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“What?” Charlie’s footsteps faltered for a second and her temper flared.
Maureen kept up her pace and looked straight ahead. “Charlotte, if all goes well, in a decade or so you’ll take silk, and that comes with certain responsibilities. Clients want stability and family values. Just get your house in order before they start to ask difficult questions, otherwise… It’s okay to be different. Just have a nice story to tell. No one wants it shoved in their face is all I’m saying. And you can’t bring a different plus one to all the client dinners, it’s not the done thing. Get it sorted now, and you’ll reap the rewards later.”
Charlie stopped walking. Had she crossed the park into the fucking fifties? “Maureen. It’s a pleasure to see you this morning. I appreciate you giving me the heads-up on the whole career situation. But I can assure you that I won’t be editing myself to get a seat at the top table.”
They’d made it to the entrance to the chambers where the clerks were gathering. Maureen took a step backwards, and the corners of her mouth quivered. Charlie wasn’t sure whether she was trying to suppress laughter or fury. In the end, she shook her head.
“I haven’t made my point, Charlotte. I give the boys this advice as well as the girls, so it’s not just you.” She laughed at something Charlie didn’t understand. “I hope you reflect on what I’ve said and if you’d like to talk further, you know where to find me. Just make an appointment with my assistant.” With that, she turned her perfect block heel and made her way into the building.
Charlie’s head was boiling over with questions. The last couple of weeks had taken its toll on her ability to compartmentalise the hard stuff from the easy stuff, and she was suffocating. Theresa’s anniversary, the run in with Elda on the way back from her parents’ house, and a pile of case notes to read was weighing heavy on her mind. Her rucksack slipped from her shoulder, and she stiffened with rage and humiliation.
This is fucking bullshit.She knew who she was, and she wasn’t going to have Maureen or any other high-up tell her she wasn’t the right fit. But her job was everything. It defined who she was. She couldn’t risk slipping off the career path just because she couldn’t fit in every now and again. She’d played the part of the career-minded barrister perfectly. Work was a performance most of the time, and she could surely keep it up for another few years. Then the likes of Maureen would be long gone, and she could run the show.
The interaction with Maureen put her in an awful mood for the rest of the day. By four o’clock, Charlie was beyond ready to have Joshua hold her calls. She decided to head across to the mill building. It had been more than a week since she’d run Elda off the country road, but she couldn’t shake it off. It was so unlike her not to be able to detach from the emotion of a situation, but she hadn’t been able to stop fretting about it. Coming here was sure to put it to rest. She just had to check in on her.
For years, it had been derelict. In the dusk, she saw the flicker of lamps behind each gridded window, inviting her in like candles in an old church. She walked towards the main door and scanned the list of rooms for a clue to Elda’s whereabouts.
Someone burst through the exit and held it open. She took a chance.
“Longshot, but do you know where Elda Brown’s room is?”
The trendy chap, dressed in double denim, narrowed his eyes. “Think it’s eight. Down the corridor, turn left. Keep going.”
As Charlie approached, she saw a door ajar and heard a scratching sound.What if she’s not even here? What am I doing?
Inside, Elda was scraping red paint from a scalpel. Her left arm was strapped up and getting in her way.
“Knock, knock,” Charlie said.
“Charlie!” Elda jerked and her face screwed up, obviously in pain. “Why are you here? How’d you find me?” She took a breath, and her expression settled. “Sorry. Hi, come in.”
Charlie studied her black boots and wondered why she’d come. It had seemed like the right thing to do, but now she was conscious of invading Elda’s space. “I don’t want to disturb you. I just wanted to see how you were—after last week.” Charlie shuffled her feet, trying to resist turning back the way she came. It was weird feeling like she wanted to get out of her own skin. No one had ever made her feel unsure of herself. “You said you worked in the mill, so I thought I’d come and see if I could find you.”
Charlie picked at a thread on her coat and tightened her scarf, wishing she could disappear beneath it.
“It’s fine,” Elda said, almost shouting. “I’m glad you came. I was totally out of it that night and didn’t get the chance to thank you for looking after me. And for staying with me. Thank you.” She brushed her hands down her overalls. “I was in a bit of a state.”
“No thanks required. I nearly ran you over.” Charlie forced herself to blink. She’d been struggling to make sense of the chaos in her mind for the last few days. She kept playing the accident back, seeing the shape in the road and bracing for impact. But more than that, she couldn’t stop thinking about Elda’s delicate cheekbones and kissable lips. “How about a coffee?” she asked. “As an apology. With me, at some point, not now. And also, I brought you this.” She handed Elda her phone. “It was in the footwell.” She should’ve led with that. Returning someone’s phone was a normal thing to do.
Elda checked the battery was dead and twisted her mouth in what looked like curiosity. “Thank you, I ordered a new one when I couldn’t find it. Off-grid for a few days has done me good.” She placed it in a drawer. “Yes, let’s get coffee. I’ll sort stuff here and get out of this.” Elda waved at her boiler suit.
Charlie tried to adjust to this spontaneity. She looked around for the first time and took in the full studio: three canvases standing tall in the middle of the room, surrounded by paints, brushes, pots of water, and empty mugs. She hadn’t been sure where this afternoon would take her, and now they were off out together. She had a pile of case files waiting in the office and that should take priority.
Typically, she avoided Elda’s type. Dishevelled and creative, with drama following her around like a strong perfume. But she had to admit she was intrigued. She could catch up on work. Her stomach rumbled, reminding Charlie she’d skipped lunch. “I could eat, too.”
They wandered to the coffee shop.Charlie stared at the cake display. Choosing food for someone else wasn’t really her thing. She wasn’t even a coffee and a chat kind of girl. Even pillow talk was short and sweet and ended with directions to the door.
Elda dropped two painkillers between her lips. Guilt nagged at Charlie.
“I couldn’t decide, so got us a selection. We can swap, or share,” she said as she reached their table.
“Everything is delicious. I come here all the time.”
“It’s not far from my office, but I’ve never even noticed it. I don’t get out from behind my desk once I’m there.”
“Where do you work?” Elda licked the coffee froth from her spoon.
Charlie had to look away. “I’m at the Elliott and Hall Chambers, on East Street. My office looks over to the mill building.”
