‘It’s a timely solution, Olivia. This is a difficult subject for me to discuss, but the firm’s income has tumbled considerably over the last year or so. All this ruddy uncertainty has bitten us all hard. To be honest, a 50 per cent reduction in your drawings would ease the burden on our Office Account expenditure.’
Olivia didn’t know what she had expected Henry to say, but it wasn’t that. Trepidation swiftly morphed into full-blown panic – if she’d thought her discussion with Henry about her divorce was going to be difficult, this conversation had climbed to a whole new level and she needed to fight her corner.
‘Henry, I realise the way I conduct my cases means there are fewer contested trials, and therefore there are not as many lucrative invoices at the end. But even so, the effects of a countrywide economic downturn can’t be laid at my office door!’
‘Of course not, and I wasn’t implying that, far from it. I’m actually very troubled by the breakdown of your marriage, Olivia, and the fact that your intensive work ethic may have in some way contributed to the sad state of affairs. No more ideal a couple have I come across than you and Nathan, and Jean agrees with me. You are so right for one another. If I’d been a betting man, I would have placed a month’s salary on you and Nathan being in the lucky half of the UK marriages that don’t end in divorce.’
‘Me neither, Henry, but it’s happened, and I have to deal with it.’
A surge of sorrow spread through Olivia’s chest when she saw the genuine sadness reflected in Henry’s eyes, but she also saw a steely determination to deliver his next, much more personal bulletin of truth and she wondered what he would think if she jumped out of her seat and ran back to her office.
‘I’m sorry, Ms Hamilton, that cool, calm exterior doesn’t fool me. I know you’re devastated by this turn of events, and who wouldn’t be? You crouch in that chair like a starved waif, with sunken eyes and a blanched complexion, not a highly skilled, respected professional. The law is a demanding mistress; many a lawyer has become addicted to the daily buzz delivered by the joust of advocacy, sucked into the euphoria of winning cases, obsessed with that spurt of adrenaline delivered to their veins as they spar with the likes of Ralph Carlton. They’re addicted to arguing the toss with their equally eloquent opponents, then adjourning to the pub to drink themselves delirious in order to douse their rampant stress levels.’
Olivia opened her mouth to argue, to tell Henry he was wrong, but, unusually, words failed her and she was relieved when the next part of his soliloquy was more softly delivered.
‘I can’t force you to invoke the sabbatical clause in our partnership agreement, but I fully intend to. I hereby give you notice that from the first of January next year, Jean and I will set sail from Southampton bound for Gibraltar; we will send regular postcards for the office noticeboard to remind everyone that there’s a great big world out there waiting to be explored! I truly hope that you’ll grasp this opportunity to take stock, Olivia, to answer some of life’s questions before you celebrate your fortieth birthday in December, so you must act now! If you agree to begin your sabbatical on the first of February, ten months—’
‘Ten months!’
‘Ten months would bring you back into the Edwards & Co fold on the first of December – two weeks before your milestone celebration – hopefully with a healthier, more balanced view of the world, with lessons learned and a readiness to move forward.’
‘No way, I can’t do it, Henry! What on earth will I do for ten months?’
The mere thought of spending all that time either holed up in her empty flat, alone, untangling her life from Nathan’s whilst he was in Singapore, or meandering aimlessly between her parents in Yorkshire and Hollie’s parents down in Cornwall sent shivers of dread through her body. Tears smarted at her eyes, but she gritted her teeth because Henry was continuing to press his case.
‘Travel. Reconnect with those neglected friends. Write your autobiography. Take up ballroom dancing with Rachel. Make a start on that “bucket list” you and Katrina are always talking about. Just take some time out to refocus on you.’
‘Thanks, Henry, and here was I thinking I was indispensable!’
Olivia sat at her desk, staring out of the window as the last rays of daylight filtered through the gathering clouds. The door to her office was closed; a rare phenomenon caused by Miles’s newly acquired pastime of prowling the corridors on the hunt for stray titbits of gossip as his usual sources of information – Katrina and Geraldine, his long-suffering PA – had remained tight-lipped over Olivia’s future plans.
Over the last three weeks, she had felt Nathan’s absence from their apartment ever more acutely, despite the fact that even before he’d left for Singapore, they’d been the proverbial ships that pass in the night for months. Both Katrina and Geraldine had been sympathetic to her situation, but singleton Geraldine’s insight into the current dating scene had not been as helpful as she had imagined, and Miles’s contribution had been even less supportive – spending every day leading up to her impending departure smirking at the absurdity of her situation.
The prolific divorce lawyer had become one of the statistics! Hilarious!
The irony had not escaped her either, even in her pain-infused state, and she was desperate to unload a smidgeon of her distress into the ears of her oldest friend, and to receive her calm, level-headed advice and support.
‘But Rachel, seriously, I can’t just wallow around watching the Food Channel for the next ten months. Not only will I pile on the weight, but I’ll go stir crazy with boredom or self-analysis – and don’t you dare suggest I go on a world cruise like Henry did!’
A friend of both hers and Nathan’s, Rachel Denton had been an integral part of their close-knit gang at Durham University. But, whilst she and Nathan had marched off to put the legal principles they’d learned into practice, Rachel had continued the academic life of research, publishing papers, writing articles for specialist journals, as well as inspiring the next influx of eager, fresh-faced students. Then, last summer, her professional dream had materialised in the guise of a professorship, and she was currently engrossed in a project analysing the causes of marital breakdown in the twenty-first century, a subject she was passionate about, apart from the Dean’s refusal to allow her the funds to engage the services of a research assistant.
‘Well, the answer to your conundrum is to not sit around and stew at home. Why don’t you get the apartment valued, put it on the market, then jet off on a well-deserved holiday? I hear the Maldives are glorious at this time of year!’
Olivia smiled as she imagined Rachel ensconced in her cluttered study, flicking the end of her biro at her dangling earrings. Her friend was famous amongst her students for her vast array of hand-made earrings and Olivia had never known her to wear the same pair twice. She knew Rachel adored her life as an academic despite the tongue-in-cheek accusations of Anne, her now-frail mother, who called her daughter a ‘nosy parker’. Rachel, on the other hand, categorised her craving for digging into the personal lives of strangers as ‘an essential personality trait for all academics’. Whatever the label, Anne had been so proud when her only child had become the first girl in the family to attend university and achieve a first to boot.
Apart from her extensive academic duties, a close second in Rachel’s hit parade of obsessions – and on which subject she could wax lyrical until Olivia pleaded for mercy – was ballroom dancing. She was fond of reminding her friends, acquaintances and anyone else who would listen, that her passion for the Tango, Waltz and Cha-cha-cha pre-dated the current onslaught of all things Strictly, and she was the proud owner of a wardrobe full of sequin and gem-encrusted costumes that would