Page 39 of Dissection of a Murder
“Need a hand with anything, Leila?” she shouts over to me, as I throw everything down before glancing at the clock. It’s 9:52 a.m. The fair opens in eight minutes.
“No, thank you,” I yell back, hoping I don’t sound unhinged.
As I rush about, getting everything ready, I can’t help but feel an internal anger over the fact I’ve been asked to do this at all. Julian would never be asked to do it, nor would any of the men in chambers. They’re always asked to undertake the “important” jobs, sitting on the finance or accommodation committee; the places where bigdecisions are made. The women in chambers are always on things like the marketing committee—not that there’s anything wrong with marketing, but it’s seen as less important.
Just like this fair. I look around the room and it’s full of women. The men are all at court doing Very Important Cases. They aren’t lining up pens and handing out swizzle sticks.
As the clock hits 10 a.m., students start pouring in through the doors. Wide-eyed law students, eager to learn and impress, just as I was at their age. I smile and attempt to look welcoming. None of them understands what this job really entails. It’s impossible to know until you start. Some will make it, most won’t. But one thing is for certain: the reality of this profession is not the same as the expectation.
It fills up quickly. A few of the students recognize me fromChats at the Barand take selfies. I gush about chambers and the sweets go down well. Mercifully, the time goes quickly.
Just after 11:30 a.m., I’m starting to wish I’d brought a chair to sit on, when a takeaway cup appears in front of my face.
“Thought you could use one of these,” Sienna says, holding it out to me. Her hair is tied up in a bouncy ponytail. She wears a tight, black pencil skirt and pink shirt with obscenely high black heels. Sienna is the kind of woman you see when you’re a teenager and want to be when you’re “old” (i.e., in your thirties).
“Oh, you didn’t need to do that…”
“It’s OK! These things can be tedious. Important to stay refueled. Latte all right?”
“Erm, yes, thank you,” I say, taking a sip. I don’t face her. I continue to look around the large room, which is packed full of students. The sound of chattering is amplified to the point where it’s too loud to speak at a normal volume.
“You know, you don’t have to be so wary of me,” she says, in anattempt to get me to turn around. “I mean, I understand why you might be, but it’s unnecessary.”
“It’s just a bit weird, if I’m being honest,” I say, finally looking at her.
“Because of Julian?”
“Yes, obviously.”
“That was a very long time ago, Leila…”
“I just don’t understand why you’re being like this.”
“Like what?”
“Just…all friendly.”
“I see. Is this because I’m the only solicitor to say openly that most barristers are up their own arses?” she remarks playfully.
I don’t say anything. If she wants something from me, she’ll have to spell it out.
“OK,” she says, as if I’ve caught her out. “I just thought you might need a friend. I mean, we’re not so dissimilar, you and me. We’re both women from working-class backgrounds and, hell, it’s hard being in this profession with that behind you.”
I frown at her. I’ve seen Sienna around court for years and not once has she tried to be chummy with me, so why now? Why all of a sudden?
“Where is this coming from, Sienna?” I ask her.
She thinks for a few moments, turning away before answering.
“Being married to Julian and then going up against him in court, inthismurder…that’s challenging. I’m here if you need anything.”
I study her as she talks. She chooses her words carefully, like any lawyer would. If Julian knew she was saying this, he’d be furious.
“Thank you, but I’ll be fine.”
She smiles; she knows I’m not going to take her up on the offer.
“Of course! Well, you know where I am. Good to see you.”
