Make It Legal

Emsworth, Hampshire – April 1976

“Miss Snow, great to meet you again … at long last … Chris Lark … I hope you remember me?”

“I certainly do,” I replied, as, vigorously, we shook hands, “And yes you’re right, at long last … it seems an age since my interview … oh … and please … call me Sarah …” He wore a strong spicy cologne, something that I recognised, something that I knew I’d smelt before. Ah yes, it came flooding back to me, “Hai Karate!” A favourite of my brother, Tom. There was something else as well, an underlying smell that at the moment I couldn’t identify.

He smiled, “Okay Sarah it is, welcome to Lark & Meadows, Solicitors, I hope you’ll be very happy here. Did you have a good move?”

“Fantastic, thank you …”

I’d just moved from the small town of Cobby in the North of England to Emsworth in Hampshire and, at the moment, felt as if I was on a different planet. Yeah … alien Sarah Snow … welcome to Planet Emsworth! That’s what you get for barely setting foot outside your home town until just past your milestone birthday of thirty. Words of the David Bowie song “Life on Mars” ran through my mind, “It’s a God-awful small affair, to the girl with the mousy hair …” yep, that was me, the girl with the mousy hair, here on Mars to transform herself into something wonderful.

I followed Chris Lark’s broad back, dark grey jacket straining across his shoulders, through the green carpeted entrance way, past a young girl struggling on the reception desk with the switchboard, red and green lights flashing like crazy, and into his spacious sunny office.

Memories of being interviewed in this room came back to me as I gazed around, for some strange reason really pleased to be back. Everything seemed so familiar, from the dark wood desk to the metal filing cabinet and even the pub mirror that hung on the wall, the words Martini written on its smooth surface in thick red letters. The building was old, the interior made up of a mixture of rooms, some large, some small, interconnected with stone steps leading up and down. There was a lot of intriguing little nooks and crannies, ideal for a game of hide and seek, or, in fact, just the sort of house that could be used in a low budget horror film where the bad man breaks in and gradually annihilates everybody until there’s only one left.

Originally a family home, it teetered on a stony outcrop of rock overhanging the harbour walls where below boats bobbed and swayed on a glassy green sea, seagulls’ squawking and dive bombing the bins for tasty titbits. The front door led straight down steep stone steps into the town, shops and pubs flanking the paths like sentries. At the back there was an enclosed garden, and a small client car park, surrounded by a high brick wall, its patch of grass untidy and daffodils like golden lights struggling to bloom in the weedy borders. This office looked out over the harbour and I could just about see from the window the morning sunlight radiating in a lemon hue from behind banked clouds and sparkling on the water.

“Please sit down,” he said as he waved me to a chair opposite his own. “I’ll ask Donna to make coffee …” I watched him as he made his request into the telephone, and marvelled at his smooth handsome face with sea green eyes that twinkled in a sudden burst of sunlight that pooled through the window. He had floppy blonde hair that curled onto his shoulders making him look more like a musician in a rock band than a solicitor in a prestigious up and coming law firm. Taking a furtive glance around, I noticed a couple of black and white framed photos on his desk. One, a head and shoulders model pose, of a very pretty woman, and the other of two cute looking kids, both with cheeky expressions and floppy blonde hair just like their Dad.

Following my gaze he said, “My wife, Delia, and my kids, twins, Lisa and Rob, they’re three. If you’re about to comment on how mischievous they look … well they are …”

I smiled and said, “I don’t know about mischievous but they look very cute.”

He grinned and, nodding his head sagely, said, “Yeah they’re that too … which makes it very difficult to tell them off when they’re mischievous … so, because I can’t bring myself to tell them off, they’re mischievous again, and cute again, and so it goes on and on …” He widened his eyes and gave a short bark of laughter at which I giggled as he said, “Once we’ve had coffee, I’ll show you to your office, which you’ll share with Donna, my Secretary, and then I’ll introduce you to Jake, your boss …”

“Ah yes,” I said, “Mr Meadows … “

“Yes, unfortunately he wasn’t available when you came for interview … he was away at a conference, that’s why the manager of our Portsmouth office, Caroline Lomax, was here that day.”

“Yes, I remember her … “

Chris smiled and said, “Well, Mr Meadows, Jake, is longing to meet you …”

There was a discreet tap on the door and a woman came in backwards, opening the door with her rear, carrying a tray bearing cups and saucers, coffee pot, milk and sugar. I got the impression of somebody tall and thin (until I saw that she wore trendy platform shoes), with glossy black hair cut in the new very popular “Purdey” style. Look out Joanna Lumley from the New Avengers, there’s clones of you everywhere. She wore thick black make-up around eyes that shone, bright blue as sapphires, from her face.

“Ah, Donna … thanks …” She put the tray down on the desk after making a space in amongst scattered papers and files, as Chris said, “This is Sarah … Jake’s new secretary …” She gave me a sideways look and a curt nod, “Pleased to meet you …” before turning around fully to face me, her extraordinary blue eyes, that made her look eerily sightless, boring into mine, “I’ve been intrigued by your name … Sarah Snow … sounds so twee, like a character dreamed up by Enid Blyton for one of her books.” I gave a gaspy sort of laugh, stunned at what she’d just said. After all I’d only just met her and for all she knew, I might be deeply offended.

She turned her face towards Chris, her profile showing a sharp tip tilted nose, “I can just see the title of the book.” She put up both hands, palms forward, tipped her head to one side as if she was thinking deeply, “The Adventures of Sarah Snow,” or no, better still, “Naughty Sarah Snow.” She gave a little tinkly laugh like a chiming bell as she walked towards the door and stood, her hand firmly on the handle, poised, ready to leave, a sort of self-satisfied smirk on her face.

Looking straight at her, I replied, “Oh God, do you think so? I’d love to be one of Enid Blyton’s characters, she’s such a clever writer … thank you …” I gave a big beaming smile as I went to Chris’ desk and began to pour coffee into a cup, “Oh … by the way, thanks for the coffee …” I turned to Chris, “How do you like yours?” I heard the decisive click of the door as she left.

Chris slowly shook his head, “You’ll have to forgive Donna. I think she’s a bit put out at the moment with a new person starting … especially a woman. It’s been just me, Jake and Donna … oh and young Samantha on the reception for ages … since we set up the practice a little over a year ago … oh, um, white with two sugars please …”

Reeling from Donna’s uncalled for behaviour, I said, “Does she know nothing about expansion? And manners come to that!” I handed him his coffee before sitting back down and breathing in the pungent aroma of the thick black brew before taking a sip, “Whatever, she certainly knows how to make coffee …”

“Yeah, she knows about expansion,” And with a grin, “And yes, coffee too, and she’s known your starting date for ages, she just can’t help herself … a strange girl at times … a good worker though … looks like she’s got a case of the green eyed monster.” He gave a little chuckle and then said, “Well done on how you handled it. I wouldn’t have thought she’d have expected that!” He took a great gulp from his cup and said, “Um, that’s really good …”

I felt slightly uncomfortable at Chris talking about Donna to me in this way. After all he’d only just me met me, yet Donna had been working for him and I presumed Jake, for a year now. I felt he was being a touch disloyal but didn’t say anything, just carried on sipping at my coffee when suddenly there was a tap on the door and somebody peeked in, somebody with a head of wild dark curly hair framing a thin face set with high cheekbones and eyes, dark and glistening as the coffee I was drinking, “Hi …”

“Ah, Jake, come and meet Sarah, your Secretary … Sarah, Jake …”

He was very tall and stooped a little as he leaned forward to shake my hand. His grip was firm and tight, and warm and a frisson of electricity shot through me making me catch my breath. “Good to meet you, Sarah … sorry but I couldn’t wait any longer … I had to see Sarah Snow with my very own eyes …”He smiled, full lips stretching back to reveal white teeth. A sexy stubble hid the smooth skin on his cheeks and his chin.

“An interesting name,” he said, before pulling up a chair next to me and helping himself to coffee. He wore a smart black suit and a white shirt open at the neck from where I could see a silver cross dangling on a chain amongst a mat of dark hair.

“Hmm, yes, my name seems to be causing a lot of attention today,” I said brightly, “I’m aware that it’s a bit quirky but I’ve just been told that it sounds like a character from an Enid Blyton book …”

“Really?” he said, taking little sips of the dark brew and wincing a bit as if it had burnt his tongue, “By who?” He looked at me enquiringly with those deep dark eyes.

“Who do you think?” asked Chris.

He shrugged easily, “Donna?”

Chris nodded as Jake slunk back on his chair, one ankle crossed over his knee, his coffee cup balanced on his thigh. He shook his head, “She can be rude when she wants to be … maybe you should have a word Chris?”

“Oh no,” I butted in, sitting forward on my chair, “Please don’t say anything to her, we have to work together you know, and I wouldn’t want to be a snitch on my first day … or on any day come to that …”

Chris nodded as if he agreed wholeheartedly but Jake said with a wry twist to his mouth, “I know something of how you feel, Sarah, my Mum’s maiden name was Buckle, and as Susan Buckle, she got teased a lot I can tell you …”

“Oh wow,” I replied, “Yeah, I get that, I’m sure Donna would think that name was twee as well … like “one, two, buckle my shoe?”

He nodded and grinned, “Yeah, exactly. Even so, something should be said really, otherwise she’ll think it’s okay to speak to you like that …”

“No,” I replied, “Please … I’d rather nothing was said. I answered back in a sort of jokey way, so she knows I can stick up for myself …” I stood up to put my now empty cup back on Chris’s desk when the phone rang.

“Chris Lark … “He glanced at his watch. “Oh, okay, Samantha, seat them in reception and I’ll give you a shout when I’m ready for them to come in … “ Replacing the receiver he said, “I’ve got Mr and Mrs Watkins here to sign some papers for the sale of their house … Jake, could you show Sarah to her office?”

“Yeah, of course I can.” Jake uncurled himself from his chair and put his empty cup on the desk.

Chris turned to me, “Sorry Sarah, I’ll catch up with you later if that’s okay.”

I nodded towards him but he was already standing at the filing cabinet, searching through, no doubt for the client’s file. Surely Donna should have had all that ready for him! As his secretary, she should have met the clients in reception as well. That’s why busy men like Chris and Jake had secretaries, to make their working lives run as smooth and trouble free as possible!

I followed Jake’s long narrow back, although for such a lean man, his shoulders were surprisingly broad, from Chris’s office, through the reception area where the young girl, Samantha, was still wrestling with the switchboard. The couple who had come to see Chris, Mr and Mrs Watkins, were sitting on hard chairs staring into space, as we walked past and up a flight of wide curving steps and onto the second floor.

“Wow,” I said, “This is certainly a fantastic property for your practice … a brilliant location … “

“Yeah,” replied Jake, as we walked along a long dim corridor, past several closed doors, and towards a long thin window set with the most beautiful stained glass through which sunlight beamed throwing lozenges of coloured light onto the fawn carpet. “We were lucky to get this … I got it at a knock down price … and it’s great because there’s plenty of scope for expansion …”

“Oh,” I replied, as we reached a door propped open by a large metal black cat door stop, “I assumed it was Chris’s place …”

“Why?” said Jake frowning.

“Well, the name, with it being your practice, your name should go first … so it should be “Meadows & Lark,” and not the other way around.

“Oh yeah, I see what you mean, and yeah, I suppose you’re right, but we just went for alphabetical order …”

I nodded as if I understood perfectly although it seemed a bit odd to me and, even though I knew I was being a bit cheeky, I asked him, “How come you got the place cheaper?”

“Oh, nothing for you to worry about,” he replied, giving a shrug, and saying casually, “Just something about the place being haunted … but you can say that about any place that’s old can’t you?”

“Haunted?” I said. I stopped abruptly on the corridor outside the open door from where I could hear clearly the sound of manic typing. “I wasn’t told that when I came for the interview!”

Standing nonchalantly, his hands in his pockets, Jake said, “Yeah, that’s what the seller said, but in the year we’ve been here, I’ve never seen a thing!” He gazed at me with his coal black eyes. “Hey, don’t worry, it’s all a load of rubbish … and even if you had been told at interview, would it have put you off taking the job?”

“Um,” I thought about it for a minute or two, “I’m not sure, but letting you have the place cheaper … they were obviously wanting rid of it … there must be some reason for saying it’s haunted …”

I heard a tinkle of a laugh and, aware of somebody standing near me, looked around straight into Donna’s bright blue gaze. “Now, don’t you be frightening Sarah Snow with talk of ghosts and Ghoulies, Jake, “she said. She stood in the doorway, her arms crossed over a bony chest, a smirk on her face (or was that just her normal expression?)

“Welcome to the office,” she said, standing back into the room and spreading her arms wide, “This is your desk, Sarah Snow …” She pointed to a desk situated under the window, an Underwood typewriter took up most of the space on its dark wood surface, but there were in and out filing trays and a smart Rolodex crammed full of cards containing, I hoped, names and addresses and phone numbers of clients and contacts. I put my bag down beside the desk and shrugged off my coat and hung it neatly on a wooden coat stand that stood against the wall next to a couple of metal filing cabinets.

It was a big bright room with plenty of light coming through the large arched window and a lot of space for two people, although Donna’s side was messy, her desk covered with papers and documents and several dirty coffee cups. Boxes of paper and folders, Sellotape, paper clips and drawing pins were piled on the floor enclosing her desk like a barricade instead of being put away in a cupboard. Hmm, I could see that some tidying needed to be done, whatever Donna might say to that.

“I don’t believe in all that stuff about ghosts,” said Jake, “So I’m certainly not trying to frighten Sarah with it … merely pointing out what the sellers told me when I bought the place …”

“It’s her across there that you need to be wary of,” said Donna, nodding with her head towards the window behind my desk, “And she certainly isn’t a ghost!” Frowning, we both looked at her. “The old witch that lives in the house over there … she’s always ringing up saying that she can see right into the windows here and making complaints about all the “things” she can see … “ She raised both index fingers as she said the word “things.”

“She’s an old lady,” said Jake, moving over to the window and gazing out, “She doesn’t mean any harm …”

“Well, why is she always ringing up and moaning then?” snapped Donna.

“Where does she live?” I asked as I went to stand beside Jake.

“There … look …” he pointed with a finger. I was so disorientated with the movements that we’d taken around the building, that I wasn’t sure what I would see when I looked out of the window. Would there be a sea view or would I be able to see the garden in all its April glory.

“Unfortunately, you haven’t got a room with a view … well a sea view anyway,” said Jake as we both looked down onto the garden and the car park, and a couple of cars, a dark green Renault and a yellow mini. Daffodils like patches of gold in the borders swayed and bobbed in a freshening sea breeze, a strong breeze that swept fluffy grey clouds over the sun at regular intervals as if pushed by an invisible hand. Following Jake’s pointing finger, I saw just beyond the garden’s high stone wall, a large red brick house, its windows like dark eyes, facing towards us. Lit crimson by the rays of the sun, it looked as if it was on fire.

“What on earth is she able to see?” I asked, “Just you, Donna, sitting at your typewriter?”

“Oh of course that wouldn’t be interesting enough for you, would it, Sarah Snow?”

“Oh don’t be silly,” I said, “I didn’t mean it in that way … just simply, why would she complain about seeing you sitting in here getting on with your work? It makes no sense …”

“I don’t know,” she snapped as she flounced to her desk and sitting down, began viciously pounding at her typewriter. My heart sank at Donna’s behaviour and fervently hoped that it wasn’t going to interfere with how I carried out my job. I’d had a good feeling about this place and hoped I would be able to work here for a long time … I didn’t think I could bear anybody spoiling it for me.

Jake moved away from the window and, glancing at his watch, declared that he had to go, he had a case in court in a couple of hours and needed to prepare. “Sarah, when I attend court in the future, perhaps you’d like to go with me? I’d like you to get used to court behaviour and protocol in case there’s ever a reason I can’t attend … you know, if I’m ill or …” He shrugged, “Whatever …”

“Of course,” I said, my heart pounding at the thought of attending court with Jake because, while not classically good looking, there was something about him that was giving me butterflies unless of course I’d mistaken it for the fact that I hadn’t eaten for a few hours and it was hunger pangs. It seemed ages since I’d had breakfast and my stomach was feeling decidedly empty and gurgly. But then again, no, the more I looked at him, the more I realised that it wasn’t hunger pangs at all.

He smiled and said, “Don’t look so worried, I don’t mean just yet … I know you need time to settle in first … oh, before I go, I’ll bring you some work to do. There’s plenty. In the meantime, the kitchen’s next door. Make yourself a drink, get yourself something to eat if you need to.”

“Oh no,” I thought, “Why is he suggesting that I eat? I had the awful feeling that he might have heard my stomach rumble! How embarrassing …”

“Donna will show you the ropes.” He stared at her but she didn’t look up, just kept pounding on that poor keyboard as if her life depended on it, “Won’t you Donna?”

“Yeah, okay, I suppose so …” she sighed.

He gave what looked like a sad disgusted shake of his head and then, cupping my shoulder hard with his hand, hurried out to prepare for his case in court. I felt strangely bereft when he’d gone, his sheer physical presence had made me feel comforted somehow, as if I wasn’t alone, and now I was out there, out in the wild, prone to an attack. Donna had stopped typing and the room fell strangely quiet as I sat down at my desk and began to look in the drawers which were empty and bare, ready for me to put my belongings into. Curiously, I glanced through the Rolodex which I was pleased to see did contain a lot of information about clients and contacts.

Suddenly she spoke into the silence, “Well go on, Sarah Snow, Jake told you where the kitchen is, why don’t you go and put the kettle on … mine’s white with one sugar …” She stared at me challengingly with her bright blue eyes.

Making up my mind and keeping up with what I’d told Chris and Jake earlier about sticking up for myself, I fixed her with an icy stare and opened my mouth to speak.