Part 26 (1/2)
Lawyer.
The man offered a slender hand.
”I'm Charles Little, representing Ms McLean.”
”You mean Mrs c.u.mberland.” Josh shook hands.”It's a difficult situation, and I sympathise. Would you like a drink?”
”I don't think so.” Josh pulled out a chair, then sat square to them both. ”We can dance around for hours or you can tell me what you want. In a single sentence.”
Little looked at Maria, who nodded.
”Just show him,” she said.
She was as beautiful as the day he had met her. Funny how it was obvious now, when so many times recently he had been unable to look at her, seeing only Sophie's body worked by machines, while her mind was software that no longer ran, the hardware brain a lifeless thing.
Little unfolded a wide-view screen and touchboard from his phone, and turned it to face Josh.
DECLARATION OF FORMAL SEPARATION.
Beneath the t.i.tle, bullet-point summaries preceded the separate clauses, all clickable for the full legalese, to any depth required, with sideways links to any part of British law or beyond.
”Just tell me what it says about owners.h.i.+p of goods and s.h.i.+t.”
”That's a separate addendum, which can be filled in now or later.” Little pointed to the link. ”If you don't fill it in, owners.h.i.+p defaults to a fifty-fifty split on pretty much everything. For a fast-track, er, culmination”
”You mean divorce.”
”it's best to keep to a simple formula.””Uh-huh. Interesting that we're meeting here instead of your office, Mr Little.”
”I asked him,” said Maria, ”and it is evening.”
”Actually, I don't really have an office.” Little smiled. ”We're a twenty-first century firm. Online anywhere, that's where we work.”
The City banks would have disagreed, but they had tens or hundreds of thousands of employees, plus the need for physical security on their tens of thousands of servers. A small law firm with maybe a dozen people might entrust their entire business to cloud computing in the Web; Josh's clients could not.
His fingers flicked fast across the touchboard. There were input fields allowing complex specifications, or simple radio b.u.t.tons for easy options. Tabbing rapidly through the doc.u.ment, he speed-read bullet points, clicked into two of the detailed pages, then shut down the auxiliary panes, returning to the beginning.
DECLARATION OF FORMAL SEPARATION.
After a long exhalation, he looked at Maria.
”No doubts? That's what you want?”
Curves of tightening muscle around her mouth.
”Yes.”Josh looked straight into her eyes and pressed his thumb down on the reader. He kept his gaze there as Little turned the screen back, sucked in a breath, then said: ”You both need to authorise it.”
Maria stared back, pus.h.i.+ng her own thumb down. Then she broke, looking away, sniffing, not wanting to cry.
”Duly witnessed.” Little pressed down. ”Thank you. Your generosity is”
Josh stood up.
So it's over.He had seen too much to fantasise about might-havebeen. Too many dead soldiers who should have lived. Perhaps his eyes revealed his thoughts, because the lawyer's voice croaked into silence, and he pulled back, looking frightened.
Over.
Pulsing with the need for violence, Josh stalked out of the pub, praying that someone would get in his way, knowing it would be disastrous. Then he was by his car, shaking, the sky a deepening turquoise touched with sunset gold, pure beauty, while down here a rat rustled beneath the bushes, on dark soil containing a seething bioma.s.s of warring beetles and desperate worms, insects eating the babies of other insects, billions of organisms dying every second, some beneath the fangs and mandibles of predators, others killed and then sucked dry by their own kind.
It was a long time before he could get into the car and drive.
[ EIGHTEEN ].
Josh pulled in to the car park of the Red Stiletto, found the last slot, and parked. The pub's sign had once been a scarlet shoe in the days when strippers worked here but now was a glistening, stained blade. Inside, its main attractions were ma.s.sive wallscreens tuned to sports channels. But there was no need to go in; Suzanne was outside, standing with folded arms.
”Hi,” he said, failing to sound relaxed.
Her voice was nearly as tight as his. ”What did she do?”
”Her and her f.u.c.king lawyer waiting for me, how about that? With a fast-track divorce, online and legal.”
”What did you do?”
”Signed the agreement because... When it's over, it's over.”
Saying it, he relaxed a little, though he was still sweating as if after a workout.
”My friend Miriam,” murmured Suzanne, ”went through something like that with her partner, and when it was over she said to herself: 'Now it's time to let it go, remember what was good and accept the rest.' And she also said: 'You kept hold of someone who lasted for years successfully, so you can do it again, and maybe next time do it better.'”
Josh rubbed his face, and breathed out tension.
”Well, good for her.”
Suzanne touched his arm.