Errors of Judgment(16)

Slowing at a red light, Rachel glanced down at the photo. It was a close-up of Leo kissing Oliver’s soft baby cheek. It had been taken when Oliver was just eight weeks old, in the garden of the house where she and Leo had lived briefly, back in the deluded days when she’d imagined their marriage meant something. How quickly she’d learnt. No one person could ever be enough for Leo. There always had to be some third person, an illicit, faceless lover, male or female. Her glance lingered on the picture. Even now, the sight of Leo made her heart contract. She could have done without being reminded of how in love she’d once been. She was startled from her thoughts by a car horn telling her the lights had changed, and pulled away quickly.

‘So, what are you going to be doing with these pictures?’ she asked Oliver.

‘We have to write a story about ourselves, and then we cut it out and stick it onto … onto … something, and then we stick our pictures aaaall around the story,’ Oliver made a big circle with his hand, ‘and Mrs Latham puts them on the wall.’

‘That sounds nice. Can I come and see?’

‘If you like,’ replied Oliver casually. ‘I’m going to put the picture of me and Daddy right at the top.’

The next setback came when Lucy, Oliver’s childminder, told Rachel that although she’d agreed to keep Oliver till seven, because Rachel was speaking at a seminar, she was no longer able to. ‘The hospital’s brought my mother’s operation forward. She’s going in this afternoon and I need to visit her this evening.’

‘Don’t worry, I’ll sort something out,’ said Rachel, without the least clue what she was going to do.

Rachel kissed Oliver goodbye and drove to the station car park, deciding on the way that her only option was to call Leo and ask if he could get away early. She sent him a quick text, hoping he didn’t have a con or a hearing arranged for the afternoon, and hurried to the platform to see her train pulling out. She would have to wait twenty minutes for the next one.

Once on the train, she tried to concentrate on reading documents in a new case in which she’d been instructed, but memories revived by Oliver’s baby pictures kept crowding in and distracting her. God, how she wished she could simply erase Leo from her life and mind. But nothing was that simple. She closed her laptop and stared out of the train window. A few men had come close to displacing Leo in her heart, but only ever for a short time. She wished she could have made it work with Charles – he had been the kindest, sweetest man. The trouble was, for all his infidelity and incredible selfishness, Leo was a hard act to follow. Or was it those negative qualities which made him so attractive? She’d given up trying to work it out. The fact was, she needed someone to eclipse Leo. She needed to be in love. Easier said than done. She knew she was more than averagely attractive, and still young at thirty-three – but where were all the eligible men? The City of London should be teeming with them, but all the ones she came into contact with were either middle-aged and married with families, or young, conceited and gormless, or nudging sixty and lecherous. Her work as a solicitor meant she saw the same old faces every day, and most of her non-working hours were spent with Oliver. Where were the opportunities? Something had to change. It was ridiculous still to be brooding over one’s ex after five years.

It was after 9.45 when Rachel reached the offices of Nichols & Co in Bishopsgate. Her colleague Fred Fenton accosted her as she emerged from the lift.

‘Bad news, I’m afraid,’ Fred told her, as he walked with Rachel to her office. ‘Ann Halliday has had to pull out of the casino case. A six-week hearing she had coming up in December has been moved forward. So she’s having to bow out.’

Rachel slung her coat on a hook, and sat down with a sigh. ‘That’s all we need. I’d better see who else is free. Oh, and Fred, can we have a word at some point today with Andrew about that Drucker arbitration?’

‘Sure. Catch you later.’

It was clearly going to be one of those days, thought Rachel. Not yet ten o’clock, plenty of time for more things to go wrong. Her mobile began to buzz in her bag. She fished it out, and saw the caller was Leo.

‘Hi – did you get my text?’

‘Yes. Not a problem. I’ll pick Oliver up.’

‘Thanks. I’ve got this wretched seminar after work, and I probably won’t get back till after seven.’

‘I’ll have him for the night if you like. I was going to work from home tomorrow morning, so I can take him into school.’

‘Really? He’d love that. Are you sure you don’t mind?’