15
SARAH
Peter’s debrief of his meeting pierces through the bubble I’ve been living in with Hal. Mrs Davis is a personal injury client who broke her leg, tripping on a pole left lying around by a builder; she’s been offered a settlement but seems determined to have her day in court. ‘I spent an hour on the phone to her yesterday, trying to explain that life doesn’t work the way it seems to onSuits. It won’t be a glamorous David and Goliath situation, and she’ll probably end up with less of a payout than she will if she takes this one. But she’s adamant.’
I promise Peter I’ll give Mrs Davis a call myself, and he updates me on the other important files. Then, ‘How’s the holiday going?’ he asks.
‘It’s not really a holiday,’ I say, although to be fair, I’m sitting here in my bikini, iced drink at my side, and my tan is coming on nicely.
‘Sure. Still, nice to be working from the south of France rather than rainy Cambridge.’
‘You got me there.’
‘Well, hurry back. You’re missed.’
‘Ha! Am I?’ I say, smiling. I can’t for a minute imagine that anyone’s too concerned about my absence. I remember being a more junior member of a legal team, and whenever the big boss was away, I’d feel more relaxed somehow, as if there wasn’t someone looking over my shoulder all the time. I’ve tried to cultivate a more casual environment in my own practice, but know by the way everyone straightens when I come into a room that clearly there’s only so much you can achieve to put people at ease when you’re paying someone’s salary.
‘Yeah. You are.’ He’s quiet for a moment. ‘Can I be honest?’
Oh God, he’s going to tell me that some case or other has gone horribly wrong in my absence…I brace myself.
‘Of course,’ I say, as if his opening hasn’t filled me with dread.
‘Imiss you.’
I grimace. ‘Sorry, Peter. You know, if the work’s building up, I can take more on over here. I’ve got good Wi-Fi, a laptop. I can make calls… I?—’
‘Not your work contribution.’ He clears his throat. ‘Things seem—I guess I miss having you around.’
‘Oh.’
Another pause. ‘I know it’s maybe the wrong thing to say to a business partner. But sometimes I wonder if we could be… well, more than that.’
Peter and I have worked together for fifteen years, stepped aside from our employer to start our own practice eight years ago. We’re friends as well as colleagues and get on famously. But I’ve never really seen him as anything other than a mate.
‘Sorry. Should have kept it to myself, probably.’
‘No! No, it’s fine. It’s nice,’ I say uncertainly.
‘It is?’ He seems so buoyed by this that I’m worried I’ve overstepped.
‘Peter, listen, we’ll talk when I get back, OK?’
‘Yes! Absolutely!’ he still sounds unnervingly upbeat. ‘Looking forward do it.’
Gawd.
I hang up and make a few notes and try not to think of the awkward conversation I’m going to have to have with Peter when we return.
In many ways, on paper, Peter would be the perfect partner for me. For starters, he understands law, he knows the pressure that I’m under and is a great listener. We do get on well, and have been for a drink after work more times than I can count. He makes me laugh. And he’s handsome too, always well dressed. Good-natured.
Mum would be over the moon if I ended up with someone like him. But there’s something missing, that essential element that tips someone from good friend to lover. I suppose I just don’t fancy him. We’ve always felt so… platonic.
I close my laptop, put my phone on the table in the shade, then lie back on my chair. My leg, slightly in the sun, feels soothed by its warmth. Life would be so simple if I could be attracted to someone like Peter. Someone dependable. I’m not one of those women who always seeks out ‘bad boys.’ If I’m honest, I don’t know if I even have a type. I just… I suppose I have a feeling sometimes. And I’m still searching for that.
My mind wanders to Hal. I’d thought the journey with him would be unbearable. But I’m actually quite enjoying it. Maybe it’s just the surprise that it’s not a complete nightmare making me feel this way, but I’m starting to realise that some of the things I’d thought about him over the years might have been a little harsh.
Then, as if I’ve conjured him with my thoughts, Hal appears around the bend of the sloping track through the campsite. He’s smiling and holding a stick like a shepherd. And talking to a tall man with chin-length hair and a beard as if they are old friends.
