Blood Lines

I shrugged him off.

‘Brodie – the Edinburgh Bar is gunning for you. You are building a practice that is enviable – but you’ve no protection. The clients that you are representing are coming to you from somewhere. Someone else’s pocket is empty since you’ve got so popular.’

I continued to look as disinterested as I could muster. ‘Other lawyers,’ Kailash butted in. ‘You’re taking money from their purses and they’re getting worried and angry.’

‘If they can’t keep their clients happy, that’s their problem.’

I sounded more bullish than I felt.

I thought of all the complaints from the Law Society that I had received. Their headed notepaper was usually green – every letter I had was in red. Warning letters. Even Lavender was worried.

‘Don’t take that tone with me – I know better,’ said my mother. ‘The Bar might be full of absolute tossers, but they’re razor-sharp when it comes to protecting their purses, and I, for one, wouldn’t cross swords with them lightly.’

‘Well then, it’s lucky someone in this family has guts,’ I responded.

Kailash and Grandad looked at me. I was a bit worried; the seriousness of my situation had stopped them laughing out loud at me even though they should have. I was behaving like an impudent young pup – no wonder they were treating me like a child. I was Grandad’s last blood relative, so I really couldn’t doubt that my best interests were of paramount importance to him.

And yet I tried.

My grandad tried again to make me see sense.

‘Brodie – I know about the letters of complaint. I’ve tried to buy you time. I’ve been told that if you mend your ways, pull back on your empire building a bit, and stop annoying everyone in the entire field, then they will be put on the backburner until we can find a different path for you.’

I was furious. How dare they lecture me like this?

‘Might I remind you both that my life was going well until you two became involved in it again. “The rising star of the Scottish Bar” – that was me. And then you …’ I pointed at Kailash, ‘decided to settle your differences with my senior partner by involving him in a sex scandal and splashed it all over the papers. So what happens then? My firm gets plunged into debt because of the defamation charge going against us and unless my firm pays off its overdraft then I’ll be bankrupt and unable to practise on my own? Thanks to you, Mummy dearest, I’m looking at a future of being someone else’s cash cow, so don’t start telling me what to do when the best thing is probably that you keep well out of things.’

Kailash didn’t look fazed in the slightest. I suppose a lot worse had been said to her.

‘Brodie,’ she went on, as if I hadn’t spoken, ‘you play the cards you’re dealt. If you could win carrying on the way you are – making enemies left, right and centre – I’d say go ahead. But you simply can’t win.’

‘You don’t trust me?’ I asked her. ‘You don’t trust me to do things properly?’

‘Too bad,’ she cut back. ‘Your life is at stake now – and that’s far more important.’

‘You’re using a lot of gambling terminology, Kailash,’ I commented, trying to move the conversation on. ‘Are the rumours correct?’

‘Yes, they are. For once. I’ve taken over the Danube Street casino.’

She mentioned it as if she’d bought a new handbag. And that was the rub. I knew that all I would have to do would be to ask either of them for money to buy my way out of the firm. Lothian and St Clair would see the back of me and I would be, technically, free. I knew that Kailash and my grandad would give me as much as I needed without a second thought, but my damned pride insisted that I had to do it my own way. If I did rely on the money of others, who would I choose anyway? Which fortune was more acceptable to me? The one made recently by one woman’s ingenuity and willingness to do anything to survive, or the other based on old, aristocratic money handed down through the ages? I told myself it wasn’t a choice I was ready to make.

‘Enough of these diversionary tactics. Kailash – can’t you see what she’s doing?’ Lord MacGregor was shouting.

He was a great lawyer in his time, my grandad, but the judge in him took over now. There was only one person in charge in his drawing room and it was clear that it wasn’t going to be me.

‘Brodie – the only route open to you is to take a position as a sheriff. Put in a few years in the lower courts and then get a seat in the College of Justice. Join the family firm and become a judge. It would make me very proud to see you wear the red robes.’

‘Easy as that, is it?’ I asked. ‘Just say what you want and it all comes together? Even for your annoying bastard granddaughter?’

He looked slightly flustered. Unusually.

‘Well, the only reason I can even suggest this is that the powers-that-be are looking for more women to become judges. Political correctness or some other such bloody nonsense. It can work in your favour, my dear.’

‘Follow in my father’s footsteps?’

‘If it will save you from being ruined, then yes, do whatever you have to continue.’ Kailash joined in the shouting match.

‘Some people would bite their arm off for the chance we are offering you.’ Grandad’s voice was raised.

We. I didn’t want to know about Kailash’s involvement. Thinking about what favours she was pulling in on my behalf made my blood run cold. No one likes to think about their mother having sex, much less for money or other favours. It was enough to keep me in therapy for years.

My grandad’s next words made that thought disappear.

‘Bridget Nicholson is wining and dining as we speak. That girl is desperate to be elevated to the bench.’

‘Girl? She was born middle-aged, and she’s certainly looked it ever since I’ve known her. She’s probably excited by the huge pension.’

‘Whatever her reasons are, Brodie, could you really imagine yourself scraping and bowing before Lady Nicholson?’

And there he had it – my hot button.

I didn’t want it, but I was bloody sure I didn’t want Bridget Nicholson to have it either.

Chapter Three (#u16ed8790-2977-5cfd-997e-9d1574345488)

‘Have you been sleeping there all night?’

It’s surprising how sharp and hard a ball of rolled-up paper is when it hits you in the face. I had been sleeping, head down on my glass-topped desk, and I could feel the drool running freely from the side of my mouth.

‘Was I snoring?’

‘Like a pig in clover – and the resemblance doesn’t stop there. Did you go home last night or have you been working in the office all night?’ Lavender looked sniffily around my office, which was littered with files.

‘When I finished at St Leonard’s with the custodies, it was hardly worth going home. I was busy at the weekend and I hadn’t had time to prepare the trial files properly.’ The mere mention of the word ‘weekend’ made my mouth go dry – Lavender Ironside wasn’t just the best secretary in the firm, she also knew me inside out and I was terrified she’d make me spill the beans about Jack.

‘If you employed an assistant they could do some of the preparation,’ she pointed out.

‘You know we can’t afford it,’ I replied.

Lavender snorted. ‘I know the money that comes in for criminal fees – you’re paying more than your fair share into the partners’ pissing pot. Why don’t you ask the others to cut down on their expenses and get the overdraft down?’

‘If I had the energy, I’d laugh, Lav.’ The very thought of the rest of them walking to work or taking clients to McDonald’s was risible. ‘I need some caffeine –would you?’

I knew that I must still be looking pathetic when Lavender switched the coffee machine on without a murmur. I wouldn’t get away without a few comments, though.

‘For all your money, Brodie, I wouldn’t have your life.’

‘Is that some sick joke, Lav? You of all people know I’m skint.’