Roxie Cooper - The Law of Attraction - the perfect laugh-out-loud read for autumn 2018

The great thing about Heidi is that she knows me so well and always cheers me up when it comes to boy woes. I remember one time at university when I was unceremoniously dumped by a guy I was really into. She secretly pinched my iPod and created a playlist entitled ‘The Twat’, filling it with empowering songs by Beyonce, Pink and Whitney Houston. I was absolutely over the loser after listening to it on loop for a week. This woman is wasted in the law. She really ought to be some kind of life coach.

However, as I describe Sid to Heidi, I am very aware that I must sound like a schoolgirl. At the same time, I am more than aware that nothing could ever happen between us, for so many reasons – not least Skylar, who would literally kill me to actual death if I even so much as placed my lips on that gorgeous mouth of his. Having romantic relations with any work colleague is a bad idea at the best of times, let alone when the subject of one’s desire is effectively determining your future in what is basically a one-year interview process – no, sorry, election campaign-come-X-factor-talent-show.

Its been a really long day and our second glass of wine is our last. We chat on the way home about Heidi’s job. She has been there for a week now and has already put the fear of God into the other trainee solicitors. She is every inch the ruthless commercial solicitor and she loves it. She would rather sell her soul than deal with criminals every day; she likes her clients clean, sanitised and not stinking of urine, which is fair enough.

***

I wake up the next day feeling hopelessly optimistic and trot off to work in a positive mood. In fact, I don’t trot; I sashay . I am confident in my own abilities and I am a strong woman. If Martin Gregg wants a fight, then I’ll give him one. So what if my first day didn’t quite go as I had expected? Today is a new day and I am ready and focused on the task ahead.

There’s nobody else in Chambers when I arrive at 7.25 a.m. so I get into the library and start looking at the briefs Skylar has given me. Before I know it, it’s 8.45 a.m. and I realise I haven’t made everyone their coffee.

Shit!

I sprint to the kitchen, only to find Martin coming out, carrying a large tray with a load of mugs on it, steam arising from each one.

‘Oh babe, sorry, were you supposed to be doing this? I wouldn’t have done it but people were asking when they were getting their drinks so I took it upon myself…’

Oh dear God. I hate him.

‘No worries,’ I say with a very false grin. ‘But Martin, don’t call me “babe”.’

‘Yeah,’ he smirks, before passing me to deliver his hot beverages. I mean, what the hell is he supposed to be? Bloody perfect tea boy? I secretly berate myself for not getting in there sooner and make a mental note to do it tomorrow because I simply can’t be making errors like this on Day Two.

‘Oh, Amanda, just one more thing…’ he quips as I’m walking off.

I stop and turn around, prepared for anything this utter weasel has to say to me.

‘…I did warn you. Such a shame, you’ve worked so hard to get here and to fall at the final hurdle…’

‘ That’s why you’re here? Just to ensure I can’t get tenancy? My God, how pathetic of you…’ I say to him.

‘Well, it makes no difference to me where I get tenancy. I’m not bothered. So, I figured if I can fuck you off in the process then it’s just an added bonus,’ he offers.

My God, the arrogance of the guy.

‘Martin, unless you’ve suddenly acquired a brain in the last four months, I’m not worried in the slightest. And I know you didn’t get into these Chambers through the normal route. Who owed your father a favour, I wonder?’ I ponder, sarcastically.

Martin grips the tray so hard, presumably through anger, that it starts shaking ever so slightly and his knuckles go pale, even though he tries to hide it in his face.

‘Everything okay?’ Skylar appears at the door in his hat and coat.

‘Yes, Richard, I’m ready to go,’ I say. I collect my bag and we head over to Crown Court.

As it turns out, one of the cases Skylar is prosecuting this morning is against Sid Ryder. I thought this would cause some kind of conflict of interest but apparently not; it happens all the time.

We go for a coffee in the advocates’ café and Skylar’s opponents come over to chat to him about the cases. I sit, trying to look clever and highly intelligent, saying nothing… wig still looks utterly ridiculous.

Sid strides over and parks himself next to Skylar, so I’m sitting opposite, trying not to look at him.

Don’t stare at his face. Or eyes.

Or mouth.

Oh, he just has an air about him. Like the kind of man who demands respect but simultaneously earns it. He is confident but not cocky. He is obviously popular but he isn’t arrogant about it. And as I watch him chatting to Skylar about sentencing guidelines, I want him to rip my knickers off. I realise, far too late into this high-school scene, that I am now staring at Ryder, which isn’t a good tactic, and so I drag my eyes somewhere else before he catches me drooling at him. He’s sporting stubble on his face today. Does he even know the effect this has on women? He must do.

‘How are you getting on?’ he asks me with a little smile that might as well say ‘I know you were staring at me’.

‘Oh, great, thanks!’ I reply, before putting my head down and writing complete gibberish in my blue notepad to make me look busy. Some wise soul told me that pupils should be seen and not heard, and I am fine with that. The less you speak, the less chance you have of pissing someone off. Martin, of course, appears to be immune from this convention. We have both been in Chambers for a matter of hours, but already I feel that he is getting on with people more than I am.

I caught him this morning, as I left Chambers, gurning away as his pupilmaster, the ever-hateful Dolus, was telling him about his completely dull yachting holiday last year. The crazy, wide-eyed, ‘I-desperately-want-to-please-you’ face appeared to be working. I have promised myself not to resort to such tactics. And that’s another thing: Martin appears to have reinvented himself as ‘Marty’ out of nowhere, like he’s trying to make himself cooler (not possible). It’s irritating.

Skylar is feeling charitable at lunchtime again so we head to the lovely little bistro next to Chambers for lunch.

‘So, which members of Chambers have you spoken to already?’ he asks, slurping his soup.

‘Well, not many, actually. I haven’t really had the chance…’

‘Well, you must make the time to do it. Don’t forget… election campaign . Very important that you don’t forget the social side of Chambers.’

I might have sodding time if you weren’t working me so bloody hard.

‘Sid seems nice,’ I say, oh-so-casually, before chomping into a ham and cheese panini.

‘Oh God ,’ he groans, rolling his eyes. ‘Now, listen to me, Amanda, and listen very carefully.’ He’s serious now; he’s even put down his coffee for this bit. ‘You’re not the first woman to fall for Sid Ryder, and trust me when I say you won’t be the last.’

‘But…’ I intervene.

‘Yes, I know … the suave demeanour, the piercing eyes, that cheeky smile, not to mention his unique style of advocacy…’ he continues, as I look at him, absolutely embarrassed beyond belief, not to mention flummoxed by the possibility that Skylar has a far bigger crush on Sid than I do.

‘…But to start an intimate relationship with another member of Chambers, at this stage in your career, would be professional suicide.’ He glares at me for several seconds, just leaving this last bit hanging in the air, so as to emphasise the point dramatically.