Page 5 of Behind Frenemy Lines

Arthur himself was looking cheerful, as though the movehad already given him a new lease on life. It was all right for some.

“Morning,” he said. “Got your kit? How’s the office?”

“Er, yeah, about that,” I said. “Is the room allocation definitely fixed? Or is there any scope for flexibility, do you think?”

Arthur’s smile dimmed. “Is there a problem?”

I hesitated.

I could try explaining that Charles Goh and I were bound together by an evil fate, from our first encounter at this very firm. But Arthur would think I was nuts. He didn’t know what it was like to keep running into a hot lawyer employed by the firm that rejected you and have it be a disasterevery single time.

It wouldn’t sound plausible. The City of London was actually pretty large. There was no reason I should have seen anything more of Charles Goh after that ill-fated assessment centre. We didn’t even do the same kind of law, apart from the fact that we were both litigators. Yet Charles had kept turning up, over the years.

(“He’s your good friend,” said Zuri.

“He’s my bad luck charm,” I said. “He’s like the omen you see when something terrible is going to happen. Like flocks of birds flying backwards. Rains of frogs.”

“You won the case what,” said Zuri. “The one where he spilled his coffee on you at the big strategy meeting. Eh, and didn’t you win the other court application? That time you were late to court and had to run there with the files on a trolley and he was sitting up there with the judge, watching you, when you went in and rolled the trolley over the client’s foot.”

“That’s the claimant’s lawyer’s fault. If he didn’t leave his laptop cable trailing on the floor there, I wouldn’t have tripped over it, and the trolley wouldn’t have gone anywhere near the client.” I rubbed my face. “That kind of thing only happens when Charles Goh is around. Like I said, my bad luck charm.”

“Your good friend,” Zuri intoned. Which was how she and all our mutual friends had started calling him Kawan Baik.)

I said to Arthur now:

“The office is right by the kitchenette. It gets pretty noisy, with the coffee machine and people chatting. I don’t suppose there are any other offices going free?”

“They’re tight on office space here,” said Arthur. “Firm policy is to move towards open plan. No fixed desks for anyone, since everyone’s doing hybrid working. The room you’re in was only available because the other guy comes in five days a week. He managed to negotiate for his own office.”

“Five days a week?” I said faintly.

I’d been thinking that if I couldn’t switch offices, I’d aim to come in on Kawan Baik’s “work from home” days. At least I could minimise exposure to him that way.

Typical of Charles Goh. It was like he purposely wanted to thwart me at every turn.

“It doesn’t look too busy out there,” said Arthur, peering out of his office. “You could use one of the empty pods if you need to focus? Or a meeting room?”

“Yeah,” I said, without enthusiasm. “I could do that.”

Arthur ran his hand over his hair, looking harassed. His air of good cheer had vanished.

I felt bad. I knew intellectually I wasn’t responsible for Arthur’s feelings, but my jobwasabout making him—and by proxy, our clients—happy. The instinct was ingrained in me by now. Besides, there was no denying my life was easier when Arthur was in a good mood.

“I can’t promise anything,” he said, “but I’ll speak to Farah.”

Farah was the group managing partner. I’d only met her once—a British Asian woman with a cut-glass accent, silvering hair, and a mind like a steel trap. I didn’t want her to know me as the new joiner who was complaining about having to hear people talk in the office.

“It’s fine,” I said. “I wanted to know what the options were. But it doesn’t sound like it would be straightforward to relocate me.”

“No,” agreed Arthur. “Sorry. I can talk to Farah if you want, but I doubt she’ll be able to do anything… No? If you’re sure.” He settled back, looking relieved. “Anything else I can do for you?”

I shook my head, suppressing a sigh. It had always been a long shot. Arthur never really helped solve my problems. That wasn’t what our relationship was about. “I’ll let you get on with your day.”

“Wait,” said Arthur. “Since you’re here—you’ve met our PA, right? Victoria’s very nice, she sits in the pod down by the lifts. Can you talk to her about sorting our travel to Hong Kong for the conference?”

I stared. “What conference?”

“The one we’re speaking at,” said Arthur. “I’m going to ring the clients we were going to see, set up some meetings.”

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