‘I spent it in the South of France.’
‘Oh? Whereabouts?’
‘Antibes, the old quarter. I bought a boat from Jamie Urquhart in the autumn, and realised I need a place to stay if I was going to be serious about sailing her, so I’ve rented an apartment down there.’
‘Antibes – bit of a glitzy place, isn’t it?’
‘It can be. But I don’t think I quite make the glitzy category. The apartment’s tiny, and my yacht looks laughable compared to the enormous things on the international quay—’ Leo broke off at the sound of raised voices on the other side of the room, and he and Jeremy turned to see Felicity shouting angrily at young Liam, who was looking aggrieved and upset, while Henry seemed to be doing his best to calm things down. Suddenly Felicity burst into tears and fled from the room.
Jeremy stared in astonishment. ‘What on earth—?’
Leo crossed the room to find out what was going on.
‘Angela Butler and Chris Tebbins from Hill Dickinson have turned up for a ten o’clock conference with Michael,’ explained Henry. ‘They’re waiting in reception. But someone mistakenly put in Michael’s diary that he was meant to be going to their offices. So they’re here, and he’s there.’
‘And Felicity’s saying it’s my fault, when it’s not,’ put in Liam.
‘Fuss about nothing,’ muttered Jeremy, and departed with his mail.
Leo sighed. ‘Well, it’s hardly the biggest deal in the world. Liam, call Michael on his mobile and turn him around. Then get reception to apologise to the solicitors, tell them that Michael will be with them in ten minutes, and give them coffee.’
When Liam had gone, Leo turned to Henry. ‘Is there more going on here that I should know about? Even if Felicity is responsible for the diary cock-up, it’s hardly important enough to make her storm off in tears.’
‘I don’t know what’s up with her lately, Mr D. Liam absolutely wasn’t to blame, and she knows it. Last week she forgot to tell Roger Fry that a hearing date had been brought forward, and we had the solicitor ringing up from court in a state demanding to know why Roger wasn’t there. Felicity tried to make out that was Liam’s fault, too. We all make mistakes, but her putting the blame on young Liam – well, it isn’t on. He feels like she’s got it in for him, and it’s shaking his confidence. He’s shaping up very nicely, and I don’t want to lose him.’ Henry shook his head. ‘But I’m worried for Felicity, too. She’s not been herself lately. Not since that bloke of hers came out of prison. When I try to talk to her about it, she just clams up.’
Leo nodded. ‘I think I’d better have a talk with her.’
Felicity had taken herself off to a sandwich bar in Fleet Street, and was sitting miserably in a corner with a cup of tea, hating herself. She knew that the cock-up with the solicitors from Hill Dicks was down to her. She shouldn’t have blamed Liam. The fact was, she couldn’t get her head straight these days. She’d let Vince walk in and take over her life. Every day was the same. Waking up hungover and depressed, despite the good resolutions of the day before. Feeling better by lunchtime, telling herself for the hundredth time that things were going to change. Making a series of resolutions – one, Vince would have to start taking responsibility for keeping the flat clean; two, Vince would have to make a bigger effort to find a job; three, Vince would do more shopping and cooking. Then getting home in the evening and being defeated by either the pigsty state of the place, or Vince’s already half-sozzled cheerfulness, or by her own weariness, and forming resolution four – tell Vince to get out. Then postponing that difficult moment by knocking back a large vodka and tonic.
After which the evening would just slide away. Supper would be whatever was in the fridge, or a takeaway from Pizza Hut or McDonalds, with another stiff drink to take the edge off the fact that she was failing herself yet again, and then another, maybe a bit of whatever Vince had scored down the pub. Then bed, and sex she couldn’t even remember in the morning.
Too much dope, too much booze, too little self-control and rapidly dwindling self-respect.
Felicity glanced up and saw Leo at the counter, buying a coffee. He came across and slid into the chair opposite her.
‘I thought I might find you here.’
Felicity said nothing.
Leo sipped his coffee. ‘Want to tell me what’s up?’
She turned her gaze to the window, and the street beyond. Leo let a silence elapse, then he went on, ‘Come on, we’re old friends. Think of all the times I’ve told you things I wouldn’t tell anyone else in chambers. Don’t shut me out.’