Law and Peace

by Tim Kevan

  Which would have been bad in itself on a number of levels. But I realised it was far worse when I received a text back by return saying,

  BabyBarista, I don’t know whether this is some sort of litigation game on your part but I like your style. Where would you like to meet and what would you like me to wear? How about a superhero evening? UpTights

  I went straight to my sent messages and discovered that instead of sending it to TopFlirt I had mistakenly pressed the next name alphabetically in my mobile phone’s address book, and that just happened to belong to the wicked witch.

  Oh.

  But you know what they say? Desperate times call for desperate measures and you never know what information I might be able to gather. So, girding my loins as it were, I replied to UpTights:

  10 p.m. your house. As for the superhero, we could have Cat Woman or Wonder Woman but I’d prefer to see you in a skirt. How about Super Girl? Your call for me.

  To which I received an immediate reply:

  You’ve always been my little caped crusader, BabyB x

  So after re-texting TopFlirt, I now have a meeting with her at 7 p.m. tomorrow evening followed by a very frightening encounter with an ageing superhero at 10 p.m.

  Friday 16 May 2008

  Year 2 (week 33): Service industry

  ‘I hate clients,’ said the junior tenant Teflon as he arrived back in chambers after an obviously hard day in court.

  ‘The world would be so much easier without them,’ smiled TheVamp.

  ‘Quite right,’ said OldSmoothie. ‘No more whining in conference, getting witness statements wrong and then complaining when they have to pay even when they’ve lost.’

  ‘And that’s just the solicitor clients,’ said HeadofChambers with a chuckle.

  ‘At least we don’t have to deal with the lay clients day-to-day. It’d be a complete nightmare,’ said TheVamp.

  There was a lot of nodding and agreement on that one.

  ‘Perish the thought,’ said BusyBody sarcastically. ‘Having to take phone calls and explain how the case is progressing and all. It’d be quite beneath us.’

  ‘BusyBody,’ said OldSmoothie, ‘that’s the most sensible thing you’ve said in all of your time in chambers.’

  Monday 19 May 2008

  Year 2 (week 34): Exposed

  Well, what can I say about Friday evening? It was quite a night and that’s for sure. First there was my rendezvous with TopFlirt. Thankfully she turned up and was very sensible and down to business.

  ‘I’m sorry I just disappeared, BabyB. I suddenly started to panic that I’d got in too deep, what with TopFirst’s involvement, my mother and then this big threatening corporation. I just got so scared and went to stay with a college friend who lives by the sea.’

  ‘Yes, your mother . . .’ I answered, leaving it hanging.

  ‘I’m so sorry that I didn’t tell you, BabyB. I have to admit that it was one of the reasons I originally contacted you. I hated what TopFirst was doing on the case and wanted to see if I could garner any idea from you as to how I could help.’

  ‘But you didn’t exactly hit me with particularly probing questions about the case,’ I replied.

  ‘That’s because I lost my bottle from the first time we met up. I didn’t expect to fancy you.’

  ‘But why didn’t you just tell me about it? I would have kept your secret.’

  ‘I really wanted to but that would have meant you working out why I contacted you in the first place and then not trusting me at all.’

  Despite the tallness of the story and my added reservations due to the fact that she is still, after all, TopFirst’s fiancée, I found myself believing what she was saying.

  ‘So what about WhistleBlower? Was that you?’

  ‘It was. I read through TopFirst’s files and found a report on a lady who they were considering sacking after she’d threatened to blow the whistle internally on the damaging effects of their mobile technology.’

  ‘And you put her in touch with me?’

  ‘Exactly.’

  ‘So you can also put me back in touch with her now?’

  ‘I can.’

  She gave me her name and address, which I hope means that we are back in business trial-wise. Everything remained above board throughout our meeting and we parted with a kiss on the cheek.

  After that it was time for a quick change into my Bat Man outfit in the back of a pub, and then into a cab over to UpTights’s house in Islington. I didn’t quite know what I was letting myself in for and felt just a bit silly as I climbed out of the cab. But silliness was more than overcome by a straightforward fear. Fear of UpTights the sexual predator. My thoughts turned in particular to the black widow spider who devours her mate after sex. Then again, there was always the chance that I would find something out about the case and, as TheBoss used to say, ‘litigation is war’. It’s fair to say that as I made my way to the house I was still undecided as to quite what I was going to do.

  When I arrived there was a note on the door telling me to go straight in and make myself comfortable in the sitting room. Once inside there was another note saying, ‘Hello, my little superhero. Why don’t you slip into these and then get yourself a drink as I perform my own superhero change.’ Below the note was a pair of Bat Man boxer shorts.

  Well, this was already getting weird to say the least but I figured I had come this far already. In for a pound and all that. Except, as I stood there glass in hand in my new boxer shorts, it was not UpTights who came down the stairs but TopFirst. ‘Wave to the camera, BabyB,’ he said, as he fired off a dozen photographs of me standing there looking dumbfounded.

  ‘What? How?’

  ‘We’re in the middle of trial, BabyB. You should have realised that I might actually be looking after UpTights’s mobile whilst she was on her feet.’

  Oh.

  ‘As for this evening, all it took was for me to volunteer to house-sit UpTights’s cats whilst she spends the night at her mother’s in Dulwich.’

  Oh.

  ‘But look on the bright side. You can forget your own little threats against me. Now I’ve got a nice picture of you looking like a trespassing pervert to give to the press once my complaint against you is upheld.’

  With that, he was out of the house, camera in hand, before I could even think of a reply.

  Tuesday 20 May 2008

  Year 2 (week 34): Old joke

  I went to meet OldSmoothie in a bar after work in order to discuss the case, but found him half-cut and chortling away with HeadofChambers, who had spent the day judging and was now in full flow in his description of the lady barrister who had appeared in front of him.

  ‘I told her to dispense with the pleadings and move on swiftly to the oral submissions.’

  ‘Yes,’ said OldSmoothie. ‘Get her to show you her Part 18s and then after a cheeky res ipsa loquitur you could grant her the easement she sought.’

  ‘Well quite, and since she was representing a bank I suppose I could order her to strip her assets and then after a period of inflation I could give her a good triple-A rating’.

  As this went on, a lady legal executive who has been working on the Moldy cases approached OldSmoothie and he couldn’t help slobbering all over her. Understandably, she didn’t linger and as she left HeadofChambers, who by this point was approaching a paralytic state, slurred at OldSmoothie, ‘She seems smart.’

  ‘Well quite,’ replied OldSmoothie.

  ‘Out of ten?’ said HeadofChambers.

  ‘Oh, I’d give her half of two,’ came the reply.

  ‘Exactly. The old ones are always the best,’ chortled HeadofChambers and they raised their glasses.

  At this moment TheVamp came up from behind our table and having clearly overheard the previous comment said, ‘Yes, I hear that’s a philosophy to which BabyB also subscribes. Particularly when it comes to women. Nice photo by the way. Seems to be doing the rounds. Must have received it from at least fifteen different people today.�
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  Oh.

  Wednesday 21 May 2008

  Year 2 (week 34): The worm turns

  Today Ethel was on the witness stand giving evidence about her uncontrollable tendency to chuck buckets of water over groups of young people. OldSmoothie was helping her through her main evidence. He said, ‘So, what is it about young people which brings on this urge?’

  ‘Oh it’s not all young people,’ said Ethel. ‘Only those I consider are up to no good. Ones who make threatening comments as they walk by or who I see spitting or dropping litter. I just can’t help myself I’m afraid.’

  ‘And where do you keep your bucket of water.’

  ‘Oh I’ve got the hosepipe running to the end of my garden and a row of five buckets that I like to keep ready loaded at all times. Just in case.’

  ‘And how do people react to this?’ asked OldSmoothie.

  ‘Well, actually, I’ve found that passers-by tend to give me a round of applause,’ said Ethel. ‘Although obviously the youngsters are not so keen.’ She smiled and then added, ‘I think they’re rather frightened, truth be told.’

  The evidence went on all morning and was expected to continue well into the afternoon. At around midday TopFirst rushed into court and spoke to BusyBody who then whispered to UpTights and the three of them all discreetly sidled out after politely bowing to the judge. Obviously something had arisen about which they needed to confer. Either that or they were just getting so bored that this was their excuse to slip off for an early lunch. Whatever the reason it meant that they left poor FraGiles, the pupil with the delicate disposition, as the barrister covering for their side and making sure a good note was taken. I say ‘poor’ FraGiles only in hindsight, because when OldSmoothie saw what was happening he clearly decided to make mischief and sped a little faster through Ethel’s evidence so that he had unexpectedly finished by quarter to one. This meant that there was still a quarter of an hour left before lunch and it was now time for the other side to start Ethel’s cross-examination.

  The judge had clearly got out of bed the wrong side today and he had been grumpy with OldSmoothie all morning. What is more, he is a notorious bully, particularly when it comes to young counsel and FraGiles was now sitting directly in his firing line.

  ‘So, young man, do you have any questions for this witness?’

  ‘Er, we do, my Lord?’

  Inevitably, the end of his sentence began to rise, accompanied by the judge’s eyes as they rose to the ceiling whilst his tight lips revealed his impatience. He glared at FraGiles and interrupted him with, ‘Are you quite sure about that? It sounds to me like you’re asking me a question.’

  ‘Yes, my Lord?’

  ‘I’m sorry, young man, but could you just give me an answer. Maybe we should start off by you introducing yourself to the court.’

  ‘I am Ms UpTights’s pupil, my Lord, and as you know she represents the defendant in this matter?’

  ‘Are you sure about that? Or anything else for that matter?’

  FraGiles visibly wilted at this hectoring and he replied, ‘Yes, my Lord, I’m very sure that I am Ms UpTights’s pupil and that she represents the defendant?’

  ‘So why are you asking me a question? Don’t they teach you how to speak in Bar School these days?’ said the judge.

  ‘My Lord, I certainly didn’t mean it as a question?’

  ‘Well why are you speaking in that ridiculous namby-pamby little voice of yours then? Stop being such a wet blanket. Go on, let’s see if you can say anything with any degree of confidence at all.’

  Then, astonishingly, FraGiles suddenly cracked. ‘My Lord, I am well aware of the impediment in my speech and have spent many years trying to correct it? Your reputation had already preceded you as a bully but even I hadn’t imagined quite how accurate the caricature really was? So my Lord, let me tell you one thing with absolute confidence? This afternoon I will order a transcript of your unseemly little outburst? You will then receive notice from the Office of Judicial Supervision seeking your answer to a formal complaint, which will have been made against you? This will then give you the opportunity to reflect on what you have just said at your leisure? In the meantime, I would like to see that my clients get the fair hearing to which they are entitled in our great system of justice, and I would therefore respectfully request that the case be adjourned until Ms UpTights’s return after lunch?’

  I looked at FraGiles in awe as the judge was utterly silenced. What is more, now that he had been put on notice that the case would be scrutinised by the powers that be, ‘on reflection and as a matter of fairness’ he agreed to grant the short adjournment and we all went for lunch a little early, with pupil sport well and truly over for the day.

  Perhaps best of all was the fact that even though he was on the other side, TheMoldies’ sense of dignity and fair play had obviously been tweaked and after FraGiles had finished his speech, TheMoldies at the back of the court gave him a cheer and a round of applause.

  Thursday 22 May 2008

  Year 2 (week 34): Old friends

  From the sound of the row I overheard in one of the conference rooms at court this morning, it’s clear that the pressure of the trial is getting to both OldSmoothie and UpTights. From the pompous one I heard, ‘The drip, drip, drip of life’s little disappointments have calcified your heart, UpTights. You think you’re building this great defence against the world whereas all you’re really building is your own solitary prison.’

  To which the stretched one replied, ‘Oh get over yourself, OldSmoothie. You cower behind a wall of committees and smug innuendo as if to avoid the fact you’re a complete failure in every aspect of your sad little life. But hey, we both know what you really can’t handle. The fact that I rejected you all those years ago. Time to move on, old man.’

  Friday 23 May 2008

  Year 2 (week 34): Lemon next to the pie

  As I die of shame, the only bit of good news is that BrainWasher is doing a sterling job on the judge. Apparently he’s got his early morning newspaper seller wearing a T-shirt with the slogan ‘Mobile Madness’ and a picture of an insane-looking cartoon mobile phone character. Then he has somehow arranged for a billboard to go up just outside Temple tube with a picture of a confused-looking elderly person saying, ‘Don’t forget where you came from . . . or where you’re going to . . .’ All this is in addition to the various conversations that are being staged near him whilst he is on the tube itself.

  I think BrainWasher’s rather enjoying the challenge and he described this as merely ‘the lemon next to the pie’. It makes me wonder what’s coming next.

  Monday 26 May 2008

  Year 2 (week 35): Call my bluff

  ‘Word reaches me that you paid me a visit the other day, BabyB.’ It was UpTights and she was not here to discuss the Moldy cases. ‘Dressed as Bat Man, I hear.’

  ‘Er . . . well . . .’

  ‘Very fetching you looked too in your little boxer shorts,’ she added. ‘That was very naughty of TopFirst. Rest assured he’s been in the doghouse since I found out.’ Then she added with a smirk, ‘But I have to admit that it raised a little smile when I received the first of the emails. I hope it didn’t distract you from the case. Couldn’t have that, could we?’

  I still couldn’t think of anything to say that might remotely mitigate my embarrassment, and so UpTights was free to really indulge herself.

  ‘BabyB, if you wanted to see me dressed as Super Girl, you only had to ask. Sounds rather fun. Maybe we should give it a go this weekend?’

  At this I almost choked. But I was beginning to reach the end of my tether and so decided to take the high-risk approach. I rose from my chair, went over to her, leaned in very closely and whispered in her ear, ‘Now there’s a thing, UpTights. Maybe we should. I think perhaps my place this time. Though it’s actually my mother’s as I think you know. What do you say? We could video it this time, as well.’

  Thankfully this did the trick and she reverted back to the UpTights
of old, barking, ‘Do be quiet, BabyB. You always have to take things just that little bit too far, don’t you?’

  With which she scuttled from the room.

  Tuesday 27 May 2008

  Year 2 (week 35): Tontine

  ‘Have you ever heard of a tontine, BabyB?’

  OldRuin and I were sharing an early morning coffee in chambers. I admitted that I hadn’t.

  ‘Quite simple, really. It’s an agreement whereby a group of people hold assets together and as each one dies those left behind get what remains.’

  ‘Oh, I see,’ I replied, not really seeing.

  ‘Well, the reason I ask is that I was party to a tontine with three friends from university. We had no money back then and very rarely thought about the future. But despite that, when it came to our final term we used up all our savings to buy four bottles of Chateau Mouton Rothschild 1945. Said to be possibly the greatest vintage of the last century.’ He paused before continuing, ‘One we drank on graduation and another after the tragically early death of one of our merry band in a skiing accident. The third was opened a couple of years ago after another passed away – a high court judge no less. Today, I have the unenviable task of opening the final bottle.’

  ‘I’m sorry to hear that OldRuin. Very sorry indeed.’

  He looked older than ever, as if he was surveying not just his own life but those of his three companions as well. Their ups and downs, loves and losses. ‘Very kind of you to say, BabyB. Really never thought it would be me. I was never the sporty healthy type you see. But you never can tell. I remember when my father died many years ago that someone said that it was now my generation’s turn to step up and face the artillery of time. I’ve dodged one or two bullets since then.’