Law and Disorder (22 page)

‘Good day in court?’ HeadofChambers asked OldSmoothie.

‘Not bad, yes. We were in . . .’

He was interrupted by the phone ringing.

‘Who on earth can that be?’ said HeadofChambers irritably. ‘Must be the clerks.’ He pressed the answer button and the loudspeaker of the phone sprung into action. Everybody turned in surprise as they heard rustling noises and then giggling at full volume.

‘What on earth is that,’ said HeadofChambers.

‘Shh,’ said OldSmoothie.

The whole room craned to hear as best they could as BusyBody’s voice suddenly came through on the little loudspeaker.

‘You’re a very very naughty pupil, ThirdSix. Very naughty indeed.’

‘Yes, My Lady. I apologise unreservedly, My Lady.’ It was ThirdSix providing the answers in this little game.

‘Now I’ve been looking over your application this afternoon and have to admit that I find many of its features to be extremely attractive. But I’m afraid I shall still need a little more convincing before I decide to grant your request for relief.’

‘My Lady I stand here erect before the court of the great storeroom and lay my case out in all its naked glory . . .’

OldSmoothie’s jaw was the first to drop as it dawned on the whole room what was actually going on. ‘The storeroom? Of all the places. The cheek of it.’

BusyBody had obviously shared its charms with him as well as with FanciesHimself. Eventually and almost reluctantly, HeadofChambers interrupted the broadcast and switched it off, saying, ‘I really don’t think we should be listening to this.’

There was a general answer of ‘No’ by which everyone meant, ‘Well actually we’re still being highly amused by it but we wouldn’t want to admit it.’ HeadofChambers then telephoned down to HeadClerk and said, ‘Please could you ask one of the clerks to go and interrupt BusyBody and ThirdSix from their . . . er . . . proceedings, in the top floor storeroom.’

As we left chambers tea, we passed the two of them being led downstairs by FanciesHimself in the direction of HeadofChambers’s room.

Friday 4 May 2007

Day 150 (week 31): Pigs might fly

‘You know, BabyB, it’s never easy doing pupillage and I know that sometimes I can be difficult. That’s why I thought we’d have lunch and get to know each other a little better.’

This was yesterday and UpTights was for once in a good mood, having just settled a case which was due to start on Monday and in the process gained a brief fee of over £30,000 and a week off. She’d spent the previous week getting more and more stressed, and though she’s not usually a settler, the relief was evident yesterday morning as she packed up the twenty lever arch files to send back to her solicitors.

Before we went off for lunch, I bumped into OldSmoothie in the clerks’ room and when I told him what I was up to he responded with, ‘I’d treasure that one, BabyB. Kind gestures from the wicked witch are as rare as rocking horse . . .’ he paused, and then realising he had an audience who might be offended by his swearing, he smiled and added slowly, ‘manure’. Then, just as he’d said this, UpTights herself came around the corner smiling and offering greetings to each of the assembled barristers and clerks.

‘There’s a Gloucester Old Spot at ten thousand feet,’ said OldSmoothie.

‘Life is grand, OldSmoothie, wouldn’t you agree?’ said UpTights, ignoring his dig.

As I left, trailing behind in her wake, I overheard HeadClerk whispering ‘UpTights in a good mood. Pigs have indeed flown, OldSmoothie.’

‘Obviously just upped her dose,’ replied OldSmoothie.

So there we were, eating lunch in a posh restaurant at 12 noon. But more than that. She was ordering a bottle of champagne.

‘Well, BabyB. We all have to let our hair down sometimes.’

Thoroughly confused as I was, I was certainly not averse to being wined and dined on a Friday afternoon . . . and into the early evening. I started off promising myself that I wouldn’t have more than two glasses. But what was I meant to do when UpTights (of all people) was saying, ‘Oh, come on, BabyB. Don’t be such a prude.’ In which case, you betcha. I’ll have another. And another. So long as it’s one fewer than the (usually) teetotal facelift opposite.

All of which meant that I stumbled upon all sorts of chambers gossip, though the problem is that I’m struggling to remember much of what she said. ‘Well, of course, everybody knew about OldSmoothie and TheVamp after they were caught
in flagrante
, so to speak, in the Temple Gardens after some big dinner or other. Can’t have been a pretty sight for the poor porter to stumble upon . . . Don’t believe everything you might hear about HeadofChambers and me. Despite the fact it only lasted about a month during my pupillage, I’ve never heard the end of it since. You can never be too careful, BabyB.’

After she came out with this particular gem I was suddenly concerned that there may even have been a glint in her eye, although I chose to ignore it if there was. I have to say though, that despite her many neuroses and bouts of hysteria, she can at times be extremely charming. The difficulty is trying to predict precisely what person she’s going to be on that particular day. The only thing I’ve managed to work out so far is that the best signs of her madness coming on are an increase in make-up and added bouffant to the hair.

I managed to garner some interesting information about TopFirst, thanks to UpTights’s drunken indiscretion . . . ‘You know, BabyB, that TopFirst’s dad was a founder member of this chambers? We never realised until TopFirst had already arrived, despite the fact they share the same surname. Left in disgrace, you see, after he stole a judge’s wife. Everyone’s having to be terribly careful not to hold all this against him.’

Yeah, and the fact that he’s arrogant and smug and already strolls around chambers as though he owns it. I nodded politely. Not really sure whether this will ultimately count for or against him, or if there is any other way I may use it.

But there’s no doubt that it’s always better to be one step ahead.

Tuesday 8 May 2007

Day 151 (week 32): Get-out-of-jail-free card

Followed UpTights to a client conference today. It all concerned a car accident in which our man drove into an old lady on a zebra crossing. The client’s concerned as he’s being prosecuted for dangerous driving and risks losing his licence. The insurer is even more concerned about the civil claim which might follow. The client’s come up with the ingenious wheeze of getting himself off by saying that he blacked out at the wheel. I don’t think any of us believed him, particularly after he mentioned that ‘a friend of a friend got off in the same way’ and chuckled that he was playing his ‘get-out-of-jail-free card’. Not that this seemed to bother UpTights, who simply said, ‘Well, if that’s what you say happened then we ought to raise the defence of automatism.’

The insurer went further and suggested that we instruct his ‘tame neurologist’ who apparently ‘always backs up an automatism claim’. UpTights turned a blind eye whilst her instructing solicitor nodded his assent, keen to ensure the old lady wouldn’t receive a penny.

After the conference I asked UpTights if she had believed the client.

‘Not for me to say, BabyB. That’s the judge’s job.’

‘But what if it’s completely obvious?’

‘Come on, BabyB. You should know this by now. If we only represented clients we thought were telling the truth we wouldn’t be working.’
‘But aren’t you misleading the court?’ ‘Not unless he actually tells me he’s lying.’ ‘But he’d never do that.’ ‘There you are, BabyB. You’re starting to get it.’ I also had a chat with TheBoss’s old solicitor SlipperySlope today. I’ve been given five cases by him in my first month on my feet and I told him how much I appreciated the work. He replied with, ‘BabyB, it’s my pleasure. Always happy to put bread on the table of the junior Bar.’ Then, without even skipping a beat, he continued, ‘Of course, I’m even happier when I can chat over those cases at Stamford Bridge?’

Well, what can you say? It didn’t even qualify as a hint. More a blatant request for Chelsea tickets in return for regular work. Now, I’ve checked this before with the Bar Standards Board guidance and it seems that the best way of deciding if behaviour is appropriate or not is what they call the ‘blush test’. If it’s something that would make you blush then it’s probably inappropriate. Since I am conveniently blushing at very little these days, I ordered the tickets.
Speaking of blushes, Worrier filled me in on BusyBody’s progress
proceedings for them and it’s apparently given ThirdSix pupillage paranoia. Says they can’t carry on.’ ‘How do you know all this?’

‘BusyBody’s been confiding.’ She looked guilty and continued, ‘I know I shouldn’t even be telling you, but after all we’ve gone through already and, well, I just have to share it with someone.’

‘I understand.’

‘She thinks OldSmoothie set them up with the telephone thing. Apparently HeadofChambers thinks so too and that’s why he’s not holding an investigation as to who might have done it.’

Of course. All makes sense.

Thursday 10 May 2007

Day 153 (week 32): AmbulanceChaserLtd

I’ve been doing some online research into the accident management company which works with FakeClaims&Co. Let’s call them AmbulanceChaserLtd, as I found out that much of their work comes from hanging around accident-and-emergency departments at various London hospitals. I visited one last night with Claire once again playing camerawoman. I went in complaining of a stiff neck from having tripped over a hole in a pavement. After waiting a couple of hours I was finally seen by a doctor who prescribed me some painkillers and gave me a neck collar to wear. Sure enough, as I emerged from A&E I was approached in the car park by a man wearing a suit and tie. His swagger was a confident one, with kind of a cheap-salesman feel to it, but his look was something a little more dodgy, almost seedy. When he opened his mouth he sounded like an estate agent. Respectable patter, clearly scripted. When he asked me if I’d had an accident, I told him about the paving stone and he then made his pitch.

‘You can definitely get compensation for that.’

‘Oh really?’

‘Easy.’

‘And how much would I get?’

‘Probably about £1,500 for your injury and a couple of weeks’ loss of earnings.’

‘But I haven’t lost any earnings.’

‘Don’t worry about that. We do all the documentation.’

‘And how much will it cost me?’

‘Absolutely nothing. Totally guaranteed.’

I gave him my (false) details along with a number for a pay-as­you-go mobile that I bought over the weekend. Today I got a call and booked myself in to go and see them next week.

Monday 14 May 2007

Day 155 (week 33): Attention deficit disorder

‘We’re in front of Bart today?’ It was my opponent. ‘You mean the judge who plays online bridge . . .’

‘. . . during the hearings. The same, and who also, er, what’s the word?’

‘Aromes, perhaps?’ I suggested.

‘Quite.’

We smiled at the reference to the judge’s well-known problem with flatulence. But his nickname isn’t just slang for that, since it also refers directly to Bart Simpson and his infamous attention deficit disorder. For the judge this is manifested in the handling of his cases. My opponent seemed particularly animated about this.

‘Someone in chambers has given me the judge’s online-gaming name and I’m going to take him on during the hearing on my phone.’

‘Without him realising.’

‘Precisely. Except you’ll have to cover me if he gets suspicious.’

When the hearing started the judge was carefully guarding his computer screen so that no one could see it. My opponent had his phone under the desk, and whilst I was cross-examining his client, he passed me a note saying that his online challenge to the judge had been accepted. You’d think that with both judge and opponent otherwise occupied it should have been a shoe-in, but it was quite the opposite as no one was properly listening to anything anyone said. At one point my opponent had to put forward a legal point.

‘That case on causation. Wotsit’s name?’

‘Oh, wotsit called?’ the judge said as he continued to stare at the screen in front of him.

‘Wotsit’s name?’ said my opponent again, scratching his head.

‘Oh. Wotsit . . . wotsit . . . wotsit?’ the judge echoed.

At which point, just because I couldn’t resist, I added a ‘wotsit?’ myself. Just for fun. In the end it seemed the only way for me to bring the judge’s attention back to the case and the points I was making was to add, and particularly emphasise, the word ‘bridge’ (‘building a
bridge
between the two versions of events’, ‘
bridging
the gaps in the evidence’) and other related words (‘the
trick
to understanding the defendant’s evidence’, ‘in his
bid
to win the case’). After it had caused the judge to jump back into judicial action a few times he was eventually forced to resign his game and start paying attention.

Which made my opponent smile on two fronts since he not only won money from the judge online but he was also handed victory in court.