‘Any news?’ Mikael asked, because Demyan’s wife Alina was due to give birth soon.
‘We have a little girl—Annika.’ Demyan said, and Mikael rolled his eyes at the sound of his tough friend sounding so emotional. ‘She’s beautiful. Her hair is curly, like Alina’s…’
Demyan went on to describe interminable details to Mikael.
All babies had blue eyes, Mikael thought.
‘Congratulations,’ Mikael said. ‘Am I to visit while Alina is still in the hospital? What is the protocol?’
Demyan laughed. He took no offence. He knew that Mikael had no concept of family, for Mikael’s upbringing had been even harsher than Demyan’s.
‘You don’t have to come to the hospital,’ Demyan said, ‘but once this case is over it would be good if you could visit us before you disappear onto your yacht. I’m really looking forward to showing Annika off.’
‘I’ll be there,’ Mikael said. ‘It is closing arguments over the next couple of days, and then we await the verdict.’
‘How is the trial going?’ Demyan asked. ‘It is all over the news.’
‘Long,’ came Mikael’s honest answer. ‘It has been a very long couple of months.’
It had been an isolated couple of months too.
He always pretty much locked himself away from the world during a trial and, he admitted to Demyan, he was more than a little jaded from sitting with his client day in, day out.
‘He’s a fortunate man to have such a good solicitor.’
‘Barrister,’ Mikael corrected. ‘One day you will get it right. Anyway, enough about the trial. Go back to your beautiful wife and daughter, I am very pleased to hear the good news.’
Rather you than me, Mikael thought as he ended the call.
When Demyan had told him that he was marrying again Mikael had offered to draw up a watertight pre-nup this time, given how Demyan’s first wife had ripped him off for years.
Demyan had refused.
Fool! Mikael had not just thought it but had said it straight to Demyan’s face, but he had been told that he was far too cynical.
Guilty!
Absolutely Mikael was cynical—he believed nothing anyone told him and had been proved right numerous times.
Mikael trusted and needed no one in his life, for he had never had anyone.
There were a few vague memories of a communal flat when he was growing up, but not one person in particular he’d been able to turn to. Mikael had been his own protector—even when he had found himself on the streets.
Especially then.
When he was a teenager Igor, a government worker, had stepped in and given Mikael an identity, a surname, an assumed date of birth and then a home.
Igor was the reason Mikael was driving to chambers now to prepare for court—he was the reason Mikael believed absolutely in the need for a solid defence. For without one justice could never be truly served.
He did not want to think today of Igor; instead his eyes moved from the procession of royal cars to his dashboard, where the mileage read six hundred and forty-nine. He would be bored with his new toy by the time it read one thousand, but for now the low silver sports car was his new baby.
Finally the procession passed and the traffic inched forward.
Mikael arrived at chambers and spoke to Wendy, his clerk, for a few moments. His world had centred around this trial for a very long while, and all he wanted was the arguments delivered, the jury out, the verdict in and then to get away.
He’d take one of his toys to the water—he didn’t even want crew.
Then Mikael changed his mind.
A couple of crew might be essential.
He had no intention of cooking or cleaning.
Perhaps Mandy could join him for a couple of days too?
Or Pearl?
Mikael soon put all such thoughts out of his mind and sat for a quiet period in his office, preparing himself for the day ahead and getting back to the real love of his life.