The Pupil by Caro Fraser Read Free Book Online Page A

week, as he clattered cheerfully down the chambers’ stairs, Anthony bumped into the stocky, suntanned figure of Edward Choke. They had been friendly at Bar School, and Anthony greeted him with some surprise.
    ‘Hello! What are you up to these days?’
    ‘Just got back from Greece. Brilliant holiday. Have youbeen there? No? Really excellent – got to watch out for the ouzo, though. I’m starting my pupillage today.’
    ‘I’ve been at it for a week now,’ replied Anthony. ‘We’ll have to have a drink one evening. Where are you doing your pupillage?’
    ‘Here, of course. Sir Basil Bunting’s my uncle, which is a bit useful.’ Edward had a cheerful awareness of his own probable merits, and was quick to acknowledge the fortuitous connection which had brought him to 5 Caper Court.
    Anthony was momentarily taken aback. He had already formed some idea in the past of Edward’s intellectual capabilities, and was frankly surprised to find him as his fellow-pupil. He managed to prevent himself from betraying his surprise, reflecting that anyone with such a useful connection would naturally put it to good use. The chances were that Edward didn’t seriously aspire to a permanent place at 5 Caper Court. They chatted for a few moments, arranged to meet for a drink, and then Anthony hurried off. A small seed of doubt had been planted in his mind, and the imagined brilliance of his future career had lost a little of its lustre.
    That afternoon did little to dispel his doubts. It was the custom of chambers to convene in the common room at Inner Temple for tea in the afternoon. Anthony, still somewhat reticent, rarely made any contribution to the conversation, except in response to a question or remark from Michael or David Liphook who, as the youngest member of chambers, enjoyed exercising his benevolence to those his junior. Edward, however, seemed quite at hisease. Sir Basil was, after all, his dear and familiar uncle, and he already knew Roderick Hayter, the senior tenant, and a couple of others socially. Darkly, Anthony watched Edward making easy, amiable conversation, wondering what his real ambitions in chambers were.
    Edward understood dimly that it was felt that at some time in the far future he should become the brilliant successor in chambers to his uncle. On this he had no real views. He was perfectly happy to be disposed of as others saw fit, provided life was tolerably comfortable and money and good times plentiful, and provided that no undue exertions were required of him. So far, his experience that day as Jeremy Vane’s pupil had not been particularly taxing. He had been given a desk to sit at and some stuff to read. He didn’t understand much of it, but then, that was Jeremy’s business, not his.
    To Anthony, however, Edward had suddenly appeared as a rival, someone capable of blighting his precious hopes. How could he possibly hope to compete with the favoured nephew of Sir Basil Bunting? Nursing these fears, he went unhappily that evening from chambers to his meeting with Bridget at a wine bar in the City.

    His gathering gloom deepened when he caught sight of Bridget sitting on her own in a corner of the wine bar. It was never a light, social event, having a drink with Bridget; it always had the air of a serious assignation.
    ‘Hullo,’ he said, sitting down opposite her. She was wearing her invariable blue two-piece suit, with a high-necked Laura Ashley blouse, pearl earrings, and thesmall string of pearls that her father had given her for her eighteenth birthday. This, plus a pair of low-heeled Bally shoes, seemed to Anthony to be the uniform of every female articled clerk in London. She had an earnest expression on her face, and a glass of Perrier in front of her. Anthony wished that, just sometimes, since she was actually earning something, she would buy him a drink. She never did. She thought it was one of those things that men did for girls, never the other way round. He grubbed around in his