The most surprising aspect of the solicitor’s office was how tidy it was. It was about as big as my bedroom; that would be about thirteen feet by ten and a large desk occupied one corner of the room. There wasn’t a single sheet of paper on it. From the desk it was possible to see the park and the lake through the window. All the books, and there were a few hundred, I estimated, were neatly arranged, but unlabelled. From what I could see, they were almost exclusively legal books. Obviously the man knew exactly where to find whatever book he needed. There was a small coffee table opposite the desk with three easy chairs around it. The man himself also looked neat and perfectly at home in the room.
Mr Kneeves welcomed me with a friendly, open, smile, and immediately offered me a coffee. I didn’t really want anything, having recently had a pot of tea, but it I felt it was offered to help put me at ease. And did I need putting at ease! Having met Neeta and forgiven her had raised my spirits no end, but while waiting for my appointment, my anger and upset at Jake’s actions had begun to take hold again. He called to his secretary to bring two coffees and invited me to sit in one of the easy chairs. He sat opposite and from a drawer in the coffee table, withdrew a pad and pen.
“Do you want a divorce?” he asked when he had read the letter from Jake’s solicitor. It was a question I hadn’t expected. I wanted Jake out of my life; I was certain of that, but I didn’t want the cost of going through with it. As we hadn’t been living apart for five years, I could contest the divorce, but I didn’t want that either. Mr Kneeves smiled when I explained my feelings. He fully understood. Many clients had similar feelings. As the basis of the divorce was that we had been living apart for at least two years, he didn’t want to know any details of why the marriage had broken down. I was relieved. Once I had confirmed the length of our separation, he started taking the details he would need.
I bristled at the thought of having to itemise and put a value on all I owned, but Jake would have to do the same. And we would both see what the other had. We would then have an opportunity to stake a claim for anything we felt was ours or jointly owned. Provided there was nothing contentious, there was no reason why the divorce should take a long time or cost too much. But Mr Kneeves would like me to pay something on account. As he pointed out, a bill at the end could be a shock; better to pay something each month, whatever I could afford. The meeting was over in less than the hour scheduled and I left slightly calmer than I had been when I went in.
My mind had been concentrating on the matter at hand during the appointment and it wasn’t until I had left the building that I considered Mr Kneeves the man. He was only a little taller than me, maybe five nine, fairly slim but looking as though he kept himself in shape. He was probably about five years older than me.
His smile had already helped put me at my ease and he was very understanding. Probably he’d seen many cases like mine and knew just the right things to say. But there was something familiar about him, I felt, yet couldn’t recall what it might be. Perhaps it was just that he put me so at ease that I felt he must be familiar. Or maybe I had seen him; seen him in town, in a shop or somewhere, and it had registered without me realising. It wasn’t the first time I had had a similar feeling. After a while, I forgot about it. When I'd felt something similar with other people, I never found out if I had really known them, and it had never gave me sleepless nights. It would probably be the same with Mr Kneeves.
It was a little after twelve and I decided to have some lunch. I didn’t have to be at work until 1:30. Remembering what Neeta had said as we left Rainbow End this morning, I decided to have lunch there.
There were still a couple of tables unoccupied when I entered and I sat myself at one of them, picked up the menu and perused it. It was a couple of minutes before the owner – what was his name? Sean, that was it – entered carrying two plates for the couple of pensioners at the next table. His eyes widened as he recognised me. “Not only was this beautiful lady my very first customer,” he told the couple, “but she is also my first repeat customer.” He asked if there was anything else the two pensioners required then, when satisfied they had all they needed, turned to me.
“Can I ask the name of my most regular patron” his Irish eyes smiled. “Rusty? That’s an odd name for such a beautiful lady,” he replied when I’d given my answer. I told him it was a long story. “Well, maybe you can tell me another time,” he smiled. “Have you decided what you would like to eat? Everything is freshly made and very tasty.” He grinned as if the food wasn’t the only thing he considered tasty. I ordered steak and kidney pie and another pot of tea. I had always loved steak and kidney pie as a young woman but hadn’t had it for several years. “Excellent choice. My favourite,” he added as he disappeared to another table to take an order for deserts.
The meal was indeed excellent. After the delicious steak and kidney pie, I had lemon meringue pie, again, he insisted, homemade. I walked into work feeling considerably happier than when I had left home in the morning. Jane immediately picked up on my changed mood and demanded to know what had happened. It took me twenty minutes to tell her about Neeta, the solicitor and Sean. She was most interested in my meeting with Sean. “I think I detect a romance,” she teased me. I told her I wasn’t going to rush into anything,