Connelly goes to say something but Sebastian raises a hand in protest.

"No. Wait. I understand that it's your job to investigate crime. I don't blame you for doing that. What I do blame you for is stopping the investigation after you'd interviewed Lauren. I'd put money on the fact that if she hadn't have solved this for you, your lot never would have."

"Sebastian, it's fine-" I try, anxious to diffuse the situation.

"No Lauren, it's not."

He's not shouting, but he sounds majorly angry.

"Can you honestly say that the police would have worked this out? I had visions of you being on trial for this as they thought they'd got their criminal."

DC Connelly looks very uncomfortable now. "We were following our lines of enquiry. The evidence pointed to Lauren."

"Yes and your evidence was wrong. I hope that following this disaster you learn not to take things at face value. I should let you know I'm minded to put in an official complaint about this. I'll be guided by what Lauren wants, but please don't think this is the end of this."

DC Connelly shoots me a worried look and I can't help but smile. Odds are I won't pursue any official complaint, but there may be some strongly worded letters winging their way to my local constabulary.

As I let him out, I catch sight of the waiting paparazzi at the end of my drive. I pose, give them a smile and shut the door. All too late, I remember what I look like.

Sebastian has obviously plugged the phone back in as I hear the shrill sound as it rings. He answers it and I can hear him making some noises of assent. I wander through to see who he is talking to. As he sees me he holds the phone out in his hand.

"It's for you," he smiles, "You'll want to take this one."

Chapter Twenty Eight.

Alexander looks exquisite, as usual. He's had his hair cut since I last saw him and the short neat crop really flatters his angular face. To my distaste, he looks delighted to see me and welcomes me into his room like a long lost friend.

It was really, really weird coming back into Chambers this morning. The press are still (For reasons that I can't fathom) desperate to speak to me, but I can't think of many things worse that engaging in a post-drama interview.

I didn't venture into the clerks room but I did receive some welcoming smiles from members of Chambers and admin staff as I went past the glass-fronted room on my way in. As I ascended the punishing stairs, it was almost like nothing had changed.

I'm wearing a familiar black suit, white top and a new pair of divine black Kurt Geiger heels. I had my hair trimmed yesterday and I look pretty much exactly as I did before this whole fiasco.

"Lauren! Great to see you. You're looking well!" exclaims Alexander. To be fair, so is he. His suit is a deep shade of navy blue with a hot pink lining. Unusually, when I came into his domain he was already on his feet, waiting for me.

"Hi Alexander," I reply.

There is what can only be described as an awkward silence. For a terrible minute I have the impression that he is going to give me a hug. I'm either wrong, or he decides against it.

"So, how are things?" he starts. Before I can answer, he continues. "I've been speaking to Roger and he's sorted you out a six-week fraud trial. After that, I'll be leading you on a gang related murder case that'll last at least a couple of months."

He looks at me expectantly. I nod slowly. "That would certainly keep me out of trouble."

His face shows the merest flicker of discomfort. He shakes it and laughs cheerily, "Onwards and upwards Lauren!"

I walk over to the window and take a few deep breaths, my gaze fixed on the pedestrians scuttling down below.

"Just out of curiosity, when the six-week fraud came in to Chambers, which barrister did the solicitors want to do it?"

There's a pause. "Well, I'm not sure," replies Alexander eventually.

"Can you check for me?" I query.

He laughs again. It sounds forced. "Lauren, Lauren, you should just be happy that we have all of this work for you!"

I don't laugh back, but turn to face him. "I'm just curious you see. Has Roger performed a clerking miracle or did the solicitors send the work to me in the first place?"

It's a simple question. Either the work is mine because the solicitors wanted me to do it, or as some massive apology, the work has been taken from someone else to placate me.

"Well, I suppose the brief does have your name on it," he concedes.

I knew it. He's been talking total bullshit. No strings have been pulled, no special treatment has been given to me by way of an apology. Come to think about it, no apologies have been forthcoming whatsoever.

"Good to know," I smile. "It'll be coming with me then."

He falters. "What?"

His cheerful expression is slowly sliding from his face. In contrast, I'm certainly regaining my good mood.

"Sorry, wasn't I clear? I said, I'm taking the brief with me."

He looks at me like I'm trying to explain advanced nuclear physics to him. I decide to put him out of his misery.

"Alexander I'm leaving. You and most of Chambers have treated me like something you'd scrape off your shoe. You all thought I was guilty and not one of you thought to take me aside and discuss it with me." My voice begins to wobble, but I'm damn sure that I'm going to finish what I came here to say. "I always thought that Chambers was a family of sorts, friends that I could count on no matter what happened. I can forgive the police for how they behaved, but I can't forgive you."

Satisfyingly, Alexander looks completely flummoxed.

"You're leaving the Bar?" he exclaims.

I laugh. "No. Far from it. I've joined another set of Chambers and I'm taking my work with me."

"Where?" he enquires.

"I'm joining Corr's set. He has been a tower of strength to me and for that I'll be eternally grateful. He didn't judge me, never questioned my actions or my innocence. You, on the other hand couldn't wait to get rid of me, to 'protect your reputation.' Well, I hope when people hear about this they know exactly why I left."

I turn and walk back towards the door. When Corr called the other night to offer me a place he made it clear that if I joined his Chambers, it'd be on the same terms as everyone else; I wasn't to expect any special treatment or work based on sympathy at my predicament. I literally jumped with joy when he offered me a home. I don't want this nightmare to follow me for the rest of my career, I want to be the barrister I was, fearless, feisty and full of beans. If I stay here then I'll carry the resentment I have for most of them around with me like a weight around my neck.

"Wait!" exclaims my former Head of Chambers. I pause and slowly turn round to face him, my skirt swishing satisfactorily against my legs.

"Yes?" I enquire politely.

"I hope you're not going to speak to the press about this."

He really is unbelievable. Right, that's it.

"Why, are you worried that I'm going to tell them how I was unceremoniously ejected from Chambers? How I was treated like a leper by my colleagues? How you made me feel like a criminal? How a bunch of barristers can't even grasp the concept of 'innocent until proven guilty?' Oh Alexander, I owe you nothing."

As I'm half way out of the door I have another thought.

"Someone will come to collect my things. By the way, I'm taking Cassie with me too."

"What, our pupil?" he exclaims in confusion.

"You didn't give her a tenancy. Corr will. You really need to learn how to treat people. Goodbye Alexander."

Chapter Twenty Nine.

Six months later...

"Court Rise"

As I uncross my ankles, raise myself to my feet and take a low bow, I silently thank God that this Judge's ferocious nicotine habit has kept his summing up mercifully short. I glance over my shoulder to check that Mr. Walsh is still awake in the dock. He is... just. After his last glorious acquittal of stealing knickers, he's back.

This time, he's supposed to have been on a shoplifting spree in Ann Summers. When the list of items they found on him was read out, even the Judge turned an alarming shade of red. I smile as it dawns on me that the descriptions of the various marital-aides were not mentioned in his review of the evidence.

True to form, Mr. Walsh is out of the dock like a greyhound from a trap. I sigh and am about to tail him onto the concourse of Farrington Crown Court when a familiar figure comes into the well of the court. She's fully robed, carrying a pile of papers and is barking orders at a male barrister who is trying to keep up with her.

"If you think I'm agreeing that, then you're wrong. You want it in, you call the evidence."

The expression on her face makes it clear that she's not going to take any nonsense from him. I bite my lip and try not to smile.

"Hi Cassie!" I call.

She spots me and smiles. "Hey Lauren. Have your jury gone out yet? I'm in the next trial."

"Yep, they've literally just retired. I presume you're defending?" I guess, in light of her comments to her opponent.

She nods. "It kills me! He took one look at me and obviously thought 'Oh she's new, I can pull a fast one' Ha! I'll show him."

I laugh. "That's the spirit. I'll be floating around until my jury come back, so if you need me, don't hesitate to ask. Good luck!"

As I walk out, I feel a rush of pride. Cassie has developed into a confident, ballsy barrister and I know she'll go far. Since the move, she's really come out of her shell and has shown herself to be a real asset to Chambers.

I wander onto the landing and half-heartedly scan the waiting masses for Mr. Walsh. To my surprise, he is sat, apparently well behaved on one of the plastic chairs outside of the courtroom. He sees me and nods. I smile and walk towards the cafe; if my jury comes back they'll tannoy me.

I order my usual cappuccino and grab a seat in the barrister's area. As I scan some papers for tomorrow, I'm startled when someone slides into the seat opposite me.

"Hello baby girl!" drawls a familiar voice.

I look up in delight to see the smiling face of Bill Wallsbury. I haven't seen him in absolutely ages. To his credit, he was one of the members of my old Chambers who did leave me supportive messages when to everyone else, I was a pariah.

"Bill!" I exclaim "Great to see you! How's things?"

"Oh same old with me dear, but surely you must be feeling a bit overwhelmed today?"

He's staring at me with an odd look in his usually comical eyes. I have no clue what he's on about. I say as much.

"Dear girl! Surely someone thought to tell you? Well this is serendipitous then!"

"Bill, tell me what?"

He pauses and takes a deep breath. "Well you of course know that our former colleague and her accomplice were both charged by the police? Along with their compliant juror and the depraved footballer?"

"Yes, yes," I persist.

Serena was arrested shortly after the debacle at the altar and the police had more than enough evidence to bring charges against her, River, Hobbs and Stephen Walker. Everyone knows that, it's common knowledge.

"Well they're all in court today. It's their plea hearing."

I'm temporarily rendered speechless. I knew that this day was inevitable, that they would have to tell the world whether they are pleading innocence or guilt, but I presumed the case would have been moved off circuit, far away where no-one knows them.

Bill has obviously read my mind. "Of course, if they deny it and there is to be a trial they're being shipped off to the East Midlands. Today however, they're on home turf."

I get to my feet. "Which court?"

He looks startled. "Surely you're not? It wouldn't be appropriate? You could be a witness?" He stops and gives a small smirk. "Court four, I'll come too!"

By the time we get down to court four, there is a large group of people clustered around the entrance. Ironically I recognise a lot of them as the reporters who were camped outside my home. Before they can spot me, I push my wig as far down my forehead as I can, lower my face and hurry inside.

I grab a seat in the far right hand corner of the court and try to look inconspicuous. This would be somewhat easier if Bill didn't keep calling "Yoo hoo!" at everyone and giving them camp waves. I really shouldn't be here.

I have no idea who is representing Serena or Walker, but I'm not at all surprised to see Quinn strutting around amongst the advocates like he owns the place. He was never publicly implicated in the conspiracy, but I firmly believe he knew exactly what was going on and most likely benefitted from a lot of Hobb's cash.

Irrespective of the new trouble he's found himself in, Hobbs is going to stand trial again for the alleged murder of his wife. It's unprecedented, but these are very extenuating circumstances. I hope he gets exactly what is coming to him.

There's a commotion as the defendants are lead into the dock. Serena looks terrible. Her hair is lank against her face and she appears as though she hasn't slept in months. Good. Despite her predicament she still has her usual look of defiance and has her chin held high as she walks through her former peers.

Just before she steps into the glass-fronted dock she spots me and falters. I can see fear, desperation and anger flick across her normally guarded face and in that instant, despite my resolve not to, I feel a tiny prick of sympathy for her. Luckily it passes as she scowls as me with a look of pure hatred. Bill spots it too and surreptitiously gives her the finger. I try not to laugh.

We sit in silence on our best behaviour and wait for the Judge to be brought in. He's a friendly one, but today he looks particularly sombre which is to be expected given the case he is dealing with.

Rivers looks like crap too. He's lost a lot of weight and hasn't bothered to remove his designer stubble. Hobbs remains his usual arrogant, cocky self, appearing to those who haven't met him like he hasn't got a care in the world, but Walker is visibly wetting himself. Not literally of course, but he's shaking like a leaf and is a curious shade of green.

The court clerk identifies all four and the charges are then put to them each in turn. I grab Bill's hand and squeeze. This is it. Are they going to admit setting me up or are they going to lie?

I nearly black out when I hear Rivers.