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‘So, you think if he confessed and atoned, or was able to prove his innocence, it would help?’
‘Exactly.’ She grinned. ‘I tell you what I’m going to do. I’ll contact your father on your behalf. Don’t worry, I’m incredibly discreet. I’ll set the ball rolling, and we can arrange a meeting.’ She smiled, leaned forwards and gave my shoulder a patronising rub like I was a child who’d gone to the toilet on my own for the first time.
Clare jumped down from her desk and went back around to her side. She licked her lips and rubbed her hands like the money-hungry vulture she was. She sat down, picked up her expensive-looking fountain pen and began frantically scribbling notes.
She looked up and stopped as if she’d forgotten I was there. ‘Was there anything else?’
‘Oh. No. I don’t think so.’
‘Leave your contact details with Angelina, and I’ll be in touch.’ She put her head down and continued writing.
I stood up and tentatively walked to the door, guessing the meeting was over. As I left the room and stood in the empty corridor, I couldn’t quite understand what had just happened. All I knew was that I had passed the point of no return.
Chapter Thirteen
‘Anthony, it’s Dawn. Dawn Shepherd. Could I come and see you?’
‘Of course. You don’t need to ask.’
I could have gone to my mother’s shop and poured my heart out, wept on her shoulder and asked for guidance, but that’s not what I wanted. I wanted someone who knew Dominic to help me with my dilemma. I walked out of the solicitor’s as I ended the call and looked back at the imposing building of Ripley, Blumenthal and Partners. I physically shuddered.
I decided not to turn up at my grandad’s house empty-handed so popped into a supermarket on the way and bought a pack of muffins. The subject we’d be chatting about might be heavy and disturbing, but in my opinion, everything is better with cake.
As I pulled up outside his house, the front door opened. He’d been waiting for me. Something about that made me smile, and I felt warm inside.
‘You look smart,’ he said, as I trotted down the path.
‘I’m in my work clothes.’
‘Quite the businesswoman. Come in. I’ve got the kettle on.’
‘Lovely. I’ve brought some muffins.’
‘You certainly know the way to my heart.’ He smiled.
While Anthony set about making tea, I filled him in on my conversation with Clare Delaney.
‘I did tell you she was a formidable woman,’ he said.
‘She oozes confidence. She’s quite scary.’
‘I suppose you have to be if you’re going to be arguing in court.’
‘Did she tell you she could get Dominic a seven-figure settlement?’
‘She did.’
‘What do you think about it?’
‘Blood money,’ he spat. ‘Maybe it was this Fenadine he was taking that altered his mind, but at the end of the day, he killed a little girl, and he shouldn’t be compensated for taking her life and destroying the lives of her family.’ While he spoke, Anthony had both hands pressed firmly on the countertop in the kitchen. He wasn’t old, but what life had thrown at him had taken its toll, and he was fragile. His body was stooped, and his movements were slow. He didn’t look well.
‘Don’t you want your son released?’
‘Not like this. Will you carry the tray through to the living room for me?’
I picked up the tray with ease, and Anthony led the way. I set it down on the coffee table and poured us both a cup from the teapot.
‘You look pensive,’ he said.
