Kitabı oku: «A Year of Chasing Love», sayfa 2

Chapter 2

‘I’m extremely saddened to hear your news, Olivia. Nathan is not only an intelligent and competent corporate lawyer but a decent, considerate man. Jean and I were delighted when we heard he was being promoted to Lead Counsel at Delmatrix Pharmaceuticals at their Singapore office. You youngsters today have so many opportunities.’

Olivia squirmed a little under the steely pewter gaze of Henry Edwards, the senior partner of Edwards & Co, feeling dwarfed by the gravity of the situation she found herself in, and the wing-backed leather chair facing his gargantuan desk that wouldn’t have looked out of place in a Gentleman’s Club. However, after being his business partner for almost ten years, she knew whatever pearls of wisdom he was about to dispense, they would be judiciously selected and carefully delivered.

‘Olivia, it’s time I spoke frankly with you. Jean and I are worried about your health. It’s apparent to even the most casual of onlookers that you’re not sleeping well. And when did you last enjoy a decent meal – and I do not mean those psychedelic cocktails that you, Hollie and Matteo devour with such gusto? You need to take a break from the legal grindstone, especially after this life-changing event.’

‘Henry, I—’

‘No, please, just listen.’

Henry ran his arthritic fingers through his thick, ash-coloured hair, for the first time displaying a hint of reticence, clearly somewhat uncomfortable with treading the line between showing concern for his younger partner’s obsessive work patterns and invading her privacy.

‘I know you’re not going to like me saying this, but I miss the spirited, rosy-cheeked woman of twenty-nine I met ten years ago; eager, ambitious, brimming with energy and enthusiasm for the law. It hurts me to see how much that young lawyer has transformed into the frazzled, exhausted, stressed-out person who sits before me now and I truly regret not noticing sooner.’

‘Henry, I’m not—’

‘Please, Olivia, hear me out. For the first time, Jean and I have made a few New Year’s resolutions and if all goes according to plan, this time next year we’ll be boarding a luxury liner for a round-the-world cruise. Life is short, and every day becomes more precious as the age of seventy is waiting in the wings to ambush us. Jean deserves the indulgence of her long-held dream, and to that end I’ve reserved a Princess Grill Stateroom on the Queen Elizabeth.’

Olivia smiled. She was delighted that Jean had got her own way at last. She knew the division of labour in the Edwards marriage was considered old-fashioned; Jean, giving up her career as a midwife to devote her gentle-but-firm skills to steering their two beloved daughters through life’s challenges – both of whom had chosen to follow their mother’s footsteps into medicine – whilst Henry performed the role of breadwinner and doting father. She was about to congratulate him on his decision, but Henry had already launched into the next part of his submission.

‘I struggled to recall the precise nature of the clause in our partnership agreement pertaining to the taking of sabbaticals, so I took the liberty of checking. After ten years of service, all Edwards & Co partners, including you, Olivia my dear, qualify for a ten-month sabbatical at half their monthly drawings.’

‘I qualify? I thought it was you and Jean who were planning to take the world by storm?’

The switch in focus caused a twist of anxiety to whip through Olivia’s veins and she dug her fingernails into her palms to prevent herself from reaching up to fiddle with an escaped tendril of hair to alleviate the unease that had settled in her gut. What was going on? She didn’t have to wait long to find out.

‘Take a break, Olivia. Spend some time away from the crazy, soul-destroying world of divorce and relationship breakdown, of clients squabbling over meaningless possessions, of financial skulduggery and underhand espionage. Do you know, I even heard the other day that a lawyer had plundered the depths of decency by removing the dustbin from a spouse’s back garden? I mean, what is the legal profession coming to? How you and Katrina remain sane is a constant worry to Lewis, James and I.’

Henry expelled a sigh filled with incredulity, and not a little relief, that his chosen legal specialism was commercial property litigation and tax management and not the cut-and-thrust of verbal jousting prevalent in the field of matrimonial litigation. However, his words had sent Olivia’s thoughts reeling and it took her a few seconds to catch up, her throat dry when she spoke.

‘Henry, I really can’t take time off at the moment …’

‘I’m not saying you won’t be missed, or that we don’t appreciate how valuable your contribution is to our practice. You listen to your clients, Olivia, really listen. You empathise with their circumstances, and somehow you manage to instil in them the belief that their case is your only priority. Indeed, since you joined us, the Family Law department has flourished beyond anything we could have hoped to achieve. Clients, particularly women, have flocked to your office, but the fact that divorce has become so increasingly popular dismays me. Why don’t couples stay together nowadays? No, you don’t have to answer that!’

Henry settled back into his captain’s chair, steepled his fingers and tapped them on his lower lip, eyeing Olivia carefully.

‘But I can also see that the pressure of an ever-expanding caseload has sapped your energy and dulled that initial sparkle. And now, it seems, it has destroyed your marriage. Is it contagious, this incessant search for the elusive prize of contentment?’

‘I love what I do, Henry …’

‘Only too obvious, Olivia my dear, as I understand you already struggle to delegate even the most straightforward of cases to Miles, even though he is a very competent practitioner.’

Olivia clenched her jaw in a futile attempt to prevent Henry from reading the doubt she knew was written boldly across her expression. She had never been first in line when they were handing out acting accolades – learning how to hide her emotions was still a work-in-progress, and it was one of the few essential skills required to be a first-rate lawyer that she had trouble mastering.

‘Oh, I know that you and Miles have conflicting views on how you conduct your cases, but I also know that he is eager to prove himself, to carve out his own niche in the department – the law had always possessed a vociferous appetite for the naïve but ambitious young lawyer seeking to make his mark – and I’m not entirely unsympathetic to his desire to change the firm’s approach to our matrimonial cases.’

Like many lawyers, Olivia relished sharpening her advocacy and negotiation skills against her legal adversaries, but never to the detriment of her clients’ interests. It had always been her aim to assist her clients in a more holistic way, by offering accurate legal advice coupled with a dose of therapy, a cordial attitude to negotiations and a conciliatory approach. Of course, she was going to be better briefed than most on the up-to-date case law in her field because her long-time friend Rachel Denton, who had recently gained a Professorship in Family Law at UCL, made sure of that.

‘I can’t take a sabbatical, Henry, if that’s what you are suggesting. My clients rely on me to be here for them and I can’t let them down.’

‘They can easily transfer their matters to Miles, and I dare say that Lewis will do his bit.’

Olivia’s mind immediately flicked to her fellow partner Lewis Jackson’s office, where the windowsill was piled high with carelessly discarded bottles of single malt whisky – gifts from grateful clients as tokens of appreciation for the personal injury compensation he had won on their behalf. Even James Carter, who handled their criminal defence work, had been known to receive a bottle or two of Cognac, although its provenance probably didn’t bear close scrutiny. On the other hand, Olivia’s office sported a plethora of flower-bedecked cards from clients whose shattered lives she had been a reluctant but necessary part of, and whom could not bring themselves to thank her for her involvement in such an interlude of pain.

‘Katrina will be a more than competent adviser, too. And what an opportune time to take a break having passed that dubious milestone that I saw reported in December’s issue of the Law Society Gazette.’

Olivia gulped as her predicament rushed at her like a runaway express train and an involuntary shudder ran the length of her spine as she realised her own marriage would now be joining that running total of five hundred marriage dissolutions. And Henry was wrong – if ever there was a time to take a break from the treadmill of corporate life, this was most certainly not it! She needed the distraction.

‘But, Henry, I really can’t contemplate …’

She heard him inhale a long breath, splaying his liver-spotted hands across his desk blotter, clearly preparing himself for what he had to deliver next and her heart crashed against her ribcage, causing spasms of trepidation to ricochet around her body.

‘It’s a timely solution, Olivia. This is a difficult subject for me to discuss, but the firm’s income has tumbled considerably over the last year or so. All this ruddy uncertainty has bitten us all hard. To be honest, a 50 per cent reduction in your drawings would ease the burden on our Office Account expenditure.’

Olivia didn’t know what she had expected Henry to say, but it wasn’t that. Trepidation swiftly morphed into full-blown panic – if she’d thought her discussion with Henry about her divorce was going to be difficult, this conversation had climbed to a whole new level and she needed to fight her corner.

‘Henry, I realise the way I conduct my cases means there are fewer contested trials, and therefore there are not as many lucrative invoices at the end. But even so, the effects of a countrywide economic downturn can’t be laid at my office door!’

‘Of course not, and I wasn’t implying that, far from it. I’m actually very troubled by the breakdown of your marriage, Olivia, and the fact that your intensive work ethic may have in some way contributed to the sad state of affairs. No more ideal a couple have I come across than you and Nathan, and Jean agrees with me. You are so right for one another. If I’d been a betting man, I would have placed a month’s salary on you and Nathan being in the lucky half of the UK marriages that don’t end in divorce.’

‘Me neither, Henry, but it’s happened, and I have to deal with it.’

A surge of sorrow spread through Olivia’s chest when she saw the genuine sadness reflected in Henry’s eyes, but she also saw a steely determination to deliver his next, much more personal bulletin of truth and she wondered what he would think if she jumped out of her seat and ran back to her office.

‘I’m sorry, Ms Hamilton, that cool, calm exterior doesn’t fool me. I know you’re devastated by this turn of events, and who wouldn’t be? You crouch in that chair like a starved waif, with sunken eyes and a blanched complexion, not a highly skilled, respected professional. The law is a demanding mistress; many a lawyer has become addicted to the daily buzz delivered by the joust of advocacy, sucked into the euphoria of winning cases, obsessed with that spurt of adrenaline delivered to their veins as they spar with the likes of Ralph Carlton. They’re addicted to arguing the toss with their equally eloquent opponents, then adjourning to the pub to drink themselves delirious in order to douse their rampant stress levels.’

Olivia opened her mouth to argue, to tell Henry he was wrong, but, unusually, words failed her and she was relieved when the next part of his soliloquy was more softly delivered.

‘I can’t force you to invoke the sabbatical clause in our partnership agreement, but I fully intend to. I hereby give you notice that from the first of January next year, Jean and I will set sail from Southampton bound for Gibraltar; we will send regular postcards for the office noticeboard to remind everyone that there’s a great big world out there waiting to be explored! I truly hope that you’ll grasp this opportunity to take stock, Olivia, to answer some of life’s questions before you celebrate your fortieth birthday in December, so you must act now! If you agree to begin your sabbatical on the first of February, ten months—’

‘Ten months!’

‘Ten months would bring you back into the Edwards & Co fold on the first of December – two weeks before your milestone celebration – hopefully with a healthier, more balanced view of the world, with lessons learned and a readiness to move forward.’

‘No way, I can’t do it, Henry! What on earth will I do for ten months?’

The mere thought of spending all that time either holed up in her empty flat, alone, untangling her life from Nathan’s whilst he was in Singapore, or meandering aimlessly between her parents in Yorkshire and Hollie’s parents down in Cornwall sent shivers of dread through her body. Tears smarted at her eyes, but she gritted her teeth because Henry was continuing to press his case.

‘Travel. Reconnect with those neglected friends. Write your autobiography. Take up ballroom dancing with Rachel. Make a start on that “bucket list” you and Katrina are always talking about. Just take some time out to refocus on you.’

‘Thanks, Henry, and here was I thinking I was indispensable!’

Chapter 3

Olivia sat at her desk, staring out of the window as the last rays of daylight filtered through the gathering clouds. The door to her office was closed; a rare phenomenon caused by Miles’s newly acquired pastime of prowling the corridors on the hunt for stray titbits of gossip as his usual sources of information – Katrina and Geraldine, his long-suffering PA – had remained tight-lipped over Olivia’s future plans.

Over the last three weeks, she had felt Nathan’s absence from their apartment ever more acutely, despite the fact that even before he’d left for Singapore, they’d been the proverbial ships that pass in the night for months. Both Katrina and Geraldine had been sympathetic to her situation, but singleton Geraldine’s insight into the current dating scene had not been as helpful as she had imagined, and Miles’s contribution had been even less supportive – spending every day leading up to her impending departure smirking at the absurdity of her situation.

The prolific divorce lawyer had become one of the statistics! Hilarious!

The irony had not escaped her either, even in her pain-infused state, and she was desperate to unload a smidgeon of her distress into the ears of her oldest friend, and to receive her calm, level-headed advice and support.

‘But Rachel, seriously, I can’t just wallow around watching the Food Channel for the next ten months. Not only will I pile on the weight, but I’ll go stir crazy with boredom or self-analysis – and don’t you dare suggest I go on a world cruise like Henry did!’

A friend of both hers and Nathan’s, Rachel Denton had been an integral part of their close-knit gang at Durham University. But, whilst she and Nathan had marched off to put the legal principles they’d learned into practice, Rachel had continued the academic life of research, publishing papers, writing articles for specialist journals, as well as inspiring the next influx of eager, fresh-faced students. Then, last summer, her professional dream had materialised in the guise of a professorship, and she was currently engrossed in a project analysing the causes of marital breakdown in the twenty-first century, a subject she was passionate about, apart from the Dean’s refusal to allow her the funds to engage the services of a research assistant.

‘Well, the answer to your conundrum is to not sit around and stew at home. Why don’t you get the apartment valued, put it on the market, then jet off on a well-deserved holiday? I hear the Maldives are glorious at this time of year!’

Olivia smiled as she imagined Rachel ensconced in her cluttered study, flicking the end of her biro at her dangling earrings. Her friend was famous amongst her students for her vast array of hand-made earrings and Olivia had never known her to wear the same pair twice. She knew Rachel adored her life as an academic despite the tongue-in-cheek accusations of Anne, her now-frail mother, who called her daughter a ‘nosy parker’. Rachel, on the other hand, categorised her craving for digging into the personal lives of strangers as ‘an essential personality trait for all academics’. Whatever the label, Anne had been so proud when her only child had become the first girl in the family to attend university and achieve a first to boot.

Apart from her extensive academic duties, a close second in Rachel’s hit parade of obsessions – and on which subject she could wax lyrical until Olivia pleaded for mercy – was ballroom dancing. She was fond of reminding her friends, acquaintances and anyone else who would listen, that her passion for the Tango, Waltz and Cha-cha-cha pre-dated the current onslaught of all things Strictly, and she was the proud owner of a wardrobe full of sequin and gem-encrusted costumes that would make the ‘Ladyboys of Bangkok’ salivate.

And as for the shoes!

Olivia recalled Rachel’s admission that she had even, on one occasion, slept with a particularly special pair of glitter-heeled pumps – brand new, sparkling and not yet sullied by any contact with the pavement or dance floor – next to her on a silk pillow all of their own. She knew that to Rachel these sartorial creations were objects of great beauty, crafted by the hands of artisans. For all her quirkiness, or maybe because of it, Olivia loved Rachel; she was a down-to-earth, straight-talking Lancashire lass – there was no ‘War of the Roses’ between them.

‘Why don’t you come with me and Denise to Brighton on Saturday night?’ offered Rachel, the deep concern for her workaholic, neglectful friend and blinkered spouse, but all-round decent human being, evident in her voice. ‘You should see the dress I’ve splashed out on for the Salsa competition on Sunday. It wouldn’t look out of place on a dance floor in Copacabana Beach!’

‘Kind, but not really my thing, Rach.’

A shudder shot down Olivia’s spine as her imagination conjured up an image of herself in one of Rachel’s skimpy bejewelled outfits, her pale, stick-thin legs on public display. In reality though, her main objection was that she was so unfit there was no way she could manage ten minutes of the strenuous dance routines Rachel, Denise and their friends got involved with on the amateur ballroom dance circuit, let alone three hours.

‘Hey, hang on. I might just have a great idea!’

‘What sort of an idea?’

‘Yes, of course, it’s perfect!’

‘What’s perfect?’

Oh, God, she didn’t think she could stomach another of Rachel’s infamous ‘great ideas’!

‘So, am I right in thinking that sitting at home for the next few months, missing Nathan and mulling over what life has flung in your path, is not an appetising prospect?’

‘What do you think?’

‘Oh, I agree with you. I know you better than you know yourself, darling. “Driven” is a kind way of describing your manic work ethic.’

Olivia thought back to the last time she had set eyes on her friend. Not for a prearranged glass of her favourite prosecco rosé or a warm cinnamon latte at the local trendy café, but at a chance meeting in the local deli at eleven o’clock at night as they both searched for something to keep mind and body together – fast Italian food to replenish the soul, neither of them cared what it was. Whilst Rachel regularly frequented the university’s canteen to eat and augment her social life, ensuring a pleasantly rounded physique with calf muscles that even Bradley Wiggins would be proud of, her own waistline had not fared so well from her frenetic lifestyle.

Although Rachel would never have uttered such sacrilegious comments, Olivia knew her friend considered her to be unattractively slender and had tried to suggest lunch, an evening out, offered tickets to myriad dance exhibitions and, of course, Olivia had agreed to go, but had subsequently ended up cancelling or simply forgot. She had stopped counting the times she’d stood Rachel up. Their friendship over the last year had been sustained via Nathan or short, to-the-point email bulletins and the occasional random meeting at the deli.

‘And you’re not against taking a holiday, per se?’

‘No, but who would I go with? It’s February! Hollie and Matteo are saving their annual leave for the Easter holidays next month – Hollie is traipsing down to Cornwall to look after her parents’ restaurant so that they can take their annual break from the hungry hordes of Newquay, and Matteo and Hollie’s brother Elliot are jetting off for a week in the clubs of Ibiza before Elliot takes up his job as head chef, can’t remember where, but it’s definitely somewhere exotic.’

Hollie’s twin brother, Elliot, was Matteo’s childhood best friend. He’d been ecstatic about landing a prestigious position on his own merits and not because his parents owned a Michelin-starred restaurant. All four of them had celebrated long and hard one Saturday night at their local wine bar so the precise details of his new venture were a little fuzzy in Olivia’s mind.

‘What if I had a solution?’

‘You mean if we went together? Don’t you have research to do over the Easter break and getting your students ready for their exams?’ said Olivia, scavenging at the edges of her brain for plausible and persuasive protestations.

‘Exactly, I do. Not to mention an Argentinian Tango to perfect. Dennie would never forgive me if I went swanning off for a jolly when we could be rehearsing. No, but I do need someone to help me with my project. I can’t hope to be as thorough as I’d like to be without help and who better than a “Top Divorce Lawyer”? Ms Olivia “five-hundred-divorces-under-my-belt” Hamilton. You can be my research assistant! Only, Liv, I can’t pay you anything.’

‘Sorry, Rachel, I’m definitely not going to get involved in any academic projects. I don’t think I could stomach any more study.’

Olivia pushed herself out of her seat and went to look out of the window. On the pavements below, swathes of dark-suited commuters, heads bent, bloodshot eyes averted, jostled with their counterparts to save a few precious seconds in their rush to reach the Tube station at the end of the street. Even the tourists utilised their sharp elbows, impatient to capture the best photographic record of the magnificent London architecture that was studiously ignored by its inhabitants. Culture, art, history, they all oozed from the very fabric of the capital, but those who worked in the City had no time to stop and stare.

‘I wasn’t suggesting any study. What I’m talking about is research – a field trip, if you will.’

‘What sort of field trip?’ asked Olivia, aware her voice contained a suspicious edge.

‘A foreign one.’

‘Where to?’

This time her tone held an uptick of interest, and upon hearing the pique of curiosity, Olivia knew Rachel would be preparing to reel in her catch.

‘Well, my research is officially entitled “What causes marriages to break down?” I’m supposed to be looking at domestic abuse, financial difficulties during the recession, alcohol and drug addiction, the effects of the care system. But what I’d really like to focus on are the factors found in marriages that endure. The positives, if you will, rather than the negatives. An integral part of the project is gathering evidence to support the benefits of a “no fault” system in our divorce process, like they have in Denmark. Yes, almost 50 per cent of marriages do end in divorce for all the reasons I’ve been charged with researching, but, on the other side of the argument, that also means that over 50 per cent succeed and I’d like to find out why.’

‘Let me get this straight,’ mused Olivia, now that she had patiently listened to the ‘State of the universe’ according to St Rachel. ‘Are you suggesting your heartbroken, “soon-to-be-divorced” friend undertakes a fact-finding mission on your behalf to identify and report back on the elements found in failed marriages? Bit tactless, don’t you think?’

‘Not why they fail, why they succeed! Haven’t you just racked up five hundred divorces at Edwards & Co? Well, I am offering you the opportunity to redress the balance of negativity and misery with a shot in the arm for marital harmony and relationship contentment.’

‘I’m sick and tired of people referring to that article!’

‘All I’m saying is that you are ideally qualified to ask the right questions. You have time on your hands, and I take it you’re entitled to continue drawing your salary whilst you’re on sabbatical?’

‘Half, but as you know I’ve never had time to indulge in life’s luxuries, so I do have some savings put by. I suppose I can justify a foreign jaunt. But alone?’

‘You’re a big girl, Liv. I have the utmost confidence in your abilities. In fact, you are the ideal person for the role. Not only are you professionally skilled to undertake the research and write up your findings in a cogent and intelligent manner, you will also, unfortunately, have a unique personal insight of the process.’

‘Okay, so where is this wonderful place where marriages last and everyone lives happily ever after? Narnia? Cinderella’s Castle at Disneyland?’

‘Actually, it’s not just one place. Several countries score highly in the enduring relationship league – you’ll be surprised by some of the places on our list. New York has one of the lowest divorce rates in the US, would you believe?’

‘You want me to go to New York? Okay, the answer’s yes! I’d love to!’

In fact, now Olivia thought about it, there was something to be said for escaping the inevitable enquiries of family and friends, colleagues and clients, about her embarrassing personal tragedy. In Manhattan, she could blend seamlessly into the throng of anonymous tourists and citizens, her woes concealed from scrutiny.

‘Sorry, not New York, Liv. Malta.’

‘Malta?’

‘In fact, I’ve already arranged the meeting with my contact over there. We were going to try and do it by Skype but Niko asked for a personal visit as his grandparents would struggle with being interviewed via webcam. They’ve been married for sixty years and his parents have been married for forty. It’ll be fantastic if you could interview both couples. Malta holds the record for having one of the highest marriage rates in the EU coupled with one of the lowest divorce rates. Something good must be going on over there in the southern Mediterranean sunshine!’

‘Malta’s never been on my wish list, I’m afraid. Look, Rachel, I’m really not sure about this. I don’t think I should be leaving the country at the moment. I’m not convinced Miles and Lewis can handle my caseload, and there’s the apartment to—’

‘Did Henry give you his blessing to keep popping back into the office to inspect your colleagues’ progress whenever you like?’

A squirm of embarrassment snaked through Olivia’s abdomen. ‘Well, no, not exactly …’

‘What did he say precisely?’

‘“You’re barred from the premises”?’

‘So there’s no real reason why you can’t go to Malta other than your inability to accept that Edwards & Co can function without you?’

‘Well, no, but …’

‘And we might as well tackle the elephant in the room now. Did you talk to Nathan last night?’

‘I tried to call him, but …’

‘But?’

‘Well, his voicemail was on and I didn’t want to leave a message.’

‘So you call him again later!’

Olivia began to feel steamrollered. Her breath quickened and her temples felt as though they were being squeezed in a vice-like grip – with friends like Rachel who needed enemies! Of course, she was right; she did need to talk to Nathan, but he was in Singapore now and it just didn’t feel right, winding up their life together over the phone. She’d sent him a short text before he left two weeks ago, telling him she’d received the petition, and would be in touch to discuss it at some point, and she had got a one-word acknowledgement back, which had hurt more than she had expected. She knew he’d been about to board the plane, but how could things have got so bad that they were reduced to communicating via text message?

‘And don’t you think this trip to Malta will be the perfect distraction? Keeping busy will stop you from descending down the slippery slope into melancholy.’

‘I’m not descending into melancholy!’

‘Great, that’s settled then. You are officially my unofficial research intern. What I’d like you to do is undertake a series of trips to ascertain …’

‘Hey, back up there, Professor Denton, I’m not sure I heard you right. Did you just say “a series of trips”?’

‘Yes, marriage breakdown statistics have ballooned all over the world. It’s not just a UK phenomenon. Not every country allows divorce, of course. Some, on the other hand, have quite relaxed divorce laws. But as I’ve said, your brief is to concentrate on the institution of marriage. Much more inspiring, wouldn’t you say? I expect the evidence collated by you in Malta to confirm that similar cultural backgrounds factor highly in the longevity of marriage. Then, there’s Hawaii.’

‘What!’ Olivia spluttered. ‘I can’t just jet off to Hawaii!’

What exactly was happening here? Was this some sort of parallel universe?

‘Olivia Hamilton, correct me if I’m wrong, but I recall a very wistful expression on your face two years ago at my mother’s seventieth birthday party when you announced you had always wanted to visit Hawaii.’

‘Well, yes, but I didn’t mean now … and not by myself,’ she added softly because she had hoped to one day explore the exotic volcanic islands in the middle of the Pacific Ocean with Nathan by her side. ‘A trip to Hawaii is “bucket list” stuff – something to do before you die!’