Page 82 of Behind Frenemy Lines

But I didn’t regret my decision to resign. I’d figure things out.

“At least it means I won’t have to work on the Jamaludin matter.” I grinned at Charles, weary. “Silver linings. It’s your problem now.”

“I’ve been thinking about the concerns you raised,” said Charles. “I’m going to speak to Farah. There may be enough in what you’ve told me, and theGuardianpiece itself, to convince the firm this isn’t a matter they want to take on.” He paused. “I wouldn’t do anything on impulse. It may be resolved if we wait and trust in the process.”

After a moment, I nodded. It was safer for Charles—for both of us—if I didn’t tell him what I was planning. Let him think that, since I was leaving the firm, I was washing my hands of the affair. It was technically no longer any of my business whether Swithin Watkins chose to represent the corrupt Prime Minister of my country or not. In a week’s time, I’d have nothing to do with Swithin Watkins.

“I need to send this email to HR,” I said. “Is it all right if I name you as a witness?”

“Please do.”

I emailed HR, giving formal notice of my resignation, cc’ing Arthur and Farah. Then I rang the HR contact for the Litigation department and asked for a meeting: “I have serious concerns to report about sexual misconduct by a partner.”

By the time I rang off, I had a calendar invite in my inbox for a meeting with the head of HR in a couple of hours’ time. Whatever Arthur’s next move was, I’d have a chance to tell my story.

There wasn’t much else to deal with in my inbox—if you ignored the emails from Blackmount Capital addresses, and I had no intention of doing anything else. I found myself thinking that it was not a bad time to quit. I had hardly anything to hand over—a small pro bono case, and Rosalind’s protocol.

The thought of Rosalind gave me a pang. I should tell her.

I’d pinged Rosalind an email asking when she’d have time for a call, when Charles cleared his throat.

“I forgot to mention,” he said. “I rang the building management company about my flat. They’re going to start work on the repairs tomorrow. It took some arguing, but they’ve agreed to cover a hotel till the repairs are done. I’m going to book somewhere, starting this evening, but could I come by your flat to pick up my things?”

“Of course,” I said. “That’s great!”

I only meant it was good the building management company was taking responsibility, but maybe I’d sounded too enthusiastic at the idea of him getting out of my flat. His face fell.

I was about to reassure him, when it struck me that if Charles wasn’t going to be in my flat that evening, I’d be able to ring Zuri and ask her to put me in touch with Helen Daley’s source.

I could message her even if Charles was around, of course, but it was a lot to explain over text message. Also, if I was going to be breaching client confidentiality—which I hadn’t quite made up my mind to do yet—I for sure was not going to leave a written record of it.

My phone buzzed before I could say anything to Charles. It was Rosalind.

Saw your email. Can you talk now?

“I’ve got to make a call,” I said.

Charles said, “I’ve got a Teams meeting in five minutes, but I can go find a meeting room.”

“No, you stay. I’m going to go for a walk. Get some fresh air,” I said. After an unprepossessing start, the day had turned beautiful, sunshine streaming through the window behind Charles.

Silhouetted against the light, Charles looked like a sexy guardian angel of drama-plagued lawyers. Defender of legal professional privilege, surprise cosplayer, skilled noodle chef, and the sweetest guy I knew.

“We should go for dinner later,” I said. “If you think you’ll be able to log off before eight.”

Charles brightened. “That would be great.”

Outside, the skies above the City were a pure cloudless blue. I crossed the road, heading for the church at the end of the street. There was a tiny churchyard that filled up with City workers at lunchtime on sunny days, but if you went round the back of the church, where the tombstones were, it was much quieter. There were a couple of benches there, at least one of which was usually unoccupied.

I tried Rosalind on her work number first, for propriety’s sake, but the call went to voicemail. I rang her personal number.

Rosalind picked up straight away. “Kriya! Are you in the office? Is there anyone around you?”

Her voice was full of suppressed excitement.

“No,” I said. “I’m outdoors, but I’m good to speak. Rosalind—”

“I’ll let you tell me what you wanted to talk about,” said Rosalind. “But first, I wanted to let you know. I’m moving to Hong Kong to take up a role as the Regional Head of Compliance and Regulatory Affairs for ASPAC. It was announced internally today.”

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