it inscribed over the entrance to Morrison Kemp, Laura thought. But she had to give Mrs Hakimi some explanation. Otherwise it was what it was – negligence – and Marcus Morrison would not tolerate that.
‘I suppose I may have mentioned it to her,’ Sarah said abruptly, ‘when the order was first granted, you know, sort of in passing.’
‘In passing?’
‘All right. I’m sure I told her. I remember now. I said it to her quite clearly, don’t forget you have to tell me if you need this renewed. OK? Is that OK, Laura?’
It wasn’t OK. Not at all. Sarah was lying and Laura knew she was lying, and in any case, it had to be in writing.
Without warning, the door to the office opened and Morrison appeared. He glided across to Laura’s desk and stood beside it, polished shoes neatly together. He had no intention of sitting down, it was easier to intimidate from above. He looked at them seated in front of him and frowned.
Morrison always made Laura uncomfortable, even at the best of times. She felt like he was constantly judging her and finding her wanting, that he thought she was rather lightweight. She tried hard to suppress the feeling because she suspected it was what he wanted her to feel and that his condescending manner was designed to get that very result. She had no reason to feel that way; she’d done a lot more in her career than Morrison ever had, but knowing that didn’t seem to make any difference. Worst of all, she sometimes tried to impress him and that made her furious with herself.
Laura knew she looked younger than her thirty-four years. She had large, hazel eyes and smooth, youthful skin. To give herself gravitas, she wore her glossy black hair tied back in a utilitarian knot, and on occasion – and this was just such an occasion – she put on a pair of heavy spectacles she didn’t really need. Joe teased her about it and he was right to do so because it was pathetic, really it was, and what good did it do anyway? Whenever she met Morrison she still felt like an errant schoolgirl instead of the competent, experienced solicitor that she was.
Morrison saw the Hakimi file on her desk, pulled it casually towards him and tapped it lightly with his index finger. His small, calculating eyes fixed on her like a pair of pincers.
‘We have a problem,’ he hissed, ‘why wasn’t I told?’
There was something chilling about him, Laura thought. A quiet malevolence. She would have felt a whole lot happier if he’d shouted.
‘You mean Mrs Hakimi?’
‘I mean Mrs Hakimi. Tell me.’
His voice was almost a whisper, his eyebrows raised in interrogation. The little steel-grey eyes glinted behind his spectacles.
He must have known the story anyway, at least some of it, otherwise he wouldn’t be here. But she guessed he wanted to hear her tell it, wanted to put her on the spot.
She began, wondering how she was going to avoid dropping Sarah in it without appearing evasive and obstructive. She knew how ruthless Morrison was and she didn’t want to fall out with him. He was powerful, well connected and with a word or two, here and there, he could blight her career for ever.
She came to the tricky bit. Out of the corner of her eye she caught sight of that pleading look on Sarah’s face.
‘ … so you see the order wasn’t renewed because we were never told to renew it.’
‘And Mrs Hakimi knew she had to tell us, did she?’
Laura squirmed. ‘I believe so,’ she said, wishing immediately that she hadn’t used the phrase. It was what lawyers always said when they wanted to avoid a question.
‘You believe so. I think you’d better know so.’
‘Yes. So do I,’ she said, stupidly.
Morrison’s long, angular face leaned towards her. He reminded her of a bird of prey; a hawk, maybe, or more likely, a vulture.
‘You see I’ve had her brother on the phone and he claims that no one ever warned his sister that she had to notify us.’
Laura was silent. She hoped Sarah might help her out, but Sarah had been struck dumb.
‘You won’t be surprised to hear that he was extremely angry. Of course, I know we’d never be stupid enough to forget to warn her so I was able to inform him quite firmly that his sister must be mistaken.’ Morrison paused then very softly said, ‘I presume we have it in writing.’
Laura bit her lip and said, ‘Apparently it was more a sort of verbal warning.’
For the first time, Morrison addressed Sarah.
‘Would you mind leaving us for a moment.’
Sarah hesitated, torn between relief at the chance to escape Morrison’s grilling and fear about what might be said about her when she’d gone. He waited, silent, glaring at her, until she got up and left the room.
‘I’m sorry, Laura, you misunderstand,’ he said when they were alone. ‘That wasn’t a question. I wasn’t asking you if we had it in writing, I was telling you we had it in writing. Have I made myself clear?’
She felt alarm but not much surprise. He expected her to tell Mrs Hakimi that she’d been sent a letter setting out her responsibilities at the time the court order was first granted; he expected her, if necessary, to forge a copy of such a document and he expected her to say to Mrs Hakimi that what had happened was nobody’s fault but her own.
‘Yes, perfectly clear.’
‘Good.’ He waited a moment then said carelessly, ‘I want you to fire Sarah asap.’
This time Laura was shocked. ‘I can’t do that, Marcus,’ she protested. ‘I mean, why would I?’
‘Come on, we both know the answer to that. She is responsible for this fiasco. You’re a senior lawyer here and you know what’s happened, so there we are – get rid of her. This afternoon, I suggest.’
‘But that’s just not fair,’ she burst out. ‘You must see that, after all—’
The look on his face stopped her mid-sentence. More calmly she said, ‘Surely a written warning would be enough. She’s been going through a difficult time in her personal life and—’
‘Spare me the violins, please,’ Morrison interrupted, his mouth a thin line under his hawk nose.
‘It seems very harsh to fire her,’ Laura persisted. ‘Can’t we at least wait and see if this thing can be sorted out?’
‘You disappoint me, Laura. Seriously disappoint me. I thought you were ambitious, wanted to get on, wanted a partnership here. Isn’t that so?’
‘Yes, of course I do. Absolutely, it’s just that … ’
‘Then fire her. It’s not nice, I know, but it has to be done. She’s made a bad mistake, the sort of thing that could mean a large and embarrassing negligence claim if we don’t, ah, sort it out. You see that, don’t you?
‘Yes.’
‘You’ll have to toughen up a bit if you want to succeed in this firm.’
The schoolgirl had been suitably chastised. He started to move away then stopped.
‘Hurt yourself, have you?’ He was staring at the cut on her eyebrow. She’d hoped the thick spectacles would hide it but very little got past Morrison.
‘Oh, that.’ She attempted a laugh. ‘Just an accident.’
‘I hope it’s not too painful,’ he hissed.
Her body tensed. For one horrible moment she thought he might reach out and put his arm around her shoulders. But he didn’t. He wasn’t that sort of person. She relaxed – just a little.
Ten minutes later the phone on her desk rang. Mrs Hakimi, and her brother, had arrived in reception.