MODERN TRIALS
Posted in MODERN TRIALS on August 18th, 2009 by CY – 1 Comment
Here is another extract from my novel, Modern Trials. There is an unpleasant tension in the London law firm. Oh boy, there’s going to be trouble…
Gabriel noticed the sheen on Rutter’s forehead. He was convinced that the old man had been persuing some warped gratification in his misjudged solitude. He had seen Rutter rooting through the girl’s desks before. Everyone had, but nothing was ever said. Gabriel spoke to Rutter’s profile because he was looking away, as though checking Ramsdale’s work zone. “I’m sorry Julian. I just wanted an early start today.”
“Apology accepted boy,” said Rutter smoothing his Club tie, “it’s actually good to see the troops in with the old generals. 5-54,” he said checking his wrist, “above and beyond the call of duty, what?”
Suspicion damned the faint praise. “It’s no duty as you put it. Got to hit those targets. And like I said, if there’s anything I can do to help you.”
Rutter’s gaze was everywhere except on Gabriel whilst he fiddled with the clip of his suspenders. “Yes, no need. Everything’s well controlled. Anyway,” he said drawing a circle in the air, “I’ve enjoyed this chat. Perhaps you can tell Margaret I need to see her when she arrives. As soon as. I’ll be in Flight’s room, but I’m not to be disturbed. Only by Margaret. Need to see her. Understand?” The final words were obscured by stamping feet disappearing down the long corridor.
By the time Alice dropped her handbag under her desk Annie was on her third tissue.
“Oh dear Annie, what is it now?” she said to the broken body behind the partition.
“Nothing much,” she sniffed as Alice unhooked her ipod.
“Doesn’t sound like it,” said Alice, walking round to see her workmate’s puffy face. “Oh Annie, have you been crying again? It can’t be so bad surely. Tell me, what is it?”
“Julian’s had me in his room and, goodness Alice, he was out of control again, like before. He yelled for fifteen minutes. It was terrifying. Said I was late, that my clothes were from Oxfam, that I was failing to keep up with him, to support him. He screwed my typing into a ball and threw it at me. He’s given me all yesterday’s telephone messages back and told me to deal with them. I’ve no idea who half of these people are. Mostly Flight’s cases. I’ll only mess it up, they’re all so complicated. He’s said that I can’t leave until they’re all sorted. I’m only a secretary Alice, what can I do?”
“I tell you exactly what we do. I go in there and tell him what he can do with his messages. This is crazy,” said Alice, scooping the stack of yellow attendance notes off Annie’s table. “He can deal with them, for once. Or I’ll give them to Gabriel. He’ll get through them in no time.” She forced a smile, worrying that Annie was close to another breakdown, and despite her own fear of Julian. “And if I can’t fix it then I’ll have a word with Cornelius. We can’t have this.”
“Oh please, I don’t want more trouble. I need this job. Derek’s business. They don’t need grocers in Acton with the new superstore. With our mortgage we need every penny.”
“Don’t worry about your job,” said Alice bravely, approaching Rutter’s office. “You nip to the ladies and dry your eyes. By the time you’re back this will be sorted I promise. And then I’ll make us a fresh pot of coffee.”
“Okay,” said Annie cautiously, “but he’s camped in there.”
Alice entered Flight’s forbidding cell without knocking, and gagged on the stench. Rutter was stretched out on the sofa; a steaming Country Life held where his head should have been.
“Good morning Julian, may I have a quick word?”
Rutter was stone. She felt like a trespasser and wondered if he was even awake. She stole herself to repeat the salutation, questioning her decision to go out on a limb, when the magazine slowly descended, gradually revealing a weary Rutter. The fat cigar glowed like an afterburner as he stared into middle space.
Still silent, Rutter rose and, cigar in mouth, approached her. Alice backpedalled until her heel snagged a pile of files, and she stumbled. Back to the wall, she felt the inconvenient heat of a blush. Rutter’s pursuit stopped within inches of her body. Alice’s lunatic bravado evaporated, leaving a timid lady, dwarfed by the powerful law man.
“How old are you my dear?” asked Rutter, emitting hot smoke like an old power station.
“I’m, er, 25, er no 26, just…” said Alice, wrong footed by the intimate interrogation.
“Hmmm,” said Rutter thoughtfully, “my dear, I can still remember being 25, or even 26. A young lawyer. Corporate man climbing the ladder like all young lawyers strive to do.” He paused as ash fell to the carpet, moved closer still, and in a deep slow voice purred, “But back then my dear, despite my status and talent, I would never have had the arrogance, the damned insolence, to set foot into a partner’s office without first knocking and waiting to be summoned.”
What in heaven’s name am I into here, wondered Alice. She felt like the smallest girl in the biggest trouble. “I’m so sorry Julian, I didn’t mean to interrupt you. It’s just that I’ve been given these. They need dealing with urgently otherwise Flight’s going to have no clients left to come back to. Can we divide them out? I think Gabriel has some capacity. I’d be happy to have a word with him if you like.”
Rutter stiffened at the shaky offering of yellow paper. “Oh goodness,” he said harshly, “why don’t you leave them all with me. It isn’t as though I’m up to my neck with pressure already. I must say madam, it’s a long time since anyone has delegated work to me. And, unless my memory fails, I do believe that this is the first time that a secretary, and one of tender but uncertain years at that, has burst in to give me a stack of calls to make.”
“But I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just that…”
“Oh don’t worry my dear. I’m actually rather impressed. Now let me take these nasty notes from you so that I can spend my morning on the phone.” Rutter teased the paper from Alice’s weak grip. “Now trot on, I’ve got work,” he said without moving so that Alice had to squeeze past him.
She looked back at the old man, who remained stationary, as she hurried out on the brink of tears.
She was met in the corridor by a shinier, smilier Annie. Her mouth moved but Alice could not make out whether she was being thanked or asked how it went. Time, probably seconds, passed by before a click and a woosh and a Rutter emerged.
“Annie!” he roared. “Get in here. Now!”
What follows is an extract from the novel MODERN TRIALS.
“Mr Goldman will see you now.”