Page 52 of Faking It (and falling in love)

She had a lot to go through, and various cases to catch up on. It was a good day to get her head down and make a dent in her ‘to do’ list. For once, she didn’t have any clients to see, so she was able to concentrate without interruption.

It was mid-afternoon when Sienna knocked on her office door. Philippa sighed. It was time to get this over with. She gave what she hoped was a professional smile and ushered the paralegal in.

“Good afternoon, Sienna. How are you?” asked Philippa.

Sienna shuffled into the room and closed the door behind her. “I’m fine,” she started. “Well, not really fine. But I’m ok.” She shifted from foot to foot. “What I mean to say is how sorry I am about last night. I can see it was completely my fault and a misjudgement. I don’t want it to affect my position here, or my career.”

Philippa put up her hands to stop Sienna talking. “Hey, hey, stop, it’s ok. Thanks for your apology, but as I said last night, it’s best we just draw a line. We’re all human, and we all make mistakes.”

“Thanks,” said Sienna, looking genuinely relieved. “And I hope you were able to make it up with Alex.”

“Yes, well, that’s not something you need to worry about,” said Philippa, well aware that the bouncing dots had stopped and as yet, there had been no further communication from Alex. “Now tell me about the Abbott case, please. You said you’d prepared a summary for me?”

“Oh, yes,” said Sienna, raising her iPad to talk through the details of the case. She looked relieved to be discussing business at last, and so was Philippa.

After about fifteen minutes, Philippa thanked Sienna and told her to go home once she’d finished her next meeting.

Once she’d finished her own work, Philippa folded her laptop and opened the cupboard in her office. Her sports bag was still in there. She hadn’t been for a run in a few weeks and today felt like a good day to blow away some cobwebs. Once again, she cursed the preponderance of glass in her office structure, and she went to use the toilet and shower facilities down the corridor. Once changed, she felt good. The hardest thing about going for a run was always getting her sports bra on. Once that was done, she knew nothing could stop her and this was by far the easiest way to stop thinking about Alex.

Before long, Philippa was running along the canals by Brindley Place, admiring the variety of boats and bars and restaurants in that area. She flew past the unimaginatively titled National Indoor Arena, where she’d seen Elton John perform a few years before, and headed into a more residential area. She turned on a history podcast and escaped into a story about a failed political assassination.

Her legs ached to start with, and her lungs protested, but within a kilometre or two, she found a rhythm and her breath, her legs, her arms, her whole body, started to work smoothly. This was the moment she ran for. When everything was working in harmony and she forgot she was running, or how far she’d gone. She was just in the moment. She breathed in. Then out. In. Out. Her feet pummelled the towpath, and the world disappeared.

She ran a regular route, which meant she didn’t need to concentrate on which way to go. After an hour she found herself approaching her office building once again. She could see a familiar figure leaning against the wall outside.

Was that Alex?

She slowed, then stopped.

“Hi,” said Philippa, “you ok?”

Alex looked like she’d been crying. She was drawn and pale. “Er, not really.”

“God, I’m so sorry about last night,” said Philippa. “I never meant to hurt you.”

“No,” said Alex, “it really isn’t you.”

“Come on, let’s go inside,” said Philippa, swiping them both into the building. “Everyone will have gone home. We can sit in my office and talk.” She sensed that something was seriously wrong, and she was concerned it might have something to do with Seren.

“Here,” said Philippa, sitting Alex down in one of the easy chairs in her office, and taking the one beside it. She poured them both a glass of water.

“Thanks,” said Alex.

“What’s happened?” asked Philippa.

“I’ve come to say goodbye,” said Alex.

“What?” Philippa frowned.

“I’m going to France.” Alex looked down at her lap. “I’m sorry, because I really thought we could be something, but this is something I just have to do.”

“Ok,” said Philippa, “slow down. Why are you going to France? It sounds like more than a holiday.”

“It is, but I have to go.” Alex clasped her hands together. “Jess is moving to France with Seren. I can’t let my daughter go without me.”

“When is she going?” Philippa’s brain was already scrolling through the legal ramifications.

“Next week,” said Alex.

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