A Real Job Read Free Page B

Debbie based on her voice from brief telephone conversations when he rang David’s flat in Ancoats, Manchester, he wondered how a privately educated ambassador’s daughter could end up with his brother raised in one of the poorest areas of Liverpool.
    Seeing him eye her up and down, Debbie said, ‘Well, am I what you imagined me to be?’
    Embarrassed at being caught staring at her, he said, ‘Oh no.’ Gathering his composure, he added, ‘I was thinking how you look too much of a lady to be with that brother of mine.’
    ‘I heard that,’ David said passing him a pint of bitter. ‘Here you are love,’ he said passing Debbie a glass of red wine. As Peter went to take a sip, his brother patted him forcefully on his back saying, ‘Get that down your neck.’
    Causing Peter to spill his beer, he began wiping his tie and turned to Debbie. ‘It’s certainly not his manners that you see in him.’
    Compared to David, she noticed Peter’s Liverpool accent had softened to a point of non-existence. That was not the only difference. Being non-identical twins, apart from having fair hair to Peter’s dark hair, David was a good five inches taller and Debbie reckoned he was around twenty pounds heavier than Peter. ‘He can be well mannered when he wants to be. He’s just showing off in front of that lot over there,’ Debbie said looking over towards the rest of David’s team, who were getting louder the more they drank.
    ‘How come he’s not unveiled you to the family yet?’ Peter asked, surreptitiously taking in every one of Debbie’s features knowing his mother and sister would want to know every minor detail.
    ‘Every time we plan to go over to Liverpool or come down here to meet you something’s cropped up at work, so it’s been really difficult to arrange anything. A job’s coming up where I’m assisting David’s team, so hopefully I’ll finally get to meet your parents. You work with Craig MacDonald’s brother, Alistair don’t you?’ Debbie asked changing the subject.
    ‘Yes. We share the same office at chambers, but not for much longer. I got some good news this morning, but I think I should tell our David first. Would you excuse me for a moment?’
    ‘Of course,’ Debbie said turning to David who was talking to one of his team, ‘David, Peter’s got something to tell you.’
    ‘Don’t tell me you’re pregnant,’ David said laughing, ‘Seriously, it’s good news I hope?’
    ‘I received a letter from the Lord Chancellor’s office this morning. I’m now Peter Hurst QC.’
    Hugging Peter with spontaneous delight, David said, ‘That’s great news. Have you told Mum and Dad yet?’
    ‘Yes, I rang them as soon as I heard. I’ve told our Siobhan as well. I tried to contact you, but you must have already been in court as your mobile went straight onto voicemail. Siobhan’s organising a do for me in Liverpool this weekend. Now your trial’s over, I’d love it if you and Debbie were there.’
    David looked over at George and shouted, ‘Boss, my little brother heard this morning he’s now Queen’s Council. The family are having a celebration this weekend. I take it you’ll let me have the weekend off?’
    Sitting in the far corner surrounded by David’s team, George was unable to get up. Raising his glass to Peter, due to the raucous chatter of the officers, he was forced to shout over, ‘Congratulations Peter, from what David tells me it’s well deserved.’ He looked at David and added, ‘Of course you can have the weekend off.’
    Forcing his way through the legs of his seated colleagues, spilling his drink as he did so, Steve Adams made his way to Peter and said, ‘That’s another cause for a celebration. I’ll get some shorts in. Davey, give us a hand.’ Ignoring the conventional protocol of waiting politely to be served, they forced their way through the predominantly dark suited clientele to the front of the bar. Dismissing the murmurs of mild protest, Steve took money