granddaughter. But not as young as he first thought. Late twenties.
âWeâve thought about it.â
âWhoâs we?â
âWe are me and Selwyn Loo. Lead counsel for Sierra Legal.â Seeing his blank expression, she adds, âHe turned down a Rhodes to work with Sierra. Heâs a ranked chess player. He can take on half a dozen tables in a blindfold match.â
âThis is not a game, Ms. Rudnicki. We are not contending for a trophy.â
She gives him a tired look. âIâm going to light a hump, anyone mind?â
Arthur isnât sure if he minds. Then he realizes she means a Camelâs cigaretteâshe brings out a pack. The smoking environmentalist.
She takes a long pull, exhales. âOkay, Iâm now ready to say something to you, Arthur Beauchamp. I donât mind the hostility, I shed it like a duck sheds rain. But maybe you should get with the program. Thereâs your partner, a tough, beautiful, fantastic lady, putting herself on the line, holding off the barbarians at the Gap, while you, this great icon of the courtroom, are displaying a totally shallow attitude, complaining about losing a good cook. What is she, your employee ?â
That comes like a slap. Before Arthur can devise a face-saving response, Reverend Al does crisis counselling, signalling Rudnicki to rein herself in, putting an arm on Arthurâs shoulder. âYouâre upset, old boy, and you have every reason to be. As I would be had Zoëâs name been pulled. Youâre welcome any night to share our home and our table.â
They have exposed the great icon for what he is, selfish, concerned about his comforts and his stomach. He must stop feeling sorry for himself. Poor Margaret, three weeks of enduring the gross inanities of the local literary lion.
He can barely meet Rudnickiâs eye. âSierra Legal is rendering its services pro bono, I presumeâon a matter of grave importance to our island. I should not have been unwelcoming. I apologize, Ms. Rudnicki. Your first name is Lotus?â
âL-o-t-i-s. Lotis Morningstar Rudnicki.â
Counter-culture parents with a spelling disability? Or named after the nymph Lotisâwho, to escape Priapus, god of fertility, turned herself into a flower? When Arthur feels awkward, he will often spout Latin, and does so now, pompously, a line from Terence that he hastily interprets:âMany a time have great friendships sprung from bad beginnings.â
Lotis smiles widely, amused by this Latin-rapping stuffed shirt. âOkay, sorry I cracked on you. Anyway, youâre right, Selwyn and I donât have much courtroom experience. Weâre hoping youâll join us at counsel table.â
âI regret to say, Lotis, that I am retired. My role will be to applaud vigorously from the sidelines.â
She hesitates, as if considering a further appeal. âI heard you saw the eaglesâ mating display. Will you sign an affidavit?â
âOf course, if it will serve a purpose.â He finds himself echoing a local refrain: âWhat is the law?â
âSection thirty-four of the Wildlife Act makes it an offence to take, injure, molest, or destroy the nest of an eagle, peregrine falcon, gyrfalcon, osprey, heron, or burrowing owl, or, for that matterâsubsection câ any nest if itâs occupied by a bird or an egg.â
Recited from memory, it would seem. Arthur entertains a hope that a brain lurks beneath that horror-show hairdo. But he cannot remotely imagine her or this Loo fellow defending Margaret. He will hire a leading barrister, a battle-scarred labour lawyer at ease with injunctions.
Arthur calls to Slappy, but the dog returns to his station at the tree and lies down. Semper fidelis. Arthur must get back. There are arrangements to be made, chores to be done. Life will be lived differently for a while.
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5
N ick Faloon is relieved to have wormed out of the main block to what
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