A Calculating Heart by Caro Fraser Page B

It didn’t do to have any animosity in the clerks’ room, otherwise things couldn’t run smoothly. He went over to Felicity’s desk.
    ‘Can we have a word?’ Felicity glanced up at him and nodded moodily. ‘Let’s go and get a coffee,’ said Henry, and she got up and followed him out to the privacy of the small kitchen.
    ‘Now,’ said Henry, when he had poured them both some coffee, ‘I don’t want to know the ins-and-outs of whatever was going on with you and Peter Weir—’ Fliss made a face and sipped her coffee, ‘—but I think we need to sort the present situation out. I can’t have you going around not talking to him.’
    ‘What d’you expect me to do? How can I behave decently towards someone who did what he did? I’d neverhave gone near him if I’d known he was married – and with kids. Bastard.’
    ‘You didn’t know?’
    ‘Course I didn’t. I’m not some kind of home wrecker.’ Felicity’s eyes grew moist. Henry’s ever-tender heart tipped a little. ‘I wish you’d told me you were thinking of taking him on,’ added Felicity. ‘It might have spared us a lot of trouble.’
    Henry was about to say something suitably pompous about it being the head clerk’s place to make decisions without reference to junior clerks, but he thought better of it. He sighed. ‘Perhaps. I’m sorry. He seemed a logical choice. He knows this new lot, and he’s very able.’
    ‘Oh, yeah. Sure.’
    ‘Look, I don’t want bad feeling in the clerks’ room. I can do without that. We all can. I’m asking you to make an effort to be polite to him. Can you do that?’
    Felicity shrugged. ‘Dunno. For as long as I have to, I suppose.’
    ‘What does that mean?’ Henry felt a hollow sense of apprehension. He had often consoled himself with the thought that, even if his love for Felicity was doomed to remain forever unrequited, at least he got to see her every day. If she were to go, his life would become barren, meaningless.
    ‘Henry, I don’t think I can stand having to see his smarmy face every day. I might start looking round for another job.’
    In that moment, as in so many moments, Henry wished he could take his courage in his hands and tell her how he felt, let a torrent of true and passionate feeling pour forth. But of course he wouldn’t. She already knew, anyway – hecould see it in her eyes. It wouldn’t change the situation. Probably make her more likely to leave, if anything.
    ‘Well, I hope it won’t come to that. I value you. Very much.’
    Felicity looked at Henry’s sad eyes. God, he was a nice bloke. Nicest she knew. She hated to see him look so miserable. ‘Don’t worry.’ She laid a light hand on his shoulder and gave his cheek a quick peck. ‘I’ll try to be civil to the bastard in the meantime.’ She picked up her coffee and went back to the clerks’ room.

    Later that afternoon, most of the inhabitants of 5 Caper Court drifted in to Inner Temple Common Room for afternoon tea. It was a quaint and useful ritual, a way of relaxing and chatting with people with whom one might normally exchange only the briefest of greetings, in spite of sharing the same chambers.
    Marcus, who had spent the day trying to arrange his new room to his exacting tastes and prepare for a three-week hearing corning up the following Monday, looked in on Ann Halliday en route to tea. She was still in a muddle of books and boxes, jacket on the back of her chair, papers spread out before her. Marcus noticed that so far she hadn’t made any attempt to brighten the room up with personal belongings, such as pictures or plants.
    ‘How’s it going?’ he asked.
    She looked up and sighed. ‘I haven’t had a minute to sort things out. Peter’s landed me with a new joint-venture case. They want the opinion first thing tomorrow.’
    ‘Don’t tell me you’re too busy to come to tea. Wouldn’t look good on our first day. Got a duty to be sociable.’
    ‘I suppose fifteen minutes won’t make any odds.