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Authors: Tim Kevan

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Thursday 25 January 2007

Day 81 (week 17): Other pupils

Worrier has perked up in the last few days. Apparently she’s been visiting a life coach who’s set her the challenge of turning it all around. Some challenge.

BusyBody on the other hand has not been busying anybody recently. So much so that I’m concerned. And that’s saying something. Suggested we had lunch today but I was politely but firmly rebuffed. I’ve had no vibes of suspicion. Simply those of abject defeat.

As for TopFirst, whatever he touches continues to turn to gold. It is somewhat perturbing, to say the least. Poisoning remains my last resort. I am joking. Honestly.

Monday 29 January 2007

Day 83 (week 18): Blinking tactics

Today was the extraordinary chambers meeting. Quite a social gathering,to say the least.All I saw were the comings and the goings. No pupils were allowed anywhere near. I’d considered leaving my phone in there to record proceedings but thought better of it given the present circumstances. Instead, I went off to a particular bar which I knew was frequented by at least half a dozen members of chambers and where I was therefore likely to pick up the outcome later on.

Claire had agreed to back me up on this mission to gain valuable information. Whilst we were waiting and after a couple of drinks she said, ‘Hey, I’ve got a new theory for succeeding at the Bar.’

‘Oh, yes, and what might that be, then?’

‘Blinking.’

‘Blinking what?’

‘No. Blinking.’ She scrunched up her eyes theatrically and opened them again.

‘Right,’ I said sceptically. ‘You’ll just blink people to death, will you?’

‘Actually, you’ll not blink them to death. Stare them out. I mean, if you’re going to argue or negotiate well, you just can’t afford to blink after a big bluff. You know, like Kennedy beat Khrushchev in the sixties because he didn’t blink. Just the same at court. It’s all Bay of Pigs.’

So we spent the next hour having blinking competitions, which raised a few odd looks when the various members of chambers finally arrived for a post-match drink or six. They were all very open about the outcome, on the basis that I was bound to find out sooner or later. Seems there were insufficient people in attendance to be able to suspend constitutionally and so they’d gone through the motions of having a debate on the issue (i.e. a good old-fashioned gossip), before concluding that in the circumstances it would be more seemly simply to withdraw the motion. A moral high ground could then be taken of innocence until guilt was proven. TheBoss therefore wasn’t called upon to explain himself and was left outside during the whole meeting. Which is kind of lucky, as I’m not sure what explanation he would have come up with if he had been called.

So, TheBoss can continue earning his top dollar for at least a few more months until the Standards Board hearing. In the meantime, he’d better start working on his defence. So I continue to be shackled to the chambers pariah, though in many ways I am finding this is helpful from the expressions of sympathy it seems to be generating.

Tuesday 30 January 2007

Day 84 (week 18): Losing it

TheBoss was in early today and seemed almost chipper. Not sure if he’s been seeing Worrier’s life coach, but he was peculiarly positive about everything. Even started lecturing me about how pupillage isn’t that bad, really. I think he’s losing the plot on many different levels.

Wednesday 31 January 2007

Day 85 (week 18): An honourable profession

Dear, old-fashioned, well-mannered, loveable OldRuin. Who couldn’t like him? He’s seen scandals come and go but has himself spent most of his life playing by the rules. Rules which are as much a

part of him as the weave of his tweed. Yet he’s not the self-righteous sort and has a genuine sympathy for those who get themselves into difficulty, no matter how stupid they may have been. That is how he feels towards TheBoss. Not quite the prodigal son, but even so, a wayward child in one form or another. This all became clear when he took me out for lunch at Simpson’s on the Strand today. The place very much suited OldRuin himself with its airs of great times gone before and with a very English manner about the whole thing. Today, for some reason, the smell of mothballs had gone from OldRuin and had been replaced by a very faint smell which reminded me of boiled cabbage from childhood.

‘You must not take these difficulties to heart,’ he said. ‘It’s sometimes hard to see the bigger picture when you feel you’re being dragged down by events. It’s a great and honourable profession which you are entering, BabyB. Of course, there’ll always be bad eggs, but in my experience they generally come a cropper of their own making. But don’t forget that they are far outnumbered by the honest, decent chaps (and chapesses may I say) who rarely come to anyone’s attention.’

‘I sometimes wonder which side of the line I actually fall,’ I replied.

‘And that’s what’ll save you, BabyB. Keep hold of that doubt.’ Then he added enigmatically, ‘There’s many of us have suffered crises of conscience at one time or another.’

I didn’t want to pry and replied simply, ‘Thanks, OldRuin. It’s good to take a step back.’

His kindly look shone through as he said, ‘You’ll weather this storm, BabyB.’ He paused before adding, ‘And be the stronger for it.’

CHAPTER 5

February: Upstairs, Downstairs

The difficulty of tactical manoeuvring consists in turning the devious into the direct, and misfortune into gain.

Sun Tzu,
The Art of War

 

Friday 2 February 2007

Day 87 (week 18): Embarrassment

Less than two months to go until I get on my feet in court and I have to admit that I’m starting to feel a little nervous. In order to try and get an edge on the other pupils, and taking a tip out of Busybody’s book, I’ve hired a public-speaking coach who gets me to recite Shakespeare and do breathing exercises.

All very well in itself. But it backfired today when I was caught by the barrister I was following around at court doing one of these exercises. Thought there was no one around in the robing room and so started reciting one of the more soppy of the sonnets interspersed with deep breathing (i.e. moaning) in between each line. You can imagine my horror when the barrister emerged from the loo next door with a smirk which told me he had overheard it all.

Monday 5 February 2007

Day 88 (week 19): Vexatious

Today TheBoss was against a litigant in person who I shall call Vexatious. One of those people who was not represented by a lawyer, not for lack of funds, but because he’d sacked all those who had tried to help. He was a funny-looking man in his mid-fifties who reminded me of Mr Burns from
The Simpsons,
with slightly mad, staring, shifty eyes and a head bald save for wisps of browny-grey hair sprouting out the back. But unlike the devious Mr Burns, Vexatious looked paranoid, worn down and above all sad. Melancholy, tired and probably depressed, which may well have explained the heavy dark patches under his eyes. He also smelt slightly of alcohol, which at eleven in the morning didn’t bode well.

TheBoss had had some experience of such litigants and told me that it was wise to say as little as possible to them beforehand. Otherwise, he said, you risk finding whatever you say being twisted into a professional conduct complaint. He said this with such conviction that it made me wonder whether he was speaking from personal experience. So, after brief unpleasantries between Vexatious and TheBoss, we all marched into court.

Vexatious was suing the council for harassment and although the sad thing was that there may well have been some foundation for complaint at the start, it seems that he’d taken things just a little too far over the years. Reams of handwritten correspondence packed full of underlinings, exclamation marks and capital letters, as if he felt that the world wasn’t listening. The judge had the measure of him from the start and when he started rambling through an introduction to his case, he was cut short with, ‘I’ve read the papers, Mr Vexatious. At some length, if I may say. Do you have any witnesses?’

‘Only myself.’

‘In which case perhaps you would be kind enough as to direct yourself to the witness box.’

‘Yes, My Lord.’

‘Your Honour.’

‘Yes, My Lord, very nice of you to say so.’

‘No, you address me as Your Honour.’

‘Sorry, Your Honour, My Lord.’

‘Would you now like to take the oath?’

‘No.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because I don’t believe in this oppressive system of so-called justice and therefore I will not swear any oath of allegiance to it or anyone associated with it.’

‘It’s just an oath to tell the truth.’

‘Oh.’

‘Repeat the words on the card in front of you.’

So it went on all morning. It was what the Americans might call a ‘slam dunk’ for TheBoss. He just sat tight and didn’t say a word. In fact he actually won the case without uttering a single word. The judge listened carefully to all that Vexatious had to say and when the rant was finished he summarised the case far more articulately and then said, ‘Am I correct that that is your case?’

Somewhat dumbfounded, Vexatious said, ‘Yes, Your Lord.’

The judge then turned to TheBoss and said, ‘I don’t need to hear from you,’ with which he dismissed the claim. Tragically for Vexatious, his problems are now only made worse by the fact that he faces a costs bill of over £25,000.

Tuesday 6 February 2007

Day 89 (week 19): A kick while down

Poor old Boss. I am genuinely feeling sorry for him at this stage of his problems. No sooner has he been granted a reprieve by chambers than he is given a reminder of his difficulties with a double whammy today. One blow was the letter he had been expecting from the Bar Standards Board confirming that a complaint has been made against him. The other was from his professional insurers, the Bar Mutual, asking him to keep them posted about any further developments on the case. All this was then made worse by a phone call from his wife halfway through the afternoon in which it was clear that she was hassling him about the divorce and the financial arrangements which needed to be put in place. For all his lack of spine, the fact he is bearing up at all under all of this is a testament to a hitherto-invisible streak of mettle within.

Thursday 8 February 2007

Day 91 (week 19): Contingency plans

I am starting to wonder what TheBoss is taking. Perhaps I was wrong when I said he was bearing up well. He was hardly what you might call stable even when I started pupillage and he’s certainly been through the mill since then. But in the last couple of days his behaviour has become even more erratic. Today he burst into the room around 11.30 a.m. and started walking around in a circle saying to himself, ‘Who needs it anyway. I’ll go and live on a desert island and become a writer. I’ll motorbike around the world. I’ll . . .’

He hesitated and stared at me during his pause.

‘You know,’ he continued, ‘we start off in this job with so much potential. The world is our oyster and we can do anything we choose. We then spend years taking ourselves further and further away from the mainstream until we are so specialised that if we were to jump ship there would not even be a life-raft nearby. We are good only for being barristers. Otherwise it’s straight back down to the bottom of the pile aged forty-four.’

 

 

Friday 9 February 2007

Day 92 (week 19): Two down . . .

That Friday feeling today. So far, I’m a third of the way through pupillage and I have, to say the least, neutralised two of my three opponents for tenancy. TheBoss and Sun Tzu would be proud of me. TopFirst remains a challenge but today I’m feeling optimistic. The opportunity will present itself, of that I have no doubt. In the meantime, I must prepare the ground. I think his arrogance and smugness could somehow end up helping me.

Tuesday 13 February 2007

Day 94 (week 20): Caught Room

TheBusker was on form today, hitting a con man in cross-examination from all angles. With his gentle style highlighting so many inconsistencies the claimant had no chance and it made me think that perhaps the name of the venue should be the ‘Caught Room’. Which got me thinking about other such names. Maybe the venue for the corporate-type committee meetings might better be described as the ‘Bored Room’. Then, a little more surreally, there’s that great legal highway, Gray’s Inn Road, surrounded by barristers’ chambers and solicitors’ firms. For some reason I always imagine it as ‘Grazing Road’, full of all those rich, fat lawyers grazing away on cold hard cash. Then of course, my thoughts come back to today and the claimant’s own questioning of TheBusker’s witnesses, which was done with such an irritated manner that it might almost have been described as ‘cross’ examination.

On the way back from court TheBusker mentioned in the most roundabout way TheBoss’s reputation for settling his cases and said that I shouldn’t assume that that was normal.

‘We’re paid to fight cases, and never forget that. Yes, sometimes cases may settle but remember, the solicitors will already have given it a pretty good go even before it gets anywhere near court. So, unless something changes, you get yourself right in there and fight.’

BOOK: Law and Disorder
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