by Henry Cecil
Roger looked out of the window again and then blood suddenly rushed to his head. He had had the experience before and he had it again several times later in his career. When blood rushes like that to a man’s head he may win a VC, commit suicide, marry the girl or say something he will regret or be proud of for the rest of his life. Roger did not know whether he would be proud or sorry, but he knew he must say it. When blood rushes like that to the head there is indeed no option. The thing has to be done or said. There is one course and one course only which has to be taken, whatever the cost. Through the window Roger could see a prostitute leaning against some railings.
‘Yes, Mr Merivale,’ he said. ‘Undignified. That’s the word.’
Chapter Twenty-Three
Henry’s Case
Three months later Henry was dining with Sally.
‘You’re the nicest man I know,’ she said.
‘You know what I think of you,’ he said, ‘and that by itself shows I’m not. I knew what would happen if I took you out to dinner. When you first briefed me in order to be near Roger I knew that, unless I took a very firm hold of myself, I should fall in love with you. So far from taking hold of myself I asked Roger if he’d mind. And here we are.’
‘Yes,’ said Sally, ‘here we are. And there’s nothing to be done about it.’
‘P’raps it’s as well,’ said Henry. ‘I shouldn’t think very much of myself if you cared for me. As it is, it’s all right. The only person who’s in trouble is me. I must admit I rather like it.’
‘I’m in trouble too,’ said Sally.
‘Ah, but you were before I met you. So I’ve no responsibility for that.’
‘How is he doing? You think he’ll get on, don’t you?’
‘I’m quite sure he will. He works like a black and he never believes anything anyone says to him until he’s seen it’s right. He’s a certainty. How long it’ll take before he really gets going, I don’t know. But once it starts it’ll come with a rush. And you’ll see he’ll develop. He’s got all the right instincts. A certain degree of priggishness may be an advantage to begin with at the Bar.’
‘Tell me another thing – you needn’t if you don’t want to. Have I a chance?’
‘You tell me and I’ll tell you,’ said Henry.
‘Don’t be flippant, please.’
‘I was not being flippant, I assure you. It’s much worse at thirty-three than it is at twenty-one. I know. I’ve had both. You only know what it’s like at twenty-one.’
‘It’s terrible, Henry. Do please tell me. I’d believe almost anything you tell me. But I shan’t believe you if you say “no.” Since he gave up Joy I thought something might have happened. But it hasn’t.’
‘Poor Joy,’ said Henry. ‘She overdid it.’
‘That isn’t an answer, Henry. Or is it intended to be the kindest way? You are kind, Henry. I’d trust you anywhere. Who’d think of asking an interested party like you?’
‘It is a compliment, I agree. No, I’ve often tried to think what’s the answer to your question. And the only one I can give is “yes”.’
‘D’you mean it, Henry?’
‘Of course I do. But you mustn’t be too optimistic; he’s much too wrapped up in his work. He thinks of very little else. He hasn’t had a brief since he broke with Joy, but he might have a large practice if one judged from the amount of work he does. He’s still terribly young, but he’s developing. And, of course, he’ll fall in love. And it could be with you. He’ll be a blithering idiot, if he doesn’t.’
‘Dear Henry – how lovely to be with you. You’re the nicest man I know.’
‘No chance of promotion?’ said Henry.
Sally shook her head. ‘I doubt it,’ she said.
‘Oh, well,’ said Henry. ‘No case is ever lost till judgment is given, and even then there can be an appeal.’
Chapter Twenty-Four
The Stigma
Roger’s year was nearly at an end when one day Alec came into the pupils’ room. Peter had left by this time and there were two new pupils. Roger was now the senior.
‘I’ve got you a brief, sir,’ said Alec.
‘Oh, Alec, how splendid,’ said Roger. ‘What is it?’
‘It’s only a judgment summons,’ said Alec, ‘but you never know what it may lead to.’
‘Thank you very much,’ said Roger and seized the papers eagerly. He found that he was in the comparatively unusual position of being briefed for the judgment debtor. Usually it is only the judgment creditor who is represented. For fairly obvious reasons. The debtor has no money to spare on engaging solicitors, let alone counsel. As always, Roger had a chat with Henry about it and in consequence he took Henry’s advice and went to the County Court where the case was to be heard in order to see how the judge there, Judge Perkins, treated judgment summonses.
‘They vary so tremendously,’ Henry had said. ‘Some judges don’t seem to require any evidence of means worth speaking of and make committal orders right and left. Others hardly ever make them. I must say I think the whole thing’s a bit out of date.’
At one County Court which Roger had visited the dialogue during the hearing of judgment summonses had usually been like this:
CLERK: ‘British Loan Company against Brown.’
SOLICITOR: ‘I appear for the judgment creditor, your Honour.’
JUDGE: ‘Well, Mr Brown, have you any offer to make?’
BROWN: ‘I’m very sorry I’ve got into arrears, your Honour, but–’
JUDGE: ‘Never mind about that for the moment. Have you any offer to make?’
BROWN: ‘Well, it’s so difficult, your Honour, with the wife ill and being out of work myself–’
JUDGE: ‘I’ll go into all of that if necessary, but tell me first if you have any offer of any kind to make. This debt has got to be paid, you know.’
BROWN: ‘I might manage ten shillings a week, your Honour.’
JUDGE: ‘What do you say, Mr Worcester?’
SOLICITOR: ‘I’ll take that with a committal order, your Honour.’
JUDGE: ‘Very well, then. Committal order for fourteen days, suspended so long as two pounds a month is paid. Now, do you know what that means, Mr Brown?’
BROWN: ‘I have to pay two pounds a month.’
JUDGE: ‘It means rather more than that, Mr Brown. It means that as long as you do pay two pounds a month all will be well – but, if you don’t, then the bailiff will come and arrest you and take you to prison for fourteen days.’
BROWN: ‘But suppose I can’t pay, your Honour?’
JUDGE: ‘I’ve told you what will happen if you don’t pay. You should have thought of that before you borrowed the money. Call the next case, please.’
But Judge Perkins dealt with them differently. The first which Roger heard him dispose of was:
CLERK: ‘James Brothers against Smith.’
SOLICITOR: ‘I appear for the judgment creditor, your Honour.’
JUDGE: ‘Any offer to make, Mr Smith?’
SMITH: ‘A pound a month, your Honour.’
JUDGE: ‘What do you say, Mr Bray?’
SOLICITOR: ‘If your Honour will reinforce it with a committal order–’
JUDGE: ‘You know perfectly well, Mr Bray, that I can’t do that without evidence of means.’
SOLICITOR: ‘But he’s offered a pound a month, your Honour.’
JUDGE: ‘That is simply a promise for the future. To my mind it is no evidence whatever that he has the money now or has had it in the past. Question him about his means if you wish.’
The solicitor questioned Mr Smith about his means but without much effect, and eventually the judge simply made an order for him to pay one pound per month, with no penalty attached for non-payment.
The dialogue in the next one was as follows:
SOLICITOR: ‘Now Mr Davies, what do you earn?’
DAVIES: ‘It varies.’
SOLICITOR: ‘What does it average?’
DAVIES: ‘Oh –
seven to eight pounds.’
SOLICITOR: ‘What about overtime?’
DAVIES: ‘I don’t do a lot.’
SOLICITOR: ‘How much on an average?’
DAVIES: ‘I don’t know.’
SOLICITOR: ‘You must have some idea. If necessary, you know, your firm can be brought here to prove what you do earn.’
DAVIES: ‘Last week I didn’t do any overtime at all.’
SOLICITOR: ‘What about the week before?’
DAVIES: ‘I forget.’
JUDGE: ‘Mr Davies, you must try to remember. You must know roughly what you average for overtime each week.’
DAVIES: ‘Some weeks I don’t do any.’
JUDGE: ‘Mr Davies, if you persist in avoiding an answer to the question, I shall assume that you earn seven to eight pounds a week overtime.’
DAVIES: ‘It’s nothing like as much as that.’
JUDGE: ‘How much is it, then?’
DAVIES: ‘Not more than two to three pounds.’
JUDGE: ‘Very well then. Your average earnings are about ten pounds a week.’
SOLICITOR: ‘Possibly more?’
DAVIES: ‘Not more.’
SOLICITOR: ‘Whom d’you have to keep out of your ten pounds?’
DAVIES: ‘My wife.’
SOLICITOR: ‘Does she do any work?’
DAVIES: ‘She does a bit.’
SOLICITOR: ‘How much does she earn?’
DAVIES: ‘I’ve no idea.’
SOLICITOR: ‘You must have some idea.’
DAVIES: ‘We don’t discuss it. It’s her business.’
JUDGE: ‘No doubt it is, but I should have thought you might have taken sufficient interest in her affairs to know about how much she earned.’ (Pause.) ‘Well, don’t you?’
DAVIES: ‘She gets a few pounds, I dare say.’
SOLICITOR: ‘What is your rent?’
DAVIES: ‘Has this anything to do with the case?’
JUDGE: ‘It certainly has.’
DAVIES: ‘I don’t pay rent. I’m buying the house through a building society – at least the wife is. I just guarantee the payments.’
SOLICITOR: ‘How much are they?’
DAVIES: ‘Eight pounds three shillings and four pence a month.’
SOLICITOR: ‘Have you any other debts?’
DAVIES: ‘That’s my affair.’
JUDGE: ‘You will answer the question. Have you any other debts?’
DAVIES: ‘Not that I know of.’
SOLICITOR: ‘Why haven’t you paid anything off this judgment?’
DAVIES: ‘Because it isn’t justice. He hit me first.’
JUDGE: ‘That matter has already been decided. There is a judgment against you. How much a month do you offer?’
DAVIES: ‘Five shillings.’
JUDGE: ‘You’re just trifling with the Court. Is there anything else you want to say before I make an order?’
DAVIES: ‘It doesn’t seem much use.’
JUDGE: ‘Mr Davies, you will be detained until the rising of the Court and I shall then consider whether to fine you or send you to prison for contempt of Court. Meanwhile, I shall deal with this summons. You will be committed to prison for six weeks and the order will be suspended so long as you pay five pounds per month.’
DAVIES: ‘I can’t do it.’
JUDGE: ‘Then you know the alternative. I am quite satisfied that you could have paid off the whole of this debt by now and have deliberately refrained from doing so.’
In the next case, before Judge Perkins the debtor admitted that he went in for football pools in a small way. The judge immediately made a committal order.
‘You can’t gamble with your creditor’s money,’ he said. ‘It’s not my concern whether you bet or not in the ordinary way, but if you could send half a crown a week to the pool promoters you could have sent it to the plaintiff, and you ought to have done so. Committal order for twenty-one days suspended so long as one pound per month is paid.’
The next case was an even worse one. The debt was due to a wine merchant and the debtor admitted that he had been going to greyhound racing regularly ever since.
‘This is quite outrageous,’ said the judge. ‘You will be committed to prison for six weeks and I shall suspend the order for seven days only. If the whole amount is not paid within that time, the order for your imprisonment will be effective.’
‘But I can’t pay twenty-five pounds in seven days,’ said the alarmed debtor.
‘Then you will spend six weeks in prison,’ said the judge. ‘I have no sympathy whatever with you. You buy drink on credit, don’t pay for it and spend the money you could have used to pay for it on going to the races.’
Roger went back to chambers feeling that he knew Judge Perkins’ methods of dealing with judgment summonses fairly well. A day or two later he had a conference with his client, a cheerful gentleman called Starling. He came with his wife, who was also cheerful and was, in addition, an attractive young woman. They were brought by their solicitor, Mr Fergus Trent, who was an old friend of theirs.
‘Well, here we are,’ said Mr Starling. ‘When’s the party?’
‘Next Tuesday.’
‘That’s awkward. ’Fraid we shan’t be able to come. It’s Lingfield that day.’
‘D’you mean the races?’ said Roger, a little alarmed.
‘Don’t be so prim and proper,’ said Mrs Starling. ‘Don’t tell me you’ve never had a little flutter.’
‘Well, just on the Derby, you know. I’ve never been to a race meeting, as a matter of fact, only to point-to-points.’
‘Well, you ought to, old boy,’ said Mr Starling. ‘Do you a power of good. Champagne and brandy to begin with. Take a lovely girl with you. And you’ll be on top of the world. I just take my wife. She’s still pretty high in the handicap.’
‘I say, you know,’ said Roger, ‘this is rather serious. I don’t know if you realize it.’
‘Serious, old boy? I’ll say it is.’
‘I’m glad you appreciate that,’ said Roger.
‘I meant if we couldn’t go to Lingfield,’ said Mr Starling. ‘We always do well there.’
‘Look,’ said Roger, ‘this judge sends people to prison.’
Mrs Starling laughed.
‘Don’t try and frighten us,’ she said, ‘that stopped a long time ago.’
‘But he does really. What was this debt for?’
‘Repairs to a car, old boy. Had a nasty smash in the Watford by-pass. Between you and me I was a bit pickled. But I got through the tests all right. And Sheila was a brick. Said she’d been with me all the evening – when she knew in fact that I’d been out with some of the boys. I told you she was class, didn’t I? Real thoroughbred. Never have to ride her in blinkers.’
‘The other way round sometimes, darling,’ said his wife.
‘I’m afraid I don’t follow all this,’ said Roger, ‘but you’re going to be in great difficulty before this particular judge. Let me see. The debt’s forty pounds. Judgment was obtained three months ago. Now can you honestly swear you’ve lost nothing on horses since then?’
‘Come again,’ said Mr Starling.
Roger repeated the question.
‘Old boy,’ said Mr Starling, ‘I can honestly swear, cross my heart and all that – I can honestly swear that we haven’t won a penny. Otherwise, we’d have paid.’
‘How much have you lost?’
‘Is that fair, old boy? Don’t rub it in. Why, Sheila actually sold a couple of dresses. Talk of taking the clothes off your back.’
‘Mr Starling,’ said Roger, ‘I’m afraid this is going to be rather a shock for you. I know this judge, Judge Perkins, and unless you can pay the whole of that forty pounds within a week from Tuesday next, he’ll send you to prison for six weeks.’
‘You’re not serious, old boy?’
‘I am, absolutely.’
‘But that’s terrible. I couldn’t possibly go to jail. It’s Sheila’s birthday in a fortnig
ht, and we’re having a party to celebrate.’
‘What with?’ asked Roger.
‘Oh, we can always raise a fiver or so.’
‘Well, you’d better raise eight fivers,’ said Roger.
‘That’s a different thing altogether, old boy. Just can’t be done.’
‘Then you’ll go to prison.’
‘But I’ll lose my job.’
‘Haven’t you any furniture you can sell?’
‘All on hp, old boy. Only just started to pay for it.’
‘Car?’
‘Still in the Watford by-pass, I should think.’
‘I thought you had it repaired?’
‘That was the other fellow’s.’
‘Mr Thursby,’ intervened Mr Trent, ‘please don’t think me impertinent, but are you quite sure about this particular judge?’
‘Absolutely,’ said Roger. ‘I was down there last Thursday and he sent a chap to jail for six weeks because he’d been gambling. Only gave him seven days to pay.’
‘Oh, well,’ said Mr Trent, ‘I’m afraid there’s nothing for it.’
‘Come, come,’ said Mrs Starling, ‘you’re not going to let us down, Fergie. Frank just can’t go to jail. I won’t have it, I tell you. I’ll speak to the judge myself and explain.’
‘I’m afraid that wouldn’t do any good, Mrs Starling,’ said Roger.
‘That’s not very complimentary,’ said Mrs Starling. ‘I once got a bookie to give me five to one when he was showing four to one on his board.’
‘I told you she was class,’ put in Mr Starling.
‘I’m afraid judges aren’t like bookies.’
‘Apparently he’ll skin me just the same,’ said Mr Starling.
‘No,’ said the solicitor mournfully. ‘I’m afraid there’s nothing for it.’
‘Well, we can try,’ said Roger.
‘Try what?’ said the solicitor.
‘See if I can persuade the judge to give more time.’
‘D’you think you’ll succeed?’
