Free Judicial Whispers by Caro Fraser

was saying. She would murder that girl. This pompous prig of a junior barrister was making her feel like a complete incompetent.
    ‘Oh, no need,’ said Anthony, leaning back in his chair and snapping an elastic band between his fingers. ‘I have to come up your way at the end of the afternoon, anyway. I’ll drop by and pick them up.’ He paused. ‘I suppose that will give you enough time to find them?’
    ‘Yes, Mr Cross. Plenty of time. I do hope this isn’t taking you out of your way?’ Distinctly frosty.
    ‘No trouble at all. Goodbye.’
    He gave a little laugh as he hung up. Nice voice. Probably fat and over forty. Ah, well. He would see.
    When she had put the phone down, Rachel went out to Felicity’s desk. She looked down at the jumble of work, the copy of
Bella
, and at the empty chair.
    ‘Doris, do you happen to know where Felicity is?’ she asked.
    Doris took off her earphones and opened her small eyes wide. ‘Ooh, no, I don’t, Miss Dean. Was it something urgent? I can always fit it into Mr MacBride’s work, if you like. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.’ She gave Rachel her marshmallow smile, her little eyes fastened inquisitively, helpfully, on Rachel’s face. Rachel returned the smile sweetly; she did not like Doris.
    ‘No, thank you, Doris. I just wish to speak to her.’
    ‘Right you are, Miss Dean.’ Doris gave a simper, then added, ‘She’s a little bit scatterbrained, Felicity. You know.’ At this Louise gave a snort, her eyes fastened on the screen in front of her, fingers flashing over the keys.
    Rachel thought she had a pretty good idea where Felicity might be. And indeed, there she was, relaxing in the Ladies with a cigarette, chatting to two of the filing clerks. She had her shoes off and was leaning against the cubicles. When she saw Rachel, she put her cigarette out with a stubbing hiss in one of the basins, slipped on her shoes, and with a breathless ‘See you, girls!’ followed Rachel back to her office. Rachel said nothing until they were in her room with the door closed. Doris’s eyes peeped over the top of her word processor and then she ducked down out of sight.
    ‘Felicity,’ said Rachel in a normal sort of voice, ‘do you remember those documents that were to go out with the instructions to counsel on the
Valeo Dawn?’
    Felicity nodded, then hesitated, and then shook her head. ‘Yes, I remember them. But it wasn’t the
Valeo Dawn,
it was the
Valeo Trader.’
    ‘No, Felicity,’ replied Rachel, her voice still kindly. ‘The documents belonged to the
Valeo Dawn
.’
    ‘Oh.’ Felicity looked thoughtful, then contrite. She wound a curl of brown hair round her finger. ‘Oh. I sent them to Richards Butler. I thought they were on the
Valeo Trader.
’
    ‘Felicity, you may have sent some of them to Richards Butler, but not all of them. You have, whatever you have done, made a real mess of things. You realise those were original documents, don’t you?’ Rachel was angry now.
    Felicity looked at her questioningly, and Rachel sighed. Why did she, of all people, have to be lumbered with Felicity? ‘And now I shall have to ring round trying to track them down.
Please,
’ she looked beseechingly at Felicity, ‘when I give you documents to send out, double-check that you’re sending them to the right people. You only had to
look
at them to see which vessel they referred to! Honestly …’ If Felicity were Simon’s secretary, or any of the other partners’, she’d have been given her marching orders weeks ago. As it was, Rachel knew she didn’t have the guts. And, anyway, there were some things at which Felicity wasn’t completely hopeless. She looked sadly at her for a moment, and then said, ‘Felicity, why have you got coloured string tied round your wrists?’
    Felicity glanced down, then beamed a smile at Rachel. ‘That’s for my driving lesson after work. So’s I remember which way I’m going. Red for left, blue for right. I’m not very good at left