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Authors: Robert Fanshaw

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BOOK: Shameless Exposure
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“There is one condition, though.”

“Yes, of course, what?”

“You’ll have to spend more time with me. The board is prioritising succession-planning. They want me to consider having a deputy. You’ve joined the list of possibles but you’ll need to learn the ropes to have any chance.” She resisted making a joke about how she was already quite good with ropes. She was glad he didn’t know about the training she had received from his predecessor.

 

♥ ♥ ♥

 

Robert lay with his back to her, refusing to respond to the hand she was running up and down his back.

“Robert, we should talk about this now. They say you should never go to sleep without clearing the air.”

“I don’t understand you. How could you?”

“It was a work thing, that’s all. It was a once only opportunity to speak to the Chief about getting back to the UK. It just happened to be a football match.”

“I don’t mind you going to a football match. I always said you would enjoy it. But I saw you jumping up and down and hugging Andreas when they scored.”

“It wasn’t just me. Everyone was doing it.”

“No, Caroline, not everyone. It was offside, it shouldn’t have been allowed. And the penalty wasn’t a penalty. He dived.”

She renewed her attempts at appeasement, moving lower with her hand.

“Well it all worked out in the end. He’s agreed to me coming back to London which means you and I can spend more time together.” She reached further and felt a stiff prick. She put her hand around it gently. “You’re not really upset about me, are you Robert? It’s because your team lost and Andreas’s team won.” He didn’t deny it. “Let’s play the game again. I’ll put those black boots that you like back on and be Spurs, and you can wear your red shirt and beat me two nil, three nil if you like…”

 
Three

Robert stood alone on the wooden jetty wondering if the torn information notice pinned to a post was correct. He listened intently but there was no sound apart from the gentle lapping of six inch waves on the shingle beach. He had stayed the night in a decent hotel in Blackwaterside, once a hunting lodge for royalty and lairds. He was the only guest and had used the solitude to prepare for his meeting with Regina Heart. It was his favourite part of the job – taking instructions directly from the client – but he felt uneasy. The last time he had seen this particular client she had been locked in a cage in a torn latex dress.

Forbes-Brown had insisted he travel to see Regina. “When the case is worth thousands, the client comes to us. When it’s worth millions, we go to them. Most people would jump at the chance for a couple of days in Scotland sampling a few malts. What’s the matter with you, Robert?”

“No, I’m fine. I’ll go. I was trying to save your costs.”

“You’re not questioning my judgement? This young woman has been badly treated by a big company. I want to do something for her.”

“She’s not exactly young, Forbes-Brown.”

“She is from where I stand. Not that I’ve met her in the flesh. We spoke on the phone, but there was something in her manner. I don’t know, she had a lovely melodic voice… and she sent me a picture, to my phone. Damned clever, that.”

“I know what you mean. I mean I know the kind of person. Why don’t you take instructions yourself?”

“Look here Robert, I can’t spend all day listening to your twaddle. There’s no risk anyway. The company will settle out of court. They won’t want dirty linen washed in public. Even you couldn’t fuck this one up.”

“I just think if it comes out that my wife works for the company being sued the plaintiff might feel she’s not had a fair shot, especially if she loses.”

“She can’t possibly lose. It’s just a question of how much. Your connection to a junior executive in Monsaint won’t come out. Why would it? Sometimes your attitude… It’s a straightforward case with a big fee. What more do you want? There are plenty of other barristers I could give it to.”

“I’ll get in touch with Castle Dunlaggin right away.”

Robert heard the boat before he saw it. He thought it must be some small fishing boat with an outboard motor, but then, as the high pitched whine increased, a flat-bottomed launch surged out of the mist. The captain of the vessel, standing at the back holding the tiller, cut the engine and the
Sound of Mura
drifted up to the jetty. Three women stood up in the boat and lurched to the side to clamber up on the jetty, assisted by the captain. When they were on the jetty, the captain looked at his watch.

“Eleven o’clock then. That’s when the boat leaves. If you’re not here I go without you.”

“Excuse me,” said Robert. “I thought the boat left at ten o’clock. That’s what it says on the notice.”

“That was last winter. We changed it to fit better with the ferry over from the mainland.” The boatman busied himself securing the vessel to the jetty.

“Is there anywhere to shelter – get a cup of coffee maybe?” asked Robert.

“You might as well come with us,” said one of the longhaired girls. Robert was used to looking down slightly when he talked to women, but it was not necessary in this case. All three were taller than him. “We’re going to the hotel for our daily fix.” Robert looked puzzled. He’d not expected to encounter drug addicts in such a remote spot.

“Don’t look so worried. They do really good coffee. And more important, there’s a cigarette machine. I’m Georgina, by the way. And this is Joni. And Greta; she’s from Poland. We do assignments for the same agency.”

Ten minutes brisk walking with the long-striding women and Robert was back at the hotel in Blackwaterside. The man behind the bar was obviously expecting the women.

“The usual?”

“Yes please,” said Georgina, “but put in an extra shot all round. Coffee for this gentleman, too.”

The waiter nodded at Robert. “I thought you were a wee bit early for the boat. It’s not a day for sight-seeing.” Robert nodded back. He knew in theory that Scotland was a mountainous country but in three visits he had only ever had the merest glimpse of hillside through rain or mist.

Robert joined the women in the smoking shelter whilst the coffee was prepared. He asked them how long they had been at Dunlaggin Castle.

“Nearly three weeks,” said Joni. “Twenty eight days is the preferred stay – you have to go though one complete lunar cycle. It’s my second visit. It’s great because I lose loads of weight which is so hard in London.”

“I didn’t know Regina ran a weight loss programme,” said Robert.

“No, she doesn’t. It’s just that the food is simple. There’s no alcohol – except once a month at full moon. We drink loads of herbal tea and the pounds just fall off, which is handy in our line of work.” Of course, thought Robert, models.

“So you’re not interested in Regina’s animist philosophy?”

“I am,” said Joni, directing a plume of smoke away from Robert. “I’m not sure about those two. They seem more interested in practice than theory.” They all three giggled. They moved back into the warmth of the hotel to drink their coffee and spent the next twenty minutes establishing that Robert’s social circle and their own did not overlap at any point.

“Is that a watch?” asked Robert. “Only I’m worried about missing the boat.”

“This?” said Georgina, waving an electronic bracelet on her right wrist. “No, it’s not a watch. You have to wear it if you’re following the programme. You explain it, Greta. I get embarrassed.”

Greta shuffled up close to Robert and pulled back her sleeve.

“This is an orgatron. It measures the female sexual response. It’s an aid to women following the programme because some women aren’t so sure if they’ve had an orgasm or not, and others have them at the drop of a hat. See the red area on the dial? That lights up if I have an orgasm and it sends a signal to Regina’s computer. And the yellow, that’s the zone we have to stay in until the full moon. It starts to flash if you get close to orgasm, it helps you learn control. Regina will explain it much better. It’s a means to an end. The idea is to connect with the spirit through the power of the female orgasm.”

“Why does Regina need to know if you’ve had an orgasm?” asked Robert.

“Well the point is,” said Joni, “we’re not supposed to. Not until the full moon.”

“What happens if you accidentally go into the red zone?”

“I’ve never transgressed. That’s not my problem,” said Joni, looking pointedly at Greta. “But for those who can’t control themselves, the first time you have to go and see Regina in her room. If it happens a second time she awards some kind of penance. A third time and you’re out – off the programme, off the island.”

“I’m not surprised to hear Regina’s running a tight ship,” said Robert. “She used be the Chief Executive of a big company.”

“How do you know that?” said Joni.

“We lawyers do our research.”

They walked back through the mist, Robert wondering what tricks the re-invented Regina was up to now. He must be on his guard. In fact, the massive injection of caffeine on top of his usual breakfast allocation had tipped him to the verge of paranoia. He was sure they would miss the boat and kept speeding ahead of the three women who dawdled, smoking a final cigarette. He need not have worried. The captain of the
Sound of Mura
was asleep in the bottom of the vessel, his peaked cap over his face.

When they were all safely down in the well of the boat, the captain yanked the starter rope and gunned the throttle to maximum. The front of the boat surged upwards, tipping Robert back into Joni’s arms. They laughed nervously on the twenty minute ride over to the Isle of Mura. Salty spray stung their faces but they didn’t need the tarpaulins to keep their clothes dry.

“Can I check the time of the return to Blackwaterside?” asked Robert.

“It’s always been three o’clock,” said the captain.

“So three o’clock then?”

“Aye, but I can nae promise ye. This fog is due to lift and a gale is forecast. Anything above force six and this wee thing can nae handle it.”

“What happens then?” asked Robert.

“We wait until the storm dies down. Din nae worry, the castle has a month’s supply of mung beans.”

They walked up a steep stony track to a big wooden door, the forbidding entrance to the castle. Joni knocked three times and the door opened electronically, admitting them to an enclosed cobbled courtyard. From the outside, the castle had appeared ruined, but once inside the courtyard Robert could see that a modern shell had been constructed, filling some of the gaps in the ruin with thick glass panels. Joni said he would find Regina in the tower at the far corner of the courtyard.

The ground floor of the tower was empty so he shouted up the stone steps to announce his arrival. A sing-song voice invited him to ascend the spiral stairs. Regina was waiting for him at the entrance to her office, clad in long yellow robes. She shook his hand formally. Robert’s heart beat rapidly, and not just from the effort of the steep stairs. He didn’t usually feel nervous meeting a client.

“Thank you so much for coming, Robert. My commitments make it hard for me to get away.”

“No problem, it’s the part of my job I enjoy most – taking instructions.” He wished he hadn’t said that.

“I was rather hoping to take instructions from you. I’m new to civil litigation. People have generally agreed to my requests without question in the past.”

“Look,” said Robert, “I’d like to get this out of the way. If you’d rather someone else represented you I’d quite understand. It was just bad luck that Forbes-Brown gave the case to me.”

“It wasn’t bad luck, I asked for you. I told Forbes-Brown you’d been recommended by a friend. I was very impressed by your performance in Copenhagen and I always prefer to work with people I know. I don’t hold anything against you. I was a different person then.”

“And you don’t mind that Caroline works for the defendant?”

“I know you’re too professional to let that influence your legal judgement. I have faith that this will work out well. I’m not doing this for the money – not for myself, anyway. The Foundation needs funds to keep going and to pay for proselytes who can’t afford the fees here. And there’s still a lot of work to be done on the castle.”

“I see. Perhaps you could sketch out the basis for your claim against Monsaint whilst I take a few notes.”

“That won’t be necessary. Come, take off your coat and sit down by my desk.”

She opened a draw and pulled out a thick sheaf of papers, loosely bound with woollen thread between two black cardboard covers. He opened it carefully and ran his eyes over a couple of the erratically handwritten pages.

“It’s all there,” she said, “up to the point when I resigned from my position as Chief Executive.”

“Obviously I will need time to read this carefully, but from a random page I can detect there may be incidents described which could provoke a counter-claim from those named. I will need to take this away and select one or two examples which will encourage the defendant to settle out of court.”

“I want it all to come out. I want to make a clean breast of it, a public confession. It’s important to my self-transformation. The spirit has told me I have to do it to cleanse myself.”

“Is there some other way you could achieve that? Because going to court in a case like this could cost a great deal. If you lost it would be ruinous.”

“Don’t worry, Robert, that’s not a problem. Forbes-Brown has agreed to act for nothing if the case is lost. He believes I have strong case from what I told him on the phone.”

“No fee at all?”

“He said he would make a small charge to cover your expenses. I’m afraid you won’t be able to take my book away. It’s my only copy and the confessions have a sacred meaning for me.”

“Let me have a quiet place and I’ll see how much I can get through before the boat goes back.”

She put her hand on his arm. “I really appreciate you doing this, Robert. You can use my bedroom. It’s up those stairs, one floor.”

“I think I’d better not use your bedroom. Is there anywhere else?”

“How is Caroline? Now there’s a woman who could be guided to fulfilment by the spirit. She has such vaginal potential. She’s quite irresistible.”

“Virginal? No, that’s not my Caroline.”

“You men underestimate the power of female sexuality. I myself am only just beginning to appreciate the immense power of the vagina spirit. But tell me, how is your wife? I want to know about her. I was trying to nurture her career when it all went wrong.”

“Caroline is well. She got the Europe promotion but she’s back at HQ at the moment. She’s on a wild goose chase to track down her natural mother.”

“Yes, I remember her telling me she was adopted.”

“What? She told you? She didn’t even tell me until after we were married.”

“The mentoring sessions were very deep at times. I could tell there was something of the orphan about her, a vulnerability. Please tell her I will pray for her mothers. I will harness the energy of my animal spirit.”

BOOK: Shameless Exposure
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