Page 17 of The Do-Over

We’re interrupted by the arrival of our food, and the conversation pauses while Alasdair sets about his breakfast with the kind of enthusiasm you’d expect from someone who hasn’t had a square meal in ages.

‘Why did you go into law?’ I ask him as I cut a small piece of sourdough and spear it with my fork.

‘You know why. I come from a family of lawyers,’ he replies between mouthfuls. ‘My father is a lawyer, as was his father. My mother was a solicitor but gave it up when she had children. Mybrother is a barrister. It’s what we do. And you went in because it was hard and you’re some sort of weird masochist.’

‘Did I tell you I wanted to become a criminal barrister originally? Fighting for justice, pleading my client’s case in court, all of that.’

‘Why didn’t you?’

‘Because I quickly realised that I’d either spend a lot of my time defending people who were undoubtedly guilty, or prosecuting people who were probably innocent. Justice might be blind, but there was no way I’d be able to sleep well at night if, for example, I managed to get a rapist acquitted on a technicality. How would I face the victims? And yet, that’s exactly what I would have been expected to do.’

‘I get that.’

‘If I wasn’t going to fight for justice then I wanted to be the best of the best, nothing to do with masochism. Everyone kept saying how tough corporate law was, how fiercely competitive, how difficult it was to break into. So, naturally, I set my sights not only on corporate law, but the most competitive of the corporate law firms. And, once I was in, I was 100 per cent focused on getting an associateship, then a senior associateship, and then becoming the youngest ever female partner.’

‘And you’ve achieved all of that.’

I sigh, remembering my dream. ‘Yes, but at whatcost? I’ve spent my whole life chasing success to prove I’m not like my dad, but what if I’ve used the wrong yardstick? According to Darwin’s quote, I’m an abject failure. Don’t get me wrong, you are my friend and I love you to bits, but would we be friends in the outside world if we weren’t joined by our profession? What other friends do I have? I’ve been so totally focused on material success and financial security that I’m scared I’ve lost sight of everything else that matters. If I died tomorrow, nobody would miss me.’

‘Nonsense. I’d miss you, and it sounds like Alice and Rebecca could become friends too,’ he offers.

‘I wouldn’t be so sure. Do you know what they said? “The fewer lawyers you have in your life, the happier it is.” Pretty damning, don’t you think?’

‘Yeah, but that’s based on their experiences with one particular lawyer, who was a nasty piece of work. It doesn’t extrapolate to all of us.’

‘Doesn’t it? Name me a happy occasion that has lawyers attached to it.’

He thinks for a moment. ‘Buying a home.’

‘Uh-uh. If you did a survey of a hundred home buyers and asked them to rate whether the impact of the solicitor on the process was positive or negative, I don’t think you’d get a ringing endorsement. Try again.’

‘OK, us then.’

‘What’s so great about us?’

‘We oil the wheels of commerce. We make sure that, whatever companies do, it’s fair and legal in the jurisdiction where they do it. We hold them accountable.’

I laugh. ‘And they show their appreciation by shouting at us, continually complaining about how fucking expensive we are, and generally treating us like slaves.’

‘Where are you going with this?’

‘Oh, I don’t know. Nowhere, probably. I’m just having a wobble. I’ve been so focused on career progression and being the best I can be that I’ve never stopped to think whether this is what I actually want. I think, if I’m going to get all psychoanalytical about it, which I certainly was at half past four this morning, it’s never been about me.’

‘What is it about, then? Your father?’

‘Partly, yes.’

‘But you’re nothing like him, Thea. He was, to be blunt, a waster. Nobody could ever call you that. You’re young, idiotically bright and deservedly successful. You’ve made your point where he’s concerned, surely. What else is it about?’

‘I don’t know if I’ll ever completely feel that I’ve made my point where he’s concerned, but thank you. I also wonder whether I’ve subconsciously been competing with my sister. No, bear with me,’ I urge as I can see he’s about to snort in disbelief. ‘Mum has tried to treat us equally, but Saffy has always been the favourite really. Even when we were small, she got extra privileges because she was older, and she used that to lord it over me. It felt unjust; she may be older, but that doesn’t make her a better person. So how do I reverse that?’

‘By being the best.’

‘Exactly, but it’s all meaningless, because I may be more successful than her on paper, be the youngest female partner and all that stuff, but it doesn’t matter because it hasn’t changed anything. Mum still prefers her because she understands her.’

‘You think she doesn’t understand you?’

‘Oh, she tries to make the right noises, but when I was made partner, it was clear Mum didn’t have a clue what that meant, so she just retreated into her comfort zone, which was to talk about Saffy.’

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