Law and Peace (12 page)

Now she looked really taken aback.

‘I don't know what you're talking about,' she lied.

‘A pretty serious breach of client confidentiality, I'd say,' said OldSmoothie. ‘Just out of interest, what would you do in our shoes?'

‘Oh, do shut up you old fool. You have no idea what you're talking about. BabyB's talking cock and bull and you know it.'

‘Well, we were wondering what your own clients might think about that if we were to write to them personally, advising them that their own barrister was giving away their secrets.'

Then he went in for the kill.

‘Of course, if you were to advise your insurer client to stump up fifty grand per claimant, we might not need to send that letter.'

If it were possible for steam to be coming out of her ears, then it would have happened at that moment. She looked more like a cartoon character than ever before and just when I thought that she might actually stand up and launch herself physically at OldSmoothie like some demented harpy, he left the room adding as he did so, ‘Oh, and given that we're such careful souls, we might also need to check with the Bar Standards Board as to what we have to do in such a situation. I'm sure they'd be fascinated to hear all about it.'

Once out of the room, OldSmoothie whispered to me, ‘Of course, she'll never take the bait and she'll be pretty sure we're just bluffing. But the very fact that I've even presented her with such an option is so offensive to everything that she stands for that it'll eat away at her for the rest of the case. When that happens, BabyB, we're halfway there.'

 

 

Wednesday 16 January 2008

Year 2 (week 16): Solicitors in wigs

 

Now don't get me wrong, I've got nothing against solicitors. Well, not unless you count greed, laziness, incompetence and late paying by a select few. But I certainly don't have any problem with them having an equal right to barristers to appear in court. But today, just when you thought that wigs were finally on their way out, I was against a solicitor who turned up proudly wearing a little horse-hair number.

‘What chambers are you from?' I asked.

‘I'm not from any chambers,' came the reply. He looked at me proudly and then pronounced, ‘I'm a solicitor,' in the same tone that they say ‘I'm a laydeee' on
Little Britain
.

‘Oh.'

I must have looked a little quizzical because he followed up with, ‘If you're wondering why I'm wearing a wig, there's a new Practice Direction says I can.'

He brandished it at me somewhat defensively.

‘Oh.'

Then we were off into court, where the subject was raised again even before the judge had a chance to ask.

‘Your Honour,' he said, wrongly addressing the district judge. ‘I am a solicitor of the Supreme Court of England and Wales and am proud today to be wearing a wig.'

The judge stared down at the solicitor and answered only with ‘Oh'.

‘Yes, Your Honour, and if anyone wants to question my right so to do, I have here a copy of the recent Practice Direction on Court Dress which covers this exact issue.'

Again, ‘Oh.'

The judge shifted awkwardly and looked over to me. I shrugged back, not wanting to be the one to say it. The judge sighed and said, ‘Personally, I don't mind what you wear in your own time. However, haven't you wondered why neither I nor your opponent are wearing wigs today?'

The solicitor glanced around and then looked completely lost. Then the judge said, ‘No one robes in small claims I'm afraid.'

To which the solicitor could only reply with ‘Oh'.

 

 

Thursday 17 January 2008

Year 2 (week 16): Breach of confidence

 

Despite the time that the Moldy litigation has been taking up, I've still been trotting off to court most days and I guess sooner or later it was inevitable that I would end up against TopFirst. Well, I found out today that my case for a week on Wednesday is just that. What's more I have the slight difficulty that our claimant has gone AWOL. Literally skipped the country without explanation. This leaves us in something of a predicament as to whether we alert the other side to our difficulty and apply for an adjournment or simply brave it out. It mostly hinges on whether the other side are going to accept the settlement offer of some twenty thousand pounds that we made a few days ago. If there's a chance they might accept we definitely don't want to alert them to our little weakness. But if they are going to fight then the earlier we ask for an adjournment the better.

With this in mind I thought I'd chat it through with OldSmoothie and so I went over to his office and explained my predicament.

‘Simple, BabyB. Watch this.'

He then looked up the number and with the phone on loud speaker rang TopFirst's chambers and asked to speak to his clerk. OldSmoothie then put on his best estuary drawl, which really didn't wash, and said that he was from a particularly big firm of solicitors who wanted to instruct TopFirst next Wednesday.

‘We've heard he's the hot young thing at the Bar and want to try him out. Big trial. Insurer-backed.'

‘Er, it seems he's already booked on a case at the moment but it's actually marked in the diary as likely to settle. Let me just speak to him and then give you a call back.'

A few minutes later and OldSmoothie had the answer.

‘Yes. He says it's definitely going to settle. No question. He can guarantee to do your case.'

Oh.

When I got back to my room I rang TopFlirt and confirmed our dinner for this coming Saturday. She sounded quite pleased to hear from me and complained almost immediately that TopFirst was still working far too hard. Oh, and yes, she's looking forward to Saturday.

See you there.

 

 

Friday 18 January 2008

Year 2 (week 16): Carry On Cricket

 

OldSmoothie and HeadofChambers were on a post-settlement high at chambers tea this afternoon and they were telling their old stories like two musicians jamming to their favourite tunes. At one point talk turned from cricket to one of the female pupils who thankfully was nowhere to be seen.

‘Well, I'd give her a thick edge,' said OldSmoothie.

‘I'd just settle for a feel of her silly mid-off,' said HeadofChambers.

‘Just pitch it up and watch her tickle it to fine leg,' chortled OldSmoothie.

‘Bowl it into the rough and watch her perform a nifty little reverse sweep.'

‘Around the wicket, of course.'

‘Absolutely. Then all you need is good line and length.'

‘To bowl a maiden over.'

‘Exactly. After that you just get her to stroke it into the covers.'

‘Poke it away to deep point.'

‘Nudge one into the slips.'

‘Slip it into the gully.'

‘Tease her out of the crease.'

‘Give your googlies a fine touch.'

‘Pull it to long on.'

‘Hook it to long leg.'

‘On a full toss.'

By this point these two grown men were starting to giggle uncontrollably, which reminded me of the time when the two cricket commentators Brian Johnston and Jonathan Agnew got the giggles on air.

‘Give her a long hop,' continued OldSmoothie.

‘On a sticky wicket,' said HeadofChambers.

‘Show her my googlies.'

‘Tail-End-her.'

‘York-her.'

‘Straight through the gate.'

Then BusyBody stepped up to the crease and said, ‘Of course, if she had any sense, she'd see your googlies coming a mile off and crack each one of them through midwicket.'

 

 

Monday 21 January 2008

Year 2 (week 17): Trouble

 

Met up with TopFlirt again on Saturday evening.

‘I don't know what you've done to TopFirst, BabyB, but he really doesn't like you, does he?'

‘Not much, I guess,' I replied with the understatement of the year. ‘Maybe it's just jealousy over the whole tenancy thing.'

‘Could be, although it does seem to be something more than just business. Definitely a personal edge to it although he simply won't tell me.'

‘Ah, and you want to know what it is that you think he's hiding from you?'

Now this, by the way, wasn't the start of the evening but was instead after about three bottles of wine and at about twelve-thirty at night. It was also after we'd both opened up our hearts. TopFlirt about how TopFirst is still neglecting her in favour of work and me about my fear that I might have lost Claire for good. There was definite tension as we got up to leave the restaurant since I don't think either of us quite knew what would come next. But I have to admit we were both pretty drunk and when I suggested that she crash on my sofa that seemed like a pretty safe compromise. Well, when I say
my
sofa, what I really mean is my mum's, but thankfully mum was fast asleep when we arrived home.

As we sat on the sofa, TopFlirt was still complaining about her fiancé. ‘I thought I was getting some progress when he started to talk about this case you're both doing about the old people. But the more I heard the more it sounded like these people might be really badly affected and yet all he seems to be interested in is impressing his big new corporate client. That and beating you.'

More chat and more booze later and we were still talking at around 5 a.m. when we both eventually fell asleep where we were. Talking, and well, having a goodnight kiss that despite caution on both our parts, led from one thing to another certainly more by accident than good judgment. So now I'm in all sorts of trouble. I've got TopFirst plotting behind my back and against me in two cases and things really do seem to be getting a little close for comfort with his fiancée.

 

 

Tuesday 22 January 2008

Year 2 (week 17): Touchy feely

 

Two of the pupils were chatting away at chambers tea today about the idea of solicitors wearing wigs. One was young Sharon, who had been pulled up early by OldSmoothie. The other was a tall skinny, more fresh-faced than usual young guy, who looks as if he'd completely topple over if you were even to blow in his direction. He has the sort of face that seems constantly on the verge of tears, or what OldSmoothie has described as ‘an invitation to treat it to a good punching'. Worst of all in regard to his vocation as a barrister, he can't even get to the end of a sentence without raising the tone of his voice a notch so that everything he says sounds like a question. It's as though he's not sure whether what he's saying is correct and so he figures he'll ask for your reassurance each time. Maybe it's the result of too many OldSmoothies having bopped him on the nose but whatever the reason, you just can't help but feel sorry for him. His name's Giles but given his delicate nature he's been given the name FraGiles by everyone else in chambers. Today, FraGiles happened to mention where he stood on the issue of solicitors getting to wear horse hair on their heads in court.

‘I feel it's no bad thing,' he said simply, his voice rising as if seeking reassurance.

‘Young man,' interrupted HeadofChambers, who'd overheard what he said and has never masked his irritation at FraGiles's general demeanour. ‘Psychologists feel, not barristers.'

FraGiles looked flustered and said, ‘Oh, sorry, I believe—'

‘Believe? Believe?' said HeadofChambers, his voice rising. ‘Only priests believe. Barristers are not paid to have either feelings or beliefs. They are instead paid to give their esteemed and learned opinions.'

‘Oh.'

‘So from now on, no feelings, no beliefs. Got it?'

Er, right . . .

 

 

Wednesday 23 January 2008

Year 2 (week 17): Suspicions

 

You don't get much past TheVamp and I wondered how long it would take for her to start asking more questions about TopFlirt since she already somehow knows we went out for lunch. Today she popped into my room.

‘How's it going with TopFlirt, BabyB?'

Despite the fact that she'd already mentioned it before, I still wasn't expecting such a direct approach and she caught me off guard for just a millisecond. But it was a millisecond too long and my hesitation was damning. ‘Ah! I'm right. You have started seeing her.'

I composed myself and answered, ‘That's how it starts, you know. The lie gets halfway around the world before the truth even has a chance to get its pants on.'

‘BabyB, if the truth didn't even have its pants on, maybe it wasn't a lie after all.'