Page 54 of Private Lives

‘Come on, don’t get all teary on me, Anna,’ said Ron with a wink. ‘I’ve got enough of that on my hands with madam through there. I came to you because you’re the best, no other reason.’

She blushed slightly.

‘Thank you.’

‘And don’t let the bastards grind you down, all right?’

No chance of that, she thought to herself. I’m back in the game.

She left Ron’s Hammersmith office and got a taxi to Piccadilly. It was a baking-hot day and she pulled the window down, feeling the warm air on her face. Donovan Pierce was a relaxed firm but not so relaxed that she could wear shorts, vest and flip-flops. Her fitted light wool Armani dress had looked good in court, but it wasn’t exactly ideal for walking through the park.

It was almost one o’clock. She’d give herself half an hour here – tops. The up side of her reduced workload was that she had more time to figure out how to get Blake Stanhope for contempt of court. So far she’d hit a brick wall. Neil Graham, the editor of the Scandalhound website, had finally taken her call but had been typically obtuse and difficult. Perhaps he was still miffed about the photo-doctored picture of the actress Serena Balcon she’d sued him for last year. Regardless, there was no way he was going to confirm that Blake had leaked the story. Not yet anyway.

What the hell am I doing here? Anna thought as she paid the cabby and walked through the gates of Green Park. Meeting this strange girl had seemed to make sense yesterday. It had certainly been a left-field conversation with Ruby, but she’d been intrigued by the girl’s story. Perhaps the truth was that she’d been feeling isolated and vulnerable and Ruby’s desperate need had struck a chord with her. Oh well, let’s get this over with, she thought. Ruby Hart, where are you?

Scores of office workers and tourists were teeming on to the parched yellow grass, to sunbathe or have lunch under a shady tree. She glanced at the photo of Ruby that the girl had emailed her, so she could recognise her, but no one seemed to fit the bill.

Anna looked at her watch. She had to be back in the office by two o’clock or Helen Pierce would start asking questions. Although the frosty atmosphere had lessened a little – Ron Green’s business had no doubt helped in that regard – she still felt like a pariah in the eyes of the senior partner, but she knew there was no point in dwelling on the injustice of it all. She just had to pick herself up and prove to Helen that she had been right to hire her in the first place.

‘Anna?’

She turned; she had been so caught up in her thoughts, she hadn’t seen the girl approach.

She was small, and her dark-blond hair was scraped back in a ponytail. Despite the heat, she had thick black leggings on under canvas shorts, and she was chewing nervously on a painted nail.

‘You must be Ruby,’ said Anna, shaking her other hand. ‘Shall we walk? It’s too hot to stand around.’

Ruby nodded shyly.

‘Sorry I didn’t want to meet in your office. I didn’t think I’d get past the receptionist.’

Anna smiled. ‘No, you don’t look like our average client. How old are you?’

‘Seventeen.’

God, you look much older, thought Anna, observing the girl’s hard, care-worn look. Don’t jump to conclusions, Anna, she scolded herself.

‘So where have you travelled from?’ she asked as they began to walk around the lake.

‘Near Doncaster.’

‘Are you at college?’

Ruby nodded. ‘I’m doing my A levels. I’m applying to uni when I get back,’ she said with a hint of pride.

‘Great. Which one?’

‘Cambridge.’

‘Well done you.’ Anna smiled, hoping it hadn’t come out as patronising. Which it was, she thought. You had her down as a teen mother on crack, didn’t you?

‘So what do you want to do? When you finish your degree, I mean?’

Ruby shrugged.

‘I used to think about journalism, but maybe it’s too corrupt and deceitful.’

Anna couldn’t help but give a cynical laugh, thinking immediately of Andrew and how he’d got Sophie a food column on his newspaper, then begun an affair with her soon after. Deceitful wasn’t the half of it.