At Nottingham Crown Court, two armed robbers are found not guilty on all charges, to the delight of two of Shoe Lane Chambers' finest. Co-defending with Clive is always tricky, Martha is never sure if he's going to stab her client in the back to get his own client off the hook. This time though, they're both on the same page. This was a police fit-up, plain and simple. The fact that the two men in the dock are probably guilty as sin is irrelevant. They shouldn't be convicted on faulty or fabricated evidence.
They go to a nightclub to celebrate — Clive had suggested dinner, but Martha wanted to cut loose. They down shots at the bar and then Martha drags Clive onto the dance floor. At one point Clive pulls Martha closer and says something in her ear.
"What?" she yells back, straining to hear over the music.
"I said, 'You're a terrible dancer'."
Martha ignores this and continues to flail her arms and legs to the music, to Clive's amusement.
Later they stagger back to the hotel, stopping for a kebab along the way. "Come back to my room," Clive suggests. "Let's hit the minibar."
"Alright, but you're explaining the expense bill to Billy."
Back in his room, they drink and talk and giggle some more, then Martha collapses on Clive's bed. "I should get back to my room," she says, staring at the ceiling.
She's slightly disappointed when, instead of trying to persuade her to stay, Clive asks, "Want me to walk you there?"
She nods. "Alright."
He walks her down the long corridor to her room. "So, this is me," she says, turning to him. "I'll see you in the morning."
"Sleep well."
"You too."
She watches him walk away, back to his room, shrugging off her sense of regret.
She's just finished getting ready for bed when she hears a soft tap on the door and her heart leaps. She opens the door and Clive holds out a bottle of half-drunk whiskey from his room. "Sure I can't tempt you with a night cap?"
She looks at the bottle. "No," she says and grabs hold of his shirt, pulling him in for a kiss.
Clive closes the door behind him as he and Martha stumble backwards into the room. On the bed, he breaks off the kiss to run his hands over the silky nightgown she's wearing. "You're so gorgeous, Marth," he murmurs. She knows he probably says something like this to all the women he's with, but he's looking at her like he means it. She kisses him again to shut up the voice in her head screaming that this is the stupidest thing she's ever done, and he smiles at her like he loves her.
Afterwards, he runs his hands through her hair, which is still a mess having spent most of the day wearing a wig. "You okay?" he asks, surprisingly gentle. She nods.
"That was worth waiting 15 years for," he says, sounding more like his usual self.
"Well, it was alright," she says, deadpan, then giggles as he pulls her close to him again.
In the morning, Martha is already showered and pulling on her clothes when Clive wakes up. "What are you doing?"
"Nearly time to go," she replies, buttoning up her shirt.
"We don't have to check out for hours. Come back to bed."
"I want to beat the traffic. I'll see you out by the car, when you're ready." She gives him a brief smile before grabbing her briefcase and suitcase and departing before he can argue further.
Out in the car, she puts her cases in the boot, then sits in the driver's seat and puts her head in her hands. She's always prided herself on being the one woman who can resist Clive's charms, what was she thinking? If this gets out she'll be a laughing stock in chambers. She's heard how the clerks talk about the women Clive beds. Maybe Clive won't say anything. Even if he does, Billy won't let them gossip about her. She's just about calmed down when Clive comes out to the car, dragging his own case, which he throws in the back.
"I checked us both out," he says as he gets in the passenger seat.
"Thanks," she says as she starts the engine, ready to drive back to London and forget that this ever happened.