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worth raking up the sordid family history to find out.

‘I, unfortunately, have been involved in many protracted legal battles on behalf of my father; none of them had any good outcomes. I’m in search of a new solicitor to help with his appeal. My mum won’t have anything to do with the last one.’ Mark had procrastinated for weeks about his father’s appeal status. The documentation, including statements and police reports, had been sent down to his flat, the boxes dumped in the corner of his guest room.

‘Sounds stressful,’ Sophia said sympathetically. Luke was staring over her head. He had vacated the conversation.

‘Luke, Sophia, you came after all.’ Hettie was hidden behind Luke and she greeted her brother-in-law and his partner with a swift kiss on each of their cheeks. Mark looked away, embarrassed. She hadn't touched him, or even acknowledged his presence.

‘Couldn’t stay away. Sophia’s pro-bono work for sex workers puts her at the top of Jackson’s guest list,’ Luke said.

Sophia blushed.

‘And so she should be,’ said Hettie. ‘Mark, how are you?’ She quickly ran her hand down his sleeve and touched the cheap cuff-link. He was uncomfortably warm and the bow-tie was strangling him. He wished they were alone like they used to be when he met her.

Was Julianna watching them? Had she seen the little gesture of familiarity? Would it bother her? It meant nothing, of course; Hettie was a tactile person. What if that was why Jackson had Hettie followed everywhere – the possessive husband seeking any excuse to find fault with his wife? All those meetings Mark had had in her gallery, going over her accounts. She was never alone.

‘Good.’ A lie – why had he come tonight? ‘I'm delighted to be here.’

‘No companion?’ Hettie asked.

‘At a wedding.’

‘Pity. You didn’t go with her?’

‘And miss this?’ Miss what? He had little money to offer Opportunitas and no connection to its charity work. All he had done was meet a few people, smile and shake hands. What exactly was Jackson expecting him to do? He didn’t want to discuss Ellen with Hettie, who sensibly directed the conversation back to the evening’s events.

Jackson’s shadow man, Chris Moran, appeared at her side and whispered in her ear.

‘Speech time, folks. I’ve been ordered, no rephrase that, requested to direct you to the main salon for the obligatory thank yous.’ Hettie nudged her brother-in-law. ‘I have to go corral the guests.’

Sophia offered to help. Hettie weaved between people, smiling and gesturing to the double doors.

‘At least Jackson is short and to the point,’ Luke said. Jackson's succinct style of speaking was known in the workplace, too.

Luke was right, Jackson’s salutations and gratitude was brief and delivered in a congenial tone. After a round of applause, many guests left. With no taxi ordered, Mark wondered if he should make his way home, or wait to see if things took a different tack now that the formal proceedings were over.

As if to read his mind, the familiar deep voice of his host spoke in his ear. ‘Don’t leave yet.’

Turning to look over his shoulder, Mark saw Jackson usher a departing couple toward the exit. Jackson ebbed and flowed amongst his guests in a tidal fashion, his voice, more than anything, carried through the crowd.

The diehard guests congregated near the buffet having midnight snacks – the swan had lost its fine neck and head. Mark helped himself to a vol-au-vent. Sophia appeared at his side, without Luke.

‘Look, I may not be the right person, but if you want to send me details of your father’s case, I’ll look it over. Maybe I can help or recommend somebody else,’ she said with a gentle southern drawl similar to Julianna’s Cornish one.

Her suggestion stunned Mark. ‘Why? You don’t know me.’

She touched his arm. He didn't flinch. ‘Because, Mark, kindred spirits need to stick together, don’t they?’ She retracted her hand.

‘Kindred?’

‘Helping the innocent or wrongly accused is something of a calling. Few lawyers are willing to stick at it.’

‘I'm not a lawyer. I mean, it's a family matter.’

She gave a small shrug. ‘And you’re a friend of Jackson’s. Need I say any more. Let me get a pen and paper and I'll write my email address down for you. Send me the judgement summary. Let me help you.’ She spoke with a sincerity that flummoxed Mark. First Jackson had taken Mark under his wing, now Sophia. He didn't want pity or sympathy. He wanted the whole damn business resolved once and for all.

‘If you have that calling, I’m not going to say no.’ Immediately, he regretted his insolence. ‘Thank you, is what I meant to say. You see, Dad’s case isn’t…. we’re talking a life sentence...’

Sophia loaded her plate with sprigs of salad leaves. ‘If he’s innocent, does it matter? I've defended those accused of murder. Rape. The law is fallible. It fucks up when it shouldn't. People like me, and you, we shouldn't be dissuaded by what others think. Okay?’

A crusader. A passionate believer in putting things right. Sophia didn't understand Mark's motives weren't so pure. He was the dutiful son, nothing more. He hoped for innocence, if only because it would justify the cost, and the years of dealing with an insufferable mother. Ellen, even if she didn't want to hear the truth, deserved it too.

‘Okay. Thank you,’ he said with sincerity.

Luke joined them, looping his arm around his girlfriend and the conversation diverted into safer territory. Hettie approached them with shallow steps. Her eyelids were heavy, as if the mascara was laden with lead.

‘How are you bearing up’ Sophia asked.

‘My feet are killing me,’ she whispered.

‘Why don’t you sit down?’

Hettie blushed and rolled her eyes up to the ceiling. ‘Because...’ She peered over her shoulder. There was no sign of Jackson.

Mark didn't understand marriage, why somebody had

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