‘How the hell did you get our bank details?’ I asked in a voice much calmer than I expected. Most law firms have overdrafts–expenses are high and client fees can be slow in coming in. The banks are happy to extend credit because they have the deeds of the partners’ houses, but recently Lothian and St Clair had rather overplayed this side of things. Added to a credit crunch and overall financial meltdown, we were in deep shit. I was pissed that Marshall had investigated our finances, as well as being amazed that he’d got through every shred of data protection there was, but, on the other hand, the fee plus the retainer would pay the bank off and maybe I would sleep easier at night. It was a tricky one. I didn’t even want to imagine at this stage what I was going to have to defend.

‘No,’ I said, handing the cheque back to him. I never had claimed to have any business sense. ‘No thank you, Dr Marshall.’

‘Oh dear. I’m sorry, Ms McLennan. I’m sorry. I thought it was standard business practice to know about a lawyer before hiring their firm, so believed that if you agreed to act for me you could have the fifty thousand pounds consultation fee and put the rest in the firm, account as a retainer.’ This time there was no smile on his face. I said nothing. ‘I may not need your expertise–one can only hope–but if I should, then I would expect you to drop everything and act on my behalf.’

‘Do you have a case outstanding?’ I asked, unable to stop myself from trying to find out more.

‘I’d prefer not to discuss the potential legal action until it happens. You do have my sincere apology if there was anything about this whole business that you might have found distasteful. Do we have a deal, Ms McLennan? One thing I can assure you of, if I am charged I am innocent.’ He held out his hand again. I’d cooled down and needed to think about this second chance, not that I wanted him to know that.

I imagined Lavender’s face–and words–if I turned down this much money.

And Kailash.

And Grandad.

And the other partners.

Shit, shit, shit.

‘Deal.’ I shook his hand.

When the door closed behind Graham Marshall, I waved the cheques in the air and did my victory dance. I was slightly disgusted at myself for being bought, but I was also delighted that things might be on more solid ground with the firm. And, as Marshall had said, he might not even need me–in which case, it would be the easiest fifty grand I’d ever made.