It’s a relief when Bernard claps his hands and Ava’s focus shifts towards him.
‘Alright,’ he says. ‘Now that you’ve got to know one another, it’s time for our third and main task. An exercise in legal thinking.’
‘Thank god,’ Amelia says, drawing laughter.
But Bernard takes it in his stride, reflecting the group’s smiles. He outlines the hypothetical case – a stockbroker pocketing clients’ money above and beyond his company’s stipulated rates of commission – and charges them with mounting a prosecution strategy. Jean pulls her chair closer to Ava’s, near enough that their knees brush and their hushed whispers will not be overheard.
Chapter Eleven
Once again, the world melts away. Only this time she and Ava are united by shared purpose, working together to analyse the scenario and assemble their response. Ava’s mind moves in different directions to Jean’s – she has a solicitor’s doggedness, and an eye for opportunity. Whereas Jean built her career talking round recalcitrant clients and superiors, planting her own ideas in the minds of others, Ava’s unswervingly direct. Yet instead of clashing, their styles complement one another perfectly. Not since her nights with Marianne, when the office became their domain, has Jean worked so seamlessly with an ally.
Anticipation builds in the pit of Jean’s stomach as Bernard goes round the teams, allowing them to present their strategy to the group. It hadn’t occurred to her that she’d end up caring so deeply about a moot of all things, standard fare back during her studies – but the thrill of outlining their plan is undeniable. She lets Ava take the lead; the whole point of this exercise is enabling growth in the blue tier. And a curious second-hand pride glows warm and unfamiliar in her chest as Ava hits her stride in outlining their rationale, methodology, and plan of action. Even Justice Hawthorne looks impressed by the time she’s finished.
And Jean’s not in the least bit surprised when Bernard declares them the winners, although Ava’s jaw drops.
She actually squeals when Bernard hands over the envelope with their prize: ‘Tickets for a musical about some of the greatest legal minds that ever lived.’
Jean doesn’t get the reference – musical theatre has never been her scene. She’d devouredWolf Hall, even gone to see the play with Imogen, but heard nothing of a musical about Cromwell, More, or any great Tudor statesmen. She casts her mind further back, doubting Cicero’s chances of appearing in the West End.
But Ava seems to understand, grinning so wide her cheeks dimple. Bernard shakes her hand as Ava babbles her thanks, and suggests dinner with Jean the following Wednesday. By the time she adds it to her diary, Ava’s excitement seems to have abated. She’s quiet as they make their way to the next session, subdued until Jean suggests they have lunch together.
Though her dark eyes flash with excitement, Ava watches her for a long moment before responding. ‘Are you sure?’
‘Positive. Rob asked me to hear out your proposal, and I’ll honour that commitment.’ The message could not be clearer:strictly business, nothing more.
Ava nods, tucking a rogue curl back into its pin. ‘That would be great. IthinkI’m on the right track, but I’ve never done anything like this before, and it would be useful to get your perspective.’
They find a quiet corner in the Scott room, Helen delivering the requested wraps for lunch and disappearing before Jean can invite her to stay. After all, there is nothing currently passing between her and Ava that could not be witnessed. Jean eats her crispy duck wrap while Ava talks, halting at first, growing surer as Jean’s attention does not waver. Though she’d picked up the gist of it from papers spread across Ava’s table, it’s another thing entirely, seeing Ava lit up with purpose; being entrusted with these plans, dearer to Ava than even the possibility of finding love.
Ava scarcely stops to take a bite as she explains the purpose of the Colourblind Justice Caucus, an organisation designed to provide affordable legal representation to underserved and overpoliced communities. Her aim of securing support from wealthier backers, and having firms donate time as well as money. Between grants, savings, and the backing of a Black British rapper, Ava has scraped together enough to make a fledgling start. But the first year will be crucial.
‘When do you plan on launching?’ Jean opens her calendar app, ready to mark the date.
‘The beginning of October,’ Ava says between bites – most of their lunch hour has melted away. ‘That way we get Black History Month buzz.’
‘Smart.’ Jean updates her calendar accordingly, performing a quick mental calculation. ‘A tight schedule with your current job, though.’
‘I’m leaving in July – that gives me two months of full-time preparation. And a holiday.’ Ava grins. ‘At least in theory.’
Jean’s mind flits to Ava’s not-quite joke of a weekend away together, but she banishes the thought instantly – that way lies madness. She recommends a list of barristers and firms likely to be sympathetic to Ava’s cause, along with companies and former clients in desperate need of good press. All the while Ava takes notes in her rapidly filling notebook.
‘I think it’s brilliant,’ Jean says, when Ava’s eyes are safely fixed on the page. ‘What you’re doing.’
Ava’s hand stills then, a pretty blush colouring her cheeks. ‘You do?’
‘Absolutely.’
‘Phew.’ Ava relaxes back into her seat. ‘I wasn’t sure what you’d make of it.’
‘Why not?’ It’s Jean’s turn to be uncertain – is it because she’s a white woman? Has she said or done anything that might cause Ava to believe her resistant to racial justice, or blind to structural inequalities? But the question had slipped out from between her lips before Jean had realised she might not want to hear the answer.
Ava half-shrugs. ‘It’s not going to be profitable. Aside from paying employees a fair salary, everything will go into the organisation. And there’s a chance we’re going to end up in the red if my funding applications for the next couple of years fall through.’
‘I’d be glad to help you with them,’ Jean says, meaning it. It’s only when Ava remains silent that the full implication hits her: she’s imagining a future, a year or more from now, when the two of them are still in contact. Jean gulps at her ice water.
After the conference, preparation for onboarding Hephaestia takes up the bulk of Jean’s days. Peter has her take point on this too, and Jean will not stumble during this first real test of her leadership. Still, unable to resist the excitement of DDH landing a whale like Leonides, he checks in often. So, it’s no surprise when Peter steps into her office one rainy afternoon, sushi and sparkling water in hand. But he doesn’t suggest lunch.
‘Helen,’ he says, ‘would you mind giving us the room?’
