Page 9 of By His Side

The week had been a busy one, with little time to contemplate the intricacies of my recently inherited client, or to do the intended research about the case I’d wanted to. Tuesday had rolled around before I knew it, and now here I was, sitting outside The Scrubs and waiting for the man himself to appear, more nervous than before my date with Emily. Which was ridiculous. But then I didn’t know which Felix I’d get. The angry one who glared daggers at me? Or the flirtatious one who made me feel things I shouldn’t feel?

Needing to stretch my legs, I climbed out of the Toyota and leaned against the side of it, tipping my face up to the sun and enjoying the warmth of it. I got roughly ten seconds of all being right with the world before the sun disappeared behind a cloud and my phone started ringing.

“Oliver’s asleep,” Katherine whispered as I answered.

“And you figured that was big enough news that you had to call and tell me.”

She laughed. “No, of course not. I wanted to see how things were going with Felix?”

“He liked you,” I said truthfully. “He was disappointed you’d no longer be his PO.”

“He said that?”

“Of course not. You’ve met him. Half of what he says is about getting a rise out of you and nothing else.”

“Half? More like three-quarters.”

“True.”

“And what about you? Did he get under your skin?”

“Of course not,” I lied. “I’ve dealt with far trickier people than Felix Church.”

“Who?”

In a moment of perfect timing, the side gate opened, the man himself ushered out by a prison guard. There was no touching moment of farewell, the guard withdrawing immediately to leave Felix looking… Well, somewhat lost and alone, if I was honest. “I’ve got to go. They’ve just released him.”

I didn’t wait for Katherine to say anything before hanging up. No doubt she’d have had something to say about me being a glorified taxi service, but we all had our preferences for how we dealt with clients, and this was one of mine. And changing my usual procedure for Felix would have been an admittance of defeat.

The sun chose that moment to come back out from behind a cloud, Felix lifting his hand to shade his eyes as he squinted in my direction. I suddenly felt awkward, like I didn’t know whether to stand taller or slouch down more, neither action seeming the right one.

The space between us gave me a chance to study him as he strode my way. I’d been wrong about him looking good in prison clothes. He looked far better in jeans and a black jacket, the tightness of the jacket across his shoulders reflecting the extra bulk he’d added during his time in prison. I immediately chided myself for noticing. I needed to get it in my head that no matter how flirtatious Felix might be, that he was so far off limits he may as well be in space.

“You came,” he said as he halted in front of me. “I wasn’t sure you would.”

“I came,” I echoed. “I said I would, and I did.” I levered myself away from the Toyota and climbed into the driver’s seat, waiting for Felix to join me in the passenger seat before starting the engine. The car suddenly felt far too small, and Felix too close. I did what I always did when nerves got the better of me: I talked. “I’ve been waiting outside for about twenty minutes. I didn’t want to risk getting caught in traffic and being late. You’d think I’d know by now that they’re never on time with getting the release sorted.”

“And I thought it was just me they left sat in my cell twiddling my thumbs.”

I laughed. “No, not just you. It’s a common occurrence. If I had a pound for every time a client’s released on time, I doubt I’d have enough for a coffee.”

Felix turned his head to stare out of the window as we drove down the busy high street and I left him to it. It was the same for every client who’d been inside for any length of time, that culture shock of seeing everything they’d missed out on for the first time. And I could only imagine how much more intense that would be after seven years, rather than just a couple. Felix had a lot of things to get used to, my usual empathy kicking in.

“So many people,” he said.

“Well, it is London. You want fewer people, you need to live in the Outer Hebrides or something. But not while you’re on parole. I’m not driving to Scotland for meetings.”

We lapsed back into silence, Felix’s study of everything outside the window so fastidious that if there was a test on it later, he’d probably ace it. “How far to Benedict House?” he finally asked, without turning my way.

I frowned. “I’m not taking you there. Your mum finally got in touch and okayed you staying with her.”

Felix’s head whipped round so quickly it was a wonder he didn’t give himself whiplash. “She did?”

“You didn’t know?” He shook his head, something about his expression making me think there was more emotion beneath the surface than he was letting on, and that his insistence in our first meeting of her coming through for him had been mostly bluster. “She called the office a couple of days ago. She apologized for not getting in touch sooner, but said she’d been busy.”

“You spoke to her?”

There was no missing the edge in Felix’s voice, something about the idea not sitting comfortably with him. “Not personally, no. Someone else spoke to her and passed a message on. You don’t think that was the reason?”

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