Dishonour. Helen Black

just don’t have anything to say.’

      Lilly swallowed and waited. She had known Jack a long time—years before they started dating—and she had never known him short of words.

      ‘The thing is, Lilly…’

      ‘Ha!’ She gulped down the last of her food with a triumphant smile. ‘I knew you couldn’t do it.’

      Jack went to the sink and rinsed his cup.

      ‘It’s not a bloody game, woman.’

      ‘Then don’t act like a child,’ she said. ‘Whatever’s on your mind, just spit it out.’

      ‘What’s the point?’

      ‘Because you’re dying to tell me.’ She pointed a greasy finger at him. ‘You can’t help yourself.’

      Jack put his cup to drain and headed for the door.

      ‘Where are you going?’ she asked.

      ‘For a run.’

      ‘Without a word?’

      ‘Like I said,’ his shoulders slumped, ‘no point.’

      The gear crunched as Lilly tried to depress the clutch. With her feet in this state, driving was a very bad idea but asking Jack for a lift to work was not an option.

      She’d known he’d be pissed about her taking on Raffy’s case but the silent treatment was unbearable. Why could men never just say whatever they were thinking and move on?

      Yes, she had said she would take it easy, but she was a solicitor, for God’s sake. Should she really turn down murder cases?

      Jack wouldn’t be happy unless she was tucked up in bed until she gave birth, everything safe and sound.

      She loved Jack very much and wanted to make a life with him, but she was starting to suspect that she couldn’t do what was necessary to keep him happy. He wanted her to give up the work with children. The work she loved. Even Sam, who seemed to lose out so often in terms of her time, had never said that.

      She’d agreed while she was pregnant to avoid the stresses and strains of certain work, and to be fair, when Anwar first walked into her office she couldn’t have guessed she’d be plunged into a murder case. But to turn her back on the Khans now just wasn’t an option. At least not for Lilly.

      Jack wanted to change her and at this moment she couldn’t bear to think what that might mean for them.

      The journey to work was a nightmare of jerking and grinding as her foot slipped off the clutch. She was relieved to arrive outside her office. From her car she waved at Taslima, who was waiting outside, today’s jewelled hijab twinkling in the sun.

      No doubt that would be something else Jack would complain about: taking on staff she could ill afford.

      When Lilly tried to apply the brake, her foot simply would not bend and she overshot her parking spot by three yards, hitting the kerb and a litter bin.

      ‘Shit.’ She yanked on the handbrake.

      Taslima ran to the car, her face full of concern.

      ‘Are you OK?’

      Lilly pulled herself out, letting the car door take her weight.

      ‘Can you drive?’

      Taslima had never been to court before and excitement clenched her stomach into a knot.

      After university she’d intended to go to bar school but then she’d been introduced to Kaden by a friend. He had pursued her with an intensity that enchanted Taslima and within months they were engaged. Her mother had warned her to wait, to finish her education before marriage, but Taslima was sure she knew best. In her mind she could have it all, the handsome husband and glittering career.

      Once their vows were exchanged Kaden wanted to start a family. He begged with the same intensity he had used when they first met. Bar school could wait, he reasoned. After all, she could reapply later when they were settled.

      Taslima had been swept along with it like a good wife. She should have known better. She should have listened to her mother. She’d be qualified now, earning her own living, instead of being forced to go cap in hand to Mrs Roberts.

      But there was no point wasting time on regrets. Today was what mattered, and at least she had a job. She was moving forward. The past was exactly that, and there was no reason anyone need ever know about it. A fresh start.

      Lilly led them into the Youth Court at Luton, pointing the way through the crowds of teenagers that shouted to one another across the foyer. Groups of boys, baseball caps pulled down past their eyebrows, jostled each other with their elbows. The atmosphere, though good-natured, felt rowdy; as if it could change.

      ‘All right, miss?’ a young black boy, the hood of both his jacket and his jumper pulled tight over his cap, stood in Lilly’s way.

      ‘You working undercover, Jermaine?’ she asked.

      He formed his fingers into the shape of a gun and pretended to shoot Lilly.

      ‘I’d fall down dead, Jermaine,’ Lilly patted her bump, ‘but I don’t think I could get back up again.’

      ‘Who’s the baby’s father, miss?’

      ‘Brad Pitt.’

      ‘Good one,’ he laughed.

      ‘Never mind me, what are you doing here?’ Lilly asked. ‘Tell me you haven’t been nicked again.’

      The boy stepped back in mock horror and spoke directly to Taslima.

      ‘She’s so suspicious, ain’t she?’

      ‘Given where we are, it’s a fair question,’ Taslima said.

      He shook his head at them both. ‘Women. You always got to be so negative.’

      ‘Years of experience have worn me down,’ said Lilly, and gestured to Taslima that they should move along.

      Taslima was bowled over by Lilly’s easy rapport with the boy. She could never do that.

      ‘Client?’ she asked.

      ‘On and off.’

      ‘Not today?’

      Lilly opened a door marked ‘Crown Prosecution Service’ and ushered Taslima inside.

      ‘He’s not in court for a case today,’ she told Taslima. ‘At least I hope not.’

      ‘So why on earth is he here?’

      ‘To hang with his mates,’ Lilly said. ‘A day out.’

      Taslima assumed she was joking until the woman at the table in the middle of the room spoke up.

      ‘They treat this place like a bloody youth club,’ she said.

      Not a joke then.

      The woman, who Taslima assumed was the prosecutor, sat in a sea of files.

      ‘Nice to see you, Kerry,’ said Lilly. ‘You’ve lost weight.’

      Taslima had to swallow a gasp. Lilly was irreverent but surely that was a jibe too far, considering Kerry was at least fourteen stones, her thighs spreading across the plastic chair, the fat melting over the sides.

      ‘Another ten pounds,’ said Kerry.

      Ah, a diet.

      Lilly nodded to her own feet, which were almost square with water retention. ‘I think you’re giving it all to me.’

      Kerry laughed but Taslima was no stranger to animosity and could feel it hovering in the background. This woman was clearly no fan of her new boss.

      ‘So who are you here for?’ Kerry asked.

      ‘Raffique Khan,’ Lilly