The Last Good-bye

"Bzzz. Wrong answer." If you remember, years ago, you and I were something of an item. We liked the same things, we thought alike, we had fun together both in and out of the bed. I want us to relive those times."

"No!"

Bzzz. Wrong answer. Just because you have Sylvie doesn't mean that you can't make love to me. What do you say?"

"No!"

"Bzzz. Wrong answer. I bet that Sylvie is, as we speak, enjoying herself with her boss with no thought of you."

"No, she wouldn't do that."

"But didn't you tell me last night that you were certain that she and he, him, her boss he, him, were having it off behind your back?"

"I'm not a hundred percent sure that she is, and until that happens, I will not make love to you or anyone else."

"At least it wasn't 'no', but it's still the wrong answer. She's not thinking of you right now, so why are you insisting that she is true to you?"

"I have to give her the benefit of the doubt, innocent until proven guilty and all of that rubbish."

"Let's forget all about Sylvie for the time being. I want us to remember what we had all those years ago, the sex that we had all those years ago. I want that again, I don't want second best any more."

"If you remember way back then, it was you that insisted that we had no future together. I had to agree with you on that and, as far as I'm concerned, nothing has changed. We have no future together as a couple. I'm going back to my room to get some sleep. We have another exciting day ahead of us and then it's back home."

"Still having doubts about what will be waiting for you. Look Sam, I know that we were never meant to be husband and wife, but the sex was the best and that's what I want to experience again. After tonight we'll walk away, you to your uncertain future and me to my distant husband and some casual fornication on the side. Neither of us have a lot to look forward to, so please, forget about Sylvie, come to bed with me for some unbridled lust, no strings attached, we will just be friends with benefits. I don't like begging, but please, for old time's sake, fuck me."

"No." I stood and headed for her door. She grabbed my arm to hold me back, but I shook free and was out in the hallway and heading for the lifts.

Maggie sought me out as we filed into the auditorium. She had a funny look on her face and her first words surprised me. I was expecting, at the very least, her cold shoulder, but she seemed to be pleased with herself.

"Did you go out for some casual fornication last night?"

"Bastard, no. If you must know I was on the phone for hours last night."

"To your husband I hope."

"If you must know, yes. That was one of the calls that I made."

"Who else did you call."

"I've been sworn to secrecy."

The bitch refused to tell me who she had been speaking to. Every time I asked her she would just smile enigmatically. "My lips are sealed."

This went on all day and into the night. She had managed to get the seat next to mine and every time I tried to find out what she was keeping from me, she would either ignore me or direct the conversation in another direction. The bitch was enjoying herself.

"Are you doing this because I wouldn't have sex with you?"

"Partly. It's fun seeing you like this. You know what they say about a woman scorned don't you?"

"Shit, am I going to be subjected to this all the way back to Sydney?"

"Maybe. I'm going to try to catch up on lost sleep, I suggest that you do the same." The bitch knew that the furthest thing from my mind right now was sleep. I tried watching a forgettable movie on the little screen in front of me. Normally a movie as bad as this would have me nodding off in no time, but no, I stared at the screen right through to the end credits and beyond. There was probably another movie after that first one, but I was mentally a long way from the screen, and still not asleep. I was thinking about the arrivals hall and the fact that Sylvie would not be there. I went for a walk from one end of the Jumbo to the other and back to my seat with a stop at the toilets for a shit and shave and pit squirt.

"You should change your aftershave." Maggie mumbled as I slid back into my seat.

"Why? I like it, and Sylvie bought it for me because she likes it too."

"All the more reason why you should change."

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

"You'd better believe it."

I stared at the moving screen for I don't know how long before the Captain announced that we were on our landing approach to Sydney, and would be touching down in half an hour, and that all passengers were required to fill in the Customs declaration card. I had found from experience that it was preferable to declare something, even if you had nothing to declare, or you weren't over your allowance of Duty Free goodies, because the something to declare queue was always the quickest. "I didn't know whether I needed to declare this." You would say to the Customs officer, pointing to a bottle of perfume you'd bought for your wife. "No that's fine." The officer would tell you before waving you through. Your bags had already been x-rayed and the sniffer dogs hadn't sat next to them, so they knew that there was nothing suspicious in them and a quick search of your hand luggage confirmed that you had nothing of interest.

I was through Passport Control quickly and strolling towards the arrivals hall. Maggie caught up with me, this wasn't hard because I wasn't hurrying. "I can't wait to see the disappointment on your face, and just think, you could have had me last night."

"Has anyone told you today, you're not funny."

"No, you're the first."

We had arrived. I quickly scanned the crowd waiting behind the barrier. She was there! Sylvie was really there waiting for me. Not only that, but she had a smile a mile wide and was shoving people aside in her rush to greet me, at least I hope that it was me. "Welcome home Darling!" She cried once she had got the kissing out of the way. Then she resumed the kissing for a few more hours. "Hi Maggie." She acknowledged the presence of Maggie standing beside me. "I hope that the two of you have behaved yourselves over in London."

"Of course we did." Maggie said. I was incapable of speech at that time, my mouth being otherwise occupied.

"Okay, let's go, oh and by the way Sam, I've invited Maggie to stay with us for a couple of days." She looked at the shocked expression on my face. Oh I know that they were friends back in the day, but not close friends, it was sort of Maggie and I were friends before I met Sylvie and Maggie and Sylvie were also friends, so we were all friends within the guidelines dictated by my relationship with Sylvie.

"It's by way of thanks for her assistance."

"What's going on between you two?" I was confused to say the least. And then it hit me, Sylvie was the other long phone call. They had been cooking something up between them.

"Explanations can wait until we get home, and there's a lot to explain."

I couldn't get a word in edgewise on the drive home, Maggie and Sylvie were catching up on what seemed like years of gossip and no mention was made of what they had been talking about on the phone.

"Sam, could you make us coffee while I show Maggie her room?"

"Sure." I went off to work my wonders with the coffee machine while the two of them went chattering down the hall to the spare bedroom. I had coffee poured out and some nibbles on a plate when they emerged. "Now, please put me out of my misery, what have you two been cooking up between yourselves."

"Do you remember when you left here to fly to London?"

"How could I forget? I never thought that I would see you again."

"I wondered about that. I was trying to tell you that I was genuinely sad to see you leave, but you, it seems took it entirely the wrong way. Maggie told me that you thought that I was having an affair with the wonderful, if you are to believe him, Christopher Rollison QC, God's gift to the legal profession. Nothing could have been further from the truth, the man is a total arsehole. I was sad because I was not looking forward to having to face him and not having you here to rescue me if what I had planned back-fired."

"But," I had to think this through, and gather my thoughts so that I could string the right words together. "You would never speak to me about your work, if you were having problems you should have told me, I would have helped you."

"Yeah, by going in and punching his lights out. No, there had to be another way, and one that didn't involve physical violence. I suppose that I should start at the beginning." She got no argument from me. "As you are aware, he was head-hunted by Matheson's, they thought that they needed a Counsel with charisma, the partners were all getting on a bit and were carrying a little too much weight. They wanted someone lean, athletic, and with a good reputation. They made an obscene offer and he accepted. Part of the deal was that he would choose his own Junior Counsel from within the firm. He chose me. Initially I flattered myself, thinking that it was my abilities that got me the job, but I was to find that ability was only one part of the job description, a small part. What he wanted was someone that looked good trotting one step behind him as he headed for the courtroom for his big case, and the primed and waiting media. The TV cameras were instructed to include me in the approach shots and occasionally during the interview itself. It was all a part of the show."

"But he has a reputation for winning cases, he can't do that on appearances." I said.

"You're so right. But all of the preparation work is done by the Junior Counsel. All that he has to do is to familiarise himself with the relevant details of the case beforehand and rehearse his delivery. Even in court, my job was to listen to every argument that the Prosecutor presents, search for counter arguments, page mark the precedents in the Law books so that he can put his finger on them as required. I did all the hard work and he got all the glory. And then he hit on me." I knew it. I was just about to open my stupid mouth.

"You of course rejected him." Maggie got in before me, not that I was going to say that.

"Of course. I told him in no uncertain terms that our relationship was strictly a work relationship, and that I would not countenance any deviation from that. It did not go down well, I don't think that he was used to rejection. I did a little digging and found that, in his previous job, he had a series of affairs with female Juniors, he definitely wasn't gay or bi, and that there had been complaints. The Principals did nothing, they were too scared to take on the fabulous Christopher Rollison in court, he would have crucified them, or so they thought."

"So what did you do? I asked.

"I did what I do best, I prepared a watertight case for sexual harassment against him and went to see the Senior Partners. They had already suspected that there was something going on between us, but like you, they had it all wrong. They were surprised when I presented them with my case and told them what I was going to do. The evidence was a fall-back position in case my plans went pear-shaped."

"What was your plan?" I asked.

"Because everything about him was about appearance, I had to make him look bad in front of an audience."

Sylvie had our undivided attention as she began her story.

We had left the office and were heading for the courtroom. "Is there anything about this case that I should know?" Rollison asked.

"You have your notes, but it's pretty much open and shut. The police have charged your client with assault. The victim has claimed that your client turned on her when something that she was supposed to have done was wrong and it made him look bad. He turned on her and subjected her to verbal abuse before slapping her. This was all done in front of several witnesses. The witnesses all corroborate her version of the story, but then they would, they were all her friends. Your client claims that the abuse never took place and that he was nowhere near where this was supposed to have taken place at the time. We have witnesses to back him up."

We were confronted by the usual media scrum at the entrance to the court building. "My client has pleaded not guilty because he is completely innocent of the charges laid against him. He will walk from this court a free man." There was no doubting his confidence. He smiled at the media as we swept into the courtroom.

All went well for about five minutes until it came time for him to cross examine the police witness. "Tell me Sergeant Robinson, when you first approached the victim, what was he doing?"

"What do you mean?"

"I would have thought that the question was straight forward enough for you to understand. What was he doing?"

"What was who doing?"

"The victim, James Wilson."

"The victim's name is Stephanie Rogers."

Christopher looked at his papers in horror, they were for the wrong case. "What the fuck is this?" he hissed at me.

"They're the papers you asked for."

"No they're not, these are the wrong files you stupid bitch, can't you get anything right."

"They are the files you asked for. See here is your request." I pointed to the message slip attached to the files that clearly identified them as the ones that he requested for this case.

"These are not the files I wanted."

"They are what you asked for. I was curious as to why you wanted these, seeing as how they are the wrong ones."

"If you thought that they were wrong, why didn't you say something?"

"I tried, but you were too busy being the star to take notice of what I said."

The Magistrate banged his gavel a couple of times. "Children, children, what is happening here?"

"My Associate has given me the wrong files. I ask for a short adjournment while she goes and gets the right ones." He stared at me and stressed the 'goes and gets the right ones'.

"It's not my fault that you requested the wrong files."

"How dare you talk to me like that." He was back to hissing at me.

"It matters little to me whose fault it is," the Magistrate said, "the fact of the matter is that you came into my court totally unprepared to conduct your case. This trial has been postponed on a number of occasions and I don't feel that the victim should wait any longer for a resolution because of your incompetence. I find your client is guilty as charged."

"You can't do that! I demand a continuance."

"You demand a continuance, on what grounds?"

"That my client was not allowed a fair trial."

"And this was the fault of this court? Pray tell me how this court was at fault."

"I'll move to have this declared a mistrial."

"I think that you should consult your Law books Mister Rollison, A mistrial happens when the presiding magistrate either misdirects a jury, or makes a decision that is totally at odds with the evidence presented. Neither of these situations applies to this trial. I can't help it if you have the wrong files, and I don't really care who is at fault, but to me it is the obligation of the senior Counsel to make certain that he is in possession of the right files before he gets into court. End of story. Clerk, what is the next case."

Rollison stormed out of the court, leaving me to grab the files. "Sorry about that," I said to our unhappy client, "We'll file an appeal as soon as possible."

"I don't understand, what has happened here?"

"There has been a mix up, don't worry, I'll sort it out. I'll be in touch with you as soon as I know what our next step will be."

"I don't think that I want him as my Counsel."

"We'll discuss it later. I'd better get back to the office and face the music."

The music that I was to face was not some adagio movement of a symphony, it was gangsta in its sentiment and delivery. "How dare you make me look a fool in court! What do you mean when you say that I requested those files? You should have made sure that I had the correct files before we even left the office! I didn't drag you out of the typing pool to have you fuck up like this! It's not you that was made to look the fool there! How do you think that made me look? I'll tell you how, it made me look, incompetent, you made me look incompetent! Clients pay a lot of money to have me represent them in court, and it only takes one fuck up like this to fuck up my reputation. I am the star in this law practise, not you, and you'd better get that through your thick skull, it's me that clients want! You had better pack up your things, because you no longer have a job here! You are through here and everywhere else! You'll never work in this profession again, NEVER! DO YOU HEAR ME, NEVER!"

"Are you quite finished?" I said in my sweetest voice.

"NO, I AM NOT FINISHED! I AM GOING TO SEE MATHESON AND HAVE YOU FIRED FOR INCOMPETENCE AND INSUBORDINATION! BY THE TIME I'M FINISHED YOU WILL WISH THAT YOU NEVER MET ME!"

"Oh, I wished that months ago. About the time that you began to molest me."

"What? What the fuck are you talking about?"

"You made inappropriate contact with me. At first it was your hand on my shoulder when we were discussing some matters, then it was the touching of my cheek. I was uncomfortable with the nature of your contact and, if you remember what happened, I removed your hand, you would have realised that. But no, it continued and got worse. I was supposed to be flattered by your attention, I was supposed to succumb to your attention. I loathed it when you touched me, it made my flesh crawl. There is only one man that I allow to touch me in that way, and that is my husband Sam. The only reason why I haven't told him of this is that he would come down here and punch your lights out and you would have him in court on assault charges. While I would have loved to see that, I just couldn't have him arrested over your sleazy behaviour. Now, do you really want to go and speak to Mister Matheson about what happened this morning? I think not, because he is aware of your actions towards me, complete with CCTV images that back up my story one hundred percent. Actually, if you turn around, you will see Mister Matheson coming towards us."

Matheson entered the office and handed Rollison an envelop.

"What's this?" Rollison said as he tore the envelop open and extracted the paper.

"That is your dismissal notice. You will remove yourself and your paraphernalia from this building immediately."

"You will hear more of this, you can't do this to me!"

"If you decide, and I strongly advise against it, to take this matter further, charges of sexual harassment will be brought against you and, on the evidence that we will present to the court, you will spend some time behind bars. And you know what happens to sex offenders behind bars, don't you?"

He stormed out and I thought that would be the end of it, I was wrong. He followed me around. Everywhere I looked there he was, lurking in the background. I took out a restraining order, but that didn't make any difference. It came to a head when he tried to run me down. If it wasn't for the actions of a man, who saw what was about to happen and crash tackled me onto the footpath, he would have succeeded. He is behind bars awaiting charges of attempted murder. It's what they say, 'the bigger the ego, the louder the thump when it crashes to earth.' He thought that he was above the law."

"Wow! And all of this happened while I was away? I was right to worry about you, but for all the wrong reasons. When I left here a week ago, I felt that it would be the last time that we would say good-bye to each other. Scarily I was almost right." We kissed, "You are one amazing woman." I told her between that kiss and the next. "Here I was having these irrational thoughts about you and him, and how I'd never see you again, and you were nvolved in destroying the person that I thought that you were having an affair with." Another kiss.