AllFreeNovel
Share Us
‘Please don’t tell him that you’re coming. It will ruin it. Please, Cici. Please? Pinkie promise? I need you there. With me.’
* * *
As Célia made her way up the stairs of the court building she looked around furtively, hoping that she wouldn’t run into anyone. The feeling was ridiculous, considering she was about to return to the courtroom itself where everyone would see her.
She hadn’t had the strength to refuse Annabelle. If it had been for anyone else, she would have found it somewhere.
‘I need you there. With me.’
It had been too much. She defied anyone to turn down the pleas of a ten-year-old girl. She pushed through the heavy swinging circular door and followed the familiar hallway towards the chamber where Annabelle’s future was to be decided. Where Loukis’s future would be decided too. A future that she had, albeit accidentally, put at risk.
She had already decided that if he asked her to leave, she’d go. She’d go and never come back. But Annabelle’s call had lifted a lid on Célia’s hopes and all the hurt and fear that came with them. She needed to know what was going to happen today.
She looked up to find Annabelle standing outside the chamber, half hanging on the large wooden door, her other arm frantically beckoning her forward as if Célia was about to miss something.
Her reluctant steps picking up speed at Annabelle’s urgency, she barely had time to say hello before the little girl had grabbed her hand and led her into the courtroom. She looked up fearfully at the table where Loukis and his lawyers sat. Only the suited men she recognised from the previous court attendance turned round. Far from the way they had looked at her before—as if she were a bomb that had detonated their case—they nodded, faces grim with protocol and severity, but without censure. The judge, mid-sentence, barely acknowledged the interruption, while Meredith and her lawyers seemed gleefully outraged. Byron, on the other hand, looked strangely miserable and deeply unhappy. Reluctantly her gaze was drawn to the broad outline of Loukis’s shoulders, stiff and immovable as if he were refusing even to register her attendance. He must have known, she realised, otherwise he would have turned. He would have wanted to know who had entered the court.
‘I’ve already told them,’ Annabelle said in a not-so-quiet whisper the way only a child could get away with. ‘I’ve done my bit.’
‘Your bit?’ Célia asked, in a much more quiet tone. ‘I thought you wanted me here for that? Am I late? You said ten-thirty?’ Célia’s voice gained a trace of panic as she realised that she had somehow let Annabelle down again.
‘No. You’re just in time.’
‘Your Honour?’
Loukis’s voice, rough and deep, as if he too had had many a sleepless night.
‘I understand that it is time for my final statement, and, although it is an unusual one, I have a request.’
When the judge gestured for him to continue he said, ‘I would like to call Célia d’Argent back to the stand to clarify some aspects of her statement.’
The whispers started between the lawyers, Meredith clearly unhappy with the new development, and Célia absolutely terrified. What on earth was Loukis doing? Was he planning to engineer a way to place all the blame at her feet? Was that the only way he could hope to win guardianship? If so, she could not blame him and would willingly do whatever it took to help.
Annabelle was smiling at her, pushing her forward and letting go of her hand. It was that loss that Célia felt most keenly. Unable to meet anyone’s gaze, she kept her eyes on the floor as she approached the chair beside the judge. She feared that the moment she locked eyes with Loukis she might cry and that wouldn’t help anyone. But when she looked up, rather than seeing hatred or vengeance in his eyes, she saw...something she couldn’t hope to put a name to.
‘Célia, thank you for coming today.’
She tried to keep the frown from her face, as it sounded as if he had known that she would be here. A quick glance at Annabelle’s beaming face seemed to suggest that her plan was going winningly. A plan that was—contrary to her assurance—not some great surprise to Loukis.
‘Five years ago, when you were working on the technical specifications for a drone tracking system, what were
your hopes?’
‘I’m not sure what you—’
‘What was the intended use?’
Célia could give him this. She could see that he was trying to resolve the implications made the last time she was here. Felt somehow soothed by the fact that he was giving her the chance to explain. Even if it was too late.
‘To help improve the tracking and data management of agricultural drones in drought-affected areas.’
‘Areas such as...’
‘Parts of Africa, Australia, areas in Pakistan...there are many places in the world that are drought-affected and that number is only increasing with global warming.’
‘And you had no intention of that technology being used by the defence industry.’
‘No. It was coursework for my degree but I had been using some of the equipment and time at my internship at Paquet.’
