An Affair of the Heart (7 page)

“I’ll see where
your mother’s got to,” she said, with a smile as she left.

Rachel took a
deep breath. She made sure that she was completely calm before
retrieving the crumpled newspaper. Slowly, carefully, keeping
herself calm all the time, she read the whole story. Then she read
it again.

Finally, Rachel
turned back to the front page and stared intently at the picture of
Sarah Williams. There she was at last. The woman whose heart she
now had. Instinctively, her hand went to her chest, and she felt
the heart beating so strongly inside her. Where were you going, she
thought to herself. What were you thinking? She sighed. ‘Killed in
a car accident,’ the paper had said. ‘Died instantly.’ It was all
so sad.

She turned to
the picture of the husband. He looked so sad, he must have loved
her such a lot. Why else would he want the heart back? Maybe she
was being silly, but somehow she thought that she would feel
something when she looked at his picture, that her heart would beat
faster. But there was no response from her heart at all. It was as
if it felt nothing.

When Gina
finally arrived, Rachel had already hidden the paper back under the
sheets again. She said nothing to her mother about what she had
learned, even though she dearly wanted to. She said nothing because
Rachel knew that her mother simply did not want her to worry about
what was going on. She wanted to protect her and shield her from it
all. And Rachel knew that all this would be a great strain on her
mother too, and the last thing she needed right now was the extra
worry that Rachel might know what was going on, and that it might
effect, or hinder, her recovery. So instead they talked and chatted
about all the usual things. How she was feeling, and how they were
treating her. Did she need anything, or was there anything she
wanted from home? And so on, and so on.

Throughout her
visit, Gina never gave any hint about what was going on, or how it
was affecting her. Rachel was terribly proud of her. She wanted to
hug her and kiss her. Instead she could only smile, and like her
mother, keep her feelings hidden inside.

“I thought you
said that they’d settle?” Alex said over the phone.

“They were
going to,” Helen replied. “I had a meeting scheduled with them
tomorrow afternoon. They’ve cancelled it.”

“So what went
wrong?”

“It seems that
our victim has managed to hire a solicitor who thinks he can win.
He’s some American. I think you know him, Alex.”

“McCord!” Alex
ground out the name, cursing under his breath. Helen could almost
imagine Alex kicking the furniture at the other end of the
phone.

“His first move
was to sue the MRI for ten million pounds,” Helen went on. “He’s
scared them to death. There’s no way that they’ll settle out of
court now.”

“How could they
afford to pay him?” Alex demanded. “You said they had no
money!”

“The rumour is
that he’s doing it for free. A regular knight in shining armour.
The media will just love him.”

Helen heard
Alex cursing on the other end of the phone again. She smiled. “You
forgot to tell me about him, didn’t you Alex?” she said, softly.
“You forgot to mention that he worked for you, and that you parted
company on the same day that your wife died. That was very naughty
of you, Alex. But never mind. You have my full attention now. I’m
listening.”

There was a
pause, and then Alex told her about the affair. “He was also using
my wife to embezzle money from my company,” he went on. “Sarah was
a director. It was her signatures on the cheques, and the transfer
documents. About two million pounds has gone missing. I traced it
to an account in the name of Mrs Sarah McCord, but it had already
been transferred. It was done by computer from a bank in Chicago.
They said they gave a cashier’s cheque to the woman who called
herself Mrs McCord. I’ve no idea who she was, and the money has
disappeared. I’ve got people trying to trace it, but they’ve come
up with nothing so far.”

“I take it that
you’ve got no evidence against McCord apart from the use of his
name?”

“No, only Sarah
is implicated. I found chequebooks and credit cards in her room
with the same ridiculous name. But I know he must have put her up
to it.”

“Thank you,
Alex. That’s most interesting. Late, but interesting none the
less.”

“Can you get
rid of him?” Alex asked her.

“Yes, very
easily. It’s a conflict of interest. All I have to do is report his
affair with your wife–”

“No!” Alex’s
denial was firm. “I don’t want my wife’s affair with this man to
become known! Have you got that? Find another way!”

“I don’t like
having my hands tied, Alex.”

“I said find
another way!”

Helen sighed.
“I’ll see what I can come up with. But on the other hand,” she
added, thoughtfully. “It might make the case more interesting. A
walk over would have been too easy. At least now the media will
have something to report on.”

“The media!
Animals!” Alex snarled. “I’ve got them camped outside my house
already!”

“I told you
that you’d be the villain. The pressure isn’t getting to you
already, is it, Alex?”

“Don’t play
games! Just do what I’m paying you for! And as for McCord, maybe
you’re right. If he wants to get involved, then let him! It’ll keep
him occupied while my people look for more evidence against him. In
the meantime, press for an early trial. Who have you got in mind
for QC?”

“Sir Richard
Hargreaves,” Helen replied. “He’s got a good reputation and he
doesn’t mind getting his hands dirty.”

“Good! Keep me
up to date.” The phone went dead.

Helen put down
her phone and sat back in her large leather chair. So, she thought
to herself, Alex’s perfect little wife was having an affair. Maybe
not so perfect after all. And there was a large amount of money
missing, too. This might all be very useful later. Especially now
that her lover and husband were about to play tug of war with her
heart. How sweet. How so very, very sweet. She smiled. This was
getting better by the hour.

Robert McCord
looked around at the offices of Brian Morgan QC. They weren’t very
big, and they weren’t very tidy.

“Come in and
sit down!” Brian said brightly, clearing the pile of case briefs
from the other chair and dumping them on his desk.

“You have some
work, then?” Robert said, indicating the pile of briefs, each
neatly tied with a black cord. He stood in front of the chair, his
hands in his pockets, as if deciding whether to sit down or not. He
also carried a brief. It was tucked under his left arm.

“Yes, I’m
fairly busy,” Brian replied, glancing at the brief under his
visitors arm. He sat down and waited for Robert to say something
else. Instead, he remained silent, standing there with his hands in
his pockets, looking around the office.

Brian couldn’t
stand the uneasy silence for long. “Is there something you wanted,
Mr McCord?” he asked, rather hopefully.

Robert looked
at him. “Are these what you call your ‘chambers?’” he asked with a
smile.

Brian relaxed a
little. “Yes, I’m afraid so,” he said. “It’s all I can afford at
the moment. But with luck, and a few more cases, I hope to move
into a better building a little nearer to the courts.”

Robert seemed
to make up his mind. He took his hands out of his pockets and sat
down, placing the brief carefully on the desk between him and Brian
Morgan, and dragging the chair closer to the desk so that he could
lean on it. Staring intently at the surprised QC, he began talking
quickly.

“I have a
proposition for you,” he began. “You’re a recently qualified QC.
You’ve had a few cases, and a few successes. You’re reasonably
smart, but more to the point, you’re poor, and you’re cheap. I have
a job that’s just right for you. But the catch is, you’ll be doing
it for free.”

“Hang on a
minute!” Brian interrupted. “Slow down, now!”

Robert became
silent. He leaned his chin on his hands, staring at Brian across
the desk, eyebrows raised.

Brian cleared
his throat. “First off,” he said. “I have a number of clients–”

“Yes,” Robert
interrupted. “Who haven’t paid you.”

Brian paused.
“I charge the going rate,” he said.

“The client
can’t pay you,” Robert countered. “And you know that, because it’s
virtually impossible for you not to know who I am, and who I
represent.”

“I can’t
possibly work for no money.”

“If you win
this case, you’ll never have to worry about money again.”

Brian thought
about it. He shook his head. “Look at this place!” he said. “It’s
costing me a fortune! And you’re absolutely right! Over half of my
clients haven’t paid me yet. I’d love to take this case, I really
would! I sleep at night dreaming of such cases. But I’m in debt up
to my ears! I need money, Mr McCord.” He rubbed his fingers and
thumb together as if to emphasise the need. “Money, money,
money!”

Robert sat back
in his chair. “Okay,” he said. “I tell you what I’ll do. I’ll pay
you up to the end of this week. By then, I promise you that all
your forgetful clients will have paid up.”

“And how will
you do that?”

“Never mind
that, that’s my business,” Robert waved the problem aside. “But
once all your debts are paid, you work for free. Okay?”

Brian folded
his arms. “Alright, then,” he said, sitting back. “If you can get
them to pay up when I’ve had no luck trying all this time, then
you’ve got a deal!”

Robert grinned
as he reached out and slid the brief across the desk towards Brian.
“Welcome aboard, Brian!” he said. “I promise you this is going to
be a highly educational time in your career, not necessarily all
perfectly legal mind you, but educational none the less!”

Rachel waited
anxiously for Gavin Smedley. He seemed to take ages to get here.
When he finally did arrive, and pushed his trolley through the
door, Rachel thought that her heart monitor was going to give her
away again.

“Where’ve you
been?” she almost snapped.

“Hold your
horses! What do you think I am, a bloody spy, or something?” Gavin
replied. He winked at her as he closed the door quickly behind him.
“You’re going to get me in trouble, you are!” he added.

“I just
wondered where you were, that’s all.”

“Did you think
they’d caught me and had me shot?”

“Don’t
joke!”

“I’m not
joking! That Nurse Kaye has already given me a couple of queer
looks. Here, take these.” He grabbed two magazines and a romantic
novel from the pile on his trolley and handed them to her.

“But I don’t
want them,” Rachel began, but Gavin interrupted her.

“I know that!”
he said. “Just pretend you’re reading them. Just to keep Nurse
Kaye’s beady eyes off me. Here!” He reached into his back pocket
for the newspaper, and gave it to Rachel. She had just stuffed it
under the sheets when the door opened and Nurse Kaye came in.

“I thought I
saw you pushing your trolley down the corridor,” she said to Gavin.
“Aren’t you a bit early today?”

“Yep! I’ve put
go faster stripes on my trolley!”

Nurse Kaye
ignored Gavin’s remark and went over to the bed. She picked up the
book he had given to Rachel. “I thought you’d read this,” she said
to Rachel.

“That’s what I
told Gavin,” Rachel quickly replied.

“Fussy beggars
these heart patients!” Gavin said, taking the book back from Nurse
Kaye. “First they change their hearts, then they want to change
everything! How about this?” He held up another book.

“Okay, I’ll
give it a try,” Rachel replied, taking the book from him.

“Right! I’m
off!” Gavin began to pull his trolley back out the door. “I’ll see
you this afternoon.”

Rachel quickly
called after him. “I’ll have finished your magazines by then,” she
said. “You can pick them up like you did yesterday.”

Gavin and his
trolley disappeared. Rachel looked up at Nurse Kaye. “Is my Mum
here yet?” she asked her.

“No, not yet,”
the nurse replied. “Like I said, it’s a bit early. But I’m sure
she’ll be here soon.” She paused for a moment, looking closely at
Rachel, and then added, “You seem to be improving really well,
Rachel. Maybe its time Dr Jones started you on some
physiotherapy.”

“Why not!”
Rachel said brightly. “I think the sooner I’m up and about, the
better!”

“Alright, then.
I’ll talk to him and see what he thinks.” Nurse Kaye plumped up
Rachel’s pillow and quickly checked the monitors before
leaving.

Rachel waited a
little while longer before retrieving the newspaper from under the
sheets. She took one of the magazines that Gavin had brought her
and put the newspaper inside it. It didn’t conceal it very well,
but it might give her a few more seconds if someone should suddenly
come in the door.

She looked at
the headlines. It was about some politician caught with his
mistress. She glanced quickly down the front page, her eyes passing
over a large picture of a scantily clad young woman in an inviting
pose. Ah! There it was!

‘New Twist in
Heart Op Case,’ it read. ‘Developments in the case against the
Manchester Royal Infirmary took a new twist today as Mr McCord, the
solicitor acting for the woman who received the heart, took out a
counter suit against Mr Williams, the man suing the MRI for
allegedly removing his wife’s heart without his permission. Mr
McCord said to reporters that his client had been put under extreme
stress by Mr Williams’s case, and that he was seeking damages to
the amount of two million pounds. Asked if he thought the amount
was unreasonable, Mr McCord replied that the amount reflected the
pain and stress that his client was being put through. He also
asked reporters to remember that his client was short of funds, and
that the case was a heavy burden. At one point he also threatened
to expose former clients of Mr Brian Morgan QC, who had failed to
pay their bills, stating that because of them, Mr Morgan was unable
to forgo his usual fee for presenting their case at court.’