The Girl in the Yellow Vest (46 page)

BOOK: The Girl in the Yellow Vest
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The judge nodded and then turned to the room at large as Charlotte resumed her seat. ‘The applications before me present a number of serious concerns and while I don’t propose to reserve my decision, I do intend to take a recess to gather my thoughts and we will reconvene after lunch at two-fifteen pm.’ He turned to his associate and the clerk of the court who immediately said, ‘All rise. This court is adjourned until not before two-fifteen pm.’

Without further ado, his Honour and his associate walked out.

Charlotte released a long shaky breath. It was now in their hands. Trent turned to her with a smile. ‘You did well.’

‘Did I?’ she asked, her fingers cold and trembling. She had to clasp them together to stop them shaking.

‘Very well.’ He nodded optimistically. ‘Let’s go have lunch.’

Without even glancing at Dennis Mayer or his lawyer she got up and filed out of the courtroom after Trent. To be honest, she did want to get out of there as quickly as possible even though she wasn’t the slightest bit hungry. How could she eat while the judge deliberated over Zara’s future? Her stomach was churning far too much already.

In the hall, Mark and Emily were already standing there waiting for them. She met Mark’s solemn eyes over Emily’s shoulder as the girl immediately stepped forward to give her a hug. Although he said nothing, she took both strength and comfort from his steadfast gaze.

She knew she had feelings for this man. Deep feelings. Feelings that she didn’t want to think about because if it was love she must be crazy. There was nothing lover-like about him. He was blunt, abrasive, rude and obnoxious. The number of times he had insulted her were no longer countable. Yet, here he was. By her side, in this time of need. Like an anchor, keeping her in safe harbour – cocooned in his care, however distantly he gave it. He’d bought her airline tickets, paid for the lawyer and the accommodation . . . even come along. But what was she supposed to do with all that if he would admit nothing? When she had challenged him on his motives, he’d pushed her further away. In fact, he completely refused to acknowledge feelings for her at all – if there were any. Perhaps it was a bloody big assumption on her part. He could just be a man who took his position as an employer very seriously.

The wife he had lost coloured his life to the point where he’d let his grief take control of it. If she could not break through the barrier he had set around himself then what future could they have? She would not be part of a relationship that included a ghost.

‘I saw this great little place down the road on our way here,’ Emily was saying. ‘Do you want to go there for lunch?’

‘Sure.’ Charlotte again tasted sawdust in her mouth at the thought of food, but this time she didn’t know whether it was because of Mark or Zara. Maybe both.

Two hours later after a very lacklustre lunch at a little café called Noel, the four of them returned to the Family Court to receive the judge’s decision. Charlotte shivered as she walked into the room and sat down even though she wasn’t cold.

Just tell me what I want to hear.
She repeated the words like a mantra, keeping her eyes firmly on the front of the room rather than on Dennis or his lawyer.

‘All rise,’ said the clerk of the court. They all took their places.

Charlotte had to purposely make herself not hold her breath as she resumed her seat.

‘The applicant has made a solid case for custody, however, on balance I cannot, at this time, grant him even partial parental responsibility or residence for Zara Templeton.’

Charlotte could not stop the smile from stretching across her face or relief from swelling her chest.

‘Although it is not a matter for this court to decide whether relations between Virginia Templeton and Dennis Mayer were of an unlawful nature, there have been some very serious issues raised with regard to Zara’s current mental health. And it is clear that it is not in her best interest to change her home life at this time. Given that Zara has been in Ms Charlotte Templeton’s care for the last fifteen years without mishap I do grant her parental responsibility and residence at this time. However, I will state that Zara is of an age now where she is capable of making some of her own decisions. If her mental health were to improve and she wishes to seek a relationship with her father then, if necessary, this matter can be brought back before me and we can assess other issues such as whether it is an acceptable risk to have Zara partially in his care.’

And then, in a flurry of final formalities, the judge gave a nod to both parties. ‘Court adjourned.’

It was all Charlotte could do not to scream for joy as the judge and his associate filed out.

She heard Dennis Mayer’s chair roughly push out and hit the bench behind him. She looked up as he slammed his file shut. Their eyes met for a brief moment across the room, and she received the full blast of his fury. She braced herself against it. It didn’t matter. He couldn’t touch her now. Even as she finished the thought, he turned to Ms Pylforth, who was trying to reclaim his attention. ‘I’m sorry, Mr Mayer. I thought we had a better chance.’

He seemed to pull himself together quickly enough, an oily smile slicked across his lips to match the sheen on his forehead.

‘Would you care for a debrief over a drink, Ms Pylforth? I know a good pub nearby.’

Charlotte shuddered as the two of them walked out.

Suddenly she felt a hand cover hers and realised that she was still sitting there at the desk in a kind of stupor.

‘Are you okay?’ a gentle voice inquired.

She looked up to find it was Mark who was addressing her. Trent had moved away to speak to Emily.

‘Definitely.’ She smiled radiantly at the remembrance of her win. She turned her hand over to grip his. For a moment, just a moment, he stood there and she sat there, holding hands and gazing into each other’s eyes, a perfect bubble of triumph and bliss. And then, as she knew he would, he withdrew his hand and put it into his pocket.

‘Well, Charlotte, I guess your holiday is over. Time to get back to work.’

Ah, the insensitive remark that always followed. ‘How lovely of you to remind me.’ She stood up briskly, pushing in her chair and straightening her jacket. ‘Shall we go?’

‘I thought you’d never ask.’

They went out into the foyer, where Emily and Trent looked like they were having an argument. As soon as Emily saw Charlotte she spun around in relief. ‘You know what we should do?’ she exclaimed.

‘What’s that?’ Charlotte inquired lightly.

‘Go shopping,’ Emily suggested with a tad too much enthusiasm. ‘I’ve never been to Brisbane before and it’ll be a great way to kill the rest of the afternoon.’

‘Sounds good.’ Charlotte smiled watching the way Trent’s mouth opened and closed. She knew he’d been hoping to spend the afternoon with Emily himself but he could hardly invite himself along to ‘shopping with the girls’.

Neither could Mark. However, the project manager did not seem as put out by this – merely mildly amused. She didn’t know whether to feel relief or pique that he didn’t care whether he spent the afternoon with her or not.

Trent finally cleared his throat. ‘Well, we should at least celebrate this win, tonight. All of us, together. For dinner.’

Charlotte glanced at Mark, who was silent. After her snub the night before it was clear he wasn’t going to second the invitation but merely wait and see the outcome. She supposed there was no point in being churlish, especially considering he had been so kind financially. She nodded her head. ‘All right, dinner tonight in our hotel’s restaurant. Seven pm.’

‘Agreed,’ Emily added.

‘I’ll be there,’ Mark murmured.

So they split up and she and Emily jumped on a ferry to see Brisbane. It was actually a very enjoyable few hours exploring this river city. They shopped, they had coffee, they walked along the south-bank foreshore, enjoying the parklands and the artificial lagoon. It was a gorgeous day, warm and bright, and she felt so much lighter. The angst of the week before was gone. Everything was how it should be. Except for one thing.

Mark.

‘You’ve gone awfully quiet,’ said Emily as they waited at the ferry station to catch their ride home. ‘What are you thinking about? Or should I say, who are you thinking about?’

Charlotte sighed. ‘Is it that obvious?’

‘Actually, not until recently.’ Emily looked thoughtful. ‘Not until you told me he was coming with us and that he’d paid for everything. But even then I wasn’t one hundred per cent sure. He’s not very . . .’ She trailed off.

‘No, it’s okay, you can say it.’ Charlotte’s lips turned up wryly.

‘Affectionate,’ Emily frowned. ‘To be honest, he’s actually rather cold.’

‘Like a freezer,’ Charlotte chuckled. ‘But you’re wrong. We’re not together. We’re just . . .’ She groaned. ‘I don’t know what we are.’ She decided it was best to change the subject. ‘What about you and Trent? You seemed to be arguing when I came out of the courtroom today.’

‘I had to reject his proposal again and he didn’t take it too well the second time either.’ She bit her lip. ‘The problem is, he thinks he hasn’t had enough time to persuade me, and that I might still change my mind. Why is it that all men think that women never say what they mean?’

Charlotte rolled her eyes in empathy. ‘I have no idea.’ But speaking of Trent had put her in mind of something. ‘Say, did he give you that letter I found the other day? I hope it wasn’t urgent.’

‘What letter?’

‘I found a letter with my mother’s things addressed to you. I gave it to Trent to pass on.’

‘He didn’t give me anything.’

‘Well, maybe ask him about it when we get back to the hotel,’ Charlotte suggested.

Emily nodded. ‘Sure, I will.’

Charlotte dressed carefully that evening in a conservative black cocktail dress that she hadn’t taken out of her closet in years, a light but fresh application of make-up and her auburn hair styled in a loose twist. She never wore dresses any more. Jeans and T-shirts were her staple. But she’d thrown it into her suitcase at the last minute on impulse. They were going to the city. No point in being underdressed if they went out. She was pleased now that she’d brought it with her. Even more pleased when she noticed the way Mark’s eyes followed her entrance from across the restaurant without breaking contact once.

He stood up when she reached their table. ‘Hello, Charlotte.’

There was no kiss on the cheek. He didn’t even take her hand. He just stood there drinking her in like she was the last sip of water on a desert island.

She cleared her throat and averted her eyes from the intensity of his gaze. ‘Er, hi, Mark.’ She pulled out her chair and quickly sat down.

‘How was your afternoon?’ he asked innocuously.

‘Fine,’ she said, equally so, and then bit her lip at the silence that ensued. ‘Listen,’ she said finally, ‘I want to thank you for everything you’ve done for me this last week. I couldn’t have got through it without you.’

He nodded. ‘I know.’

She blinked at his short response and tried again. ‘You’ve been so supportive, paying for everything, organising everything, and getting Trent to represent me. You really didn’t need to do all that.’

‘I know.’

Her lips pulled into a thin line at his averted eyes. ‘I will pay you back, by the way. Every cent. We’ll work out a payment plan or something. What do you think?’

‘No rush.’ He took a sip of water.

She gritted her teeth. Was there no entry to the rock-solid cave Mark had encased himself in?

For a while they simply sat there, looking at their menus, drinking water and making small talk that flowed as easily as sludge. Time passed slowly. First fifteen minutes, then half an hour while they waited for the other two to show up. At last, Charlotte’s phone buzzed as a message came through.

She dived into her handbag and pulled it out. The message was from Emily.

Sorry, I’m not going to be able to make it tonight and I doubt Trent’s coming either. Something has come up – will call you later.

‘Damn.’ She clicked the phone off and looked up at Mark’s raised eyebrows.

‘Bad news?’ he inquired.

‘Apparently,’ she smiled sweetly, ‘you’ll be able to cross something else off that list of yours.’ She tilted her head, a challenge in her eyes. ‘Looks like we’re on a date.’

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