An Immoral Code Read Free

a word, but the ominous tilt of that formidable bust and the set of those pursed lips told him that he had better search his own room thoroughly another time before setting Felicity off to scour the building for his files. Although she had started as a lowly typist at 5 Caper Court a year ago, Felicity possessed all the streetwise talents necessary for a good barrister’s clerk. Henry, the chief clerk, had recognised this and made her his protégée a few months ago. Felicity was determined that the members of chambers should appreciate her new status, and not carry on treating her like a complete dogsbody. Clerks generally received respect, and Felicity wanted some of it.
    ‘Thanks,’ muttered Anthony, his hauteur somewhat dented by this incident. Then he added, ‘Sorry,’ and shot a look of such charming apology from those great dark eyes of his that Felicity melted, as she usually did after getting into a temper with Anthony. Only inwardly, however, and only slightly. She still had plenty of work to do and not much of the morning left to do it in. Leaving Anthony’s room and turning to go downstairs, she bumped into Leo Davies returning from a conference with counsel in Hare Court, overcoat on and papers tucked beneath his arm. He smiled as he saw Felicity’s face.
    ‘Our young Mr Cross been giving you grief, then?’ he asked, adopting Felicity’s idiom, which was something he enjoyed doing, in a middle-aged way. He felt a sort of paternal responsibility for her, since he had got her the job here. She had been his wife’s secretary once, but had lost that job, through no fault of her own. He was glad Henry had made her a clerk, was pleased to see her doing well. He enjoyed, too, the way that her micro-skirts and generous expanse of cleavage enlivened the sombre atmosphere of chambers.
    She glanced at him, thinking, as she always did, that you could forget Anthony’s dark, pretty good looks, and give her Leo any day. His voice had a light Welsh lilt, which Felicity thought very sexy. And that chiselled face, the silver hair, the blue of his eyes, reminded her of Terence Stamp. She could die for Leo. ‘Don’t, Mr Davies,’ she sighed. ‘You’d think this Capstall case of his was the only one in the world.’
    ‘You are seeing an up-and-coming junior in the heady throes of his first really big case. It’s like a love affair. You have to make allowances.’ Leo fished in his pocket for the key to his room. ‘By the way, have we got a date for that Driscoll hearing yet?’
    ‘Yeah, we did. I can’t remember it off-hand, but it’s in the book. I’ll look it up.’
    ‘Thanks.’ She clattered off downstairs, and Leo, about to go up to his room on the next landing, paused, glancing at Anthony’s door. They hadn’t really had much to do with one another over the past few months. Just the odd snatch of conversation over tea, and whatever exchanges their work might necessitate. But apart from that, Anthony had been careful to avoid Leo unless there were other people around. Leo could understand it. There was no real resolution to that whole sorry mess, which had begun with Anthony falling in love with Rachel, and had ended with Leo marrying her. Surely by this time he must have grown to accept the situation – whateverhe imagined the situation to be. Leo wished that he could take him out, explain it to him over a drink. But he didn’t really understand it all himself. And Rachel? What did Rachel, alone in her big, beautiful house with her baby, think was going on?
    Leo hesitated, then raised his hand, knocked on Anthony’s door, and went in. Anthony was sitting at his desk, flicking through the file which Felicity had found for him. He had loosened his tie and unfastened his collar, and his dark hair was rumpled from where he had been running his fingers through it in concentration. As always, the sight of Anthony’s vulnerable, frowning face, caught unawares at his work, had a powerful effect on Leo. He