Law and Peace (32 page)

Except that today we weren't in Monaco or Athens, but instead we were in the county court of Barnstaple and it was clear that the deputy district judge had the measure of my opponent from the moment he started addressing the judge as ‘my Lord' rather than ‘Sir'.

‘Well, Mr BigHead, it's very nice of you to visit our humble little court here in North Devon. Must be quite a change from what you are used to.'

Without even realising that the judge was ribbing him, BigHead replied, ‘Indeed, though I have to say that I find it's good for the soul to do a few of these little cases now and again and to remind one what the rest of the profession has to put up with.'

Ouch. But that wasn't the end of it.

‘Well, Mr BigHead,' said the judge, ‘I've read your extremely thorough skeleton argument and as I understand it your main point is that we do not have jurisdiction to hear such a weighty matter as this and that instead it should properly be heard in the Admiralty Court in London?'

‘Precisely, my Lord. I have absolutely no idea why anyone would even have dreamt that such a case could be heard in a county court.'

‘I see. Just for the sake of completeness, do you have any further points to add beyond the skeleton?'

‘No, my Lord, I think it makes the point fully.'

‘Yes, quite.'

The judge then turned to me. Now I have to admit that the question of whether or not the court was even allowed to hear the case had not been something I had even considered before arriving at court, and given that I'd only received the skeleton argument that morning I was, to say the least, a little out of my depth on this point. I waited for the judge to start grilling me.

‘Now, Mr BabyBarista,' he began, ‘I assume you want to rely upon section 27(1) of the County Courts Act 1984, which gives certain courts, including, I might say, this one, admiralty jurisdiction?'

‘Er . . .'

I knew I was looking like a rabbit in the headlights, but as I stared at him I could actually make out that he was nodding at me as if to say that this was exactly what I wanted to be relying upon.

‘Er, yes, of course, Sir. I'm very grateful. My point exactly.'

‘Excellent. Well, Mr BigHead, for a shipping lawyer as important as your skeleton says you are, I'm extremely surprised that you didn't know that a few of us coastal courts can also manage the odd bit of shipping law on the side.'

BigHead was lost for words. Then the judge added, ‘I don't know whether you've heard of the Bideford Bar, Mr BigHead, but it's provided more than a few shipping cases in its time, I can tell you.'

‘Oh,' said BigHead. ‘I'm afraid I hadn't heard of it. Does it have a particular specialisation in shipping?'

‘You might say that,' said the judge with a wry smile, before delivering the killer blow. ‘Though for your information it's a dangerous sand bar at the end of the Taw Torridge Estuary and has nothing to do with your own, er,' he looked directly at BigHead, ‘esteemed profession.'

 

 

Monday 30 June 2008

Year 2 (week 40): TheColonel

 

Well I can't pretend I wasn't intrigued to meet TheColonel after the billing he'd been given by Arthur and Ethel and it wasn't as if I had anything planned for the weekend. I'd tried to see whether Claire was free, but she was apparently also away for the weekend and I hadn't dared to ask whether that was with her boyfriend or not. So with nothing to lose I gave him a call after my case was finished and I'd sent my client on his way.

‘Ah yes,' he boomed down the line, ‘Arthur said you were going to call. Did he tell you we are cousins?'

‘He didn't actually. But there was some mention of surf.'

‘Quite right. Quite right. They told me that work is putting Jack at risk of becoming a dull boy and that a session in the surf might just be the answer.'

‘Er, right. But isn't it difficult?'

‘Not at all, young man. I'll explain it all over dinner this evening.'

And he certainly did, accompanied by several bottles of extremely fine Rioja. He lives in a big house overlooking Saunton Sands in North Devon and it was overrun with Jack Russells, a Springer Spaniel and grandchildren. As I arrived I heard seagulls overhead and took in the incredible view of the sand-dunes of Braunton Burrows. Beyond that the sea stretched to the horizon and the sun looked heavy in the sky as it slowly made its descent.

‘Welcome to the mad house. I'm babysitting the grandchildren this weekend. Though sometimes I wonder who's babysitting whom.'

He reminded me of the character played by Robert Duvall in
Apocalypse Now
, a man
who could stand on the Vietnamese battlefield with his chest out and nose to the wind, utterly unmoved, as bombs fell on either side. A force of nature who looked like he'd spent years barking orders at his soldiers. But when I asked him later why they called him TheColonel, he replied, ‘My father was a Colonel and eleven generations of senior officers before him. But it wasn't for me. Not after I'd ridden my first wave back in the sixties.'

He was great company and full of stories of mischief and mayhem. He also steadfastly refused to see my glass empty, and towards the end of the evening it was filled with port. As I got to hear more about him there was mention of a divorce although I didn't want to pry further. I also hinted that I was having my own troubles at the moment what with one thing and another.

‘I assume it's over a girl,' he said. ‘That tends to be what it boils down to most of the time. So what's the problem?'

I gave him a potted history of the goings-on with Claire and then mentioned the new boyfriend.

‘So what's stopping you, young man? If you want something badly enough you have to fight for it.'

I nodded but was keen to change the subject. ‘Talking of fights, how do you think Arthur and Ethel are holding up with all this litigation going on?' I asked.

‘It cuts both ways, BabyB, truth be told. It's terrible the effect that these mobile things have been having and they're serious about wanting to put a stop to that. On the other hand the two of them seem more full of life than I've seen them in a long time. Kind of like the thrill of the fight is helping them to rediscover their youth.'

‘It must have been difficult for them with Ethel's illness,' I said.

‘Absolutely. But again, sometimes it takes something as extreme as that to remind us what it's all about.' He paused and then continued, ‘You know, just the other day I passed the scene of an accident. Probably something you guys would see as work,' he added mischievously before going on. ‘There was a moped laid flat out in the middle of the road and by its side were the rider's clothes, which had been cut from his body. The same clothes he'd have put on that morning. A life as I later heard that was brought to an end by the simplest of driving mistakes. Kind of reminds you how thin the ice is on which we all wander so blithely every day.' He took another drink before continuing, ‘It's one of the things I like about riding big waves. Brings things into focus. Makes it real.'

After the port there followed sloe gin, before I eventually collapsed into a guest room. It hardly felt like I'd fallen asleep before I was rudely awoken by a shout coming from downstairs.

‘Come on, young BabyBarista! It's five o'clock and time for the dawn patrol. The surf's pumping.'

Well, we all jumped into the van: TheColonel, the dogs, the grandchildren and me. With the surfboards on the roof we were soon at the beach. ‘Take a deep breath, BabyB, and smell the offshore breeze. Nothing better.' He then threw me a spare wetsuit. ‘Try this one for size.'

After much hilarity as I put it on the wrong way around to start with, we were eventually out in the surf. Actually that's something of an exaggeration. Following TheColonel's instructions I had pushed my board out until the water was up to my shoulders and then I'd turned it around and lain flat upon it, waiting for some waves. For the first hour or so I seemed constantly to be wiping seawater from my eyes or getting it in my nose and mouth. This was interspersed by TheColonel pointing out the audience of noisy oystercatchers on the rocks alongside a solitary shag drying its wings. But just as I was starting to flag, TheColonel shouted, ‘Turn around, BabyB! You're perfectly placed.'

Then after I did so, and as the wave approached, he gave my board a little shove. I held on for dear life as the board went down the first part of the wave and then I desperately tried to scramble to my feet. Just as I did so the most incredible thing happened. Rather than toppling me over, the unbroken part of the wave suddenly opened up before me. Everything slowed down and became much more vivid. With the sun rising directly in front of me it was reflecting off the wave, and as it rolled forward the sensation was almost as if I was weightless, floating, and that the wave was peeling onwards forever. Like some sort of optical illusion. Leaving behind every possible care or worry. For a split second that seemed like a lifetime.

I started laughing uncontrollably and ‘whooping' like a small child. Then just as soon as I'd started to settle into the wave it collapsed before me and I fell back into the sea, elated and giddy. I looked up and saw some of the oystercatchers chasing each other in a large circle as if they were mimicking the surfers' carefree games of their own.

TheColonel gave me a knowing smile and said, ‘There's nothing a good surf can't sort out, BabyB. Washes all the worries from the mind.'

That night I dreamt once again of the sandcastles and my parents. Except the tide was receding, having stopped short of the castles we had built. Somehow my mind also seemed to deliver a vivid memory full of smells of seaweed, melting sun cream and salt and vinegar rising off hot fish and chips along with the sound of small waves breaking gently along the shoreline and gulls circling greedily overhead.

My first thought as I woke up and savoured the memory was that Arthur was right. We didn't all have to end up like OldSmoothie.

Chapter 10

 

 

J
uly
: P
olice
R
aid

Tuesday 1 July 2008

Year 2 (week 40): Watch-off

 

Had a chambers meeting today and the funniest thing occurred – there was a watch-off. It was like a kind of Mexican wave that started with TheCreep ostentatiously producing his brand-spanking new Tag Heuer watch and planting it down on the conference table in front of him so that, as he mumbled in self-justification, he could ‘keep an eye on the time'. Unfortunately he was sitting next to OldSmoothie who, not to be outdone, pulled out his iPhone as though it were some kind of mini light sabre and then clicked it into ‘clock' mode and sat it in front of him, on what seemed like a disproportionately large and very clearly specially designed docking station. A kind of turbo-charged phallic object waiting for take-off. This, of course, made TheVamp whisper loudly to TheBusker, ‘You know what they say . . .' without actually needing to say more.

But it wasn't over yet. HeadofChambers's watch-vanity was such that he obviously thought he could bring this little game to an end by producing a big fat Omega, whilst aiming a look that clearly said, ‘That's not a watch,
this
is a watch,' at TheCreep.

This act of arrogance irritated UpTights so much that she clearly felt the need to put HeadofChambers back in his box and she removed her small but extremely sparkly diamond-encrusted Rolex, which she laid out on the table without even a look in his direction.

Unfortunately by this point, silliness was starting to take hold and everyone looked expectantly at TheBusker who was next in line. He didn't disappoint when he produced an old-school Mickey Mouse watch that looked like it had been delivered straight from the 1970s. OldRuin smiled at this and with a self-deprecating look, took off his lovely multi-coloured Swatch that I remember him proudly telling me had been given to him for his birthday by one of his grandchildren. I then followed up with my retro eighties-style black digital watch.

Finally it came to TheVamp who had been busily scribbling on a sheet of paper and who now tore a small line down the middle and then folded it up before exhibiting her brand new origami paper sun dial. She then looked at BusyBody who with perfect timing asked, ‘Er, does anyone have the time?'