‘Well done!’ Branko cried.
‘Go, Noah!’ Ameena said.
I bowed, grinning widely at them all.
Aunt Nirvine continued, ‘When Noah first walked into Saleh & Co Lawyers, he was sour and bitter, considering his six-week sentence – as he constantly reminded me it was – an unbearable punishment.’
‘Well you did bury him in the photocopy room,’ John interrupted.
‘But he proved himself to be a real asset to this firm and we are going to miss him. Noah, go out and knock them dead in your final year. We have no doubt you’ll get the marks to study law. You’re always welcome to come back to work here.’
‘Just as long as I get an office with a view and a photocopying clerk to order around.’
‘Good luck, Noah,’ Aunt Nirvine said, raising her glass.
The others raised their glasses too.
‘Well I couldn’t have exposed Bernie without the help of Jacinta,’ I said. ‘She deserves just as much praise.’
‘I kept him in line,’ Jacinta joked. ‘That was harder than catching Bernie.’
‘And my friend Amit,’ I continued. ‘Not that you know him, but he deserves a toast too.’
‘To the elusive Amit!’ Branko called out. ‘Here in spirit!’
We all laughed. Everybody went back to their huddles. Jacinta walked up to me, a cheeky glint in her eyes.
‘You must feel pretty full of yourself right now?’ she teased.
‘Oh, I reckon I deserve it,’ I said. ‘I single-handedly solved the case.’
She rolled her eyes at me. ‘Oh, very funny.’
I leaned towards her. ‘You were a great sidekick. No, really, don’t give me that look. Every genius needs some help now and then.’
‘Oh, Noah,’ she gushed, pretending to act distraught. ‘What will this place be like without you? Will we all cry ourselves to sleep? Or will we remember the mood swings, the bits of crushed Milo in your teeth, the smart-arse comments every five seconds, the amnesia which had you forgetting you still hadn’t graduated from school, the I’m-on-Law-&-Order delusions . . . and hold a party to celebrate the fact that we’ve got some peace and quiet at last?!’
‘You’ll be sobbing into your pillow,’ I said, and raised my glass to her.
As promised, that evening, 28 January, Dad called the scheduled hearing to decide whether I would be going to Terrigal. He slammed his meat tenderiser on the dining table and began.
‘This court is now in session. I have convened a further hearing to decide if the defendant, Noah Nabulsi, is able to demonstrate that he has become a responsible human being who has changed his attitude. In short, the defendant must satisfy me that he is a changed man. I am exercising my judicial discretion and dispensing with the rules of the court. I will allow the defendant to represent himself given that he and Nadine are not on speaking terms following a particularly ridiculous argument that ensued between them this evening.’
‘He started it,’ Nadine said.
‘I thought you weren’t speaking to me,’ I snapped back.
‘Dad, let the record show I was talking to you, not him.’
‘Let the record show that you will both behave so we can continue this hearing.’
We sat in silence, sullen expressions on our faces. Even Mary wasn’t her usual enthusiastic self as she was missing out on an episode of Desperate Housewives.
Then suddenly, miraculously, Dad grinned, removed his wig and shrugged off his robe.
‘Nirvine spoke to me. She told me everything. I’m proud of you, Noah. You’re not only a changed man – you’re a better man. Enjoy Terrigal. Now let’s go and eat a litre of ice cream straight out of the tub.’
We were fishing off the beach in Terrigal. The sun was setting but it was a typically hot summer night and the beach and esplanade were still packed with people.
Amit and I were impressing Hakim and Luke with the story of all that had happened with Bernie. They thought we were spinning lies at first. They had spent their holidays watching movies, hanging out at the shops and playing on the Xbox. Come to think of it, that was how I had hoped to spend my holidays when Dad first handed down my sentence.
I missed Jacinta. But that wasn’t going to be a topic of conversation with these guys.
I left my reel in the sand and sat on one of the beach chairs we’d brought. I took out that weekend’s edition of the Sydney Morning Herald. There was a short report on the case. I’d read it over and over. Despite a one-hour phone interview with the pushy journalist earlier that week, I rated just a few horrible lines:
Noah Nabulsi, son of Magid Nabulsi QC, is keen to follow in his father’s footsteps and thought doing work experience in a law firm during his school holidays would be the right start. He had been suspicious of Bernie White from the moment their eyes met. ‘I just felt there was something fishy about the case.’
That’s what my efforts over six weeks had come down to. Throw out intellect, cunning and sleuthing, and replace it with a ridiculous and emotional ‘fishy feeling’. I’d never live it down either at school or home. Keen to follow in his father’s footsteps. I groaned. Dad had already called to congratulate me on my first experience of media exposure and to tell me how proud he was that I looked up to him.
Apart from that humiliating paragraph, the rest of the report fairly accurately summed up what had happened. Bernie, Rodney Marks and Webb were in custody waiting for their trial. I’d jokingly suggested to Dad that he use his connections to either get me on the jury or get himself appointed as a judge and have the case assigned to him.
‘The rule of law, son,’ he’d said in a solemn voice. ‘Never allow your pursuit of the greater good to undermine it.’
Obviously, I hadn’t told him, or Aunt Nirvine, or anybody besides Casey, about the finer details of my involvement in the case. That meant Casey had taken most of the credit. It sucked and Amit was so angry that we couldn’t show off about his mobile phone switch that he’d threatened to leak the information to the papers.
‘I think there have been enough anonymous tip-offs for one year,’ I’d warned him.
He only backed down when I shouted him lunch at the yum cha restaurant Dad had taken me to. It cost a couple of days’ wages but it was worth it.
‘Okay, fine,’ he’d finally agreed, then burped loudly. ‘Your secrets are safe with me. But if I ever meet a hot chick, justice demands I have the right to use the case to make me look good.’
I couldn’t argue with that.
‘I’m going to grab a drink,’ I told the guys. Thankfully, they weren’t interested and I walked off alone to the kiosk on the esplanade.
I called Jacinta, my heart pounding, which was so stupid but totally out of my control.
‘Do you miss me already?’ she teased.
‘Actually, I was just calling to tell you to save me a space at law school. I’ll be harassing you next year.’
‘That’s if you get in. No more school pranks. Just hard-core studying.’
‘I can multi-task, remember? Of course, once I get in as dux of my year, I’ll probably ace the first semester and end up being fast-tracked to second year, where you’ll be anxiously waiting for me.’
‘Keep dreaming, Noah. You always did have an overactive imagination.’
‘So what am I thinking about now?’
‘You’re thinking about how much you like me.’
‘Well, future lawyer to future lawyer, you gave me a motive for that.’
She giggled. ‘Oh, very funny. Flirting with a legal play on words. I’m hot for you now.’
I laughed.
‘Okay, Senior Counsel,’ she continued, ‘I gave you a motive for liking me.’
‘That’s right. Now I’m just missing opportunity. Motive and opportunity, Jacinta. It’s corny but we all know they’re the elements of the perfect crime.’
‘So liking me is the perfect crime?’
‘No,’ I said, ‘it’s just perfect.’
 
;
Randa Abdel-Fattah, Noah's Law
Thank you for reading books on BookFrom.Net Share this book with friends