Free A Poisoned Mind by Natasha Cooper

whichever of her failings he was trying to assess.
    ‘Not personally. But I know all about her: wrong side of the tracks made good. Some people can’t stick her; others think she’s a bit of hero. She’s very tough in court, however gentle she may seem outside.’
    Angie put a hand against her chest, feeling her heartbeat speed up. ‘Don’t. Please. I’m scared enough as it is.’
    ‘You should be fine, so long as you stick to the point,’ he said with a slight doubt in his drawly voice, as though he didn’t have half as much confidence in her as he had in himself. ‘You must press the other side all the time on all their weak arguments and always address the judge with respect. Whatever else you let slip, never lose hold of that. Respect for the bench is essential.’
    Angie had never enjoyed being told what to do, even in the old uncertain days, even by people she knew well.
    ‘You sound as though you know a lot about it,’ she said coldly, glad to see more guests arriving. As soon as she’d found a way to get rid of this one, she’d find somebody less arrogant.
    ‘Don’t forget you’ll have Greg with you,’ he said, ignoring
her comment, ‘dealing with your papers and reminding you of anything you may have forgotten, so—’
    ‘Not Fran?’ Angie was so shocked she didn’t even notice she’d interrupted him. Her hand suddenly felt slippery on the thick glass.
    ‘Didn’t Greg tell you? I warned him that the combination of you and Fran could look too female. The courts are still a traditional sort of place, and you don’t want your case imprinted on the judge’s mind as a bit of girly froth. If you have a bloke with you, you’ll avoid that. I must go in a minute, but I’ll send Fran over with another drink for you. Give me your glass.’
    She handed it over obediently and watched him cross the room to Fran, saying something that made her laugh and blow him a kiss. Then he moved on to Greg, who left the little knot of people he’d been entertaining to talk privately to Ben. They had their heads together and it looked as though Ben was asking for something. Greg shook his head and Ben appeared disappointed but almost deferential, which seemed odd.
    Someone behind Angie was telling a joke, which aroused gales of laughter and made her feel excluded from everything. What was she was doing with all these cheerful people, who all knew each other so well and treated her as a cross between a museum exhibit and an inadequate entry for an agricultural show? Ben stuck out his hand and Greg shook it, then opened the door and ushered him out.
    ‘Here, love,’ Fran said, bringing a full glass of wine. Angie grabbed her opportunity.
    ‘Who is Ben?’
    ‘Just a neighbour.’ Fran looked worried. ‘Why?’
    ‘He seemed to know an awful lot about me and my case.’
    ‘Greg found out that he’s a lawyer, so we started to ask him things whenever we got stuck. You don’t mind, do you?’
    Angie rubbed her forehead, wishing she’d grown out of paranoia as well as the need to hide her fears.
    ‘I suppose not. I was just shocked when he casually told me you wouldn’t be sitting with me in court, as though I ought to know. When did you decide?’
    ‘Only this evening, love.’ Fran smoothed Angie’s hair back from her forehead. ‘When Greg phoned Ben to invite him to the party at the last minute and they were chatting about the case, Ben pointed out how it might look if you and I were sitting together in front of the judge. Greg and I talked it over – you were changing at the time, I think – and decided he was probably right.’
    ‘Angie! Remember me?’ The bright attractive American voice came as a welcome distraction.
    She turned away from Fran, to see the plump smiling young man who’d done the preliminary research into the dangers of benzene.
    ‘Hi, Marty,’ she said, kissing him. ‘Lovely to see you! You know, your notes are the clearest anybody provided. You must be a proper