Page 109 of The Girl You Left Behind
“Is she?”
“Uh...” Paul glances back toward the court, rubs at his hair. “Sort of. Look. I’ve got to go in. I’ll see you both later.”
Greg looks at him, then at the crowd, which is now a loose, tame thing, people milling around and chatting as if the last ten minutes hadn’t happened. His expression is uncharacteristically cold. “So,” he says, as he climbs back into the car, “that whole I’m-on-the-side-of-the-angels thing, how’s it working out for you?”
He doesn’t look at Paul as he drives away. Jake’s face, pale against the back windshield, gazes impassively at him until the car disappears from view.
•••
Janey is at his side as he walks up the steps toward the courtroom. Her hair is neatly pinned, and she is wearing bright red lipstick. “Touching,” she says.
He pretends he hasn’t heard her.
Sean Flaherty dumps his folders on a bench and prepares to go through security. “This is getting a bit out of hand. Never seen anything like it.”
“Yeah,” says Paul, rubbing his jaw. “It’s almost like... Oh, I don’t know. Like all this inflammatory crap being fed to the media is having an effect.” He turns to Janey.
“Meaning?” says Janey, coolly.
“Meaning that whoever is briefing journalists and winding up interest groups obviously couldn’t give a flying fuck how unpleasant this is going to get.”
“Whereas you are all chivalry.” Janey looks back at him steadily.
“Janey? Did you have anything to do with that protest?”
The pause is just a nanosecond too long.
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Jesus Christ.”
Sean’s gaze flickers between them, as if he is only just registering that a whole separate conversation is taking place before him. He excuses himself, muttering about briefing the barrister. And it is just Paul and Janey in the long stone corridor.
He runs a hand through his hair, gazes back toward the courtroom. “I don’t like this. I don’t like this at all.”
“It’s business. And you never minded before.” She glances at her watch, then out of the window. The Strand is not visible from back here, but the chanting of the protesters can still be heard, barely muffled by the buildings. Her arms are folded across her chest.
“Anyway, I don’t think you can exactly play the innocent.”
“Meaning?”
“You want to tell me what’s going on? With you and Mrs. Halston?”
“Nothing’s going on.”
“Don’t insult my intelligence.”
“Okay. Nothing that’s any of your business.”
“If you’re having a relationship with the subject of our claim, I think that’s very much my business.”
“I am not in a relationship with her.”
Janey moves closer to him. “Don’t fuck me around, Paul. You approached the Lefèvres behind my back, trying to negotiate a settlement.”
“Yeah. I was going to talk to you about—”
“I saw that little display out there. And you try to cut a deal for her, days before the ruling?”
