The Charlton Affair (2 page)

“Don’t get too excited. It looks like another cheating husband, but I’m not sure yet.”

*****

Phoebe took the groceries out of their bags and placed them on the kitchen counter. On autopilot, she placed the cold items in the fridge before turning to the dry and canned items. She pulled pans and pots from their drawers and set up a cutting board with a knife. Absently, she set about preparing a stir-fry for dinner. Her mind dwelled on what had arisen from her therapy session the day before.

Her husband was due home in an hour or so. Michael had been away in Papua New Guinea for the last four days and would no doubt be grumpy and tired. She sighed, realizing that if she was honest with herself, she was not looking forward to the evening.

The therapist, Doctor Briggs, had stressed that she should be honest with herself. She was to reflect on her true feelings. Surprisingly, Doctor Briggs had not been at all concerned about her dreams. He was far more interested in the state of her marriage and her feelings towards Michael. He had asked a lot of questions about her childhood, too.

Phoebe reflected on Doctor Briggs’ advice that dreams are not often about what a person really wants. He explained that dreams are often triggered by things that happen in daily life. Sometimes sexuality does not come into what a person dreams about. Where there are relationship issues, it’s common to dream about sex. Phoebe had not expected to leave therapy more confused than when she went in. She put the garlic and chilies aside to start slicing the carrots.

The sound of a cab pulling up in the driveway of their luxurious Hamilton home interrupted her work. She wiped her hands on her apron before removing it and then went to the front door. Summoning the appearance of pleasure she did not truly feel, she put a smile on her tired face and opened the front door to greet her husband.

*****

Michael Rawlins walked into Charlie’s chambers. Amanda watched as he looked around carefully and approached her with a tentative smile. Amanda smiled at him from behind her station at reception, hiding the instant dislike she felt for him.

“Mr. Rawlins?” she queried.

He nodded.

“Please take a seat. Mr. Franks called to say he’d be a few moments late. When he arrives you can go through.”

Michael nodded, not really looking at her, and went to the client lounge to take a seat. Amanda saw him pick up a newspaper and leaf through it. She wondered what it was about him that triggered such a strong dislike in her. It wasn’t his legal issue. While she thought his actions were probably immoral, she understood that plenty of men did all sorts of things to protect their money.

He was an average sized man, in his mid thirties, trim and presentable in a nicely tailored suit. With neatly cut dark hair, he was close shaven with uniform features except for his slightly generous mouth. If she had to sum him up, she would describe him as clean-cut. She knew he was a compliance management specialist with a mining company, but didn’t know anything else about him.

Before she finished her deliberations, Darren Franks strolled in. He gave Amanda a quick smile and a cheeky wink before approaching Michael and shaking his hand. Amanda discretely rose and left the reception area to open the door to Charlie's office, letting her know the gentlemen would be coming in shortly. As she returned to her desk, she waved Darren through. 

She saw that Darren, as usual, was sporting a bow tie and suspenders attached to his trousers, his large belly protruding above his trouser line, a nicely folded colorful handkerchief poking out from his jacket breast pocket. A dapper individual, Darren was the managing partner in his own firm of solicitors, Franks and Associates, specializing in crime, family and tax law. A tall redhead with fair skin and a marked tendency to over-indulge in rich foods, Amanda had always though he looked like Henry the Eighth without the facial hair. Darren loved gossiping and networking. She knew he was itching to chat with her but the presence of his client inhibited him.

Nosy by nature, Amanda decided to google Michael Rawlins. She was surprised when almost nothing came up. His Facebook profile was private, although there was a cover photo of him and a woman sitting close to him, his arm draped casually over her shoulders. Amanda assumed it was his wife. She was extremely attractive in a neat and tidy sort of way.
Clean-cut, like her husband
, Amanda thought. The woman had medium length auburn hair, pulled back from her heart shaped face. Her expression was sweet. She had large green eyes and a warm smile, reserved but happy nonetheless.

The next entry was a LinkedIn profile, also closed to the public but displaying some information. It said that Michael had studied business at the University of Queensland, and that he had worked for a multi-national company before returning to Australia three years ago. He was now the Compliance Manager for ShelfSeam, one of Australia’s leading petroleum and natural gas exploration companies.

According to Google, ShelfSeam had operations all over Australia and the South Pacific with a major focus on Papua New Guinea and East Timor. Reflecting on Michael, she thought it was unusual there was so little information on the internet about someone so successful.

She wondered what Charlie would make of Michael Rawlins. Darren had advised Charlie that Michael was re-thinking his marriage. Darren had not been able to get much detail out of him, apparently. Amanda had no doubt Charlie would succeed.
After all, there’s no point paying for expensive legal advice if you don’t tell your lawyer why you need it.

*****

Charlie stood up as the two men entered her office. After shaking hands, she asked them to be seated at the coffee table near her window with a view of the Brisbane River. Amanda brought in some water and hot beverages and left them alone. After the pleasantries were over, Charlie turned to Michael and said, “I’ve considered your matter, based on the information to hand.”

Michael nodded, his face remaining noncommittal.

Charlie continued, “If you decide to go ahead and have Mr. Franks engage me, I’ll do up an advice detailing the steps, if any, I think Mr. Franks should take on your behalf, and any actions you may be able to take to protect your position.”

Michael replied, “I really just want to know if the pre-nuptial agreement will hold or if I need to restructure my affairs?”

Charlie continued, “I think Mr. Franks has explained to you that Financial Agreements made under the Family Law Act are only binding when they comply with the requirements of the Act.”

Michael nodded.

Charlie continued, “The purpose of today’s meeting is for me to explain the danger you may be in. I’m sorry, but it’s not as simple as restructuring your affairs.”

Michael looked over at Darren. Darren confirmed, “Ms. Moss is an expert at litigating Family Court matters.”

Charlie said, “In my experience, the Family Court doesn’t hesitate to invalidate Financial Agreements in certain circumstances. This can depend on a lot of factors, including the conduct of the parties after the agreement is made. I have to warn you that significantly restructuring your affairs without your wife’s knowledge and consent could affect your position in respect of the agreement.”

Michael looked uncomfortable but said nothing. Charlie realized she was going to have to work harder to draw him out.

“Mr. Rawlins, anything said in these chambers, anything communicated between you and your legal advisers is subject to legal professional privilege. Nothing you tell Mr. Franks or me for the purpose of giving you expert legal advice can be revealed to another. Do you understand?”

Michael replied, “Yes.”

“Can I just confirm something?”

Michael nodded at her.

“According to the brief, your wife is an actuary?”

“That’s correct. She works for Nilson Banks, at their headquarters, here in George St.” Michael confirmed.

“Clearly your wife has the skills to perform financial investigations. That makes it even more important that you fully inform your solicitor of your circumstances,” Charlie said with a stern expression.

Michael did not look convinced.

“The only way you’re going to get accurate legal advice is to be fully open about your situation.” Charlie explained.

Michael said stubbornly, “My wife wouldn’t snoop into my affairs. She’s not the type.”

“Mr. Rawlins, you know her best, but if you choose to engage me, I have to give you the best possible advice. I can’t do that without accurate information. I want you to imagine the worst-case scenario. Imagine your wife found out everything there is to know about you and took you to court, revealing any deceptions you might have made. Going to court on a disputed property settlement could easily cost you a hundred thousand dollars if it goes to trial, and very likely more. You really should try to avoid litigation. If you have a strong position at the outset you have a better chance of negotiating an outcome instead of litigating it.”

Michael looked horrified. He nodded at her to continue.

“I will only be able to advise you properly if I fully understand your circumstances. I guarantee it will compromise you if ugly surprises start to appear down the track.”

Darren interrupted delicately, “Michael, I have to know. There’s no nice way to put it. Are you having a relationship with someone outside of your marriage?”

Michael stared ahead for a moment, clearly thinking about what to say.

Eventually, he turned to face Darren and said, “Yes, I am.”

“I know you’re re-thinking your marriage, but are you planning to leave your wife to be with your new partner?” Darren continued to probe.

“I’m hoping to. First, I need to know how it’s going to affect me financially.”

“I see. And how long have you been er…seeing the er…new party?” Darren replied, trying not to build any assumptions into his language.

“I’ve been with her for about six months now,” Michael confessed, looking a little guilty.

Charlie sighed inwardly,
why don’t these men ever tell the truth straight up? It’d save all this bother. Why do they always have to be cajoled and threatened? Why does anyone lie to their own lawyer?

“Gentlemen, I can see that more information needs to be gathered for me to be able to provide comprehensive and accurate advice.” Charlie said as she stood up.

She continued, “Mr. Rawlins, thank you for coming to see me today. If you choose to engage me, I trust you’ll be able to tell Mr. Franks everything I need to know about your personal affairs. That includes the extent of your investments locally and overseas, and especially anything you’ve done since you began seeing your new lady. It also includes information about your wife’s financial position and expected future income.”

Darren rose and Michael followed suit. They shook hands with Charlie and left together, Darren speaking quietly to Michael as they walked away. Charlie watched them leave, wondering what he planned to do if his pre-nuptial agreement wasn’t binding.
Would he stay with his wife and just continue his affair?
Will it be love or money
, she wondered, unimpressed with the whole situation.

Chapter Two

Phoebe woke in a sweat. Again. She reached over and switched on her bedside lamp. There was no point going back to sleep. Michael was away again, so she didn't have to worry about disturbing him. Sitting up and leaning back against the bed-head, she waited for her breathing to slow.

The dream had been more intense than ever, if that was possible. Phoebe was shocked at the wanton and uninhibited things she had done to the woman in her dream and even more disturbed by how she felt now that she was awake. Confused and frightened, she tried to examine her deeper feelings, as Doctor Briggs had told her to.

Once she got past her fear and confusion, Phoebe discovered that her heart was swollen with more than just sexual desire for the woman in her dreams. She felt thwarted by a deep longing, an intense need to know and understand her in every sense. Able to clearly visualize her delicate features and petite frame, Phoebe couldn't shake the certainty she was real. She was convinced the woman was out there somewhere, waiting to be found.

*****

Amanda typed away as the Dictaphone played Charlie's voice in her ears. With her long wavy brown hair tucked back, away from the earphones, she listened intently as she typed. She had a pile of things in her tray to get through. After finishing off the letter, she printed it and placed in Charlie’s tray for her to check and sign. Next, she turned her attention to preparing a draft client agreement and notice in relation to Michael Rawlins.

As she filled in the template documents with the relevant details and printed them out for Charlie to review, she thought about Michael Rawlins again. Charlie hadn’t said much about him after he came in the day before. If she had found him at all interesting, she would have mentioned it. All she’d said was to return the brief to Darren so he could update it. Charlie hated having stuff lying around she wasn’t currently working on. Unlike most other barristers Amanda had worked for, her office was always organized.

Amanda took the brief and started to pack it up. She decided to have a quick scan of it, even though she didn’t really have time.
Ah, there it is. The wife’s name is Phoebe.

*****

Phoebe yawned at her desk, trying to focus on the set of figures on her screen. Sipping her cold coffee, she tried to concentrate again. She was about half way through the page when her door opened.

“How come you’re always so tired these days, sweets? Got a new love interest? Been playing up while Michael’s away?” Roman Coustas teased her mercilessly from the doorway of her well-appointed office, his eyebrows wiggling at her suggestively.

Phoebe laughed. Roman always said the most outrageous things. They had been working together for more than five years. Flamboyantly gay, Roman was the most unlikely accountant you’d ever find. He wore the latest most fashionable suits and always sported stylish hair and jewelry. Impeccably adorned with the perfect tan and always in excellent shape, thanks to his personal trainer, he was also ridiculously good looking.

Not just big on externals, Roman was also a whiz at planning, and he got along with clients really well. With her risk analysis skills and insurance expertise, together they had rescued many a wayward business venture. As junior partners in the firm, they no longer had to work fourteen hours per day to get ahead, but the pressure was still on if they expected to make senior partner.

“Seriously love, you do look tired. I’m heading out for a bite. Want to come? You could at least have a coffee?”

Phoebe automatically went to say no thanks, choosing to work through lunch as she invariably did, but for once she stopped herself.

“You know what? Count me in.” She smiled at Roman.

It was Roman’s turn to be surprised. Phoebe’s secretary was equally surprised as she exited her office on Roman’s arm, telling her, “Please don’t send any calls to me for an hour or so.”

*****

“OK, spill it, sister! What’s got you so tired?” Roman pressed, leaning towards Phoebe over their little table. The upmarket food court, opposite the courts complex, and next to the newly refurbished high-rise headquarters of a major mining company, catered to all sorts of professionals in a hurry to eat. Perpetually busy, it was a veritable who’s who of the Brisbane legal profession. Phoebe wondered why she had allowed Roman to steer her here, suspecting he chose the place because of his addiction to networking and gossip. He intermittently scanned the crowd, pointing out notable figures to her as they ate.

Focusing on her, he demanded, “I want all the gory details!”

Phoebe laughed at him, “Yes, my life is just full of gory details. Not!”

Roman smiled, teasing her again, “Yes, it’s true. Sadly, you are the princess of boring, despite my efforts to get you out and about…”

She swatted him on the shoulder, pretending to be offended.

He became serious, saying, “You’ve been yawning for weeks and weeks. You’re not just tired. I can tell there’s something going on. Is your marriage having some problems?” Roman’s clear blue eyes probed her weary green ones.

Roman’s keen perception and sensitivity made it impossible for her to hide her feelings from him. His intuition was faultless.

“Well, we have grown apart…”

Roman leaned in even closer, “I knew it! Tell me everything, sweets,” he commanded.

Shocked that she would crumble so easily, and at the depth of her disclosures, she told Roman almost everything. She explained that slowly and subtly, she felt distanced from Michael, especially over the last six months. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but Michael’s travelling had been increasing and they had been spending less time together. They had stopped going away together. Their holiday home at the Sunshine Coast resort town of Noosa had been left vacant every weekend. And even more shocking, she was not actually that distressed about it.

Roman nodded sagely at her disclosure that she was in therapy, saying, “Darling, I’ve been in therapy for years. I’m so glad you’re getting some support.”

Looking at her with his piercing eyes, he asked probingly, “Sweets, if you’re not as worried about all of this as you expected, what’s really keeping you awake at night?”

Phoebe blushed deeply, raising Roman’s index of suspicion to new heights. Before he could press her for the secret, someone tapped him on the shoulder. Startled, he turned to find Charlie Moss standing behind him, smiling.

Charlie greeted him warmly, “Roman, how are you? I haven’t seen you for a while. We should catch up.”

Nodding in agreement, Roman replied, “Charlie darling, you’re looking great, as always. Just finished at court?”

Relieved that he had completely forgotten her secret for the moment, Phoebe looked up at Roman’s friend. Her jaw dropped. She stared in utter shock as the woman from her dreams stood there having a casual conversation with Roman. Time slowed. The continuous noise of the vibrant food court evaporated. Phoebe could hear only the thumping of her racing heart and the beautiful rich tones of the woman’s voice. All she could think was,
this can’t possibly be happening
.

Eyes wide and struggling not to keep gaping, she saw Charlie look at her, and reach out a hand to her. Roman must have introduced them, but Phoebe had heard nothing. Numbly, she took the proffered hand, going along with Charlie’s shaking motion. The small warm hand fit perfectly around her shaking palm and fingers. The touch electrified her. Suddenly she experienced a flashback to a recent dream featuring that very hand. 

Shooting sensations stung her belly, firing all the way up into her chest. She blushed furiously. Her breathing became tight. Somehow she managed to get a few inane words out. It was impossible, but the woman was even more gorgeous in real life than she had been in Phoebe’s dreams. Her eyes were a shade of blue-grey that Phoebe had never seen before. Her features were so fine, so delicate. Phoebe felt an intense urge to kiss her expressive lips and hold her close. Not just at that moment, but always.

With a few parting words to Roman, Charlie left them at their table. Phoebe was simultaneously devastated and relieved. Suddenly feeling faint, Phoebe took a sip of her bottled water and then clutched the table, trying to steady herself. Her flawless complexion went from an acute blush to a deathly pallor in seconds.

Staring at her in alarm, Roman said, “Oh my God, Phoebs, you look like you’re going to faint?”

Phoebe tried to smile at him in reassurance but then her eyes rolled back and she slumped in her chair.