John was deeply engrossed in tracking down an obscure but important legal precedent, which hovered, indistinctly at the edges of his very tenacious memory. It refused to define itself further than it did, remaining frustratingly enigmatic. Neither name nor associated circumstance would take shape in his mind, despite his best efforts. It was unusual as his craft was based partly on his razor sharp memory or, failing that, on that knack for where to start looking. Eventually he muttered under his breath and threw down his pen in exasperation.
As that concentrated effort of will had failed him, some instinct prompted him to move towards the window, and look out on the view outside. He reached towards the calming effect of the wider perspective of the outside world, to give him peace of mind. This trick had sometimes enabled inspiration to creep up on him, and deliver the answer but not this time. Instead, he became aware that, at a more submerged level, his thoughts had been buzzing away at a similar quest to get to the bottom of why there was such tension between Charlie and George. He had to admit that this unresolved quest had affected his intellectual activity, like some form of background electrical interference.
He cursed his weakness in allowing him to break his golden rule of compartmentalizing his private life from his public duties. It troubled him, as if this lapse was the start of a slide into anarchy and disorder and vowed not to repeat this again if he could help it. Very unusually, for a temperate man, he helped himself to a generous measure of whisky to calm himself down. Very well, so be it, he resolved as the whisky stung this throat. He certainly wasn't going to get anywhere fast, if he continued to stew over his problems. It would have to be dealt with methodically, and his concerns laid to rest.
"Coope," John drawled in easy tones. "Can you find out if Charlie has any business in court today? I wish to speak to her."
'I can find out, judge." Coope answered in her concerned tones. One look at him told her loud and clear that he was unselfishly worried about her, and she was only too glad to oblige. She was aware that, no matter how inscrutable he pretended to be to himself, his varying moods were transparent to her practiced eye. After all, that skill went with the territory of being a personal assistant. Coope also knew the various quirks of all the various barristers and judges, and dealt with them with that dexterity of manner that the fictional character of Jeeves would have respected.
Coope moved silently down to the cramped clerks office, overflowing with court files in every direction but somehow, in an order that was easily understandable to those who worked there. She had a quiet word in the right ear and, sure enough, Charlotte Deed was named as the junior barrister in connection with a grievous bodily harm case. She knew that, contrary to her casual manner, she would arrive in plenty of time.
Sure enough, Charlie Deed strode into the foyer with that happy go lucky manner, that even the hard graft and absence of glamour of a junior barrister's life had failed to dent. Her manner was also surprising, considering her previous argument with George. However, Coope adroitly positioned herself so that Charlie was trapped by the meaning expression on Coope's face. Her face fell, with a presentiment of what was to come even before Coope spoke to her.
"The judge wants to see you in his chambers, Miss Deed."
"Do I have to see him now"
"It's not my place to tell you what to do," lied Coope, in her most majestically understated manner, "but I think you should go up and see him now"
Charlie swallowed at the mental vision of her father's typically relentless and inquisitive probing for the truth. To avoid him would be only putting off the evil moment.
"Very well, but he'd better make it quick." Charlie retorted in an audibly false tone of bravado. Wordlessly, Coope followed in behind the younger woman to her father's lair.
'I'm glad you could spare me the time, Charlie." John smiled with everything but his eyes. "I wanted us to have a chat about what went on yesterday between you and your mother"
"What about, dad?" Charlie answered, as if butter wouldn't melt in her mouth.
"Charlie, I know that you and your mother have had a very serious row"
"So what else is new?" came the flip reply.
"George's cancer for a start in case you hadn't noticed it." John retorted in that precisely articulated tone of voice. As Charlie made no reply, John pressed home his advantage.
"That's one big reason why I want to know exactly what the row was about."
"I suppose that mum put you up to complaining about me? That's so typically underhanded and devious of her"
"For your information, Charlie, George has been incredibly and totally loyal to you, because she didn't tell me anything of what you said even when I pressed her on the subject. That's why I'm asking you instead"
"That'll be the day"
"I am going to sit here, Charlie, for the rest of the day if necessary, and I will also delay court until I get an answer from you. Now, just what did you say to her that might have made her question her past relationship with you, at a time when this will not serve to help anyone?"
"You're always on her side these days, aren't you."
"That is something I would have expected to hear from you when you were twelve. It didn't work then, and it won't work now. For your information, Charlie, I'm on the side of justice, your mother's justice, your justice and my justice. To do that, I need information."
A sulky expression settled on Charlie's face and her awkward body language betrayed her realization that John had beaten down her powers of resistance. She took her eyes off John, and padded round his chambers. Instinct prompted him to cut her that small amount of slack, so that she could get to face the truth, herself and him in one fell swoop.
"All right dad. You win as you always do"
"Go on." Came the softly spoken reply.
"If you must know, I accused mum of using the illness so she could get you to run round after her until she got sick of you again"
"You can't be serious," John exclaimed as he jumped to his feet.
"Well, it all seemed very convenient, dad"
"Inconvenient, you mean, Charlie. Lets leave this teenage psychologising alone for the moment. Have you actually seen George's operation scars?" John demanded in ringing tones.
Charlie's silence and the deep coloration that swept over her face gave John answer enough.
"So you have seen it"
"Sort of"
"Welcome to the grown up world, Charlie. You have always noisily laid claim to certain rights in the way you are treated. The other side of the coin is that you have to take the responsibilities that go with them. You are aware that cancer kills people"
"Not mum. She's immortal, don't you know"
There was something in that ice-cold tone of voice that suddenly made John feel incredibly weary. It was not the tone of voice that rejoiced in George's supposed indestructibility, but was unutterably alienated by it. He could not understand how Charlie, who was so warm hearted to him, turned to stone where George was concerned. He had tried an all out frontal attack, and he didn't feel as if he was getting anywhere.
"You know, Charlie, that at some time in your life, you have to make your peace with your mother. I never had the chance with mine."
That sudden shift in John from parent to child shook Charlie in her turn. She had looked in John's general direction except straight in the eye. By sheer chance, she had seen the torment in his clear blue eyes and had caught the full emotional force of his words. She was silent for a while before thoughts emerged to frame themselves in words and structures.
"It's all very well, dad, it isn't as if I grew up in a normal family with a father and mother and two point four children. You know that my childhood was never like that"
"I know that George and I lived apart for many years. The one thing we did agree on was how best that you should be brought up"
"Then why didn't mum love me like any other mother?"
Charlie's eyes were suddenly wet with unshed tears and John saw in her the child she had been. She had never asked him that question before, but had always dismissed George as the 'Ice Maiden'
"I've talked to George about her feelings for you. She felt that she wasn't a good enough mother and came to believe that when Jo came into my life, that she would be a better mother than her. Don't forget that in her eyes, Jo took to motherhood like a duck to water and she didn't. The only way she could cope with that and my own misbehaviour was to pretend to distance herself from us"
"She did a pretty convincing act, dad"
"Don't you understand that mothers especially are expected to instantly bond with their babies and to be naturally maternal? Just how realistic is that and where do women turn to if they find that it doesn't work that way? In George's case, she had no one she could turn to so she turned on herself."
"Why couldn't I grow up in a normal family, dad?" came Charlie's plaintive response to John's uncertain venture into psychology.
What's normal, Charlie? Am I normal? I used to think that I was a natural product of the public school system, with all its upright principles deeply engrained in me. I feel that I've stayed where I am, but so many of my brethren and others in the executive have deserted their ideals and become spineless and self-serving. I look around at my friends outside the legal professions like Karen, Nikki, and Helen. I ask myself where they stand in the great scheme of things, and the answer comes back to me that they are as honourable as anyone I have ever known. I know they are right in their outlook but I don't ever ask of them if they're normal"
"They're just names to me. They don't mean anything"
"As your college friends were to me. At the end of the day, you can't let yourself get held back by any mistakes that George and I have made. You have to accept the best of what we gave you and work through the rest, and look to the future. Believe me, Charlie, you must understand. All I am asking of you is that you try to understand"
Charlie shook her head in genuine confusion. A part of her longed to be in agreement with her father even if she was held back. She knew that he was asking more than her understanding, he was asking for her submission. All the same, her loyalty to her old antagonism could not be easily given up, partly because she would have to admit to herself that she might have been wrong all these years. This was a test of just how young and callow she was and how much stiff pride in her held her back.