"Court adjourned." The judge said as I shook my head.
This was the part I hated about being a solicitor—the delays. They could be for any reason—a new piece of evidence, an extension of time for the other party. It sucked. It sucked for my clients and for me. It had a domino effect on other clients.
"I pay you to fix this!" Mr. Harkin shouted at me as we walked.
"With all due respect, Mr. Harkin, I'm trying to keep you out of prison. I don't like adjournments either, but there is nothing we can do. Go home and be with your family."
Mr. Harkin was accused of fraud and cybercrime. He initially told me he was innocent, but as the evidence stacked against him, he had no choice but to tell me the truth.
My job in the case of a guilty client wasn't to prevent justice; it was to prevent unfair sentences from being handed out. A lot of people didn't see it that way; they saw my job as a means to help people escape paying the price for their crimes.
I sighed as I got into my car, slamming my fist against the steering wheel in frustration. With the Christmas holidays, Mr. Harkins's case would not be heard until early January, and this would give the PSNI a lot of room to find more evidence to convict him. My hopes of a work-free Christmas were slowly fading as I drove back to the office to collect my paperwork before it was locked for the holidays.
Once I had gathered my things together, I headed home. Bath and wine—this day calls for a bath and wine. This house was too big for me now, but I used to arrive home to the scent of Hannah, Alexa blasting through the rooms as she prepared dinner. Since Hannah had left, the house seemed oddly disproportionate to my needs.
The rain battered down on the roof, the wind rustled the trees, and a slight rumble could be heard as the garden furniture moved around the decking. I let my bath bomb loose, watching as the water fizzed and turned colourful. I must've laid in the bath for almost an hour, refilling it with hot water when it began to lose heat, engrossed in a crime novel.
As I noticed my skin beginning to wrinkle, I exited the bath and, once dry, slipped into my pyjamas. I headed for bed, walking with my head still firmly pressed into the book.
The following day, I travelled from my rural location to my dad's. He was a car salesman, specialising in luxury vehicles—the kind that only sold once a week at most but made him enough commission to live comfortably.
My parents split when I was 10; my brother and I spent the weekends with Dad and the weekdays with Mum. It was an amicable split; they didn't have a drama-fueled argument or a cheating scandal. They simply forgot how to love one another, and they taught us that it was okay to accept that some things aren't forever. That helped when Hannah left, did I mention she moved to New Zealand? Nah, she didn't mention she was going either.
My brother struggled with the breakup of our family; being 2 years older than me, he had a better understanding of what was going on. He refused to attend school, spent his youth breaking the hearts of teenage girls, and dropped out of school the minute he turned 16. I felt sorry for him; he had tried to turn his life around but fell for someone who believed success was measured by money, and when he failed to live up to those expectations, he was left out in the cold by his former girlfriend. He was given custody of his little girl for 8 hours every second Saturday; it became his favourite day of the week.
As I pulled up to my dad's house, my wipers were now on the highest setting. The wind blew my door wide open as I attempted to exit the car, and the cold immediately nipped at my fingertips. Breathing into my hands for warmth, I walked down the driveway and placed my key into the lock, noticing the door was already unlocked. I rolled my eyes as I entered the house.
"Dad! What have I told you about leaving the doors unlocked? It's not safe anymore!" I shouted through the house.
"We have guests; I didn't want them to think I was a serial killer."
As I entered the room, I noticed two people I'd never seen before, possibly a mother and daughter. The older of the two was sipping from a cup of tea, and the younger, roughly the same age as myself, was shyly smiling at me.
"Sorry, I didn't know you had company." I said, kissing my dad on the cheek as I headed to the chair beside the window.
"Customers. They arrived today to pick up a new car, but all transport has been grounded because of the storm, so now they can't get back."
"Welcome to Ireland!" I laughed.
"She's a nightmare for faces, Sophie; this is Leah. England captain? All over the news last year for her success?" My dad said, giving me the please don't say you don't know look.
"Oh! Sorry, as Dad said, I'm not very good with photographic memory. Congratulations."
"Hi." The younger of the two smiled.
"I'm Amanda, Leah's mum." The older of the two spoke.
"How did it go yesterday?" Dad asked.
"Adjourned."
"Should throw away the key." Dad muttered.
"Then who would pay for your care home?" I jibed back.
Dad began to tell the two stranded women my life story, speaking as if my career as a solicitor was anything in comparison to captaining my country.
"Will you get back before Christmas?" I asked, trying to sway the conversation away from potentially embarrassing stories.
"Hopefully, if this storm passes." Amanda replied.
"You still have tomorrow before the flights ground for Christmas Day, I suppose."
The arrival of Rhys broke the awkwardness in the room, allowing someone else to be the focus of attention. Something I didn't mind at all.
"Oh, here he is, better late than never!" I chuckled.
"It takes a while to do my hair." He joked, referencing his receding hairline.
Rhys was quickly introduced by Dad, his face beaming when he noticed that Leah was sitting on the sofa in front of him. I noticed how awkward she was, seeming to be uncomfortable with the recognition. It was something I rarely experienced with people who were deemed famous. Any celebrity clients I had taken on loved to be the focus of the room; they thrived on people wanting to know them.
Rhys and I left for our annual December 23rd shopping trip. As we battled through the storm to my car, I couldn't help but think of the girl I had just met. She intrigued me—what was it that made her so reserved, so normal? I shook my head, deciding that the last thing I needed was to invest my time into dissecting the motives of another, pulling out of my dad's driveway and heading for the local retail park with Rhys.