Part One Hundred and Sixteen
John looked at the reflection of himself in his mirror and glanced up and down. What looked back at him pleased him to survey his naturally debonair good looks. Although they were ageing slightly, his neatly cut, thick greying hair and intense blue eyes made him no less attractive to the opposite sex. This marked him out in the singles game as the archetypal Older Man. This was a role that he had slipped into unconsciously though, inside, his drives and feelings felt the same as his younger self, passionate for life in all its forms and this welling forth of energy kept him ahead of the game, ahead of his contemporaries and of the up and coming barristers. This little theatrical performance was as necessary to him as the moment in court when he slipped on his red judge's robes. The only difference between the two occasions was that he could choose his smartest dark suit not as a uniform but for the cut and feel of the cloth.
His thoughts of Karen in his mind's eye shifted back and forth in focus. At the furthest removed from him was far back in time at the start of the Atkins/Pilkinton trial when he had seen her in his chambers as a human being who was worthy of justice's compassion and of his sympathetic outrage that such a blatant cover up was committed against her…This distant image urged on him a measure of restraint on his natural libido. In the middle ground was the image of the highly capable and articulate wing governor whose mind and abilities commanded his respect. Close up was the vision of Karen's shapely legs and full bodied figure. Her long flowing mane of blond hair falling on her shoulders framed the challenging look in her blue eyes and the slight smile at the corners of her full lips. All this dissolved into a kaleidoscope of images of Karen so that his natural urges were unusually tempered by restraint and a sense of decorum.
He eased his steel grey convertible out into the London traffic and into the heart of London's Docklands and arrived outside the modern block of flats where Karen lived.
Karen greeted him effusively with a kiss on his cheek.
"Where are we going?"
"A table for two at the Ivy if that suits you."
"Sounds fine by me." It was not usual for her not to make the decisions in her life but after her interminable mental turmoil of the past few weeks, she wanted to let life flow and end up tonight where it took her. It gave her an enormous feeling of relaxation as, for a change, she got into the unaccustomed left-hand door and into the passenger seat. One look at the convertible told her that, not for John was it to be the sedate family saloon. The convertible was for the mistress and Karen felt sure that this was the reason for John's choice and not the fresh air in summer.
"It's not every day I go out with a High Court judge. At least I know I'll be safe," Karen's husky mellow voice wound itself round John's waking dreams as he steered the car towards the Ivy Restaurant, a place Karen had not been to before.
John smiled back at her enigmatically as the smooth motion of the car which he controlled took them towards the subdued lights of the discreet restaurant.
When they entered, they were swept up into a different world of soft lights and elegance which put the dingy distempered bare brick walls of Larkhall far behind Karen. The waiter who greeted John knew him to be a regular and gestured them to an intimate table for two. Overhead, four brass fans lazily wafted fresh air round the restaurant that, towards the end of the evening would warm up as the crowds increased. In the centre of the room, the innumerable bulbs of the chandelier threw an endlessly and gently flickering glow that cast its spell on the diners and removed them from the dust and grime of London's busy streets.
It was the first time that John had had the chance to properly look at Karen and the colour of Karen's red silk shirt resonated against the golden glow that had descended upon them all. The vision before him barely separated by the table between them was definitely more sensuous than his mind's eye had dreamed of.
A very pretty waitress approached them with the menu and the wine list. John prided himself as a connoisseur of the fairer sex and could not help but notice the sultry brunette looks of the waitress and her firm breasts even at a moment like this. She offered them the opportunity to take their time to choose their wine in advance of the meal.
"If you don't mind waiting. I am rather particular," John's feeble pretext informed the waitress to wait while, out of the corner of his eye, he stole sidelong glances at her.
In the meantime, he was rather nonplussed when Karen's glance boldly alternated between the wine list and admiring the woman's slender legs and taking in the curves of her body behind the formality of the waitress uniform.
"Are you ready to choose the wine now, Karen. We shouldn't keep the waitress standing around," John replied, his tone of voice a little shorter than he intended. Karen smiled her sphinx like smile back at him.
"I can see you come here regularly," Karen started on an inconsequential note.
"I come here as a refuge from being harangued by some of my fellow judges in the digs," John smiled. "I am regarded as something of a maverick by some of the brethren. At least they would not dream of causing a scene here. Besides," John gestured, "I find the atmosphere soothing. It would be better still if there were a string quartet playing but you can't have everything in life these days."
"I've been there, all right," Karen's cool reply concealed the replay in images of all the unreliable, smooth-talking men there had been in her life.
"Especially when I have the thankless task, equivalent to the Wimbledon umpire, of refereeing between Jo Mills and George Channing as you have seen for yourself," John continued with a wry smile.
"I don't know, John. I would have thought that you would rather like the idea of two women competing for your favours," Karen's reply was framed with her patented brand of playful directness which was very alluring, much though she had rather put him on the spot.
John burst into a hearty laugh to detract from where his thoughts might have been leading him.
"Fine in theory," John retorted playfully in his best outrageous style. "In practice, the idea has its drawbacks. I am fond of them both in different ways but I wish they wouldn't be at each other's throats so much. In recent times, I have to admit that they seem to be capable of working more amicably together," John's melodious voice played expertly against Karen's dreams and fantasies of a few hours ago, as they became real before her eyes. He stopped short just in time before launching into an example of this spirit of unity in citing the civil case against Fenner that was cut brutally short as was Fenner's life. He felt that it was incumbent upon him as a friend of hers, or so the word popped into his mind, to avoid any painful subjects.
Presently, the waitress served them the first course of mussels, expertly presented to them and John's and Karen's attention was not even briefly distracted from each other, a first for John.
"While we're on the subject, it's been on the tip of my tongue," Karen's voice teased its way up and down the scales, "to ask you if you were really having a bet with Jo about whether Yvonne and I were lovers."
John laughed again to distract attention from Karen's level playful gaze.
"It's a new experience for me to be on the receiving end of so many well placed questions. I'm the one who so disgracefully misuses the privileges of the judge's throne," and here he played his pause in a way that a professional actor would admire. "To ask questions, Karen. You are worse than my daughter. And the answer to your question is yes," John added hastily, seeing the twinkle in Karen's eye, which was the prelude to the repeated question, and so he decided to act quickly.
"Perhaps you could tell me about your daughter," Karen asked softly. Her sight of John was slightly swimming before her eyes as the soft background muted conversations broke on her ears like the gentle small waves breaking on the shingles and the soft gentle lighting seduced her senses.
"Her name is Charlie. She's a final year law student who is and has always been very dear to me since I first saw her in hospital many years ago with her big blue eyes and her long eyelashes." A gentle nostalgic smile softened all the lines in John's face and made him feel at peace with himself when he thought of the distant Charlie out there in the adult world while the here and now was this sensuous woman who held him in her spell.
"I wish I could say the same about my son, Ross. Dropped out of uni and we're not exactly on the best of terms. It's funny, John. I thought that as he was growing up entirely in my care that I could give him my strength of will to see him through life but it didn't work out that way," Karen finished with a chill feeling of self accusation. It was as if the window to the cold world outside was opened for a moment and dispelled the delicious warm feeling, especially with this most sympathetic of men.
"You shouldn't accuse yourself this way, Karen," John said, gently placing his hand on hers. His feeling heightened by sexual anticipation were suffused with real pity and understanding and the will to make Karen feel better about herself. For someone so centred, Karen's brief display of vulnerability was far more telling than Franchesca Rochester's utterly insincere "damsel in distress" routine that had ensnared him once.
Presently, the main course of venison cooked with port and crambries arrived and they fell into a companionable silence with no need to plug the gaps of awkward stilted conversations with meaningless trivialities. They knew each other too well to behave that way.
"It's not easy being a parent these days. You need the patience of Job, the judgement of Solomon, the flexibility of mind to understand the rapid succession of teenage trends and………"
"……….still you can get it wrong. You're lucky with your daughter, John," Karen said softly, thinking of the truly gifted man opposite her who she respected.
John warmed to this very intelligent woman with a compassionate understanding who could so neatly cap his thoughts. Flickering images of the various Karens that he saw before him danced before his eyes.
They relaxed in each other's presence while they ate the meal in a leisurely fashion with no need to hurry for what both of them knew lay ahead. The conversation meandered playfully and flirtatiously along between two superbly matched individuals much as in earlier encounters, they had been combative. John admired the way Karen graciously steered the conversation along in much the way that, in another place, his lead violin steered his Mozart piece. The only difference this time was that there were two lead instruments intertwining their melodies along.
"Time to settle the bill, Karen, and then I'll take you home," John's assured voice decided them. There was no suggestion in his voice that he was merely going to drop her off and make his way back to his digs.
They hit the cold night air and the darkness back in the real world. Karen lay back in the passenger seat, content to be driven. The city lights flashed past them and John was conscious more than ever of Karen's subtle perfume and the feeling that the night was young and so was he. It was many a time since he had bought his first car when he was a student that enabled his first conquests. This nights lay in the past, the present and the future as there was no limits to what he could achieve.
Once outside her flat, John politely opened the door for Karen as she smiled up at him. Her earlier reservations had smoothly receded into the far distance as John had made the night out perfect for her. It was this that gave her a delicious feeling of normality that she was in control of her destiny and that she could have a bit of fun for once in her life. Never again would she ever have the vague impression that she once had that judges were some kind of ancient species, a hangover from a bygone age, which their dress in a wig and robes proved to the hilt.
"Would you like a night-cap?" Karen smiled at him invitingly.
"I thought you would never ask," John murmured in his best mock innocent tones.
Karen climbed the steep flight of steps that took her to a place that she was sure of feeling totally safe in the presence of this extraordinary man who wore the majesty of his robes of office so lightly. John, for his part, felt that he was approaching the consummation of his desires when he watched Karen walk on ahead up the flight of stairs ahead of him and the sight of Karen's long slim legs promised him the physical consummation of his desires. Life was good to him and blessed him while he was visited with such pleasures in the life of a carefree bachelor.
John looked at the reflection of himself in his mirror and glanced up and down. What looked back at him pleased him to survey his naturally debonair good looks. Although they were ageing slightly, his neatly cut, thick greying hair and intense blue eyes made him no less attractive to the opposite sex. This marked him out in the singles game as the archetypal Older Man. This was a role that he had slipped into unconsciously though, inside, his drives and feelings felt the same as his younger self, passionate for life in all its forms and this welling forth of energy kept him ahead of the game, ahead of his contemporaries and of the up and coming barristers. This little theatrical performance was as necessary to him as the moment in court when he slipped on his red judge's robes. The only difference between the two occasions was that he could choose his smartest dark suit not as a uniform but for the cut and feel of the cloth.
His thoughts of Karen in his mind's eye shifted back and forth in focus. At the furthest removed from him was far back in time at the start of the Atkins/Pilkinton trial when he had seen her in his chambers as a human being who was worthy of justice's compassion and of his sympathetic outrage that such a blatant cover up was committed against her…This distant image urged on him a measure of restraint on his natural libido. In the middle ground was the image of the highly capable and articulate wing governor whose mind and abilities commanded his respect. Close up was the vision of Karen's shapely legs and full bodied figure. Her long flowing mane of blond hair falling on her shoulders framed the challenging look in her blue eyes and the slight smile at the corners of her full lips. All this dissolved into a kaleidoscope of images of Karen so that his natural urges were unusually tempered by restraint and a sense of decorum.
He eased his steel grey convertible out into the London traffic and into the heart of London's Docklands and arrived outside the modern block of flats where Karen lived.
Karen greeted him effusively with a kiss on his cheek.
"Where are we going?"
"A table for two at the Ivy if that suits you."
"Sounds fine by me." It was not usual for her not to make the decisions in her life but after her interminable mental turmoil of the past few weeks, she wanted to let life flow and end up tonight where it took her. It gave her an enormous feeling of relaxation as, for a change, she got into the unaccustomed left-hand door and into the passenger seat. One look at the convertible told her that, not for John was it to be the sedate family saloon. The convertible was for the mistress and Karen felt sure that this was the reason for John's choice and not the fresh air in summer.
"It's not every day I go out with a High Court judge. At least I know I'll be safe," Karen's husky mellow voice wound itself round John's waking dreams as he steered the car towards the Ivy Restaurant, a place Karen had not been to before.
John smiled back at her enigmatically as the smooth motion of the car which he controlled took them towards the subdued lights of the discreet restaurant.
When they entered, they were swept up into a different world of soft lights and elegance which put the dingy distempered bare brick walls of Larkhall far behind Karen. The waiter who greeted John knew him to be a regular and gestured them to an intimate table for two. Overhead, four brass fans lazily wafted fresh air round the restaurant that, towards the end of the evening would warm up as the crowds increased. In the centre of the room, the innumerable bulbs of the chandelier threw an endlessly and gently flickering glow that cast its spell on the diners and removed them from the dust and grime of London's busy streets.
It was the first time that John had had the chance to properly look at Karen and the colour of Karen's red silk shirt resonated against the golden glow that had descended upon them all. The vision before him barely separated by the table between them was definitely more sensuous than his mind's eye had dreamed of.
A very pretty waitress approached them with the menu and the wine list. John prided himself as a connoisseur of the fairer sex and could not help but notice the sultry brunette looks of the waitress and her firm breasts even at a moment like this. She offered them the opportunity to take their time to choose their wine in advance of the meal.
"If you don't mind waiting. I am rather particular," John's feeble pretext informed the waitress to wait while, out of the corner of his eye, he stole sidelong glances at her.
In the meantime, he was rather nonplussed when Karen's glance boldly alternated between the wine list and admiring the woman's slender legs and taking in the curves of her body behind the formality of the waitress uniform.
"Are you ready to choose the wine now, Karen. We shouldn't keep the waitress standing around," John replied, his tone of voice a little shorter than he intended. Karen smiled her sphinx like smile back at him.
"I can see you come here regularly," Karen started on an inconsequential note.
"I come here as a refuge from being harangued by some of my fellow judges in the digs," John smiled. "I am regarded as something of a maverick by some of the brethren. At least they would not dream of causing a scene here. Besides," John gestured, "I find the atmosphere soothing. It would be better still if there were a string quartet playing but you can't have everything in life these days."
"I've been there, all right," Karen's cool reply concealed the replay in images of all the unreliable, smooth-talking men there had been in her life.
"Especially when I have the thankless task, equivalent to the Wimbledon umpire, of refereeing between Jo Mills and George Channing as you have seen for yourself," John continued with a wry smile.
"I don't know, John. I would have thought that you would rather like the idea of two women competing for your favours," Karen's reply was framed with her patented brand of playful directness which was very alluring, much though she had rather put him on the spot.
John burst into a hearty laugh to detract from where his thoughts might have been leading him.
"Fine in theory," John retorted playfully in his best outrageous style. "In practice, the idea has its drawbacks. I am fond of them both in different ways but I wish they wouldn't be at each other's throats so much. In recent times, I have to admit that they seem to be capable of working more amicably together," John's melodious voice played expertly against Karen's dreams and fantasies of a few hours ago, as they became real before her eyes. He stopped short just in time before launching into an example of this spirit of unity in citing the civil case against Fenner that was cut brutally short as was Fenner's life. He felt that it was incumbent upon him as a friend of hers, or so the word popped into his mind, to avoid any painful subjects.
Presently, the waitress served them the first course of mussels, expertly presented to them and John's and Karen's attention was not even briefly distracted from each other, a first for John.
"While we're on the subject, it's been on the tip of my tongue," Karen's voice teased its way up and down the scales, "to ask you if you were really having a bet with Jo about whether Yvonne and I were lovers."
John laughed again to distract attention from Karen's level playful gaze.
"It's a new experience for me to be on the receiving end of so many well placed questions. I'm the one who so disgracefully misuses the privileges of the judge's throne," and here he played his pause in a way that a professional actor would admire. "To ask questions, Karen. You are worse than my daughter. And the answer to your question is yes," John added hastily, seeing the twinkle in Karen's eye, which was the prelude to the repeated question, and so he decided to act quickly.
"Perhaps you could tell me about your daughter," Karen asked softly. Her sight of John was slightly swimming before her eyes as the soft background muted conversations broke on her ears like the gentle small waves breaking on the shingles and the soft gentle lighting seduced her senses.
"Her name is Charlie. She's a final year law student who is and has always been very dear to me since I first saw her in hospital many years ago with her big blue eyes and her long eyelashes." A gentle nostalgic smile softened all the lines in John's face and made him feel at peace with himself when he thought of the distant Charlie out there in the adult world while the here and now was this sensuous woman who held him in her spell.
"I wish I could say the same about my son, Ross. Dropped out of uni and we're not exactly on the best of terms. It's funny, John. I thought that as he was growing up entirely in my care that I could give him my strength of will to see him through life but it didn't work out that way," Karen finished with a chill feeling of self accusation. It was as if the window to the cold world outside was opened for a moment and dispelled the delicious warm feeling, especially with this most sympathetic of men.
"You shouldn't accuse yourself this way, Karen," John said, gently placing his hand on hers. His feeling heightened by sexual anticipation were suffused with real pity and understanding and the will to make Karen feel better about herself. For someone so centred, Karen's brief display of vulnerability was far more telling than Franchesca Rochester's utterly insincere "damsel in distress" routine that had ensnared him once.
Presently, the main course of venison cooked with port and crambries arrived and they fell into a companionable silence with no need to plug the gaps of awkward stilted conversations with meaningless trivialities. They knew each other too well to behave that way.
"It's not easy being a parent these days. You need the patience of Job, the judgement of Solomon, the flexibility of mind to understand the rapid succession of teenage trends and………"
"……….still you can get it wrong. You're lucky with your daughter, John," Karen said softly, thinking of the truly gifted man opposite her who she respected.
John warmed to this very intelligent woman with a compassionate understanding who could so neatly cap his thoughts. Flickering images of the various Karens that he saw before him danced before his eyes.
They relaxed in each other's presence while they ate the meal in a leisurely fashion with no need to hurry for what both of them knew lay ahead. The conversation meandered playfully and flirtatiously along between two superbly matched individuals much as in earlier encounters, they had been combative. John admired the way Karen graciously steered the conversation along in much the way that, in another place, his lead violin steered his Mozart piece. The only difference this time was that there were two lead instruments intertwining their melodies along.
"Time to settle the bill, Karen, and then I'll take you home," John's assured voice decided them. There was no suggestion in his voice that he was merely going to drop her off and make his way back to his digs.
They hit the cold night air and the darkness back in the real world. Karen lay back in the passenger seat, content to be driven. The city lights flashed past them and John was conscious more than ever of Karen's subtle perfume and the feeling that the night was young and so was he. It was many a time since he had bought his first car when he was a student that enabled his first conquests. This nights lay in the past, the present and the future as there was no limits to what he could achieve.
Once outside her flat, John politely opened the door for Karen as she smiled up at him. Her earlier reservations had smoothly receded into the far distance as John had made the night out perfect for her. It was this that gave her a delicious feeling of normality that she was in control of her destiny and that she could have a bit of fun for once in her life. Never again would she ever have the vague impression that she once had that judges were some kind of ancient species, a hangover from a bygone age, which their dress in a wig and robes proved to the hilt.
"Would you like a night-cap?" Karen smiled at him invitingly.
"I thought you would never ask," John murmured in his best mock innocent tones.
Karen climbed the steep flight of steps that took her to a place that she was sure of feeling totally safe in the presence of this extraordinary man who wore the majesty of his robes of office so lightly. John, for his part, felt that he was approaching the consummation of his desires when he watched Karen walk on ahead up the flight of stairs ahead of him and the sight of Karen's long slim legs promised him the physical consummation of his desires. Life was good to him and blessed him while he was visited with such pleasures in the life of a carefree bachelor.