“Yes.”
“Can I choose from your collection of seven thousand and sixty-three ties?”
“Have they been multiplying?”
Fen went into Ripley’s bedroom and picked out a thin grey one. “I can’t tie it. I’ve never worn one before.”
“My father taught me,” Ripley said, then pressed his lips together.
“Hey, you can talk about your father. Because I don’t talk about mine doesn’t mean I don’t want to hear about yours.”
Ripley turned up Fen’s collar, put the tie around his neck and stared into his eyes. “Bring the wide end around and behind the narrow end. Wide end up and through the hole between your collar and tie.”
Fen licked his lips and Ripley faltered.
“Don’t distract me. Bring the wide end around the front, over the narrow end from right to left.”
Fen licked his upper lip as slowly as he could.
Ripley groaned. “Bring the wide end up back through the loop again. Squeeze the knot gently, pull down on the narrow end and slide the knot up. Got it?”
“No. That’s your job now. Fastening my ties.” Fen looked in the mirror, though at Ripley, not the tie. Ripley was…smouldering.
“You know what I want to do now?” Ripley whispered.
Fen shook his head.
“Tie you up with several of my ties and do bad things to you.”
Fen shivered. “How bad?”
Ripley shook himself as if he’d suddenly realised what he’d said. “We don’t have time. I want you to buy yourself some ties and shirts. And a warm coat.”
Fen started to say he couldn’t afford to, but he could. Ripley had put money in his account, but he had enough of his own. “Okay.”
Ripley held Fen by the shoulders and let his gaze slowly drop over him. “You look…perfect.”
“I wish I had a suit jacket.”
Ripley took off his and threw it on the bed. “I won’t wear mine. Feel better?”
Fen nodded. “Should I take my crutch?”
“We’ll probably spend a lot of time standing.”
“I’ll take it then.”
Once they were on their way to the home of Matthew Armstrong, Head of Old Square Chambers, and his wife Cressida who apparently was a doctor, Fen grew increasingly nervous.
“What does a Head of Chambers do? Not clean rooms I assume.”
“We elect them to be in charge. They’re usually a KC—King’s Counsel, part of His Majesty’s Counsel learned in the law. Matthew is. We’d say hetook silkbecause KCs are entitled to wear black silk gowns in court instead of standard court dress.”
“They don’t run things at work?”
“Yes, but they’re not office managers. Billy Edwards is our senior clerk and there are other clerks under him. The clerks are the ones who make sure everything runs smoothly.”
“Why aren’t you a KC?”
