face. The wily old fox was used to reading witnesses.
‘Tell me things haven’t got that bad?’
He moved on to shaking my shoulders roughly.
I shrugged him off.
‘Brodie – the Edinburgh Bar is gunning for you. You are building a practice that is enviable – but you’ve no protection. The clients that you are representing are coming to you from somewhere. Someone else’s pocket is empty since you’ve got so popular.’
I continued to look as disinterested as I could muster. ‘Other lawyers,’ Kailash butted in. ‘You’re taking money from their purses and they’re getting worried and angry.’
‘If they can’t keep their clients happy, that’s their problem.’
I sounded more bullish than I felt.
I thought of all the complaints from the Law Society that I had received. Their headed notepaper was usually green – every letter I had was in red. Warning letters. Even Lavender was worried.
‘Don’t take that tone with me – I know better,’ said my mother. ‘The Bar might be full of absolute tossers, but they’re razor-sharp when it comes to protecting their purses, and I, for one, wouldn’t cross swords with them lightly.’
‘Well then, it’s lucky someone in this family has guts,’ I responded.
Kailash and Grandad looked at me. I was a bit worried; the seriousness of my situation had stopped them laughing out loud at me even though they should have. I was behaving like an impudent young pup – no wonder they were treating me like a child. I was Grandad’s last blood relative, so I really couldn’t doubt that my best interests were of paramount importance to him.
And yet I tried.
My grandad tried again to make me see sense.
‘Brodie – I know about the letters of complaint. I’ve tried to buy you time. I’ve been told that if you mend your ways, pull back on your empire building a bit, and stop annoying everyone in the entire field, then they will be put on the backburner until we can find a different path for you.’
I was furious. How dare they lecture me like this?
‘Might I remind you both that my life was going well until you two became involved in it again. “The rising star of the Scottish Bar” – that was me. And then you …’ I pointed at Kailash, ‘decided to settle your differences with my senior partner by involving him in a sex scandal and splashed it all over the papers. So what happens then? My firm gets plunged into debt because of the defamation charge going against us and unless my firm pays off its overdraft then I’ll be bankrupt and unable to practise on my own? Thanks to you, Mummy dearest, I’m looking at a future of being someone else’s cash cow, so don’t start telling me what to do when the best thing is probably that you keep well out of things.’
Kailash didn’t look fazed in the slightest. I suppose a lot worse had been said to her.
‘Brodie,’ she went on, as if I hadn’t spoken, ‘you play the cards you’re dealt. If you could win carrying on the way you are – making enemies left, right and centre – I’d say go ahead. But you simply can’t win.’
‘You don’t trust me?’ I asked her. ‘You don’t trust me to do things properly?’
‘Too bad,’ she cut back. ‘Your life is at stake now – and that’s far more important.’
‘You’re using a lot of gambling terminology, Kailash,’ I commented, trying to move the conversation on. ‘Are the rumours correct?’
‘Yes, they are. For once. I’ve taken over the Danube Street casino.’
She mentioned it as if she’d bought a new handbag. And that was the rub. I knew that all I would have to do would be to ask either of them for money to buy my way out of the firm. Lothian and St Clair would see the back of me and I would be, technically, free. I knew that Kailash and my grandad would give me as much as I needed without a second thought, but my damned pride insisted that I had to do it my own way. If I did rely on the money of others, who would I choose