Cecelia Ahern - Perfect

On the floor is a rug made from the sewn-together outfit of a cowboy, a flattened rubber face, and a cowboy hat. I step over the boots, trying not to trip on the spurs. Over the fireplace is a human head, fake I hope, with antlers. It’s of a gray-haired old man who’s smiling with a gold tooth. The couch we’re sitting on, I realize, has been made to look like white skin with freckles.

“Nothing animal here,” he says, watching our reactions. “Irony. Go on, take it in. I’m vegan. Don’t believe in the murder of animals for food, fashion, or interior design. Everything here is faux, including the leather chaps on the rug. I call it Wayne.” He pauses. “I know, I know, a vegan little person. Dining out is difficult, but more so for my sister. She’s a celiac. That’s a joke,” he says, not breaking a smile or taking a breath. “I don’t have a sister.” He stands and goes to a cabinet for a whiskey. “I’d offer you both one, but you’re Flawed and the rules say you cannot drink alcohol. Here’s some water.” He throws us each a plastic bottle from a fridge and we catch them.

Carrick views the water suspiciously.

“Don’t worry. It’s not a trick: No animals were harmed in the packaging of that water. So here’s the thing. I love movies.” He reaches over and pulls out a drawer displaying hundreds of DVDs. “I watch around three a day and I know the score. Aged cop is about to retire, but he solves one last case and gets shot. Aged thief takes on one last job before retirement. Goes wrong and he gets caught. It’s inevitable. You attract your fears, art imitates life, life imitates art, and so on, and even though it will concern my wife, Susan, greatly—”

“Do it or I’ll leave you,” she shouts from the room next door.

“ Even though it will concern my loving wife, Susan, greatly, I will consider taking you on. In my story I won’t get shot or caught. I’m a lawyer who has never lost a case, so for me, the movie is that I come out of retirement, and then I lose.”

I look at Carrick finally.

“But that’s the worst-case scenario. I never lose, don’t intend on doing so now. I assume you have no money; you’re on the run, which makes it difficult for you to hold down a job and pay me, and even if you were working, no Flawed job could afford you my fees. It also puts me in a precarious position and makes this even more difficult than it would have been had you not become evaders, but that’s okay. I’m used to complications. I suggest representing you both separately, no offense, Carrick, and I noticed you were surprised I knew your name, but I read the news, follow the court proceedings, and while you didn’t get anything close to the publicity of your neighbor here, I managed to read a few sentences about your little debacle. An honorable if stupid one.

“Celestine’s the star here. Every power couple has one member who’s less successful—it always causes cracks, but suck it up, some people figure out ways to work it out. I’m assuming you’re here because I am the only lawyer in the history of the world who has had a Flawed verdict overturned. I don’t know how you found that out, it was strictly confidential, no paper trail whatsoever, but you can tell me that later. It was an outcome that didn’t even benefit your dear friend Mr. Crevan. So how did I do it?”

He pauses, then smiles.

“I was right . And right wins every time. Along with hard work, perseverance, ridiculous amounts of money, threats, trickery, and somebody leading the case who has the time to be bothered to care. When I care, I care.

“Every week I receive dozens of requests from Flawed to take on their cases, and I don’t. I am the fantasy, dream lawyer of many, not because they know of my verdict overturn, but because of my reputation in the courtroom. I am the giant of the Flawed litigation world. Ironic, isn’t it?

“That’s why I’m here; retired, young, and safe in the mountains away from it all. I’m not quite sure how you found me, but I’m impressed. I can see from your face, Celestine, that you don’t believe me about being safe in the mountains, you frowned when I said it. Well, you’re right, there’s the issue of your friend Crevan. I’ve decided it would be best for us if he and I keep our distance. He’s a sore loser to say the least. But he knows where I am if he wants me. He makes sure to let me know of that.”

Raphael leans forward and looks at me properly for the first time since I arrived. “As for you, you’ve managed to evade him. Which is a curious thing, for two reasons. How you’re doing it, and why he wants you. And I want to know why, of course, but I can’t let that be the deciding factor in whether I take this case. I can deal with not knowing.”

He sits back and taps his chin in thought.

“If I ask you why you have Crevan’s fullest attention, Celestine, will you tell me?”

I sense Carrick about to speak, but I jump in. “Only if you agree to represent me first. In writing,” I add.

He smiles. “The problem is, no matter what is going on with you and Judge Crevan, I’m not sure that I can win your case. It was a curious one from the start. You’re Flawed, not for aiding a Flawed, which should have carried a prison sentence, but instead for lying about it. You admitted it yourself in court. After lying about it, which puts a stain on your character already. But the fact is, I want to know what has gotten Crevan so anxious. And I’m wondering if knowing is worth losing for.” He looks at me and thinks. “Currently, I’m swaying toward yes.”

He stands up and paces, walking back and forth over Wayne the cowboy rug.

“Ah, yes.”

He stops and smiles as if he’s listened to my silent rebuttal.

“I understand now. What you want to do is argue the Flawed case entirely, which is a human rights issue that would ordinarily be taken to the high court, which would defeat your case because no lawyer of any quality has represented a Flawed outside of the Guild for fear of being seen to be aiding a Flawed, even if money changes hands, which I’m guessing it won’t because you don’t have any. No, what you need is someone like Enya Sleepwell from the Vital Party fighting in your corner, but your boyfriend would know all about her, being entrenched so deeply in her campaign.”

At first I think he’s talking about Art but I notice he’s looking at Carrick. I’m confused.

“Oh, no, Mr. Angelo, you’re mistaken, Carrick doesn’t have anything to do with Enya Sleepwell,” I explain.

“Ah. Oh dear. She doesn’t know about you and Enya Sleepwell, does she, Carrick? Are you going to enlighten her, or shall I?”

Carrick swallows.

THIRTY-FIVE

“ENLIGHTEN ME … PLEASE,” I say, feeling fear and anger rising, as I look from Raphael to Carrick and back again.

“Your boyfriend’s mission, should he choose to accept it, and let’s face it, he already has, was to get you in his care and carry out this plan of action, so that Enya Sleepwell could use you in her campaign. She’s aiming for the Flawed vote, and no politician has ever tried that before. As you may know, the Flawed traditionally don’t vote in elections, despite it being one of the few rights they have left. What’s the point in a Flawed voting for a politician who controls a society they are not technically part of?

“Going for the Flawed vote is a clever but risky tactic. Enya needs more than just the Flawed on her side, and in order to do that she needs people to believe in the Flawed. How can people believe in the Flawed? Celestine the hero to save the day. It’s a vicious circle. How much of her campaign rests on your shoulders alone, Celestine?” He’s looking at Carrick. “I bet a lot.”