Law and Disorder (16 page)

‘She might be, you know.’

‘Couldn’t be.’

‘Would explain the sickness. And I did see her looking pretty stressed today.’

‘No . . . doesn’t bear thinking about.’

‘It could be really bad for her. Maybe she doesn’t even know whether it belongs to FanciesHimself or TheBoss.’

‘Wouldn’t be good.’

‘I’ll say.’

And then . . . I’m afraid I couldn’t resist, ‘Old Smoothie was the one who mentioned TheBoss and BusyBody. He always knows what’s going on.’

Just enough, I hope, to set TopFirst on the path to asking OldSmoothie whether BusyBody is pregnant by a barrister in chambers. Not only might OldSmoothie actually be that barrister, but he’s also on the tenancy committee.

Thursday 15 March 2007

Day 116 (week 24): FoodFights

Poor Worrier. Like me she’s more than a little strapped for cash this year and she was round my room today complaining. ‘It’s just getting too much, BabyB, even with the devilling. I tried eBay using chambers’ free postage, but I ran out of things to sell within a couple of weeks. So I had to come up with something else and I heard one of my friends mentioning that they’d got food vouchers from one of the supermarkets when they’d complained about one of the products.’

‘I’ve heard that.’

‘So I tried it out myself. Drafted a letter mentioning the Supply of Goods Act just to get a little bit legal and I got a £20 voucher back by return of post. Since then I’ve got my letter into a standard form and I’m doing two of them each evening when I get back from chambers. First I went through the big shops and now I’m on to the manufacturers. On my calculations I’ve already almost got enough to feed me through the second six.’

Friday 16 March 2007

Day 117 (week 24): HoneyTrap

Having sent over the first little bomb to TopFirst earlier in the week, I decided this evening that it was perhaps the right time to throw over a second. Let me put this in as nice a way as I can. TopFirst is a very clever and sometimes even witty individual (in a catty kind of way). But his academic abilities are not reflected in his dealings with the fairer sex. First, despite the fact he’s engaged, he always seems to be off flirting with someone else, albeit unsuccessfully. Worse, though, are his fisherman-like tales about the ones that got away. The intellectual arrogance passes over into other spheres, it’s just the results don’t follow.

If I’m going to get anywhere with TopFirst I need to draw him out from where he’s on safe ground. So. It was time for me to set up an email account for a new imaginary friend. Miss Virginia Haddocks-Brown, who chooses to go by the address ginnyandtonic@hotmail. co.uk. Of course she does. With this done, I then sent the following email:

From:
[email protected]

To: TopFirst

Date: 16 March 2007, 20.43

Dear TopFirst,

I am the daughter of a close friend of OldRuin, one of your colleagues in chambers. My father, Charles Haddocks-Brown, was at Oxford with him. I thought I would drop you a line after I heard mention of you in conversation the other day when OldRuin came for dinner. Basically, I am just coming to the end of my final year at university and I am trying to decide whether to change to law at the end of my degree. I know it might seem a bit presumptuous of me to write out of the blue, but the way OldRuin described you I felt sure that you wouldn’t mind. I do hope that I am right. Please don’t tell OldRuin, though, as I haven’t yet told my parents that I’m thinking of giving up my dream of being an actress. I know that most parents would heartily approve of a career in law, but not mine.

Anyway, sorry to go on. I was wondering if you might possibly be able to spare me some time in the future to talk to me about your life at the Bar and to give some advice as to where I might go from here? I’m very occasionally down in London as I do a little bit of part-time modelling, just to make ends meet. Extremely boring but better than taking out a student loan, I guess. I can imagine how terribly busy you are with your cases and so forth but it really would be a help.

I look forward to hearing from you.

With best wishes,

Ginny Haddocks-Brown

The bait is in place and the line now fully cast. Let’s see if he bites.

Monday 19 March 2007

Day 118 (week 25): Hooked

First bite on the email arrived today from TopFirst. I don’t think he will have been playing it cool by leaving it a few days. Instead, given how fastidious and generally obsessive he is, I’m sure he must have written innumerable drafts of his reply over the weekend. In the end, he settled for this one:

From: TopFirst

To:
[email protected]

Date: 19 March 2007, 10.41

Dear Ginny,

I would be very happy to give you advice and you can be assured of my utmost discretion. Consider me bound by professional confidentiality! What subject are you currently studying and at what educational establishment?

Yours sincerely,

TopFirst BA (Hons) (Cantab),

Barrister

The pompous little twerp seems to have been hooked. Now I need to reel him in. But first, I’ll let him stew for a couple of days.

Meanwhile,TheBoss was in all sorts of trouble today.Around 9.30

a.m. his wife stormed into his room in chambers. If she were to have a name other than MrsBoss, it would definitely be HighMaintenance. In every way. Financially, I can now see why TheBoss is so money-obsessed as she was dripping designer from head to foot.Emotionally, she looked like someone who would never be happy with her lot. I’d certainly be pretty scared if I found myself married to her. But then again, there’s none much worse than TheBoss so maybe it’s better that they stick together and don’t spoil two houses.

Not that there’s much chance of that. From the moment she arrived today she was almost hysterical with anger. She took one look at me as she came in but rather than asking for a bit of privacy she simply ignored me and started straight on TheBoss.‘I’ve brought Harriet into chambers for you to look after. See how you like it.’

Harriet is their youngest child, just three years old. TheBoss looked shocked.

‘What do you mean? Where is she?’

‘One of the clerks is looking after her in the waiting room at the moment. It’s about time you started taking responsibility.’

‘But I’ve got a conference with a client in half an hour. How on earth do you expect me to look after her in chambers?’

‘Just deal with it, you greedy, fat, philandering, lying scum.’

Well, I have to say that I couldn’t have put it better myself and

with those parting words she was gone. TheBoss was in all sorts of difficulties, eventually being forced to cancel his conference and take Harriet back to his house for the day.

Tuesday 20 March 2007

Day 119 (week 25): StrikeOne

A wonderful spectacle in chambers tea today. TopFirst was gossiping with OldSmoothie (they are as bad as each other) and he finally got around to whispering that BusyBody might be pregnant by a barrister in chambers and wondered if OldSmoothie had heard anything. Needless to say, OldSmoothie took this as a direct insult to himself as he was in fact that barrister,unbeknown to TopFirst.‘I will not put up with such impudence from anyone, TopFirst, never mind from a pupil. Whatever you achieved at Cambridge, never
ever
forget that you are soundly at the bottom of the tree here in chambers. The very bottom as it happens.’

And with that he stormed off and a hush descended on the gathering. TopFirst didn’t just look crestfallen. He looked truly mortified and skulked away after a few more minutes of awkward small talk. I followed him out, for appearance’s sake wanting to offer a sympathetic ear.

‘What was that about?’ I asked.

‘I have absolutely no idea whatsoever,’ he replied.

‘But what did you say to prompt such an outburst?’

‘I simply mentioned BusyBody’s predicament . . . Maybe he already knows and feels protective of TheBoss? Though that would be a turnaround from his recent attitude.’

‘Maybe he’d just had a bad day in court.’

‘Maybe. But he seemed to take it very personally . . . You don’t think he’s been with BusyBody too, do you?’

‘No way! I mean, how could she find the time?’

‘Well it would explain his reaction.’

‘I guess so.’

‘So that’s my tenancy chances finished, anyway.’

‘I hardly think so. It would be almost actionable if he held that against you. How were you possibly to know? And anyway, it’s his fault, not yours.’

‘You may be right, but it doesn’t feel like that at the moment.’

‘Remember our pact. All for one and all that. It’ll turn out OK.’

‘I hope so.’

Not that I meant it. He has just received a blow that will certainly wound him although in itself is unlikely to be fatal. The real significance is that it stops his momentum in chambers.

. . . And undermines his self-confidence, which is where good old Ginny comes in.

Wednesday 21 March 2007

Day 120 (week 25): Hiring a professional

Here is my rather breathless reply to TopFirst’s email on Monday:

From:
[email protected]

To: TopFirst

Date: 19 March 2007, 15.28

Dear TopFirst,

I’m so grateful and pleased that you found the time to reply. You asked me what university I attend. I am at Hatfield College in Durham. Mummy didn’t want me going to Oxford even though I had an offer. You might say my parents are somewhat alternative generally. Hippies who never really grew up, I guess, after Oxford in the sixties. As for my subject, I am studying English literature. I have to admit that I got a third in my first year, due mainly I think to just a teeny-weeny bit too much partying as well as travelling down to see my (now ex-) boyfriend in Cambridge. But to my own surprise I managed to pull it back last year when I got a first.Where did you go to university? What do you think of being a barrister? Sounds very grown up. Do you have to go off to court and represent murderers?

Best wishes,

Ginny

Should press a few of TopFirst’s buttons . . . which is a little weird to say the least. But hey, it doesn’t count if it’s anonymous . . . right? Now I need to start thinking about how I’m going to get someone to play Ginny on her visit. It strikes me that it might be worth every penny to hire a professional. There could be so much scope for trouble if he falls for someone who turns out to be a prostitute, particularly if this became public knowledge. The real difficulty will be affording it. I will have to approach my bank for an extension to my professional studies loan. I’m sure they’ll understand if I explain that it will help me in getting a tenancy.

Thursday 22 March 2007

Day 121 (week 25): Nobody’s perfect

Today TheBoss was ‘off’ once again and I was left under the gentle supervision of OldRuin.

‘You must be starting out on your feet next month,’ he observed with an understanding smile.

‘Yes, that’s right.’ I answered a little sheepishly, despite myself.

‘Bound to be nervous, but remember that whatever happens, you’ll get through. Life at the Bar is a very long journey and your first teetering steps will have very little influence on your ultimate destination. Easy to get it out of perspective.’

With that he left me to mull over his words as he returned to his papers and dictated an advice into his ancient tape recorder. It’s true that it’s a pretty scary prospect, particularly given that I’ve had less than a dozen outings at speaking in public and that includes the speech I was forced to make at my eighth birthday party. I just hope the clients don’t realise that for the first few months we’ll all be playing target practice with their lives and sometimes even their liberty. All the baby barristers let out into the big playground which is the court system. Running around, fighting, falling over, grazing their legs and generally misbehaving.

Later in the day, OldRuin turned to me again and mused, ‘I remember my own first day in court. Vividly. Bright sunshine outside. Cherry blossom just showing. I had been married a year and Valerie desperately wanted to come and see my big day. Cheer me on, as it were. A magical time. No money, of course, but we had a glorious flat in Hammersmith which had been lent to us by my uncle whilst I got myself established. All back in the early fifties. Long time now.’

He disappeared into a world of his own before continuing. ‘Yes. Bow Street Magistrates. Pickpocket, you know. Full trial. Made a hash of it really but Valerie was kind. She always was. Chap went down for two years. Guilty as sin but I should have got him off. The identification evidence was inadmissible and I let it in. Anyway, all worked out in the end. My Head of Chambers appealed the verdict and got him released. I was very ashamed that I had missed such an important point. I think my Head of Chambers must have realised that.“We’re none of us perfect,OldRuin.Not even barristers.”Not even barristers indeed. Not that you would believe it the way some members of this profession go on. He’s long dead now, BabyB. Great man.’