Chapter 3
The rest of their meeting could be described only as comfortable. Despite the years of buried tension and subtext that had yet to be resolved – this was to be a different conversation for a different day – Franky listened as Erica explained the banalities she should come to expect upon interning at the Office of Public Prosecutions.
“I don’t imagine they’ll have you doing much the first week or so,” Erica said. “I honestly don’t really know about the interning process. If it’s anything like what they do with trainees, you’ll shadow a solicitor; a crown if you're lucky.”
“How many interns are there?” Franky asked.
Erica shrugged, looking at her watch: 9:40 AM. She had to leave in the next few minutes if she had any hope of getting to court on time. “I couldn’t tell you. Maybe another one or two.” She stood up rather suddenly, her briefcase slung over one shoulder and the empty cup and saucer in her free hand. “Sorry. I have a hearing in less than an hour.”
Franky nodded, but remained seated. It was funny, she thought, Erica was still able to move through her life and dictate when appearances suited her. Franky realized, of course, that it was a Wednesday morning and it was very reasonable for Erica to have to leave at any time for work. She was, however, frustrated that she still found herself curious about Erica Davidson beyond her position as senior solicitor. What that curiosity amounted to, she wasn’t quite sure but, it made her uneasy. She had thought of her life as rather content and simple post-Wentworth. She was not anticipating Erica Davidson to become a complication.
“Are you going to stay here?” Erica’s voice shook her from her thoughts.
“Yeah, I’ve got some things on,” Franky said absently. She reached into her backpack, pulling out a small laptop. “Paper to finish.”
Erica smiled, tentatively placing a hand on Franky’s shoulder. It was meant to be an affable gesture, she told herself. “You’ll do fine. I might even see you next week in the office.”
Franky’s eyes lingered on Erica’s hand, which was promptly pulled away. She chuckled slightly at the reaction. “I’ll hold you to it. Have fun at court.” She offered a cheeky smile. It seemed to be her best and only defense at the moment. She had come into this meeting feeling collected and in control. Erica leaving, even now to a known location, had her feeling more disconcerted than she had expected.
Erica sensed a change in Franky’s demeanor, but had no time to dwell on it. The Office of Public Prosecution’s newest intern had always been moody, after all, she recalled. She nodded and held on tighter to the strap of her briefcase, suddenly feeling awkward. “I’ll see you, Franky.”
Franky watched as Erica left the café, her likely expensive heels clicking on the wood floor. With her tailored pencil skirts and suit jackets, Franky wondered what Erica was like in court. Was she ever flustered and vying for self-control or was that only when they were around each other?
She turned on her laptop and drummed her fingers on the track pad. That paper had been finished days ago. Hopefully this feeling of agitation wouldn’t linger through to the evening. She hadn’t felt like this after the first interview. Although, she remembered, she was the one who was able to leave first that day, thus seemingly dictating their terms of engagement.
---
“I’m so sorry I’m late, she was very on-time, don’t blame her.” Franky followed a frazzled Virginia Beech into a conference room. She laughed quietly as she heard the junior HR manager continue to explain their, mainly her, tardiness. “I should have told her not to wait by my office and come straight here instead.” Virginia huffed, tossing files on the large table.
Jim McCraig, later introduced as Chief Crown Prosecutor, offered a polite chuckle. “It’s fine, but you’re lucky John couldn’t be here. Our dear director is more of a stickler for time than me.” He turned his attention to the young woman standing by the doorway. “You must be Ms. Doyle. Take a seat and get comfortable, I’ll grab the other two.” He smiled warmly at Franky, though not before taking another jibe at Virginia.
Franky smirked as she watched Jim whisper something into her still ruffled recruiter’s ear as they both left the room. She tried to relax, the chairs at the conference table were comfortable enough, but interviews (especially those regarding credentials or lack there of) were bound to leave her feeling a little antsy. At least, despite her unintended tardiness, her day was off to a better start than a certain Mrs. Beech. She even had a nice view of the skyline from where she was seated.
“Nice to see you again Franky.” She craned her neck back towards the door upon hearing her name. Franky’s jaw must have dropped to the floor when she saw former-governor Erica Davidson, looking professional as ever, enter the room on the tails of CCP McCraig and two other colleagues.
Franky quickly tried to stifle her disbelief, hoping not to laugh as she spoke. “Miss Davidson...long time no see.”
Erica, much unlike Franky, had time to mentally prepare herself for this meeting. She offered a curt smile and nod in return, proceeding to take a seat across the table. She was only at this meeting at the request of HR and was intending on speaking and engaging as little as possible.
“Good thing one of your references is our top senior solicitor,” Jim laughed, taking a seat opposite Franky. “She said that you were generally very prompt and up-front.”
Franky grinned, watching Erica from across the table. “Did she?”
“Jim, please.” Erica’s expression remained unreadable as she turned her attention to Franky. “We’ve decided not to blame you for having to push this meeting thirty minutes late.” She had not been pleased to reschedule her entire morning, not once but twice, around this interview. Seeing Franky was its own can of worms – and she prepped herself accordingly. At least their meeting after all this time, in this setting, would act as a safety net for them both. She was rather more annoyed that the propriety of her day had been interrupted.
“You’re never going to live this one down Virginia,” a younger man, perhaps in his late twenties, said as he sat himself on the side of Jim and Erica. He reached out to shake Franky’s hand. “I’m Simon Brunner, one of the solicitors who works with the internship program. Let’s get started then, shall we?”