Chapter 1

Isobel Harris shook her head in wonder. "I cannot believe this woman has her child's best interests at heart," she mused. "I reckon she's just out to give her ex grief." She read the letter again.

"Dear Miss Harris,

I am sorry to bother you again but my former wife continues to try and curtail my time with our son. The court was quite clear in its ruling: alternate weekends (Friday evening to Sunday evening) and half the school holidays. Because of business commitments I have to arrange my visit weekends a long time in advance. She will text me on a Wednesday to ask me to take Larry on the Thursday evening as she is going away for the weekend knowing full well that I am in Spain or somewhere and rushing home on Friday to pick him up that evening. When I reply that I can't she says she will take him with her and I will just have to wait until the next prearranged weekend. I have made notes of all the occasions she has done this and similar things.

I am concerned also that she is not looking after him as well as she might. Over the last three months he has had four teeth removed by the dentist who attributes their decay to excessive sweets. Larry innocently corroborates her view and is embarrassed at school by the gaps. He is also embarrassed by his long hair which his mother will not have cut despite pleas by both of us. Consequently he is teased about being a girl: something hurtful for a six year old.

Are there any steps that can be taken to ensure that my former wife abides by the spirit of the court ruling? The last thing any of us want is for Larry to be taken into care but is there anything that can be done to help her look after him better and more considerately?

Yours sincerely

Arthur Corsellis"

Isobel shook her head again. "It's time we pulled out the stops," she thought. She picked up the file and walked down the passage to Henry Honey's, one of the senior partners, office.

"Is he free?" she asked his secretary and on receiving the affirmative knocked on his door.

"Can you spare me a few minutes, Henry?" she asked.

"Of course, my dear, what's the problem?"

"I've got a case that's been dragging on and on. I think the mother is deliberately bending the visitation rules, is out primarily to rile my client and probably to alienate him from their son. It appears too that she is not looking after him as well as she might."

"Go on."

"I have written to her solicitors several times but it appears to achieve nothing. She sacked one and the second resigned. The third one has been going a month and I'd be prepared to bet that he won't last long either. Frankly, Henry, I think she's a ghastly woman."

"No doubt, Isobel, but don't say that to anyone else," grinned Henry.

Isobel smiled back. "I wouldn't dream of it."

"So what do you want to do?"

"Give her the works somehow."

"Any ideas or are you asking me for them?"

"I'd like to take it to court again but, if my client is prepared to foot the bill, enlist the help of a barrister who may be more effective with the judge than me."

"Sounds all right to me."

Isobel smiled again. "I wondered if you could put me on to someone. I need someone good and don't know where to begin to look.

Henry picked up the telephone and dialled. "A university and law school chum who has chambers at Lincoln's Inn Field," he said. "Ah, Miriam! It's Henry Honey is Sir Norman free? Thank you."

There was a short pause before he went on. "Good morning, Plasters. Are you well? Good. Look, one of our juniors, Isobel Harris, has a client with a particularly difficult former wife and wants to give her the works as she puts it. Have you got a fire-eater who could do it?"

He listened attentively and jotted down a name and telephone number.

"Many thanks, Plasters. If Isobel's client gives the go ahead I'll get her to give your Mr du Puys a call. Incidentally, while I'm on, it's about time you came to see us. I'll ask Penelope to give Anthea a ring. 'Bye."

"There you are, my dear," he said handing her the piece of paper.

"Thank you, Henry. Any idea of the cost?"

"I doubt you'll see much change out of two thousand quid for one court appearance."

"Ouch!"

Henry shrugged. "You wanted a good one which is what this chap will be and they don't come cheap."

Isobel wrote to Arthur Corsellis explaining her proposal adding that she suspected that the rapid turnover of his former wife's solicitors was an indication that they had tried to persuade her to be less difficult and scheming. She warned that one court appearance by a barrister would cost something in the order of two thousand pounds and that the choice was entirely his. If he chose not to follow that route she would continue to do her best for him. She asked him to send her a copy of his records of the times that Miss Shepherd had been deliberately obstructive. She sent the letter by special delivery to ensure that he received it the next day.

Mr Corsellis rang her the next morning. "Thank you for your letter, Miss Harris. I think this huge amount of money will be worth spending although I imagine that if your barrister reckons he won't win he'll tell us."

"I'll make it a condition, Mr Corsellis."

"Thank you. Now, if you'd give me your fax number I'll send my notes to you now."

Isobel gave it to him. "I shall be contacting Mr du Puys today," she said, "and will let you know his reactions and how he wants to play it."

"Thank you. I'm off abroad again tomorrow and back again on Friday week so don't rush."

"Thanks. I hope that this will do the trick for you."

"So do I. Fingers crossed. Good-bye, Miss Harris."

Isobel rubbed her hands in glee. She genuinely liked Mr Corsellis and hoped that her scheme would work but either way it ought to be quite fun.

She rang the number that Henry Honey had given her.

"Mr du Puys' office."

"Good morning. My name's Isobel Harris from Barnes and Honey at Pitsbury. I suspect Mr du Puys is expecting a call from me."

"One moment, Ms Harris, while I put you through."

"Good morning, Miss Harris. Gerry du Puys here. What can I do for you? I got a rather terse note from Sir Norman saying 'expect a call from Barnes and Honey'."

Isobel gave a slight chuckle. "Mr Honey was pretty short. 'One of my juniors' was what he called me."

She gave him an outline of the case, her thoughts and feelings on it and Arthur Corsellis's reaction to her suggestion.

"Poor devil. She sounds like a manipulative minx."

"A malevolent, manipulative minx, I'd have said."

There was a bark of laughter. "The lady has a way with words. Right, Miss Harris, we need to get our heads together. I live about ten miles from Pitsbury so what if I come down next Friday morning and come and see you at eleven? That way I can wangle a longish weekend. I'll need to talk to your client at some stage but that can come later."

"That sounds fine. Do you know where we are?"

"Yup. Next door to the library."

"I look forward to meeting you. Good-bye, Mr du Puys."

"Good-bye, Miss Harris."

"Yippee!" Isobel hugged herself gleefully. Gerry du Puys sounded quite pleasant too.

Isobel had plenty of other casework to keep her busy for the next two days but she went through the Corsellis file and flagged up anything she thought would be of interest to Mr du Puys. She asked her secretary to copy them and make up a file for him.

He had an odd name she thought and wondered whether he was French or Belgian not that he sounded as though he was. He had what she termed a public school accent: no trace of a regional accent but a bit drawly.

Merle, Isobel's secretary, showed him in on the dot of eleven on Friday. Isobel came from behind her desk and they shook hands smilingly. Isobel offered him coffee which he accepted and Merle nodded and disappeared.

"Decent journey down?" Isobel asked politely.

Gerry grinned. "I came down last night," he said. "Never look a gift horse in the mouth so breakfast at a civilised time and here I am just in time for elevenses."

Isobel smiled back. "I must make sure that all future meetings are on a Monday or a Friday," she said.

"Monday afternoon preferably."

"Of course."

Merle returned with coffee and biscuits.

"Wow!" exclaimed Isobel. "Chocolate biscuits! Are you two old friends?"

Merle went pink and fled. Gerry laughed.

"Unfortunately not. I only met her just now. It looks as though it might be quite a promising friendship all the same."