Martha sits alone in the pub contemplating the next few days over a glass of wine. She's worked so hard over the years and yet she'll be spending Christmas alone in her flat, which recently has started to feel too big, with only the two letters after her name for company.
QC. Martha Costello QC. Those two letters had made her mum so proud, although her Grandad had joked that she still needed those other three letters in front of her first name and a different surname too! Martha normally laughed at these jokes, but she didn't really think she was the marrying kind. She could only see herself even considering marriage to one person and he didn't really seem the marrying kind either. Not that she wanted to marry him, did she? No, but if he asked, she wouldn't point blank refuse. It doesn't matter anyway, it's not like he's going to ask, it's not like we're even together She thought to herself.
How had her mind wandered so far? She returned her thoughts to the two people she was supposed to spend Christmas with, the two people who she had made so proud, yet she always felt they were a little disappointed that her personal life wasn't as successful as her career. She was supposed to drive back home to her mum's tonight, but after a long day in court, she couldn't face three hours on the motorway. She hadn't been sure the case would be finished by today and she would have enough time to get home to her Mum and Grandad and not arrive at stupid o'clock. Her Mum hadn't sounded too upset, she didn't think, when Martha had explained that she wouldn't be able to make Christmas and would spend it in London with friends. She reasoned with her Mum that she would be fine, this case was just too good to refuse and it made sense to do things this way. Looking out of the pub window, she watched tiny flakes of snow drift to the pavement and the white sheet of flakes that had covered the ground she walked on and most probably all of the ground in the country, if the weather forecast was to be believed. 'It wouldn't be very safe to drive on the roads,' she thought. The white sheet of snow would soon turn to black ice as dark as the night sky.
Where was he? Surely he wouldn't still be at the office? He wasn't there when she popped in after court to see Billy. Perhaps he had gone straight home, to pack perhaps, was he supposed to be going to his parents too, for Christmas? She couldn't remember if he'd told her or not. She hadn't really thought of anything but the case since it began, since she was handed the brief. Now all that mattered was that they had got the right result.
They normally had drinks together on Friday nights, just the two of them. Unless he had a date, which surprisingly had been a rarity recently, in fact Martha hadn't really seen him with anyone since that solicitor, the one who had dumped him for lying to her about doing more prosecution work. By prosecuting he had lost his girlfriend, but he soon gained something he had actually had to work for, not just something that fell into his lap, as it seemed women appeared to. He too had taken Silk and had those almost magic letters after his name.
She remembered the moment he told her 'I've done it Marth! I'm a QC' He held her in his arms so tightly, then looked deep into her eyes, smiling like an excited puppy, he leaned in towards her, he was going to kiss her, in the office, in their office, she was sure of it. 'That's Brilliant, I'm very proud, I knew you could do it.' She said, slightly panicking. Her mind began to race 'Do I want him to kiss me? Do I kiss him back? Oh shit!' Then suddenly the door swung open and they jumped apart in surprise. Billy. He really did have terrible timing. 'Champagne for my favourite people, my QCs, Golden boy here and Goldilocks herself, here you go! 'He handed them both a glass. 'You coming to the pub after these, so we can properly celebrate?' Martha had smiled, raised her glass and replied 'Of course! whilst trying to work out if she was relieved or disappointed.
It was weird of Billy to open the door at that exact moment, as if he knew what they were going to do, what was going to happen between them before they did. Although hardly surprising, Billy normally knew what Martha was doing even before she did, the same for his Golden boy. She was sure that Billy loved them both equally, as he was always telling them, but they were different. He, Golden boy, seemed to fit into the world they inhabited, seamlessly schmoozing solicitors and Judges and Clerks; perhaps that was just what he was used to. Whereas Martha had to fight to get where she was, she had fought to belong, she had fought with 'Blood, sweat and every other bit of Winston Churchill.' As he had once said when describing what she gave in every trial, to a client and later drunkenly to her. She always saw the spark in his eye and she knew that he thoroughly believed in what he did, but she never felt he had the same fire and determination, the same strive to fight that she did, which was probably just as well now he was prosecuting.
She couldn't wait to tell him about her trial, how she had contradicted witnesses and evidence and defended her client as if her life depended on it. After draining her wine glass, she looked at the door and there he was, covered in snow and looking for her. Clive. Clive Reader QC