Lover in Law Read Free Page A

Sheen look positively saintly.
     
    ***
     
    I wait till Jon’s out of earshot, shut the door quietly, head back to my desk and sit down. I glance first at my new brief, my next case, tied up in a pretty pink bow, then at the phone. The phone wins out. I pick it up, dial Adam’s number.
     
    “Hey babes,” I say, relieved to hear his voice. “How’s it going?”
     
    “Hey. I was just about to call you.” 
     
    “Yeah?”
     
    He speaks quietly. “I’ve sorted out that thing for tomorrow.”
     
    “What thing?”
     
    He’s still quiet. “You know, that thing I needed to get sorted.”
     
    “What thing?”
     
    “You know, the thing for my boys,” he whispers.
     
    I haven’t a clue what he’s on about.
     
    “Which boys?”
     
    He works in an open-plan office and obviously can’t talk properly.
     
    “You know” (I can barely hear him now), “the boys that live downstairs. Checking the troops are up to scratch.”
     
    “Ahhhhhhhh,” I get his drift. “THOSE boys. You’re talking about your SPERM test!” 
     
    “Sssshhhhhh,” he whispers.
     
    “It’s ok,” I laugh. “I’m by myself.”
     
     “Anyway,” he continues, back to speaking normally, “I’m doing it first thing tomorrow at Hammersmith.”
     
    “Great,” I say. 
     
    We’d decided to start with Adam, seeing as his part is the easy one. It’s non-invasive and potentially pleasurable. A couple of minutes wanking and hey presto. He probably even gets a few porno mags thrown in.
     
    The pink bow starts to glare at me, so we wrap up the conversation and get back to our respective work. I untie the ribbon, flick through the pages and start reading about my next case.
     

Chapter 3
     
     
     
     
     
    Today is trial day. Let’s hope this morning’s excellent start is an omen. It’s eleven o’clock and here I am at home, drinking coffee with my sister, my identical twin. I went to court first thing, but was sent away, my case having been adjourned till the afternoon due to burst pipes. Kayla happened to call as I was leaving and because the court was Highgate Magistrates, not a million miles from where I live, I told her to meet me at home.  There’s something different about her, I note, as she gets herself comfortable in a cross-legged position on my lounge floor. I don’t know. It’s a certain je ne sais quoi , a glow.  She shuffles her bottom back, rests her hands on her knees, easing them open.  
     
    I, too, like to sit cross-legged, and plant myself opposite her on the floor, her mirror reflection. Looks are where our similarities end. In personality, we consider ourselves completely different. I’m more settled, whereas Kayla’s what I would call a floater. She quit college before the first year was out, trained as a masseuse, travelled on and off for a while. She's since qualified as a basic yoga and chi ball teacher, which is what she does to fund her way through her latest venture. She’s training to be a homeopath.
     
    “So, who was he?” I ask. She’s just come back from a week’s stint at a yoga ashram in India.
     
    She gawps. “What do you mean? How did you know?”
     
    We go through this rigmarole whenever I hit the nail on the head first time, and I’ve got a ninety-five per cent track record. We might ‘be’ very different, but I can still read her like a book, know her inside out. She’s more than just flesh and blood. She’s part of me.
     
    “You’ve got the glow.”
     
    “Oooooooooh,” she drawls lazily, linking her fingers, stretching her arms above her head. “HE was Vijay and IT was unbelievable.”
     
    I prepare myself for one of her amazing stories.
     
    “Pray tell.”  
     
    HE was no taller than five feet, a guru teacher, whose inspiration it transpired wasn’t just yoga, but the Kama Sutra and tantra.  She hadn’t thought of him in a sexual way all week, but on the last night, sitting next to him over chickpea curry, when he asked if she would like