”“Her bikini was incredible.”“She, without her bikini, was delectable.”“The sun shone.”“It rained sometimes.”“We swam.”“We mad... love on the beach.”“We missed you.”That was the story of their week—their honeymoon. All I heard was how they missed us.I was content to continue in my hectic life, learning a new art form but not creating any art. I hadn’t felt inspired since the night I painted Hope. I could convince myself that I was still working on art because I was learning something. It was a. It wasn't as if Chrissie and I longed to have that full relationship, it was more that she knew that her mother would know, just by looking at her. Within minutes, her father would know and Chrissie would have been distraught to see the hurt on her father's face. Ergo we remained almost chaste.As months went by, I eased into my profession, learning by hard-earned experience how to do my job. It is unfair but true that the client pays the price of a barrister's inexperience and mistakes. The. More

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