hate doing those things, I always have to do it."
He smiled. «Since you’re going to sleep and I have to go out, I’ll make the effort to do it."
"Are you going out with Ethan?"
"As usual. But don't worry, we won't be too late tonight."
John broke the embrace, gave her a light kiss on the temple and left the room.
Loreley slid under the covers, but struggled to get to sleep. For the first time, she felt happy that Johnny was going out without her in the evening. She hadn’t recovered from what had happened at Hans's wedding yet, and now she had a bigger problem. Neither of them had considered bringing a child into the world, not now.
***
Two days went by, and Loreley had not yet decided to let John know that he was about to become a father for the second time. She wanted to keep that secret to herself, although in a glimmer of rationality she vowed she would tell him as soon as possible, in the hope that he would not react negatively.
It was unbelievable that she could get pregnant despite taking the necessary precautions. When she was at home it was all she could think about; and it was only when she was in the office that she could get her mind off it. Work kept her busy and gave her a little respite.
That Wednesday morning she was in a courtroom with her client, Peter Wallace.
Loreley had seen defendants nervous, repentant, worried, frightened, or even pleased with themselves, but she had never seen such a detached expression on the face of any of them. For this client it was as if what was happening around him did not concern him at all. He sat there next to her, his eyes staring into space, with his hands clasped in a pose which would have been more suitable inside a church than a courtroom.
Loreley had met Judge Henry Palmer during her internship and had appreciated him for his humanity, which was not discernible now, however. His eyes were half-hidden by the drooping upper eyelids and the thin lips were tightly closed, as usual. She rarely saw him smile during a hearing. At a rough guess, he must have put on at least ten pounds since the last time she had seen him, and his belly was now pressing against the edge of the bench. Even the toga couldn't disguise it.
The judge adjusted his spectacles on his nose before asking her the question she expected. "How does your client plead?" His voice rang out loudly, but a little hoarse, as if he had just recovered from a sore throat.
She turned to Peter Wallace, who did not blink an eye. The only thing that let her know that he was alive was a barely perceptible twitch of his well-shaped jaw. "Innocent, Your Honour. My client has no previous record, he has always led a quiet life, and the crime of which he is accused is yet to be proven. The evidence against him is based solely on an unreliable statement. I ask for him to be released on bail."
"Prosecutor... " said the judge, inviting him to speak.
"The defendant has no priors, that’s true, but as has already been pointed out, he has an aggressive nature, and there is always a first time for any act. Furthermore, he could leave the State, his family has the means to help him. I ask that the defence's request be rejected.”
After careful consideration, the judge decided: "Bail is denied."
The sharp blow of the gavel ended the hearing
Her client turned to her then, his green eyes devoid of light.
"I'm sorry."
"It wasn't me. I know that no one believes me; not even you, counselor."
There was no humility in his tone nor self-pity, but no arrogance either. She saw him push a small lock of curly, Titian red hair from his eyes.
"Goodbye, Counselor Lehmann," he dismissed her, a moment before the guards arrived to escort him out of the courtroom.
She walked away quickly as another defendant and his defence attorney entered and were about to take their positions.
When she arrived home, Loreley threw herself on the sofa without even taking off her shoes. She had worked like she did every other day, but she felt more tired than usual. Even the scent of pot-pourri that permeated the air seemed stronger than usual. She turned up her nose.
When John returned shortly after, she raised a hand to greet him from the sofa, too comfortable to stand up and go to meet him.
"Are you all right?" he asked, approaching her. "You haven't even changed."
"I'm tired lately, you know that."
He took off his jacket, threw it on the armrest of the sofa, and after taking off her shoes sat down next to her. "Why don't you take a break, then?"
"I can't."
Johnny frowned. "Because of the case you're dealing with?"
"Yes, of course."
"Taking a weekend off won't change anything for your client, but it can only do you good."
"I don't know if it's the right moment..."
"Not even if I asked you to come to Paris with me this weekend?"
Loreley stared. "You never ask me to come with you when you go away for work."
"I know you love Paris and it’s quite a while since you were there. I can see you’re really worn out and I don't like it."
"Oh, well, I could give it some thought," she said as she pushed his hair back from his forehead with a small caress.
John smiled at her. "Just some thought?"
Loreley quickly reflected. She would have to talk to him, sooner or later, and couldn't let any more time go by or it would make the situation worse. Maybe Paris was the right occasion and the right place for that kind of revelation.
"Okay, that's fine. The answer is yes, I’ll come with you."
"We leave on Friday morning, at dawn. And not in a manner of speaking. So have a word with your boss and ask him give you some time off until Monday. Paris is not just around the corner."
It would be a real struggle to get Kilmer to agree to her taking time off.
Well, she didn't give a damn, she had every right to it!
***
Paris! The quintessential city of love and age-old haven for artists of all kinds, Loreley was reading in the hotel brochure.
She put it back on the ivory-colored bedside table, wondering whether that city would help her and John to bolster their feelings for each other. She hoped so with all her might.
Going to the French doors, she opened them wide and went out onto the small balcony with the wrought-iron balustrade. Their room was on the fourth floor of a pretty Art Nouveau hotel in the centre of town, along the boulevard that led to Rue de Rivoli, the street bordering the Louvre museum.
The sun had set hours ago, but the air was not as cold and humid as she imagined it might be at that time of year. She looked at the tree-lined square below, with several benches and a marble fountain. There was a line of rental bicycles stretching along the pavement, and a little further away she could see the street, quiet at that hour, with its many shops.
As soon as they had stepped into the room, Johnny had thrown himself on the bed to recover from the fatigue of the flight. She had managed to sleep on the plane and, apart from a little nausea, she felt well and eager to do some sightseeing around the city.
"Come back inside, you're letting cold air in," Johnny grumbled, pulling the blanket up to his chin.
Loreley sighed. There was just no hope that he could see that place through the same eyes she did, she thought, closing the shutters. In the time it took her to pull their clothes out of the suitcase and arrange them in the small closet, Johnny had already fallen asleep. So she picked up the book she had brought along, lay down on the bed, and began to read.
After fifteen minutes she closed it snorting. Okay! He could go on sleeping, but