around. This didn’t look like the kind of house where they would welcome a boisterous toddler storming through the rooms.
The experience of going round Boringdon Hall felt to Leo exactly like a paid tour of a stately home. The rooms were spacious and light, beautifully decorated and furnished, though in a style somewhat too ornate for Leo’s taste. He would arrange things differently – everywhere, that was, except for the library, which struck him as the most beautiful room in the house, filled with gentle light from the large windows overlooking the lawns and gardens. He could imagine the pleasure of spending hours in this room, of mounting the little curved wooden staircase to the gallery which ran around the upper portion of the room in search of some volume, of sitting at the table by the window, working. To work in such a room would be a luxury, in any season of the year. But what work? If his life became part of Adriana’s, what work would there be for him to do?
They went slowly through the house, Adriana questioning the agent closely on every detail. They viewed the coach house, the swimming pool, the tennis court and the kitchen garden. They passed down a lawned walk, through wrought-iron gates opening on to a poplar avenue flanked by paddocks, and admired the views over the countryside. They walked back through the gardens, and Adriana thanked the estate agent and asked him to leave
them for a little while. She sat down on a bench beneath one of the oak trees and gazed across the lawn to the house.
‘Come and sit with me,’ she said, patting the bench next to her.
Leo sat down. Oliver was asleep in his pushchair, thumb in mouth, head on one side. Adriana breathed in the air and smiled. ‘I like this place. I think it could be quite perfect. It is so English.’
‘Do you seriously think you want a place this large?’
‘Why not? It’s absolutely beautiful. It has atmosphere. The size is immaterial. Don’t you think you would like to live here?’ She regarded him with thoughtful brown eyes.
‘What I want is neither here nor there. This is your adventure.’
‘I like that. An adventure. I hadn’t thought of it that way.’ She reached out a hand and stroked his arm lightly. ‘I don’t want it just to be my adventure. You know what I said to you in Marbella. I want you in my life. I want to share things with you. This—’ she gestured towards the house and its tranquil grounds ‘—we could enjoy together.’
‘But in vague terms,’ Leo replied carefully, ‘it’s a very attractive idea.’ He gazed at the house. ‘But I have an existence, I have a job and a life that can’t simply be erased. You want to draw me into your world. But what would I be there? How would I fit in? As your lover, your accessory? I’m afraid I’m not available on those terms.’
She smiled. ‘You are such a lawyer. You need the fine detail. Very well.’ Adriana clasped her hands in her lap. ‘Mr Defereras is getting old. He has run the legal side of
Silakis shipping line for forty years now. He worked for my father before me. It has been an important and well rewarded job. He has earned a great deal of money. Now he wants to retire. I need someone to replace him, someone with skill and understanding. Someone who knows the world of shipping.’
‘So you’re offering me Mr Defereras’s job?’
‘Not quite. It would be much more than that, in time.’ She drew closer to him, and her hand, which had been resting on his arm, touched his face gently. ‘If we were as good together as I think we can be, we could run this business together. I need someone. It is very hard and very tiring, sometimes. And lonely.’
‘I can’t be your partner, Adriana. It’s your business, your family business.’
‘Leo, you could make of it whatever you want. I am asking you to be with me, work with me, share everything.’
‘My life at the Bar is all I’ve ever done, all I’ve ever wanted. I don’t know that I could leave it that easily. It’s my world.’
‘That funny, old-fashioned place, with its grey buildings and dreary lawyers? Leo, I could show you a better world than that, much more exciting.’ Her soft brown eyes looked into his. ‘You know, I am not the kind of woman who gives herself to men. I have never in my life offered myself to anyone, as I am offering myself to you now.’ Leo said nothing. She went on, ‘Would it be so hard to change your life? What ties do you have that would be so hard to break?’
‘There’s Oliver.’ He had never mentioned Camilla to her, and he wasn’t about to start now.
‘He lives with you some of the time. Nothing there would change. He could come here, have a home here, or somewhere like this. I’m not asking you to come to Greece with me. I can run the business from anywhere. I wouldn’t ask you to leave England.’
Leo contemplated her pretty, passionate face. She meant all of this. He didn’t flatter himself that he was so exceptional, compared to the kind of men she must have met. What had he done that she should offer herself to him in this way? Perhaps it was simply love after all – a word that hadn’t been mentioned so far.
He kissed her face lightly. ‘You are a truly extraordinary woman. But I have to be honest with you. This was never intended to be anything more than a brief affair. I always saw it as something that suited us both, for as long as the case lasted. I thought you did too. We’re the same kind of people, prepared to take pleasure as and when we find it. Why do you want to turn it into something more serious?’
‘I love you, Leo,’ she replied simply. ‘I am in love with you.’
Leo gazed at her face, its expression fragile, utterly vulnerable, quite different from her usual cool, adamantine composure. It would have been quite easy, in that moment, to say that he loved her too. In a way, he did. But he knew that if this were to have any chance of success, it was not the right thing to say. Not then, and not at any time in the future. A woman like Adriana, so used to getting what she
wanted, should not be so easily gratified. It was important that she should remain needy, anxious.
‘I’m very fond of you,’ he replied gently, ‘but I don’t love you. It’s only fair to tell you that.’
He watched her eyes, and found the response he wanted – a little flicker of fear and apprehension. ‘I know,’ she replied. ‘I don’t care. Maybe it’s why I love you. It doesn’t change anything I’ve said. I need you.’
Leo looked down at Oliver asleep in his pushchair. He thought for a long moment. ‘This isn’t easy for me. If I throw in my career at the Bar to come and work for Silakis Shipping, I can’t go back. Not easily.’ He turned his eyes to hers. ‘I need a few days to think about it’
She gave a soft, happy smile, knowing that he was close to being persuaded. ‘I can wait. I shall be in New York all of next week. You can tell me your answer when I get back.’
‘…and, as your Lordship is doubtless aware, in that case the European Court of Justice held
inter alia
that where two actions involve the same cause of action, and some but not all of the parties to the second action are the same as the parties to the action commenced earlier in another contracting state, the second court seized is required to decline jurisdiction only to the extent to which the parties to the proceedings before it are also parties to the action previously commenced …’
Anthony, suppressing a yawn of infinite boredom, glanced at Fred Fenton, his instructing solicitor, and wished that he could perfect the same technique of dozing with his eyes open. He could tell from Fred’s glazed expression that that was exactly what he was doing. No wonder. As jurisdiction disputes went, this one was pretty dire. As junior in the case, Anthony’s role was limited, and it was difficult, on a soporific
August Friday such as this, to keep one’s attention from wandering. He glanced at his watch. Nearly twelve-thirty. He would be seeing Rachel in half an hour. Two days since he had last seen her, and in that time the ghost of her, luminous and soft and hesitant, had moved constantly in his mind.
The weekend they had spent together had been entirely different from the last. Apart from the fact that Oliver had been with Leo, ensuring Anthony the sublime, concentrated pleasure of Rachel’s attention, it was as though they had both decided, silently and independently, to excise all guilt and anxiety from the situation. Charles, out of sight, had stayed out of their minds.
Anthony glanced up. Their learnt friend on the other side was still wittering on about anti-suit injunctions, and would probably do so until the lunch break. Anthony’s mind drifted over fragments of that perfect weekend. Most perfect of all, being in bed with Rachel.
‘This,’ he had said to her, ‘was something I’d decided two years ago would never happen.’
‘Because of me?’
‘Because of Leo.’
He had no idea why he’d raised the subject of Leo, but he had. ‘Don’t talk about him.’
‘You still love him, don’t you?’ Anthony had propped himself up on one elbow and looked into her eyes.
She shook her head. ‘I did. It’s not that any more. It’s like – it’s like having been wounded, really badly wounded. The scar may have healed, but it still hurts
sometimes.’ She sighed. ‘Maybe Leo is someone you never quite get over. But if I love anyone, it’s you.’
Anthony closed his eyes briefly at the memory of that, the way she had touched his face and looked into his eyes as she said it. Still, even then, he hadn’t been able to leave Leo out of it.
‘Does he know?’ he had asked.
‘About us? I don’t know. You know what he’s like. When he came to pick up Oliver, he seemed to have the idea something was going on. Why? Does it bother you?’
‘No. Why should it? This has nothing to do with him.’
And then he had kissed her, and the rest was … well, amazing. Anthony let out a sigh, and Fred glanced at him and rolled his eyes, mistaking the sigh for evidence of deep boredom. Anthony smiled faintly in return.
Of course, it hadn’t been true. It had everything to do with Leo. Quite why or how, Anthony couldn’t work out. But somehow it did. He glanced again at the barrister on the other side, trying to focus his thoughts on the case, but it was hard to tether one’s attention to such relentless verbosity.
‘… and, my Lord, I would submit that there is nothing in the Warsaw Convention to suggest that this rule may be modified under domestic law or otherwise, so as to enable a claim to be brought in some jurisdiction not otherwise permissible under article 28, on the ground that some other defendant is being sued by the same claimant in some other jurisdiction. However, the interpretation of article 28 where the manufacturer is
joined as a defendant in addition to the carrier may, as a matter of French law, be, different—’
Mrs Justice Miller interrupted him. ‘With respect, Mr Griffiths, may I suggest that that aspect of your already lengthy argument might usefully be held over until after lunch? We shall resume at two o’clock.’
The sense of relief as the court rose was almost palpable.
‘I was beginning to feel as though I was in a parallel universe,’ said Fred, as he and Anthony left the court.
‘Or jurisdiction.’
What are you doing for lunch? Fancy a quick sandwich across the road?’
‘Thanks,’ said Anthony, ‘but I’m meeting someone.’
‘Okay. See you later.’
A few minutes later Anthony arrived at the wine bar where he and Rachel had arranged to meet. She was already sitting in a booth next to the window, sipping a glass of wine. Anthony slipped in opposite her.
‘I wouldn’t normally,’ she said, raising her glass, ‘but it’s Friday. Would you like one?’
‘No, I won’t. It’s difficult enough staying awake in court as it is.’ He leant across and kissed her. ‘How are you?’
‘Good. I just settled a case this morning. On very favourable terms, too. Nothing like a satisfied client.’
He smiled, surveying her face. She looked so different these days – open and happy, without the drawn, defensive look of a few weeks ago. ‘Well done. You deserve to celebrate. Look, I’ll go and order some sandwiches. I haven’t got long.’
He came back after a few minutes with a plate of sandwiches, and sat down again. ‘So, will I see you this weekend?’
Her face clouded. ‘Charles is coming back tomorrow.’
‘I thought he wasn’t back till next week?’
Rachel shook her head. ‘He rang last night.’ She fell silent, gazing through the window at the street with apprehensive eyes.
Anthony felt as though he’d been kicked in the stomach. He’d spent the last few days thinking about how they’d be together this weekend. This, he supposed, was reality. When Charles was away, it was all pretend.
His words echoed his thoughts. ‘Back to real life.’
She shook, her head, her gaze still fixed absently on the street. ‘It’s not real at all. Not any more so than what’s happened between us. If anything, less so.’ She picked up her wine and sipped it.
‘In which case,’ said Anthony slowly, ‘you have to tell him.’
‘It’s going to be dreadful. I can just imagine what will happen. He’ll be hurt. He’ll be agonisingly unhappy. He won’t be angry. That’s not Charles’s style. He probably won’t even blame me. He’ll blame himself, say he hasn’t been fair to me, rationalize it, excuse it, say that he’ll jack the series in, that he won’t go back to the States, that Oliver and I are more important to him than the work …’ She sighed, put her head in her hands. ‘He’s such a good man, and I’ve done a horrible thing to him. And the worst of it is, I think he’ll forgive me.’
‘You have to make it clear it’s not a question of forgiveness, that it’s not just some casual affair.’
‘I don’t think I can bear to tell him.’
‘These things happen.’
She looked up at him. ‘No, they don’t, Anthony. We
made
it happen. I can’t evade responsibility. I let him down, I didn’t care enough. I didn’t have to let it happen. I had a choice.’
‘Possibly.’ He reached out a hand for hers. ‘But it
has
happened. I’m in love with you. I have been since way back when. And I think you feel the same way.’
‘You know I do.’
‘In which case …’ He shrugged.
‘It’s easy for you. All you have to do is stand back and wait for the dust to settle. I’ve got to face the awfulness of telling him, of hurting him.’
Anthony offered her the sandwiches, and took one himself. ‘Maybe it won’t be the way you think. Maybe he’s met some charming young researcher out in the States, maybe—’ The look in her eyes stopped him. ‘Sorry. But these are possibilities, you know. Just because you don’t want it to be the case doesn’t mean—’
‘I’m not saying that! It would solve a lot of problems if he had met someone. It’s just the way you—’ She stopped, exasperated. ‘God, I don’t want to argue.’
‘There’s nothing to argue about. You have to tell him. How does it go on, otherwise? We wait for him to go back to the States and then pick up where we left off? I can’t do that. Neither can you. If you think what you’ve
done to Charles is bad, then that would be infinitely worse.’
‘I know, I know.’ She looked down at her wine. ‘I think that’s why I needed this. To give myself a bit of courage. Face the fact that I have to do something. The thing is, it would be so much easier if there was no affection, if I had some reason to hate him. I don’t. I’m really, really fond of him. And his family. They’ve been so wonderful to Oliver. They’re such a part of his life … If this involved only Charles and me, it wouldn’t be so bad. But it’s much more complicated than that. It’s going to be like getting divorced from Leo all over again, only worse, because Oliver’s old enough to know what’s going on.’
Anthony sat in silence for some seconds. ‘You’re right. I suppose I have got the easy part. I’m not the one who has to make the choices.’
‘I’ve already made my choices.’ Rachel sighed. ‘Now it’s just a question of getting on with it, making sense of a horrible situation.’
‘Not all of it’s horrible.’ He put his hand beneath her chin and drew her face to his, and kissed her for a long moment. ‘There is a good side to it’
She smiled. ‘Yes, there is.’
‘What about tonight? Can I see you tonight? If he’s not coming back till tomorrow—’
‘I don’t think I can do that. I feel bad enough. It’s too close, just before he gets back—’
‘Don’t worry. I understand.’
She drew a deep breath and sat back. ‘God, it’s a bit late
for pathetic, moral subtleties, isn’t it? I really, really hate myself. This is not the person I wanted to be.’
‘Don’t beat yourself up about it. Have another sandwich.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘I have to get back to court.’
Rachel drained her glass and picked up her bag. ‘I should be going too.’
‘Will you call me?’
She nodded. ‘Of course. If you don’t mind, though, it won’t be over the weekend. I’ll leave it till Monday. I don’t know how the next two days are going to be.’
It happened that an official judicial function of some importance, one which required the presence of his Honour Mr Justice Sagewell,
inter alia,
was taking place in the City that day, and so the proceedings in the
Persephone
had been briefly suspended. Leo, who had spent the morning busying himself with other matters in chambers, popped out at lunchtime to pick up some cigars. Coming out of the newsagent’s, he glimpsed Anthony and Rachel through the window of the wine bar across the street. He paused for only a few seconds, but that was time enough to see how they spoke, kissed, then spoke again. There was no mistaking their mutual absorption. They looked like two people who were everything in the world to each other. For the moment, at any rate. Experience had taught Leo that nothing in this world lasted for ever.
He had already countenanced the possibility that something was going on between Rachel and Anthony, but
hadn’t anticipated that actually seeing them together would arouse such disturbing feelings within him. He walked rapidly back to chambers.
He went up to his room, opened his window, took off his jacket and draped it over the back of his chair, then sat down and lit one of the small cheroots which he had just purchased. He leant back, frowning. So, the smouldering affair had finally ignited. A couple of years ago, Anthony hadn’t even been getting past first base. He had Leo to thank for the fact that Rachel was now something more than a frigid Madonna of the Law Courts. Did Anthony allow himself to acknowledge that, or would that be simply too humiliating? At any rate, judging by the brief glimpse of their body language, the relationship between Anthony and Rachel had evidently reached a certain intensity. No doubt the agonising had begun. Poor old Charles. If there was one chap he really liked, had done ever since the first Lloyd’s Names case, it was Charles Beecham. Leo felt genuinely sorry for him.
The telephone rang, interrupting his thoughts, and he picked it up.
When he put it down again a few moments later, all thoughts of Anthony and Rachel had been entirely eclipsed. He put on his jacket, looked into the clerks’ room to tell Felicity he was going out for a couple of hours, then walked quickly up to Fleet Street. There he hailed a cab and asked the driver to take him to Charing Cross Hospital in Hammersmith.
Captain Kollias’s wife, who had spoken to Leo on the
phone, met him in the waiting room outside the intensive care unit. She was a slender Greek woman, pale and composed, but evidently deeply distressed.
‘Mr Davies? Thank you for coming. My husband has been asking to see you since he woke up. That was an hour ago. I have been calling you every few minutes …’ Her eyes filled, and she drew a handful of tissues from the pocket of her jacket.
‘Sit down,’ said Leo, guiding her to a chair. He sat down opposite her. ‘When did the accident happen?’
‘This morning. He had been to pick up the car from the garage, and on the way back there was a motorbike coming out of a side street …’ She pressed the tissues to her eyes.
‘How is he?’
‘I don’t know. Last night they said he was critical, and they operated on him, and today they say he is stable, but I know they are still worried … He has bad injuries to his chest and his head.’
‘Did he say why he wanted to see me?’
She shook her head. At that moment, the door opened and a doctor came in. Mrs Kollias rose to greet him.
‘Oh, doctor, this is Mr Davies.’
The doctor shook Leo’s hand. ‘Mr Kollias has been very insistent about speaking to you, Mr Davies. I’m glad Mrs Kollias managed to get hold of you. Normally, with someone in his condition, I wouldn’t recommend that he be disturbed, but I think it’s best you see him.’ He turned to Mrs Kollias. ‘I think, if you don’t mind, Mrs Kollias, I’ll ask you to wait here.’
She nodded, watching with fearful eyes as Leo and the doctor left the room. On the way down the corridor, the doctor asked, ‘Do you know of any special reason why Mr Kollias wants to speak to you so badly?’
‘I’m a lawyer, and Captain Kollias – Mr Kollias – has been giving evidence in a case I’m involved in. I can only imagine it has something to do with that.’