The Charlton Affair (7 page)

Stopping outside the door, he listened carefully, considering what to do. After thinking it through carefully, he realized Phoebe was old enough to make her own choices, even if she was on shaky ground at the moment. After all, it was Phoebe he saw leading Charlie away, not the other way around, and to the laundry of all places.
Perhaps it was a simple mishap?
He heard the tap running.
Yes, some sort of spill.

Relieved, he thought of walking back to the party, but his curiosity got the better of him and he continued listening, hearing Phoebe say something. There was no response from Charlie. He waited. Then, unable to stop himself, he tapped and opened the door.

The two women rapidly sprang apart, startled and embarrassed. Roman eyed them both, noting the unmistakable glow of mutual passion. He was not pleased with Charlie, but kept his voice civil. Apologizing for the interruption, he quietly closed the door and stalked off to find Mark.

“You won’t believe it,” he told Mark, who listened patiently.

“I just interrupted Phoebe and Charlie Moss, snogging in our laundry!”

Mark nodded at him and said evenly, “That’s an improvement on the last party. At least they weren’t having a punch-up in the pool.”

Roman rolled his eyes, remembering the debacle Mark was referring to, “Yes, well, how was I to know? I mean, you invite people to a dinner party and you don’t expect them to be having secret affairs with each other’s partners.”

Mark said nothing.

Roman continued defensively, “I agree it would have been better if the cuckold had found out somewhere else, if only to save our furniture.”

Mark sighed and touched Roman’s arm softly, saying, “I didn’t mean it as a criticism, sweetheart. I’m just saying we’ve had a lot worse than a couple of consenting adults kissing in the laundry. Anyway, didn’t you say Phoebe was over her husband? Maybe this is why?”

“Oh my God! You’re right. She fainted in the food court after meeting Charlie. And she did have something to tell me. I just never got to it.” Roman looked at Mark as a whole new set of possibilities bloomed in his mind.

Roman’s anger at Charlie evaporated as he anticipated cornering Phoebe later and dragging the juicy details out of her.
Maybe Phoebe is the femme fatale? Poor Charlie! How could she resist, hopeless romantic that she is?

Mark kissed him lightly on the cheek, teasing him, “You should be happy! We’ve had the requisite scandal for the evening. Besides, I have no doubt you’ll enjoy torturing poor Phoebe about it.”

Roman smiled and replied, “You know me too well.”

He watched as Charlie re-entered the outdoor room, looking utterly miserable. “First, though, I’ll get to work on Charlie.”

Roman left, moving directly over to Charlie.

Before he could speak, she said, “Don’t bother. I’m leaving.”

“That bad?” Roman raised an eyebrow in surprise.

“Worse.” Charlie replied morosely.

“I’ll walk you out.”

*****

Phoebe sat up in bed, too agitated for sleep. Pleading a headache, she had staved off Roman’s attempt to pump her for details. Sadly, she was alone in the luxurious bed in Roman’s beautifully appointed spare room. She ached to be with Charlie, despite what she’d said. She couldn’t help reliving the moment they kissed, as she had done so many times already. The feel of Charlie’s lithe body pressed against hers and the passion of her caresses had left Phoebe dizzy with desire and joy, only to be crushed shortly afterwards by Charlie’s cruel rejection.

Phoebe replayed every moment of time she’d spent with Charlie, analyzing each look and phrase. She knew with absolute certainty that she wanted to become the woman who stayed around for Charlie. The one to change her luck. She felt in her heart that Charlie wanted that too.
So why? Why had she said it was impossible? That she had a momentary lapse in judgment and that they should forget it ever happened.
It didn’t make sense to her.
How could she look at me like that, hold and kiss me like that, and then say it was a lapse in judgment?

Lost and confused, Phoebe sank down and sobbed into her pillow. Her life was a complete shambles. She had been attacked in her own home, and didn’t want to go back there. She was completely bewildered about herself and her feelings. Her husband was nice but she was utterly besotted with Charlie. Charlie was either not besotted with her, or lying about it. The only stable thing was her work. Except that she had been having a lot of trouble concentrating at work. If that continued, she knew work wouldn’t stay stable for long.

Chapter Six

Amanda was concerned about the change in Charlie. She had been downright pathetic for three days now, a mood she had never before witnessed in her boss. Charlie could be fiery at times, especially if she was hungry, and sometimes saddened, but never before had she been defeated. She was just going through the motions. She was getting the work done, but without her usual gusto. Luckily, Charlie was not in court until Friday. Hopefully she would recover by then. The only time she had been animated all week was when they met up with Darren Franks on Monday afternoon.

Charlie had called her into the meeting to discuss the information about Michael Rawlins. Darren was simultaneously horrified and gleeful at such a juicy scandal concerning one of his clients. Amanda realized Charlie had been very wise to let Darren in on the secret before confronting Michael. Now Darren had time to compose himself. Amanda knew he would never act unprofessionally, but if even a grain of his love of salacious information leaked out, it would make things unnecessarily harder for Michael.

Interestingly, Charlie had seemed quite keen to get rid of the brief and end her connection with Michael Rawlins. She had told Darren she would be rendering her account shortly. Darren had replied that Michael might need further advice. Charlie had expressed her confidence in his capacity to handle things from now on. It was puzzling behavior.

Amanda was certain something pivotal had happened on the weekend. She knew Charlie had been at Roman’s party on Friday night. Amanda was aware that Charlie usually spent her weekends catching up on work and doing household chores, so it must have been the party.

She was still pondering what could have caused the complete change in Charlie’s demeanor when she heard Charlie’s office door opening. Charlie rushed out, her expression animated.

“I’ll be back in an hour or so,” Charlie said as she hurriedly breezed by the reception desk. “I’ve got my iPhone if you need me.”

“Sure,” Amanda replied, but Charlie was already in the foyer impatiently stabbing the lift button with her forefinger.

Amanda resumed her work, wondering what had brightened Charlie so much. A law clerk arrived with another brief. After logging it in, Amanda unpacked it and took it into Charlie’s office and placing it on the section of her desk reserved for new briefs. In the process, Amanda accidentally bumped Charlie’s mouse. She leaned over to straighten it and Charlie’s screen came to life, displaying an image of Phoebe Rawlins. It was the one from her Nilson Banks bio. Amanda’s clever mind surmised that Phoebe had been at Roman’s party. She wondered what had happened between the two women. Whatever it was, it hadn’t worked out well.

*****

Charlie perused the menu at the ridiculous chocolateria Roman favored. Too nervy to load herself up with chocolate and coffee, she wisely ordered peppermint tea as she waited for Roman. Luckily, this time he arrived without delay.

“Oh dear,” he said, tutting as he kissed her cheek, “We do look tired.”

Charlie nodded, rubbing her forehead. Not bothering with small talk, she demanded, “Well?”

He perused the menu, signaling the waiter to come over.

“She’s a mess,” he said, before ordering his usual chocolate croissant and coffee.

Charlie sank in her chair, despondent. She had hoped Phoebe wouldn’t take it too hard. Part of her was gratified that Phoebe cared, but she cringed at being the cause of her suffering.

Looking at her, Roman said, “Charlie, I don’t understand your ridiculous behavior. Clearly you’re into her. She’s definitely into you. She’s mooning around like a love-struck teen. You’d think she’s never had a crush before. What’s the problem? Is it her marriage?”

Roman was obviously frustrated with the whole situation, even though he clearly enjoyed the intrigue.

Ignoring his questions, Charlie’s expression was serious as she replied, “I can’t go anywhere near her, as much as I want to. And believe me. I want to. At least, not at the moment.”

Roman frowned.

Charlie shook her head, and admonished herself, “I never should have gone near her in the first place.” With a puzzled expression, she added, “It’s weird, but I just couldn’t seem to help it. I don’t think I’ve ever lost control like that before.”

Charlie’s reserve was all but rubbed away by her turbulent emotions. She never confided in people that way, and especially not Roman.
What’s happening to me?
She trusted his discretion, but he usually relished the details far too much for her to be comfortable with disclosing her feelings to him.

Roman nodded in understanding, “Yes, she’s a rare one. She can’t see it in herself, but there’s something extremely compelling about her. There are so many people at Nilson Banks who are attracted to her and she hasn’t got the remotest inkling. You should see her at conferences. She charms them all and stays totally clueless about it!”

Charlie sighed, torn between needing to hear more and trying not to fuel her obsession.

“It’s weird… I don’t even know her.” Charlie muttered, her pain obvious.

Roman’s brow furrowed and he asked, “Charlie, if you’re that keen, why can’t you just let it happen?”

“Look, I can’t explain it to you either. You’ll just have to trust me. There’s a very good reason for my behavior. And there’s nothing at all I can do to change it.” She replied sadly but firmly.

Roman scrutinized her, looking for truth. Charlie held his gaze. Finding it, he sighed and sipped his coffee.

*****

Phoebe sat in the waiting room, early for her appointment with Doctor Briggs. He walked down the narrow hall to greet her, escorting her to the little counseling room. Having decided therapy was not such a bad idea after all, she was very glad to see him.

Relaxing in his company, she explained what had happened recently. He gave her some practical breathing exercises and coping strategies for when she became overwhelmed with strong emotion, something previously foreign to her. He explained that these would help her with her fear of the Hamilton house as well the grief she was experiencing.

Looking at his kind face, she said, “Grief? Is that what this is?”

“Yes, I believe so. Grief for your marriage and grief for your lost opportunity. Of course, there will be some residual pain around your sexual identity, but we can explore that later. Let’s focus on one thing at a time. You have enough on your plate.”

By taking her gently through the grief cycle, he was able to assist her with knowing what to expect. She felt greatly reassured. At least now she had some skills to deal with the roller-coaster ride her life had become, instead of just hanging on and praying for it to stop.

*****

Roman sat opposite Mark at a prime table in a new restaurant he’d been dying to try. The meal had been every bit as excellent as he’d been told it would be. Sipping his full-bodied red wine, he explained to Mark what Charlie had said, expressing his frustration.

“What on earth could possibly be so important that she had to cut the poor woman off like that?” Roman exclaimed, the wine lending force to his animation.

“She plainly wants to be with her. I hate not knowing all the details.” Roman continued.

Mark looked across the table in his usual quiet style, waiting to be certain Roman had finished speaking.

Eventually, he said, “Just think about it for a moment. Why would a barrister not be able to spend time with someone she really likes? You’ll soon figure it out.”

Roman pondered Mark’s words for a moment and then his face lit up, “Oh my God! Mark, you’re so clever. Of course! She has a conflict of interest.”

Mark nodded.

“No wonder she couldn’t say anything. She’s working for Michael! What’s that scum-bag up to?”

Roman’s mind was now fully engrossed in the possibilities.

“What areas does Charlie practice in?” Mark asked.

“Family, crime and tax. That’s how I met her. We had a mutual client.”

“There’s your answer then.” Mark said.

“Well, it’s not crime, we’d know about it if it was. Usually if the husband does something, the police interview the wife. It must be something to do with his money or maybe he wants a divorce?”

“Divorce seems a bit simple, but getting advice on a property settlement might be it? Or maybe he’s in trouble with the tax office? I’m just guessing.” Mark replied.

“But all she has to do is dump him. She can pass his case to another barrister.” Roman said.

“It’s not that easy. Have you heard of the Cab-rank Rule?”

Roman shook his head.

Mark explained, “Barristers have an obligation to accept anyone seeking help in their area of practice. They can’t just pick and choose their clients, or some people would never be able to get fair representation. Charlie would need a very good reason to refuse to assist Michael. If she turned him away and he complained to the Bar Association, Charlie could be investigated. She’s better off trying to finish his matter and then wait a while. She could be in a lot of hot water if she gets out now. Imagine if whatever it is goes to court and Phoebe wins and Michael’s new lawyer says she won because Charlie leaked information to her? Pillow talk? Even if she said nothing, it would be a very bad look. She could lose her practicing certificate.”

Roman’s lit up in understanding, “What a horrible situation! At least I can tell poor Phoebe there’s a good reason.”

“Actually, you can’t say a word.” Mark replied, looking serious.

“What? Don’t be ridiculous!” Roman chided, “Phoebe’s in so much pain over this silly situation.”

“If you tell her and she does something to jeopardize Michael’s legal or financial position or even if she just tells him she knows, and it gets discovered, Charlie will be investigated.” Mark said sternly.

Roman groaned. It was an excruciating form of torture, being stuck between these unhappy women, unable to assist either of them. He picked up his glass and drained it.

*****

Phoebe threw herself into her work. Determined to maintain at least one area of her life in a functional state, she worked long hours and took on new projects. She had no desire to be at the Hamilton house. As far as she was concerned, the less time she spent there, the better. The extra work also had the added benefit of helping to distract her from her situation.

Finally switching off her computer, she gathered her things to go home. It had been dark for hours and if she stayed any longer she would not get enough time to sleep. Even worse, Michael was due back tomorrow, and she didn’t have a clue what to say to him, or how to be around him. She felt like running off to somewhere very far away. Her sister was working at a mining project in Mongolia. For a moment she seriously considered visiting her.

As she pulled out of her car park she noticed an unusual stain in her bay. She reminded herself to tell building maintenance about the stain tomorrow, so they could clean it away in case anyone slipped over. Driving along Kingsford Smith Drive at Hamilton, she enjoyed the gorgeous view of the Brisbane River at night. Her new Volvo was lovely and smooth to drive. Shivering, she had a flashback to the old Volvo and what it felt like reversing at speed into the garage roller door. She remembered Doctor Briggs’ advice and regulated her breathing, bringing her mind back to the present moment. It worked and she was once again able to enjoy the drive home.

Just before the turnoff into Racecourse Road, her car started to shudder violently. Suddenly, she lost all control over the steering and brakes. She was travelling at almost sixty kilometers per hour toward a busy intersection. Unable to slow down or change direction, she shot straight into the intersection, frantically wrenching at the wheel, screaming in sheer terror. A truck was coming directly at her. The last thing she heard was the sound of tires screeching and a sickening thud.