"And he just stopped calling so frequently when he was away, and-and i thought it was odd- well, i suppose i knew really, i always had an inkling, you know!?"
I nod, smiling as politely as i can muster at nine forty-five on a Monday morning, having been up since four with a teething toddler and only one mug of coffee since. I fight back a yawn, as Mrs Watts unloads the burdens of a collapsing marriage behind a handful of Kleenex, dabbing appropriately at her streaking mascara.
Mrs Watts sniffles, pulling the tissues from in front of her mouth, only to wave it in the air instead. "Im so sorry; im being silly i know.. Its just- it came as such a shock; i just didn't expect to find the two of them together like that! And to think; in our bed as well!" And then shes nose deep in the tissues once more, wailing silently, head in her hands. I wait a couple of moments before i clear my throat.
"Mrs Watts?" I urge quietly, feeling awful but conscience of this appointment running over and merging into my next. I really cant afford to be working through lunch today if i want to leave this evening with a modicum of life left. Mrs Watts appears from behind her tissues once more, snivelling again with a small shake of her head.
"Yes, yes. Sorry; i am sorry."
"Its quite alright," I assure as best i can, pulling my chair further under my desk and hoping to God that Luke will bring me a coffee within the next ten minutes. "You're not the first and i most sincerely doubt that you will be the last either, but, Mrs Watts?" I swallow, leaning closer still, not that there is anyone else in my office but feeling it better to be safe than sorry.
"Mmh?" Mrs Watts looks up from her manicured fingernails i feel sudden a pang of nostalgia as i admire her sheeny burgundy polish, and amazingly even, but obviously St.Tropez tan. I remember when i had time for that level of personal grooming and i wonder out loud if she has any children.
"Two." Mrs Watts smiles, the first genuine smile ive seen since she stepped into my office half an hour ago. "Boys. Nine and Seven." And i watch as her eyes light up, crinkling every so slightly at the corners with that maternal glow that never really fades. She brushes a strand of chestnut hair from her eyes, reaching momentarily to pin it back into her up-do, her nude lips pursing into a thin line as she concentrates on getting it just so. There is no mirror needed, but really, when do mothers have time for mirrors anyway? And suddenly, i am awash with empathy for her and it is beyond my mental capacity, solicitor or not, to understand why on earth her husband would have wanted to cheat on her anyway. And then, when i feel i have gaped for long enough, but not really long enough to be noticed, i swallow again.
"Mrs Watts, this isnt exactly professional of me, and for goodness sakes, keep this to yourself, but im not going to begin the divorce proceedings yet."
Linda Watts' jaw drops for a second before snapping back up. "Why not? I bought everything you asked." She waves a tissue clutching hand towards my desk. "My employment information, social security number, Sean's social security numbe-"
"N-n-no." I smile now, trying to put this as delicately as i can without sounding like a sleep deprived mother desperate to loose business. "I just mean-i, -i just think that maybe youre not quite ready; not that you have to be- i mean." I pause, only to clear my head and start again. "Mrs Watts, if i may be so brazen to say that, in my personal opinion, disregarding my professional one completely, i think that it may be best for you to go home and talk to Mr Watts about the situation. If i understood correctly, youve not even told him that youre filing for divorce; in fact, youve not even seen him since the incidence in question. Go home Linda, go and talk to your husband; and then, if you really are sure, come back and i wont charge you for this appointment."
Mrs Watts is quiet for a few long seconds, staring at me, then down to her nails, and then back at me and for a horrid moment i think that i have said the wrong thing to the wrong person. But then, she smiles. A small smile, a barely even there smile, but a smile none the less.
"Thank you, Mrs Barlow." She urges quietly, standing from her seat opposite my desk and straightening her work trousers. "Youve been a great help to me."
I stand after her, leaning for the mandatory hand shake across the desk. "Its my pleasure, Mrs Watts. Im here to help, any time."
Linda smiles again, nodding more fluently this time. "Thank you. I should probably get back to work." She glances at the Armani watch on her wrist and i note, for the first time, that its a mans watch, presumably her husbands. Her smile widens when she sees ive noticed and Mrs watts concedes me a knowing, yes-sentiment-got-the-better-of-me shrug, before making her excuses a final time and closing the door behind her.
Peace. At last.
A quick glance at the time tells me i have just enough time to fix a coffee before my next appointment and so, i grab my phone from the top draw of my desk and decide, as it were, to kill two birds with one stone. Strutting my way, as quickly, but elegantly, as i can down to reception.
Theres a message from Clara, asking if its okay to give Ethan Calpol for his teething pains. I reply at lightening speeds, dodging Adam Shaw as he steps out of his corridor with an abundance of ring binders obscuring his view.
Then theres a message from my mother, asking if she and my father should come down for Ethan's birthday this weekend, again i reply, stopping only momentarily to pick up a piece of paper for the gentleman in front of me as he storms out of Sheila Thomas' office in a huff.
And then finally, as i round the corner into reception, theres a message from Gary, telling me that hes free from twelve until one and asking if i want a kid free lunch date. I click start on the coffee percolator, listening out for the tell-tale hiss of steam as it begins, freeing me up a moment to type a fast reply to Gary.
Recipient; Gary x
As utterly as appealing a toddler free lunch date at The Spaghetti House seems, im afraid ill have to decline. Blame Mrs Watts.
Have a nice lunch,
I love you x
By the time thats done, there is a steaming mug of coffee waiting and i have one minute and thirty two seconds until my next appointment. Ample.
Im half way back to my office when my phone begins to vibrate in my hand and i struggle to juggle the mug of boiling liquid and some folders, thrusted upon me by Claire in reception, in order to take the call.
"Hello?" My voice is strained as i perch the phone precariously between my ear and shoulder, freeing a hand to stuff the folders under my arm and move the mug to my left hand, all the while ambling back down the corridor.
"Hello you."
"Gary." I sigh quietly, fully aware that i have no time to take this call, but being soothed by the sound of his voice at the same time. "Im busy."
"Will you get lunch with me?"
"Did you not just hear me? Im busy. I cant just drop everything like those illustrious pop-stars. I have appointments to keep and a list of people to divorce." Though sounding moderately miffed, i smile none the less and i know he can tell. Hes smiling too. I know he is.
"I know babe, i know youre busy, but you need to eat.." Gary hums, with just a hint of the tone he uses when Ethan wont finish all of his dinner.
"I will eat Gary." I assure, coming to a stop outside of my office and peering through the gap in the door. Sure enough my ten fifteen is waiting in the seat Mrs Watts vacated just minutes before; Mr Rowlands taps a hand of stubby fingers against a ring binder full of real estate information."Ill just eat my lunch in the office."
"You dont have any lunch, Libby." Gary sounds sceptical, his voice dropping an octave and i realise, with another long sigh, that hes not going to let this go. "You didnt take any out with you this morning. You need to eat."
"Ill.." I have nothing to say. "Manage."
"Youre a fucking nightmare you know that dont you? Clear me half an hour at half twelve and ill bring you some lunch. You were going to go without food all day weren't you? You know, for a bright woman you can be frustratingly dense at times."
"Gary i dont need a lecture now, please." I beg, keeping my voice hushed so as not to make Mr Rowlands aware of my presence. "I was rushed off my feet with Ethan this morning, i didnt have time to get any. I thought id nip out to Costa and grab something but so far all both of this mornings clients have run over and if you dont let me go now this one will too, then i really wont have time to go and get anything, let alone clear you half an hour in the middle of the day. Have you really called me up while im at work to tell me off over not packing any lunch?" Not trying to hide the irritation leaking into my tone by the end of my mini rant, i step further out of the earshot of my next client.
Gary grumbles, sighing heavily. "Im just trying to look out for you." His voice is softer now; the voice of a man who is at his whits-end with an exasperating woman and I feel a twinge of guilt about my outburst.
"I know. I appreciate it." I breathe, smiling at Adam McRae as he steps out of his own office into the corridor. Twisting in some elaborate, and surely unnecessary fashion, i crane my neck to glance at my wrist watch; a gold Michael Kors runaway rose Gary bought me home from a trip to New York, and note that it is, in fact, ten seventeen. Surely i can afford to keep Mr Rowlands waiting for another three minutes?
"My mum text earlier.." I press, when Gary doesnt say anything.
"Oh yeah?"
"She wanted to know if they should come down for Ethans birthday this weekend."
"Will your dad be okay with the travelling?" Garys asks, genuinely concerned.
I sigh inwardly, "Honestly, i dont know. I dont even know if its worth it, i mean we've got nothing planned Gary. We've been so rushed off our feet these past couple of weeks we've not even given it a second thought other than the present buying, i feel awful bu-"
"Libby, he'll be three. He doesnt know shit from clay."
The expression makes me giggle.
"We'll do something last minute." Gary assures once ive finished drawing odd looks from Alice in finance. "We'll pull something together, itll be fine. Tell your mum and dad to come down, ill call my mum and Ian."
I nod. "Ill let them know."
"I suppose you should probably be getting back to work then?"
I sigh for the umpteenth time this morning, drawing in a sip of my still-too-hot coffee, but needing the caffeine more than a burn could deter. "I suppose i should.."
"Libby?"
"Yes?"
"Clear me that God damn half hour for lunch, okay?"
I smirk against the rim of my mug. "Ill see what i can do."
I nod, smiling as politely as i can muster at nine forty-five on a Monday morning, having been up since four with a teething toddler and only one mug of coffee since. I fight back a yawn, as Mrs Watts unloads the burdens of a collapsing marriage behind a handful of Kleenex, dabbing appropriately at her streaking mascara.
Mrs Watts sniffles, pulling the tissues from in front of her mouth, only to wave it in the air instead. "Im so sorry; im being silly i know.. Its just- it came as such a shock; i just didn't expect to find the two of them together like that! And to think; in our bed as well!" And then shes nose deep in the tissues once more, wailing silently, head in her hands. I wait a couple of moments before i clear my throat.
"Mrs Watts?" I urge quietly, feeling awful but conscience of this appointment running over and merging into my next. I really cant afford to be working through lunch today if i want to leave this evening with a modicum of life left. Mrs Watts appears from behind her tissues once more, snivelling again with a small shake of her head.
"Yes, yes. Sorry; i am sorry."
"Its quite alright," I assure as best i can, pulling my chair further under my desk and hoping to God that Luke will bring me a coffee within the next ten minutes. "You're not the first and i most sincerely doubt that you will be the last either, but, Mrs Watts?" I swallow, leaning closer still, not that there is anyone else in my office but feeling it better to be safe than sorry.
"Mmh?" Mrs Watts looks up from her manicured fingernails i feel sudden a pang of nostalgia as i admire her sheeny burgundy polish, and amazingly even, but obviously St.Tropez tan. I remember when i had time for that level of personal grooming and i wonder out loud if she has any children.
"Two." Mrs Watts smiles, the first genuine smile ive seen since she stepped into my office half an hour ago. "Boys. Nine and Seven." And i watch as her eyes light up, crinkling every so slightly at the corners with that maternal glow that never really fades. She brushes a strand of chestnut hair from her eyes, reaching momentarily to pin it back into her up-do, her nude lips pursing into a thin line as she concentrates on getting it just so. There is no mirror needed, but really, when do mothers have time for mirrors anyway? And suddenly, i am awash with empathy for her and it is beyond my mental capacity, solicitor or not, to understand why on earth her husband would have wanted to cheat on her anyway. And then, when i feel i have gaped for long enough, but not really long enough to be noticed, i swallow again.
"Mrs Watts, this isnt exactly professional of me, and for goodness sakes, keep this to yourself, but im not going to begin the divorce proceedings yet."
Linda Watts' jaw drops for a second before snapping back up. "Why not? I bought everything you asked." She waves a tissue clutching hand towards my desk. "My employment information, social security number, Sean's social security numbe-"
"N-n-no." I smile now, trying to put this as delicately as i can without sounding like a sleep deprived mother desperate to loose business. "I just mean-i, -i just think that maybe youre not quite ready; not that you have to be- i mean." I pause, only to clear my head and start again. "Mrs Watts, if i may be so brazen to say that, in my personal opinion, disregarding my professional one completely, i think that it may be best for you to go home and talk to Mr Watts about the situation. If i understood correctly, youve not even told him that youre filing for divorce; in fact, youve not even seen him since the incidence in question. Go home Linda, go and talk to your husband; and then, if you really are sure, come back and i wont charge you for this appointment."
Mrs Watts is quiet for a few long seconds, staring at me, then down to her nails, and then back at me and for a horrid moment i think that i have said the wrong thing to the wrong person. But then, she smiles. A small smile, a barely even there smile, but a smile none the less.
"Thank you, Mrs Barlow." She urges quietly, standing from her seat opposite my desk and straightening her work trousers. "Youve been a great help to me."
I stand after her, leaning for the mandatory hand shake across the desk. "Its my pleasure, Mrs Watts. Im here to help, any time."
Linda smiles again, nodding more fluently this time. "Thank you. I should probably get back to work." She glances at the Armani watch on her wrist and i note, for the first time, that its a mans watch, presumably her husbands. Her smile widens when she sees ive noticed and Mrs watts concedes me a knowing, yes-sentiment-got-the-better-of-me shrug, before making her excuses a final time and closing the door behind her.
Peace. At last.
A quick glance at the time tells me i have just enough time to fix a coffee before my next appointment and so, i grab my phone from the top draw of my desk and decide, as it were, to kill two birds with one stone. Strutting my way, as quickly, but elegantly, as i can down to reception.
Theres a message from Clara, asking if its okay to give Ethan Calpol for his teething pains. I reply at lightening speeds, dodging Adam Shaw as he steps out of his corridor with an abundance of ring binders obscuring his view.
Then theres a message from my mother, asking if she and my father should come down for Ethan's birthday this weekend, again i reply, stopping only momentarily to pick up a piece of paper for the gentleman in front of me as he storms out of Sheila Thomas' office in a huff.
And then finally, as i round the corner into reception, theres a message from Gary, telling me that hes free from twelve until one and asking if i want a kid free lunch date. I click start on the coffee percolator, listening out for the tell-tale hiss of steam as it begins, freeing me up a moment to type a fast reply to Gary.
Recipient; Gary x
As utterly as appealing a toddler free lunch date at The Spaghetti House seems, im afraid ill have to decline. Blame Mrs Watts.
Have a nice lunch,
I love you x
By the time thats done, there is a steaming mug of coffee waiting and i have one minute and thirty two seconds until my next appointment. Ample.
Im half way back to my office when my phone begins to vibrate in my hand and i struggle to juggle the mug of boiling liquid and some folders, thrusted upon me by Claire in reception, in order to take the call.
"Hello?" My voice is strained as i perch the phone precariously between my ear and shoulder, freeing a hand to stuff the folders under my arm and move the mug to my left hand, all the while ambling back down the corridor.
"Hello you."
"Gary." I sigh quietly, fully aware that i have no time to take this call, but being soothed by the sound of his voice at the same time. "Im busy."
"Will you get lunch with me?"
"Did you not just hear me? Im busy. I cant just drop everything like those illustrious pop-stars. I have appointments to keep and a list of people to divorce." Though sounding moderately miffed, i smile none the less and i know he can tell. Hes smiling too. I know he is.
"I know babe, i know youre busy, but you need to eat.." Gary hums, with just a hint of the tone he uses when Ethan wont finish all of his dinner.
"I will eat Gary." I assure, coming to a stop outside of my office and peering through the gap in the door. Sure enough my ten fifteen is waiting in the seat Mrs Watts vacated just minutes before; Mr Rowlands taps a hand of stubby fingers against a ring binder full of real estate information."Ill just eat my lunch in the office."
"You dont have any lunch, Libby." Gary sounds sceptical, his voice dropping an octave and i realise, with another long sigh, that hes not going to let this go. "You didnt take any out with you this morning. You need to eat."
"Ill.." I have nothing to say. "Manage."
"Youre a fucking nightmare you know that dont you? Clear me half an hour at half twelve and ill bring you some lunch. You were going to go without food all day weren't you? You know, for a bright woman you can be frustratingly dense at times."
"Gary i dont need a lecture now, please." I beg, keeping my voice hushed so as not to make Mr Rowlands aware of my presence. "I was rushed off my feet with Ethan this morning, i didnt have time to get any. I thought id nip out to Costa and grab something but so far all both of this mornings clients have run over and if you dont let me go now this one will too, then i really wont have time to go and get anything, let alone clear you half an hour in the middle of the day. Have you really called me up while im at work to tell me off over not packing any lunch?" Not trying to hide the irritation leaking into my tone by the end of my mini rant, i step further out of the earshot of my next client.
Gary grumbles, sighing heavily. "Im just trying to look out for you." His voice is softer now; the voice of a man who is at his whits-end with an exasperating woman and I feel a twinge of guilt about my outburst.
"I know. I appreciate it." I breathe, smiling at Adam McRae as he steps out of his own office into the corridor. Twisting in some elaborate, and surely unnecessary fashion, i crane my neck to glance at my wrist watch; a gold Michael Kors runaway rose Gary bought me home from a trip to New York, and note that it is, in fact, ten seventeen. Surely i can afford to keep Mr Rowlands waiting for another three minutes?
"My mum text earlier.." I press, when Gary doesnt say anything.
"Oh yeah?"
"She wanted to know if they should come down for Ethans birthday this weekend."
"Will your dad be okay with the travelling?" Garys asks, genuinely concerned.
I sigh inwardly, "Honestly, i dont know. I dont even know if its worth it, i mean we've got nothing planned Gary. We've been so rushed off our feet these past couple of weeks we've not even given it a second thought other than the present buying, i feel awful bu-"
"Libby, he'll be three. He doesnt know shit from clay."
The expression makes me giggle.
"We'll do something last minute." Gary assures once ive finished drawing odd looks from Alice in finance. "We'll pull something together, itll be fine. Tell your mum and dad to come down, ill call my mum and Ian."
I nod. "Ill let them know."
"I suppose you should probably be getting back to work then?"
I sigh for the umpteenth time this morning, drawing in a sip of my still-too-hot coffee, but needing the caffeine more than a burn could deter. "I suppose i should.."
"Libby?"
"Yes?"
"Clear me that God damn half hour for lunch, okay?"
I smirk against the rim of my mug. "Ill see what i can do."
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