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Authors: Tim Kevan

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BOOK: Law and Peace
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My Dear TopFirst,

Could you please confirm whether one of our clients is or is not the mother of your fiancée? As I'm sure you can imagine, I would not like you to fall foul of our professional rules. Therefore, if it is indeed the case then perhaps you might explain how you have avoided a conflict of interest?

With best wishes as always,

BabyB

 

Now of course this is hardly a killer blow, since I can only imagine that he's been acting against TopFlirt's mother in complete innocence, and in any event there will probably be a way for him to get around it if he simply talks it through with his own clients. But this should at least serve to give him a scare and it may also start him wondering how I know so much about his fiancée.

Meanwhile, UpTights had her annual wig-fitting today. Given that she's now spent many thousands of pounds on the little horse hair numbers, she even gets a personal visit to chambers and as usual she was talking about it at chambers tea afterwards. ‘It's so good to throw out the old,' she said.

‘What do you do with it?' asked BusyBody.

‘I cut it up and then feed it through the shredder,' she replied nonchalantly before adding, ‘and then I burn it in my back garden.'

‘You what? The shredder? Burning? As if somehow it might hold the secrets of your sordid little life within its tightknit curls?' said OldSmoothie.

‘Well, I never even clean my wig,' said TheBusker. ‘In fact, I'm afraid to admit that I don't even know where I'd go to get it done.'

People looked around the room as if to find out whether it was OK to admit that they too failed such basic standards of personal hygiene. ‘I think most people take great pride in the fact that their wigs get a little dirty. It's a mark of experience,' said HeadofChambers.

‘I believe they even sell distressed wigs these days,' said TheVamp.

‘Distressed wigs makes me think of pupils on their first day in court,' smiled TheBusker.

‘A little dirt's one thing,' said UpTights. ‘But if you wear that wig five hours a day, two or three days a week for most of the year it's going to get pretty sweaty to say the least. Particularly given the lack of air-conditioning in the Summer.'

‘It is perhaps a little ironic that wigs were supposedly introduced for cleanliness reasons,' said TheCreep. ‘You know, to keep away the nits and their like.'

‘Well I still wear the wig that belonged both to my father and to his father before him,' said OldRuin, ‘and I have to admit that I've never cleaned it once. As to whether it received any particular treatment back in the day, I'll never know although I doubt it very much.'

‘Perhaps that's why barristers never shake hands,' said BusyBody. ‘I mean, once they've spent time adjusting their wigs, well, you can understand.'

 

 

Friday 15 August 2008

Year 2 (week 46): Slap versus tickle

 

Smutton has moved into action and she summoned me to her office today. Rather to my surprise, when I arrived I found that TopFlirt had also been invited. After we entered her office we both stood in front of her desk like two naughty schoolchildren. Smutton was looking her usual self again today and even in the company of the beautiful and really quite glamorous TopFlirt there was still very clearly a certain something about her.

‘Well, BabyB,' she purred. ‘I hope you've been enjoying the hot weather. Stripping down to the bare necessities I expect?'

‘Er, actually, well . . .'

Before I could answer she pouted and said, ‘Because
I
certainly have. But anyway, back to the grindstone,' she said, predictably emphasising the ‘grind' and looking at TopFlirt as she did so. ‘Ready to finish off this Moldy litigation?' she asked me.

‘Certainly am,' I replied.

‘Now,' she said looking at us both, ‘I presume you both know why I've asked to see you?'

We glanced at each other before answering, ‘No,' in tandem.

‘Oh, come on,' said Smutton, ‘let's not play games. I know about the little tryst between the two of you and I imagine you,' she nodded at TopFlirt, ‘wouldn't want your loving fiancé to find out.'

She let that hang in the air before apparently softening her approach. ‘But please, how rude of me. Take a seat and let me get you both a drink.'

She smiled, which made TopFlirt look even more nervous. Once her glass was in her hand, TopFlirt cut to the chase. ‘So what do you want from me, exactly?'

‘I want information, of course. Not enough to damage your beau, but certainly enough to damage his case.'

‘Don't you think there's a risk that I might tell him?'

‘Of course. But I've always enjoyed risk. That's why I'm a litigator. My guess is you won't. But even if you did, you'd have no proof. Remember, our security man checked you for recording equipment as you entered the building.'

‘Information about what exactly?'

‘You're a bright girl, TopFlirt. I'm sure you'll work it out.'

The subject was then dropped as Smutton attempted a little banter over the relative merits of a bit of slap versus tickle.

‘By the way,' she said to TopFlirt as she was leaving, ‘as for your two young men, having watched them both in court for weeks on end, my guess is that BabyB prefers you in Myla and TopFirst in Agent Provocateur.'

Not to be completely outdone, TopFlirt replied over her shoulder, ‘And my guess is that you would prefer either of them to even your finest pair of Louboutin heels.'

As we left, TopFlirt glared at me and said sarcastically, ‘By the way, thanks a lot for mentioning my mum's case. TopFirst is furious.'

Shame.

 

 

Monday 18 August 2008

Year 2 (week 47): Paying for experience

 

OldSmoothie was telling us all in tea today that the solicitor who'd brought someone along to time his every move and force costs down had emailed him, questioning how he could possibly justify charging £5,000 for a conference that in fact had lasted half an hour. Furthermore, he'd asked for a breakdown of said costs. OldSmoothie's reply, or rather riposte, echoed an apocryphal bill once sent by a doctor and said:

1. Conducting the conference: £250

2. Knowing the answer to your problem owing to over thirty years of legal experience: £4,750

 

 

Tuesday 19 August 2008

Year 2 (week 47): FILF or FILTH?

 

‘I heard one of the mini-pupils describing me as a MILF today,' said BusyBody. ‘Not sure if I should be flattered or offended.'

‘What is a MILF?' asked OldRuin.

BusyBody looked embarrassed and TheVamp stepped in. ‘It stands for “Mother I'd like to . . .” er, “do something rude to”.'

She, too, looked a little sheepish although when OldRuin didn't flinch she brightened up again and said, ‘I guess it could make barristers and solicitors BILFs and SILFs.'

‘So as a father, would that make me a FILF?' asked OldSmoothie.

‘More like just plain filth,' answered BusyBody, matter-of-factly.

 

 

Wednesday 20 August 2008

Year 2 (week 47): Expert-tampering

 

Had another meeting with Smutton today after she summoned me with a message that TopFlirt had come through with some results.

‘Well, I now have something for you to go on. Your little belle came to see me last night and pretty much begged me not to tell TopFirst about her little thing with you.'

I blushed and was unable to object before she continued. ‘Anyway, she finally spilled the beans. Seemed to suggest that your mate TopFirst is not as clean-cut as he likes to make out. She thinks he's been expert-tampering in some way. The problem is she isn't sure which expert.'

Now, expert-tampering is something I have already been looking into after my earlier case against TopFirst, but up until now I haven't discovered any link between the corrupt expert organisation and the experts TopFirst has been using. I said as much. As I did so, both Smutton and I looked at each other and saw the point at once.

‘I think you might want to start examining our own experts, BabyB.'

With which I was dismissed from her presence.

 

 

Thursday 21 August 2008

Year 2 (week 47): BundleCard

 

With his midlife crisis blossoming into full bloom, OldSmoothie was trying to show off at chambers tea this afternoon.

‘Yes, I've taken up jujitsu,' he told the whole room.

‘What's that?' said BusyBody, unable to resist.

‘Martial art, my dear. Physical exertion mixed with grace and skill.'

‘Are you sure it's not origami?' she asked. ‘Making paper aeroplanes sounds about as much exercise as you'd manage.'

UpTights, who continues to take her cue from BusyBody, moved in on the act. ‘Or maybe they just sit around practising Chinese burns. That's about as sophisticated as your bullying ever gets.'

I could see TheBusker warming up to the joke at this point.

‘Yes, I can see it now. Arriving at court and giving your opponent a wedgie as an opening gambit.' He smiled. ‘Then you could challenge them to British bulldogs if that failed or maybe a skidding competition on the newly polished courtroom floor. But of course you'd also have the ultimate weapon, the playground nuclear option in your back pocket. I mean, just take along a pupil and a mini-pupil and you've got the potential to put an end to all resistance with a full-on bundle.'

But OldSmoothie was not done. ‘Anyway,' he said, ‘I've also taken up mountain climbing . . .'

‘Oh, here we go,' said UpTights.

‘Yes, last Sunday I rose at the crack of dawn and went up Snowdon.'

‘Lord Snowdon, I presume,' said BusyBody.

‘Who's Dawn?' added TheVamp.

 

 

Friday 22 August 2008

Year 2 (week 47): Getting head at the Bar

 

TheCreep's plan for fame in the kingdom of the mini-pupils isn't going quite as he planned. Unfortunately for him it seems that they have already sussed him out. A quick tour of the walls of the Temple will reveal that his posters have all been subtly defaced so that the first ‘a' in the word ‘ahead' has been deleted. Now, rather than promoting his earnest-sounding lecture – ‘TheCreep's guide to getting ahead at the Bar' – it instead reads more like a kind of sex manual for wiglets. TheCreep has realised his folly but it's too late and for every poster he takes down, ten more appear in its place. Less subtly, people have also taken to sketching a brick wall over the bottom half of the poster and then adding a piece of TheCreep's anatomy, hanging over the wall in the style of an old school chad drawing. They have then added a variety of slogans ranging from the obvious, ‘Wot no head?' to ‘Wot no work?' and ‘Wot no audience?' to perhaps the most cruel of ‘Wot no friends?'

All that was left was for TheVamp to add when she saw TheCreep come into tea this afternoon, ‘I see you're now doing a course on oral abilities, MrCweepyWeepy. Probably the most important skill you need as a barrister, wouldn't you agree?'

 

 

Monday 25 August 2008

Year 2 (week 48): FillyBlustering

 

I went to see TheBoss today to discuss the possibility of the other side having tampered with one of our experts in the Moldy litigation. I figured that if anybody's going to know about getting down and dirty it would be him.

‘Get real, BabyB,' was the first thing he said. ‘Of course they're going to try and get to our witnesses. The case is far too big for them not to. The problem's always been in proving anything like that.'

But the real body blow was yet to come. ‘Though I'd also be careful about what that filly TopFlirt's telling you. If I were them my first tactic would be to try and prolong this case for so long that one by one our old clients die off. Not only might we lose our strongest test cases but remember that any future care or treatment claims also die with them too.'

‘But we're almost ready for judgment from JudgeFetish,' I replied.

‘Not if you start raising the issue of expert-tampering we're not. For the judge to investigate any such allegations could take years.'

Oh.

 

 

Tuesday 26 August 2008

Year 2 (week 48): Better than nothing . . .

 

The dirty old judge OldFilth was at it again tonight. He whose atavistic sex-crazed lizard brain dominates in such a way that it's as if he's evolved on his own little Galapogos Islands, where judges still exercise a form of
droit de seigneur
. There was a Middle Temple student dinner this evening, an affair that as far as OldFilth is concerned implies lambs to the slaughter, and for which he always makes himself available as the esteemed guest of honour. Only it seems he isn't terribly esteemed, even in the student community, and in fact he has become part of a running joke on Facebook with his own ironic fan page to boot.

BOOK: Law and Peace
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