Again, some more 'Sanctuary' scenes here, which I don't own. I make no apologies for adding and changing things for my own purposes, including the time line. I hope you enjoy the chapter and please review if you can!
Thank you to everyone still reading :)
One week later
The law library was surprisingly busy, but luckily Ben had been able to find a quiet table for he and Claire to do some research into Shambala's latest ludicrous idea regarding the Roberts case. After talking with Adam about arraigning Carina Roberts in the hope of pulling her grandson out of hiding, the older man had decided that it wasn't in fact the best course of action and had instructed Ben to release her and put a tap on her phone, in the hope that Isaac would contact her. He hadn't, but through other means the police had managed to track him down to a local church where, upon arriving to arrest him, they had been told by Reverend Ott that he was being given sanctuary there. He could still remember the slightly smug look on Shambala's face when she had personally delivered the motion to his office and confidently told him that she was going to tie him up in litigation for at least the next ten years.
"You've got to admire her creativity," Claire commented wryly, flicking through the pages of one of the law journals.
"Shambala Green's?" He replied drily. "Queen of the specious motion."
"She's representing her client with the zealousness required by the canons and I'm sure she thinks we should have exhibited a little more of it in prosecuting Joshua Berger."
Ben took off his glasses. "You can't compare what Joshua Berger did with what Isaac Roberts did."
"Of course not, but suppose this crazy motion actually works," Claire said "and a judge buys Green's argument."
"Would you drag an innocent man out of a car and bash his brains in?" Ben asked, incredulous at the direction the conversation was taking.
"You know, I don't know how I'd react if I'd been screwed by the system my whole life."
Ben stared at her for a long moment, then turned back to the book in front of him. Sometimes it felt as though the whole world had gone mad. "It's not an excuse."
"I know." Claire paused. "Look...I know it's none of my business but, well, I talked to Peter last week when I was bringing him back from court and...he was pretty upset." Ben looked up. "He told me about you and Evelyn and I wanted to say that I was sorry."
"What did he say?" he asked sharply.
"Just that she had moved out...and something about her moving to England? Like I said, it isn't any of my business but...if you need to talk..."
"I don't," he cut her off. "What I need to do, is focus on this case and how we're going to win this motion hearing tomorrow."
"Sure," Claire turned back to the book in front of her and instantly, he felt bad again for cutting her down. It had been over a week since Evelyn had left, since he had seen her or talked to her, and somehow it wasn't getting any better. "You know, if Shambala is intending to rely on any recent cases..."
"Peter's angry," he said, almost surprised at the sound of his own voice. "He doesn't say much to me, but he is. Pamela's been more emotional about it. She and Evelyn were close and...sometimes it's hard to know what to say to them."
"I can imagine, especially after everything that happened with their mother."
"They're going to stay with her this weekend. I haven't said anything to her about it but I suppose I should..." he trailed off, thinking about Laura and how it almost seemed disloyal to Evelyn to involve his ex-wife in their private affairs. But then, if she was leaving, he didn't really have any loyalty to her anymore and the kids would need someone that they could turn to, someone who didn't want to shut them down the minute they mentioned Evelyn's name.
"If I can do anything," Claire said, breaking into thoughts, "you only have to ask."
"Thanks," he said, smiling gratefully at her. "I appreciate that and there is something that you can do for me."
"Name it."
"You can help me win this case."
XXXX
"Sorry I'm late," Shambala apologised, slipping into the booth opposite Evelyn. "I see you started without me."
"I've only had the one," Evelyn replied, pushing her empty wine glass to the edge of the table and signalling the waitress for another round. "Another large white wine please and..."
"Just a club soda for me, thanks," Shambala replied. "I need to keep a clear head for tomorrow."
"Of course...sanctuary. It's certainly an original idea."
"I like to think so. You should have seen Ben's face when he read the motion. I think he thought it was April Fools come early."
Evelyn winced slightly at the mention of his name, but ploughed on regardless. "You think you can win?"
"Well if I don't, I have a pretty good back up plan."
"Which is what?"
"Evelyn..." Shambala took a drink from the glass the waitress placed in front of her. "I didn't suggest that we come for a drink to talk shop."
Evelyn looked down at the table top. "Right...you wanted to talk about how you think my idea of going to England is a bad one."
"I think it's misguided, yes. By all means if you really feel you need to end your relationship with Ben then move out of the apartment and call it a day, but don't take yourself half way around the world..."
"It's hardly halfway around the world!"
"It might as well be. I mean, what do you even know about London? You don't know anything about what it's like to live there."
"I've heard it's not that different from here," Evelyn quipped.
"You don't know anything about the culture..."
"Shambala, it's England not Iran."
"Honestly, I think you're making a huge mistake."
"Well don't sit on the fence about it!"
Shambala sighed heavily, "Why are you doing this? Why do you think that leaving New York is the answer to all your problems when you could just move around the corner?"
Evelyn paused before replying. She felt weary. Weary of trying to explain why she felt the way she did. Weary of trying to convince other people that what she was doing wasn't crazy. Weary of knowing that even when she did explain, they still didn't get it. "Because everything bad that has ever happened to me has happened to me right here. My father died, I married Eddie, he abused me, cheated on me, I got shot, I lost my baby..." she paused as the sound of a gunshot rang in her head, the way it always did when she thought about that night. "Every time I come around a corner I think I might suddenly bump into Eddie's son and...I just feel as though I need to start again somewhere new."
"So move to New Jersey!"
"You don't get it," Evelyn sighed. "Nobody gets it and whilst I understand why nobody gets it, that's part of the reason why I feel I need to leave."
"Because you're going to magically find all these people in London who will get it?" Shambala eyed her.
"No, because nobody will know who I am. Nobody will have any expectations of who I should be or how I should act."
"Who has expectations of you?"
"Ben does," she snapped, then immediately felt bad in the silence that followed. Despite her reasoning, she had no wish to paint Ben as being in the wrong.
Shambala let out a long breath. "Apart from your cousin and her family, do you know anyone else who actually lives there?"
"No..."
"So you're going to be leaving behind all your family and friends..."
"Friends?" Evelyn interrupted her. "That would be you and...who exactly?"
"You're friends with Claire Kincaid, aren't you? And Jack McCoy?"
"They were work colleagues. I don't know if I would actually call them friends."
"And what about your mother?"
"She wants me to go! She keeps telling me that she thinks it would be good for me to spread my wings and...and seize a new opportunity." Evelyn shook her head, thinking back to how enthusiastic Susan had really been about the whole thing, surprisingly so. Every other day she asked if Evelyn had heard anything about her visa, to the extent that she was beginning to think her mother really did want rid of her.
"And Ben? And the kids?" Shambala asked softly.
A lump rose in Evelyn's throat and she forced it down with a generous helping from her wine glass. "I don't want to hurt them...any of them. I love Ben and the kids..."
"If you love them, then why are you going so far away from them?"
"I already told you!" Evelyn snapped, signalling to the waitress again and asking for another glass. "Do you really want me to keep going over and over it? My reasons aren't going to change, Shambala! Ben and I want different things and, like I said, I can't stay here."
The other woman said nothing until a third glass of wine had been placed on the table. "When did this start?"
"When did what start?"
"The drinking."
"Oh please..." Evelyn scoffed. "So I'm having a few glasses of wine on a Thursday night, what's wrong with that? It hardly qualifies me for AA membership." She took another long drink, enjoying the slightly light headed feeling that came with it.
"What is it your cousin does anyway?" Shambala asked, draining her own glass.
"She runs a marketing company."
"So you wouldn't even be practicing law then."
"No."
"Well..." Shambala lifted her bag from the seat beside her. "It sounds like you have it all figured out."
"You're going?" Evelyn asked, surprised at how short the conversation had ultimately been. Despite not being particularly receptive to it in the first place it had, on some level, felt reassuring to have someone allegedly impartial to talk to. "Don't you want another club soda?"
"No, I've still got some work to do before tomorrow's hearing and, besides, I get the feeling that anything else I might have to say would be wasted on you."
"Please, don't be like that."
"You know, friends...true friends...are always there for each other no matter what. No matter if they do think one of them is making a mistake," Shambala said, taking out some money and leaving it on the table. "I like to think that we're friends, Evelyn, so when London all comes crashing down about your ears, I'll still be there for you to talk to."
"It won't," Evelyn replied.
Shambala smiled tightly, "I'm sure you're right." Then she walked to the door of the bar and disappeared into the night.
Evelyn watched her go, feeling even more wretched than she had before. Quickly, she finished the remains of her wine, added some more money to the pile and then shakily got to her feet, the effects of the alcohol hitting her quickly. She swayed slightly as she reached for her coat and stumbled back a few paces as she tried to find the arm hole.
"Here, allow me." She started suddenly and turned to see a man she didn't recognise standing behind her, a friendly smile on his face, his hand outstretched for her coat. Wordlessly, she allowed him to help her slip it on and then turned around to thank him. "I was thinking about heading to another bar just down the street," he said. "Would you like to join me?"
"Uh...no, thank you," Evelyn replied. "I'm just going to head home." She took a step forward and walked into a nearby table.
"Oh dear," the man laughed, "please let me help you."
"No, I'm fine," she insisted, pulling her arm away from him. "Just...just leave me alone." She hurried forward to the door and pushed it open, the cold evening air hitting her square in the lungs and causing her to place her hand on the wall to steady herself. "You're fine," she said aloud, though the words were meant for herself rather than anyone else. "You're absolutely fine."
XXXX
"The concept of sanctuary, since ancient and medieval times, is founded on the idea of a religious place of refuge for those who had offended civil authorities. I want to emphasise the importance of a church in a black community..."
"If counsel could please cite one post-medieval case," Ben interrupted, trying hard not to indicate too strongly to Judge Franks how much of a waste of time he considered Shambala's argument to be. Not because he didn't think the judge would agree, but more simply out of politeness.
"How's 1991, counsellor?" Shambala replied smugly. "A church, right here in Manhattan, was willing to provide refuge to military personnel in danger of deployment to the Middle East."
"Pending the determination of their status as conscientious objectors. Murder is a far cry from moral opposition to a war!" Ben exclaimed.
"In this case it's not. We are talking about civil disobedience. My client violently opposed the inequitable treatment of his race under the law."
"So he killed somebody?" Judge Franks said. "Nice try Ms Green but being that your client is not a hunchback ringing a bell within a parish cathedral, I'm denying your motion."
"If I lose at trial, you've just given me grounds for appeal," Shambala replied.
"Lucky for me I'll be in Palm Beach collecting social security if and when this nonsense should ever return to this courtroom. Are we finished here? Good." Judge Franks banged his gavel and rose from the bench.
Ben gathered up his papers and moved over to Shambala's table, undeniably relieved at the outcome. "Now are you willing to consider a plea?"
"I told you before," she said, "manslaughter two, he does the minimum."
"Manslaughter one is as low as I can go and your client should consider it a gift!"
"Oh really and what kind of gift would that be?"
"The kind where he doesn't end up doing a full twenty-five years to life for murder two!" Ben replied, his hackles rising again. "Now I'm prepared to go all the way with this."
"As am I," Shambala said, squaring up to him. "You have no idea what's coming, counsellor. You may have won this battle but you most certainly have not won the war."
"Shambala..."
"I spoke to Evelyn yesterday."
Ben paused, thrown slightly by her abrupt change of direction. "Well, you work together so I guess I would find it odd if you didn't speak to each other."
"I meant socially," Shambala replied, then paused. "I didn't like what I saw."
Ben frowned, "Meaning what, exactly?"
"Meaning you and I both know that her running off to London is not what's in her best interests right now, even if she thinks it is."
"So you're a psychiatrist now as well as an expert on racial justice?"
"I don't need to be." she glanced over his shoulder to where Claire was hovering. "When was the last time you talked to her?"
As much as he really didn't want to get in to a personal debate with a woman who, at the present moment, he wasn't sure he liked any more, Ben found himself irresistibly drawn into the conversation. "Not since the night she left."
"Well that's just typical. She told you she was going and you just stood back and let her walk away."
"Now, hold on a minute..."
"No, you hold on a minute. You need to do something, Ben. You need to do something before she gets that visa, gets on that plane and you never see her again," Shambala gathered up her own papers. "Because you and I both know that, otherwise, that's exactly what's going to happen."
XXXX
"I found you a flat?"
"A what?"
"A flat...an apartment," Sarah corrected herself. "It's really nice, in a lovely part of the city, not too far from the office...I think you'll like it."
Evelyn leaned back on the couch and looked at the ceiling. "I haven't had my visa approved yet."
"You will," Sarah replied breezily. "I'm sure of it. So sure in fact that I told the board today that you would be coming to work for us and I've asked that you be put on the payroll commencing April 1st."
Evelyn paused, "That's only three weeks away."
"So?"
"So, even if my visa is approved in that time..."
"Evelyn, once it's approved all you have to do is pack a few things and book a flight. It's not hard. I told you, I'll sort everything else for you at this end. You're not having second thoughts are you?"
"No."
"Are you sure?" Evelyn paused again. "Look, I know how you feel. You don't think I was terrified when I moved here? I thought it was the biggest mistake of my life but look at me now. I couldn't be happier and you will be too. I know it's hard, leaving people you care about behind but...well...if you and Ben can remain friends there's no reason why he and the kids couldn't come and visit you."
"Friends?" she echoed. "You really think we can be friends?"
"Well why not? Surely he must realise you're doing this because it's in your own best interests and his too. He must know that you're not happy." Evelyn said nothing. "You have spoken to him, haven't you?
"Not since the night I left the apartment."
"Well why not for God's sake?"
"Because..."
"Because what?"
"Because I don't really know what else to say to him," she replied. "I told him why I felt I needed to go and he didn't understand. He was upset..."
"Well of course he was upset," Sarah interrupted. "He found out through a letter he was never meant to see rather than from you directly."
"Thank you for once again pointing that out," Evelyn replied acerbically. When she had called Sarah after leaving the apartment to tell her what had happened, her cousin had chastised her for not being honest with Ben from the beginning and, now, her constant habit of bringing it up was starting to grate on her.
"Fine, I won't say any more about it," Sarah said. "Have you at least taken the rest of your things from his apartment?"
"No, not yet."
"The longer you leave it, the harder it's going to be."
Sarah's words rang in her ears long after she had eventually put the phone down. Glancing at the clock on her mother's wall, she saw that it was almost eight o'clock. In all likelihood, they would all be home. Ben, Peter, Pamela. It was the wrong time, completely the wrong time and yet...her cousin was right. The longer she left it, the worse it would be and there would be nothing more invasive than her sneaking in when she knew they wouldn't be there.
So, half an hour later, she found herself knocking on the apartment door, her heart pounding in her chest, almost hoping that there would be no answer. Instead, she heard muffled voices from inside and the door swung open and Peter's shocked face was in front of her.
"Hi," she said softly.
"Dad!" he shouted, then glared at her angrily. "Dad!"
"What is it?" Ben asked, suddenly appearing behind him, his expression moving from hope to acceptance to anger in the space of a few seconds. "Peter, go inside."
"But..."
"Just go," he instructed him. Peter moved back into the apartment and Ben came outside, closing the door behind him. "What do you want?"
"I..." she paused, hating the tone of his voice. "I thought I should come and collect the rest of my things."
"Now?"
"I'm sorry...I did think about coming when nobody was home but I thought that would be worse so..." she tried to maintain his gaze, but found it almost impossible. "It's just a few things. Some clothes and...and that sort of thing..." She could tell he was battling internally with himself, that he wanted to say something and couldn't quite bring himself to. Finally, after what seemed like forever, he opened the door and gestured for her to follow him inside.
Peter and Pamela were both sitting at the table and they watched, silently, as she came inside. "Hi," she said again. "I'm sorry to turn up like this. I just came to..."
"Your things are still in the bedroom," Ben interrupted and it was impossible not to take his meaning. Hurry up. Hurry up and get out of our lives.
Evelyn made her way into the bedroom and, trying to ignore the fact that he was standing in the doorway watching him, proceeded to pull her suitcase down from the top of the wardrobe and fill it with the clothes, shoes, bags and other things she hadn't been able to take with her before. When she was finished, she zipped up the case and then turned back to face him. "Thank you. I appreciate it."
"They're your things," he replied simply.
She took a deep breath, "Ben, I..."
"Don't," he put his hand up to stop her. "I can't...I can't talk to you right now about this. I don't care what Shambala thinks...I just can't."
"Shambala?" Evelyn asked. "You've been talking to Shambala?"
"She's opposing counsel in the Roberts case."
"I know, but that's not what I meant. You had a hearing with her today. Did she tell you about our conversation last night?"
He paused, "She might have mentioned something."
"What did she say?" she pressed.
"It doesn't matter."
"Ben..."
"I told you I can't talk to you right now," he looked at her again, his eyes hard and full of anger and pain. "If I do, the chances are I'll say something that I'll end up regretting for the rest of my life."
Evelyn swallowed hard against the lump in her throat, "Like how you really feel about me?" He didn't reply. "Well, then maybe it's best that you don't say anything." Lifting the case, she moved towards the door only for him to remain rooted to the spot in front of it. "Are you going to let me past?"
For a moment, he just looked at her then, eventually, he moved to the side, allowing her to leave the room and head back into the living room where the kids were still sitting watching. As she approached them, she saw Peter's arm slide protectively around his sister's shoulder. "I'm sorry," she said, her voice cracking slightly on the word. "I really am." Neither of them replied, so she moved over to the apartment door then suddenly stopped and turned, taking her keys out of her pocket and sliding one off the ring. She held it out to Ben, but he made no move to take it, so she leaned over and placed it down onto the side table before turning back to the door.
"Selfish bitch."
She didn't turn around. There was no need for her to see Peter's face. She could readily imagine the expression that would have accompanied the words. She turned the handle and pulled the door open, sliding the case out in front of her and then closed it behind her. For a moment, the briefest of moments, she waited. Waited for it to open again. Waited for Ben to come out. Waited for him to say what she knew he had wanted to say, what she knew she had to let him say.
Instead, she heard a familiar click as the door was locked behind her.