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Chapter Sixteen

“ I t’s quite a depressing thought,” said the man. “Planning for our deaths.”

“Dan,” said his wife, a warning tone in her voice. “Talking about it doesn’t make it any more likely to happen. We’ve talked about this before.”

“I know,” said Dan. They were in their forties, sat together in Philippa’s office.

“And we have children. We need to take care of Ferny and Billy, make sure that if anything were to happen to us, everything would be ok for them. And we need to make sure we’re each taken care of if the other one goes first.” The woman, who’d introduced herself as Lou, smiled at her husband, and his brow softened. He smiled uncertainly.

“Right,” said Philippa, “this won’t be too complicated based on the information you’ve already shared with me.

I would agree with you, Lou, that having things in place is really important.

People who die without a will – intestate we call it – can unwittingly leave behind a lot of confusion and difficulty for their loved ones.

If the worst should ever happen, the last thing you want to be worrying about is money. ”

Lou looked at Dan kindly, as if to underline what Philippa was saying. He gave a grim smile. “Yeah,” he said.

Philippa went through their options carefully, explaining each step. She knew that one of the most important things as a solicitor was to avoid blinding her clients with terminology, as she’d seen so many of her colleagues do.

She was meeting Charlie for lunch at a Japanese restaurant on Colmore Row, so once she’d agreed the details she’d be drafting for the couple, she headed out of the office.

“Loving the hair,” said Charlie.

“You said that already,” Philippa laughed.

“Hair like that deserves to be loved more than once. So, have you had any hot dates yet?” he asked as he tucked into his poke bowl.

Philippa speared a piece of sashimi on a chopstick. “Well, not a real one.”

“Good lord, you’re not still keeping up that charade with Fletch, are you?” He rolled his eyes.

“It’s just a convenient arrangement,” said Philippa, slightly embarrassed.

“And it’s all just pretend, is it?” said Charlie, holding her in his stare.

“Well, I think so.”

“You think so?” He raised his eyebrows.

Philippa drew in a deep breath and sighed. “Ok, so there might have been a couple of moments where I’ve wondered if it might not be entirely pretend.”

Charlie pursed his lips. “Be careful, Phil.” His voice was low. “Fletch is an awesome friend and great fun to spend time with, but she’s more complicated than she’d have you believe.”

Philippa felt a cold shiver. “What do you mean?”

“Only she can talk about her life, her history. It’s not my place,” said Charlie. “And I’m sure I’ve made this sound far more than it is.” He ran a finger along his tiny moustache. “Look, I love you both, and I care about you. I don’t want either of you to get hurt.”

“I don’t think she’s getting hurt any time soon,” said Philippa.

“Don’t be so sure,” said Charlie. “Just, well, be careful, like I say.”

She nodded. “In other news, I may be about to land the biggest contract of my career.”

“Ooh, get you, I love it when you come over all Miranda Priestly, tell me more and promise not to shout at me!” He grinned.

Philippa laughed, putting Alex out of her mind, and told him all about the opportunity Gerry had described.

“And how about you?” asked Philippa. “Any love interest on the scene? You’ve always been the love-’em-and-leave-’em sort. Except for Ralph, of course.” She whispered the name of Charlie’s ex-husband, a man he’d not seen in years, a name they generally avoided mentioning.

Charlie glared but then smiled. “Actually, I may have met someone worth seeing more than once.”

“Ooh,” said Philippa, “I’ve never, ever, ever heard you say that. What’s his name?”

“Jack,” said Charlie, his cheeks turning pink.

“Oh my God, you’re blushing, that never happens.” Philippa was stunned.

“Oh be quiet over there, you with your fabulous hair,” said Charlie with a smug smile. “We’ve been friends for a while. My friend Kiera’s engaged to his sister, Seymour. Jack and Seymour run the Jam Pot.”

“Ooh yes, the best toast in Kings Heath is served in there,” said Philippa, making a note to go back there soon. So many different flavours of jam.

“We were hanging out more and more. I honestly thought he was straight. His sister went away for a few days with her fiancée, and I helped out at the cafe for a couple of days. It quickly became abundantly clear that far from being straight, he was pan, and somewhere between switching off the coffee machine and cleaning the floors one night, things changed.” Charlie grinned, blushing to the tips of his ears.

“Oh my God, you’re totally smitten,” said Philippa laughing. It was lovely seeing him happy. “Well, good for you.”

“And we need to make sure you get to be smitten, too. I’m sure I know someone I can set you up with,” replied Charlie, picking up his phone.

“Oh, don’t you start,” Philippa laughed. “Alex was on about this the other night. I’m fine as I am, thanks.”

“Well, ok, for now. How’s Dottie doing? Is she ok with you and Paul and stuff?”

“Yes,” said Philippa. “She’s doing well. One thing I haven’t got round to is explaining to her that I’m gay, though. It’s not like we don’t have gay friends, so I don’t think it’ll be a big deal. But it’s a thing I need to do.”

“It is,” said Charlie. “And I suspect it’ll be a far bigger deal for you than it is for her. She seems to take life in her stride.”

“That she does,” chuckled Philippa. “She asked me when Taylor Swift was going to tour the UK again and I said I thought it would be a while. So now she’s started a letter campaign and enlisted all the children in her class.

Someone in Taylor Swift’s entourage is currently being besieged by messages from Birmingham pre-teens begging her to come back to the UK, poor thing. ”

“Well,” said Charlie with a wry smile, “at least when the restraining order comes through, you can draft a suitably legal eagle response.”