THE SLAVES IN THE DESERT


Prologue

Clarissa Cresswell had just presented her arguments before Mr Justice Forbes-Johnson and won her latest case.  She was feeling pretty pleased with herself today. After a difficult first year at the bar she had become more and more in demand. Her stunning blonde  good looks had been as much a liability as an asset to start with, but a lucky illness had put her leading counsel in hospital and thrown her in the deep end in a very complex commercial case which Clarissa had handled in what all had acknowledged to be a masterly fashion. The demure blonde lawyer had arrived in a spectacular way and since then she had never looked back, with solicitors pushing more work at her than she could handle - and she could handle more work than most, could the industrious Clarissa!

It was lunchtime and she was dashing across the Strand to pay  a lightning visit to her chambers in the Middle Temple before being back in court later in the afternoon.

“Gee! Doesn’t she look cute! I just love that wig, honey! Can I have my picture taken standing next to you?”

Normally Clarissa was far too busy to take note of such idiotic comments from foreign tourists, let alone those from the USA, a part of the world she had visited once and had no wish to see again as long as she lived. But this was no ordinary American! Her normally grave, even cold, features dissolved into a delighted smile whose warmth would have amazed any of her colleagues had they been looking.

“Miranda! Darling Miranda! I thought I’d never see you again!”

“Hi, Clarrie! Got a kiss for your former buddy?”

“Have I ever!”

And the two kissed in the street in full view of the passing world. A gowned and bewigged lady barrister embraced a colourfully and scantily dressed American tourist - it was a hot day in mid May.  Clarissa had not enjoyed a kiss of passion for years. In fact she had not kissed another human being  - even her two boyfriends - with anything other than a sense of duty since she had said farewell to Miranda seven years ago.

“Better not overdo this! I have my professional reputation to think of!” said Clarissa after an all too brief taste of those well remembered lips. “Come to my office. We can talk on the way and then I must get back to work! I’m so busy these days, you’d not believe it!”

“I believe it!” gasped Miranda as she strove to keep up with her. “You always were fond of hard work! Same old Clarissa - even down to the great body! You still get to keep pretty fit!”

“I do indeed! But I really don’t have a second to spare until Saturday, Miranda! You must come and stay with me for the weekend. I have a cottage in Hampshire where we can talk over old times and catch up.”

“How’s Megan these days?”

“Fine. She made it to Sergeant and then left the Force to start a family. Very domesticated these days! One sweet little girl of ten months and another on the way! And she looks great !  Her face still has a faint scar, but her nose is as good as new - just slightly crooked - but you’d never know unless you were looking for it.”

“I told you  they’d put things right, Clarissa! We must meet up again, the three of us. I’m over here for a few years. I got a post in Oncology at Guys and start working  for real next week.“

Miranda looked around the Middle Temple, just before going into Clarissa’s chambers.

“Is this where you work? It’s just so lovely here, Clarissa! You’d never think this was the middle of a big city! Not like where we first met!”

Later that night Clarissa went over the events of the day. She recalled Miranda’s words. “Not like where we first met!”

The Temple certainly wasn’t  a bit like that white hot inferno where  two attractive young  women had first found love in  bleak and pitiless surroundings.