The Playmaker by Lane Swift

Author:Lane Swift [Swift, Lane]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Lesbian romance, Contemporary
Publisher: Less Than Three Press, LLC
Published: 2015-04-08T00:00:00+00:00

Seven

Friday morning, Meg didn't wake until ten. Emerging from her room, she wasn't surprised to find the flat empty. Ann had left a note: Make yourself at home. These keys are yours.

Meg called in sick to college, leaving a brief message with her personal tutor explaining her absence. She also texted Ann to thank her again.

The view from the living room window stole the rest of the day: a jagged skyline, the sleepy-grey river, the odd boat passing, seagulls flying overhead. When Ann came home a little before six, Meg was still in her pyjamas.

Ann looked beaten. "How about a takeaway?" she suggested.

"I'm not really hungry. But I could make you something."

"I take it you haven't looked in the fridge or the kitchen cupboards."

"Um, no?"

Ann smiled and Meg was lifted out of the doldrums. Takeaway it was, then.

They sat opposite each other at the tiny melamine dining table with London's version of the Orient laid out between them in foil trays. One sniff as it had come through the front door was enough to get Meg salivating like a starving dog.

She'd barely eaten for two days. She needed fuel.

A few mouthfuls into beef in black bean sauce, and her idling body got the kick-start it needed. "Tell me about your job," she said, helping herself to more rice.

Little by little, Ann explained her job as a barrister in the family courts. Meg was interested, curious, and pressed her for more and more details. Up to this point, she'd had no idea what barristers actually did for a living.

Without objection, Ann obliged until suddenly her voice dropped and she looked away. "It's a rewarding job. I like it most of the time. The domestic violence and the child abuse cases, though…"

"Are there many?"

"More than you could ever imagine. What makes the news is the tip of the iceberg."

Ann took a long swig of her beer, pointed the neck of the bottle in Meg's direction and said seriously, "Don't ever think you're a bad person just because you made a temporary mess of your love life. You're not a bad person. Believe me, I've seen plenty enough of them; I should know."

Not for the first time, it was difficult for Meg to reconcile the image of such a serious and intellectually demanding profession with someone who she'd only seen messing about or knee-deep in a scrum. Ann had the stature and quick wit, for certain, but still… Meg couldn't resist remarking, "I can't imagine you in a wig and gown."

"I don't wear one. No one does in the family courts. Not usually."

"Oh."

"You sound disappointed." Ann drained her beer and leant back in her seat. Meg could feel her long, long legs sliding either side of her chair.

"Yeah. I am, a bit. Still, I suppose it makes it a bit less intimidating."

"Exactly."

"Does it keep you up at night? Do you find it hard to leave the bad cases behind?"

"Sometimes. Which is one of the reasons I play rugby: I get out all my

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