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Calvin looked at the sketch, amazed at how much detail Deshad had managed to capture. The image was instantly recognisable, a faithful recreation of the view from the couple’s bedroom window. But as beautiful as it was, it also made him feel sad – as if the artist was yearning for something he couldn’t have. A life outside of the care home, probably. Priya wasn’t the only one trapped by her poor health.
He became aware of Kate looking over his shoulder. She smelt faintly of candle wax and warm pastry. ‘I’m going to have itframed and put up in my office,’ she said, heading over to the window. ‘Wherever that might be.’
Her watched her move, missing her close proximity. ‘Any luck with the job hunting?’
She kicked off her Ugg boots and climbed onto the window seat. ‘I’ve been offered an interview next week at a firm in Richmond, so I guess that’s something. Big firm, good salary, decent benefits. I’d be crazy not to go for it.’
‘You don’t sound enthusiastic.’
She stretched up on tiptoe and pulled the curtains, and the movement directed his gaze down to her calf muscles, no longer hidden under thick leggings, but shapely in her festive tights. ‘Beggars can’t be choosers, right?’ She climbed off the window seat and rubbed her arms. ‘It’s cold in here.’
He went over to the fireplace. ‘Is it the job you have doubts about, or job-hunting in general?’
She joined him by the fireplace and knelt next to him, watching as he loaded the grate with logs. ‘I think it’s the idea of working for someone else that’s unsettling me. I’ve enjoyed being my own boss these last couple of months. I know that, technically, I was working for you, but it was nice to manage the case myself and not have to provide updates to a board of directors.’ She handed him the fire tongs. ‘Do you need these?’
‘I will do,’ he said, adding kindling to the log pile.
‘And then there’s the whole mental health issue.’
He stopped loading the fire and looked at her. ‘I thought you were feeling better? Your panic attacks seem to have stopped. Or have you just been hiding them from me?’
‘No, they’ve stopped,’ she said, unwrapping a box of firelighters. ‘Or they appear to have. I’m definitely feeling a lot better, and knowing I’ll be able to pay off my debts soon is a huge relief.’
‘Your ex-husband’s debts, you mean.’ His fingers brushed hers as she handed him the firelighters. ‘You’re not to blame, remember?’
‘You’re right. Let me rephrase… my pathetic excuse of an ex-husband’s debts.’
He smiled. ‘Better.’
Using his shoulder to lean on, she got up and went over to the desk. ‘I’m not foolish enough to believe I’m completely cured, or that certain situations won’t act as a trigger, but I’m more worried about coping with the general stress of it all. Long hours, targets, heavy caseloads.’ She returned with the lighter and handed it to him. ‘Am I up to it?’
‘Only you can answer that. But for what it’s worth, you’re the most resilient person I know. You never cease to amaze me. Not every woman would attempt sledging, or venture into the night on horseback to rescue someone. And it’s not like this has been an easy case, but you’ve handled it well.’
‘You mean, apart from yelling at ghosts, accusing the stepladders of trying to topple me off and conversing with portraits of your dead ancestors?’
He grinned, remembering the incident well. ‘Apart from that.’
‘I’m a walking advert for the deranged, I know.’ She held her hands in front of the fire as the flames took hold. ‘But you’re right, this has been the most challenging case I’ve ever worked on, and yet it’s been the most rewarding. Maybe it’s the location. Or the building… It might even be the people,’ she said, shooting him a glance. ‘But I’ve loved working here. It’s given me a glimpse of the life I want moving forwards. One day I want to be my own boss and take charge of my own destiny.’
He turned to her. ‘Self-employed, you mean?’
She nodded. ‘I got the idea the other day when I was Christmas shopping. There’s a law clinic in Ashford that hires out offices to self-employed solicitors. I had no idea it was evena thing, but now I know it exists, I can’t stop thinking about it.’ Her loose hair trailed across the side of her face and he wanted to tuck it behind her ear. ‘It’s wishful thinking, I know.’
‘Why is it?’
‘I have no home, remember? And no savings. Building a business from scratch takes time. Clients aren’t going to come flooding in the moment I announce I’m going solo. I’ll need to grow my reputation and client base over time. It requires more planning.’ She stared into the fire, her expression thoughtful. ‘Maybe one day I’ll achieve my dream. In the meantime, I need to find myself a decently paid job and just hope my fragile nerves can cope with the anxiety.’ She let out a sigh. ‘What other option do I have?’
He prodded the fire with the tongs. ‘Does the job have to be in London? You said you liked living here in Kent.’
‘I do, but most of the jobs being advertised are in the big cities. I’m trying to be flexible and not discount anywhere because of location.’
He hung the tongs on their stand. ‘Won’t you be lonely, living somewhere new by yourself?’
She shrugged. ‘Probably. Such is life. Hopefully, it won’t be forever.’
He hated the idea of her being unhappy, or stressed, in a new job. She deserved so much more than life had thrown at her. He wished he could make it better, but he couldn’t sort out his own job situation, let alone resolve someone else’s.
He got up and went over to the desk to return the lighter, noticing a pile of small envelopes lying on top. ‘I hate to break it to you, but you’ve missed the last post.’
