A Hallowed Place (33 page)

‘Yeah,’ sniffed Felicity. She leant back against the pillows. ‘But I can’t help feeling responsible, in a way.’

‘You mustn’t worry,’ said Henry. ‘The thing to do is to get better, and then see how you can help Vince.’ He paused, stroking her hand, wishing he had the nerve just to put his arms around her. She looked so vulnerable, so pretty. ‘Everyone in chambers sends their love.’

Felicity smiled through her tears. ‘That’s nice. In fact, it’s the only good thing about all this. At least I’ve still got you lot.’

‘That’s right.’

She looked more closely at Henry. ‘You’ve shaved it off. I’ve only just noticed.’

‘Mmm. I got a bit bored with it.’

‘I’m glad,’ said Felicity. ‘I really liked you better without it.’

Anthony went home that night, his heart and mind full of Leo. It was the first time in many months that they had spent time alone together, apart from the Sunday when Anthony had gone to Stanton. Then relations had been tentative, still balanced on the uncertainties of Leo’s state of mind.
This evening, however, he had seemed to be recovering something of his old self. Leo had told him about Rachel’s decision, and it had only dawned on Anthony then, listening to him, just how much Oliver meant to Leo. Having never seen Oliver, Anthony had always had difficulty in imagining how he fitted into Leo’s life. From the very first time he had met him, Leo had been to Anthony a most singular creature, a man who purposely kept his life devoid of ties and emotional responsibilities. It was hard to think of him as a father. Clearly, however, it was now one of the most important aspects of Leo’s existence. Anthony felt a fleeting sense of envy, that this small being should occupy so vast a space in Leo’s life and heart. He had held such a place once.

He pondered these things as he strolled from the station to his flat. This evening had brought home to him how pleasurable it had all once been. Listening to Leo talk about Joshua had created again the atmosphere of intimacy which had once existed between them. He had found himself experiencing a touch of jealousy as Leo described the intensity of his feelings for the boy, but he was glad that Leo seemed to have recovered sufficiently to talk about the affair with some detachment. As he let himself into his darkened flat, Anthony realised that he hadn’t thought about Camilla once during the hours he had spent with Leo.

The following afternoon Anthony sat at his desk, deeply absorbed in work, when Leo knocked and put his head round the door. Anthony looked up and experienced that odd, tipping sensation in his heart at the sight of him, something he associated with his early days at Caper Court. It was only because of the dream he had had the night
before, he told himself. Its vestiges still clung there, like a veil across his thoughts. It was a long time since he had dreamt about Leo.

‘Chambers meeting. Had you forgotten?’

Anthony glanced at his watch and saw with surprise that it was four o’clock. ‘No. I just lost track of time. Hold on.’ He slipped on his jacket, and together he and Leo made their way upstairs to Cameron’s room, where the other tenants were assembling. In the weeks since Cameron’s death his personal belongings had been taken away by his widow, but the big man’s character and personality still seemed to pervade the room. The matter of his successor was the first item on the agenda, and it was agreed as a matter of course that Roderick, who had been acting head of chambers, should take over the position permanently.

Then, after a few minor matters of chambers’ expenditure had been dealt with, Jeremy raised the question of moving chambers to Sussex Street. With his customary confidence he recited the advantages of the move, the low rent, the additional prestige which state-of-the-art technology and facilities would bring to chambers, and the rest listened with a dull sense of inevitability. Leo glanced around at them. He caught Anthony’s eye and gave him a brief, secretive smile.

‘The fact is, if we look around for suitable premises within the Temple, we could wait for ever and there’s no guarantee that we’d secure the kind of terms we want. We need to expand, and quickly, and this seems to me the perfect option. I think it’s an unarguable case,’ concluded Jeremy.

With a little thrill of affection Anthony caught Leo’s smile. Leo glanced at Jeremy and remarked mildly, ‘Surely,
Jeremy, you’ve been at the Bar long enough to know that there’s no such thing as an unarguable case.’

‘Arguable or not, Leo, the fact is that this is the best we can do. And there’s no point in sentimentalising about the Temple, and tradition, and all that nonsense. I, for one, am fed up with the limitations of the place. There is no viable alternative.’

‘But there is,’ said Leo. He got up and walked to the window, holding the attention of the others. He glanced out, then turned to them. ‘In two weeks’ time Desmond Broadhurst will be vacating his flat on the top floor of 7 Caper Court. He’s lived there for years. The flat has eight good sized rooms, a kitchen and a bathroom. It’s perfect for our requirements. I’ve spoken to the Estates Committee about it and, subject to negotiations, they’re agreeable in principle to our taking it over as an annexe.’ There was a murmur of interest among the other barristers. ‘The advantages are obvious. We are spared the upheaval of complete removal, the additional rent we would have to pay remains on favourable terms, and we are still within the Temple. Now, Jeremy may fret under the yoke of tradition, but I for one can do without air-conditioning and windows I can’t open.’ Jeremy tried to bluster an interruption, but Leo carried on. ‘It also means that we are spared the tiresome business of drawing up a constitution, giving cross-indemnities and so forth. Those are aspects of Jeremy’s proposals which he hasn’t so far mentioned - or, perhaps, thought of.’ He paused, looking round. ‘So, I propose that we expand by taking over Desmond’s flat, rather than moving lock, stock and barrel out of the Temple.’

Leo strolled back to his seat and sat down. Roderick
looked round at the other members of chambers, his expression pleased and unmistakably relieved. ‘Well, I think we can take a vote on it, can’t we? Those in favour of expanding chambers to occupy the top floor of number seven, please raise your hands.’

Everybody raised their hands except Jeremy. Then he, too, shrugged and raised his hand. Much as he disliked being bested by Leo, he couldn’t object. Even he knew that it was a provident solution.

‘Excellent,’ said Roderick. He looked at Leo. ‘I take it that you’ll be able to get more details in due course from the Estates Committee so that we can discuss them at the next chambers meeting?’

‘Of course.’ Leo thrust his hands into his pockets and tipped his seat back, smiling in a way that Anthony hadn’t seen for a long time.

Leo drove home that night with a feeling of mild satisfaction, and enormous relief at the knowledge that the threat of leaving the Temple had been removed. With luck, he thought, as he walked from the garage to the flat, he could see out the rest of his days in Caper Court. Maybe that was a melancholy notion, beginning and ending one’s days in the same place. But to Leo it had a certain comfort. He went upstairs and let himself into the dark flat. He instantly felt a pang of longing for the days, not so long ago, when it would have been bright and welcoming, Joshua in the kitchen, or loafing around listening to music. Now it was silent. He felt himself beginning to tremble, the feelings within him give way. No, he couldn’t let that happen again. This was where
he had to live for the present. There was nowhere else that he could sensibly go. He snapped on some lights and went into the drawing room, poured himself a drink and sat down. The effort of holding together the pieces of his life, of presenting a sane facade to the world, was taxing. Day by day it got a little better, but Leo knew he still had a long way to go until he recovered from the events of the past few months. If he ever did.

At least he had the comfort of knowing that Oliver would be with him regularly. Thank God Rachel had given in. If she hadn’t, the court would almost certainly have rejected his application and that might just have finished him off. God knows what he’d have done then. One could only take so much of one’s world falling to pieces. Now, with the knowledge that he would see Oliver every other week and that chambers would be staying put, he felt a tenuous hope. The pain of losing Joshua didn’t diminish - there were still moments, wild and futile, when Leo felt as though he could willingly throw everything in and go and find him, try to bring him back. He had never loved anyone with such passion in his life. Still, to have known that depth of feeling, to have tasted the heaven and the hell of it, was perhaps not wasted. Work lessened the torment. He shouldn’t have spent so much time away. Leo drank some more of his whisky, leant his head back and closed his eyes.

It was because he was thinking of Joshua that the sound of the buzzer to the flat made him jump with a sense of
deja vu
. It ebbed away quickly. It couldn’t be Joshua. It never would be again. He went to the intercom.

‘Hello?’

‘Leo? It’s me, Sarah. Let me in - I’m freezing.’ He could almost hear the shiver in her voice.

Mildly surprised, Leo pressed the buzzer and opened the door, then went back into the drawing room and sat down.

He heard the front door close, then she appeared in the doorway, dressed in a full-length black coat, her blonde hair tucked into the collar.

‘Hi,’ she said. ‘I was in the neighbourhood, so I thought I’d drop by and see you.’

‘How very sociable of you. Help yourself to a drink.’ He realised that he felt quite grateful for the sight of her.

‘Thanks.’ She took off her coat and poured herself a Scotch, wandering round the room with it, glancing at books and paintings. ‘It’s all very tasteful, Leo. And quite clinical, if I may say.’ She sipped her drink. ‘Not like Stanton.’

‘Which do you prefer?’ Leo flipped open the silver box on the little table next to his chair and took out a cigar. Seeing this, Sarah picked up a heavy silver lighter from the mantelpiece and came across with it. She snapped it open and bent slightly to light his cigar. He murmured his thanks and watched her as she re-crossed the room to put it back, taking in the lines of her black-stockinged thighs. Did she really get away with wearing skirts that short to chambers, he wondered. No doubt David enjoyed it too much to say anything.

‘I prefer Stanton,’ said Sarah, sitting down opposite him and crossing her legs. ‘But then, I know it, don’t I? I have certain - memories.’

Leo smiled and drew on his cigar. ‘Your life must consist of a rich and varied assortment of memories.’

‘Mmm. Some are more amusing than others.’ She sighed. ‘To be honest with you, I get a little weary of it all. Men. Different men. In the end, they’re all much alike. Not you, though.’

‘No?’

‘No.’ She studied him as she sipped her drink. ‘I hear you managed to persuade the rest of chambers not to move to Sussex Street.’

‘They didn’t need much persuading. I simply came up with a better idea.’

‘You always do.’

‘Tell me, dearest Sarah, why exactly are you here? Not that it isn’t lovely to see you, but with you there’s usually an agenda.’

She shrugged. ‘None. I was bored.’ She fingered her glass. ‘And, to be honest, I’ve been worried about you.’

Leo let out a short burst of laughter. ‘Worried? You?’

‘Don’t laugh. I
was
worried when you were away. I knew you must be at Stanton. I almost went down to see you.’

He saw that she was sincere. ‘Well, that was sweet of you. But I think I’m over the worst,’ he lied.

‘Are you?’ She got up from her armchair and came over to him. She knelt down, setting her glass on the carpet, and folded her arms across his knee and rested her chin on them. There was something unguarded about the move which rather touched him. ‘I thought you might be feeling rather lonely. Or bored.’

‘Both. Potentially.’ He raised his cigar to his lips but she put up a hand and took it lightly from him, then crushed it into an ashtray.

‘In which case, since I was rather feeling that way, I thought we might keep one another company.’ She ran a hand slowly along the length of his thigh.

He smiled down at her, enjoying her practised flirtatiousness, the hidden depths of her glance. She always had been the most marvellous tease.

‘Come here.’ He drew her up so that she was kneeling between his legs. ‘Since you’re in the neighbourhood,’ he murmured, ‘I don’t see why not.’ And he kissed her, glad of the familiarity, the unthreatening, easy acceptance of their mutual desires. If anyone understood him, Sarah did.

Anthony parked his car on the north side of the square and sat there for a moment. He had done enough thinking. After the chambers meeting he had gone back to his room, and for two hours he had wrestled with his thoughts, searching his feelings, questioning his motives over and over again. He had told himself that it was simply a reaction to Camilla’s rejection, and an overreaction at that. Then he had tried to persuade himself that he was fantasising, creating an illusory ideal of a relationship founded on mere hope, without any substance. But he could not ignore it. It had grown on him all day. He had known last night, as they sat and talked, and he watched the lines of Leo’s face, the cadence of his voice. He wanted to be with the man, to be part of his life, on whatever terms. If he didn’t take this step now, he never would. It was all unknown, untested. But at least he knew what he felt.

He pulled his key from the ignition, got out and locked the car. Then, turning up the collar of his coat, trembling a little with the cold and the force of his own hopes and emotions, he crossed the deserted square, went up the steps, and pressed the bell of Leo’s flat.

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