Law and Peace (4 page)

‘Let's take this one step at a time. I'm assuming you don't mean that there's a killer mobile phone mast on the loose?'

‘Of course not. But there's one near their houses. It's driving them mad.'

Some form of madness was becoming apparent to us all but no one said as much.

‘Who are “they”?' asked TheVamp with a look a psychiatrist might give a patient.

‘The old people, that's who. Constituents. Keep on clogging up my surgeries.'

‘Er, in what way?' asked OldSmoothie.

‘Brain damage, that's what. It's getting into their heads and killing all the brain cells. What's left of them anyway.'

‘Er, right.' OldSmoothie was beginning to struggle.

Facing a room full of raised eyebrows, BigMouth ploughed on. ‘You don't believe me, do you? Nobody does.'

You don't say.

‘I've got a load of people being pumped full of mobile rays and, well, how can I put it? It's affecting them. Badly. All gone potty.'

I knew that we were all now picturing BigMouth's blue-rinsed constituents. Potty was something we could believe. OldSmoothie clearly thought that his friend had also been exposing himself to too many mobile rays (well it's better than prostitutes, I guess) and wanted to steer away from this particular red herring.

‘I think this is something BabyB can investigate. What do you say?'

He turned to me. What was I to say? ‘You must be joking. Stop wasting my time, you mad, pompous, out of touch old fool.' Well, that would have been one response but instead all I managed was, ‘Er, okay then.'

 

 

Tuesday 23 October 2007

Year 2 (week 4): Just good friends?

 

Got a call from Claire yesterday asking if I was free to meet for a drink this evening. From her voice it sounded a little ominous but I agreed nonetheless. I've missed her these last two weeks and despite my worries about where things might be going with us I still wanted to catch up. Unfortunately, I was so involved in working on background stuff for BigMouth's case that by the time I left the library I realised I was going to be late and called ahead. Thankfully, at least, having just been awarded a tenancy herself, Claire understands the difficulties of juggling work at the Bar with a normal life and she told me not to worry.

When I finally arrived at the restaurant, she rose from her chair, revealing a black figure-hugging, knee-length dress that made her look absolutely stunning. Being used to seeing her in her court clothes, for a moment I just stood there, speechless. She smiled and offered me a glass from the bottle of wine she had already started. Then a little more wine, as we talked about our new tenancies and caught up with each other's news. Then dinner and yet more wine and soon enough we were walking along the Embankment and over Waterloo Bridge with its stunning views of St Paul's and the river. My doubts about whether we should try and change the nature of our relationship had dissolved, and if ever there was a time to make a move this was it. I took her hand and we stopped. There was an awkward pause in which both of us stared down at the river below us, and then Claire said, ‘Look BabyB, I really don't want to risk our friendship.'

My heart sank. I knew where this was going. Then she looked in my eyes and said, ‘I mean, do you?'

In that moment I couldn't tell whether she was saying she just wanted to hear it from me first, or whether she simply wanted affirmation of her own decision not to take things any further. But what I did know was that there were no half measures in this, any more than a jury can ever find someone half guilty. I could either go for it and risk everything, not knowing whether she wanted the same thing, or pull back to the safe haven of our friendship.

‘I guess you're right,' I replied, knowing that I had made the coward's choice. Even in that moment the irony was not lost on me that whilst at work I never hesitated to take risks when it came to Claire it just felt, well, too important to gamble and get it wrong.

She looked at me quizzically and dropped her head a little.

‘I guess so.' Her voice was quiet.

Which just goes to show that even professional communicators singularly fail when it comes to crossing that unbridgeable gap between the sexes.

 

 

Wednesday 24 October 2007

Year 2 (week 4): An apple short

 

Today, still troubled by the outcome of my evening with Claire, I was charged with calling up BigMouth and trying to get a bit more sense out of him than OldSmoothie had managed on Monday. In truth, I think he was just embarrassed for his old friend and he didn't want to explore the whole conspiracy story in too much detail.

‘Please can you elaborate on the conspiracy you suspect?' I asked, trying not to sound circumspect.

‘I know what you think, young man. Old duffer's gone off the deep end. An apple short and what not. But you'd be wrong in this case. There are big commercial interests at stake here. If phone masts do the damage my people suggest then other people stand to lose billions.'

‘And who are those people?' I asked.

‘Well that's what I'm hoping you might be able to find out. Telecom companies, I assume. All I know is that I asked one question about phone masts in parliament and within a week I was being exposed by RedTop.'

‘Maybe that's simply because they had something to expose?' I refrained from asking. Instead I followed up with, ‘Er, yes, I'll see what I can do. In the meantime, what exactly do your constituents say are the effects of this exposure to the, um, rays?'

‘Well, there's a group of old age pensioners all within the same neighbourhood who have suddenly started causing all sorts of trouble. A grey crime wave they're calling it locally. Turned themselves into something of a gang. At least a dozen of them have been served ASBOs already and the figures are rising by the week. It's all very peculiar.'

Well, he's certainly not wrong there. I will await the documentation and maybe I'll even get to meet this unusual bunch of oldies who have suddenly started razzing it up. It would be worth organising a conference with them in chambers just to see the reaction of a few of the more staid of the tenants.

 

 

Thursday 25 October 2007

Year 2 (week 4): Snakes and ladders

 

The new pupils were all standing neatly in a row at chambers tea today. OldSmoothie was the first to comment.

‘Look at you. All unformed. Still finding your place in the world. One minute you'll be buzzing around feeling like a drone and the next you'll be absolutely full of your own cleverness as you get to help on some big case or other.'

‘Oh but don't they look so cute,' whispered TheVamp eyeing up the two male pupils. ‘All fresh-faced, clean-cut and so deliciously corruptible.'

Then, I think without realising, she actually licked her lips.

‘Must be about time for the annual snakes and ladders speech,' said TheBusker, referring to the talk the pupils always get about their status now being at the very bottom of the pile just like that of new judges.

‘That's all it is really, isn't it?' said UpTights, looking a little madder than usual. ‘This whole thing. Life. Just one big cruel game of snakes and ladders.'

‘There's certainly no shortage of snakes,' said BusyBody looking at OldSmoothie.

‘Yes, and the only ladders you've ever got close to are in your tights,' he replied.

‘Well, little pupil boy,' purred TheVamp into the ear of the nearest of the two she'd been admiring. ‘How would you like a game of snakes and ladders?'

With which he blushed, quickly made his excuses and left.

 

 

Friday 26 October 2007

Year 2 (week 4): Humiliation

 

On my arrival this morning all I got from HeadClerk was a very curt nod, which was completely out of character for a person who is usually so positive and upbeat. ‘What's up with HeadClerk?' I asked TheBusker as I passed him in the corridor later.

‘It's not good at all,' he replied. ‘As bad as it gets actually.'

‘What can be that bad?' I asked innocently.

‘One of OldSmoothie's solicitors rang up and demanded that HeadClerk double his fee. Said that at its current level it was making their own fees look embarrassingly high to the client.'

‘That sounds great,' I replied. ‘How can he be annoyed about an increase in our fees?'

‘That's just it. HeadClerk prides himself on billing top dollar for all his barristers. To then have a solicitor ring up and say that what he's billed simply isn't enough . . . well, it hurts . . .'

Oh.

 

 

 

Monday 29 October 2007

Year 2 (week 5): TheMoldies

 

‘They're all as mad as cheese, BabyB.' SlipperySlope had called me to talk about BigMouth's ASBO-attracting blue rinses. ‘They're far more eccentric than your usual Saga louts with their recycling bins stuffed full of bottles of fine Rioja. No, these ones are quite simply mad, mad, mad and very old. But even if there's a small chance that there's something in this, we could be on to a windfall settlement just to keep the whole thing out of the press.'

‘And how do you think I can help?' I asked him, somewhat confused as to what role I might play in all this.

‘You're going to be doing the running, BabyB. All the important work.'

Chief dogsbody more like. But I'm not exactly in a position to argue.

‘I'll provide the back-up and funding. BigMouth has asked for a two-hundred-pound backhander for every case he refers involving a mad oldie or Moldy as I like to call them. My shout on that. All tax deductible through my er, marketing budget although somehow I doubt it'll ever appear in his declaration of members' interests.You, meanwhile, my sharp-witted friend, will get to work growing our little money-making tree.' This was all delivered in a voice that reminded me of Del Boy in
Only Fools and Horses
, putting his arm around his brother's shoulder and assuring him that this time next year they would be millionaires. Oh, except Slippery already is a millionaire, several times over probably.

After that little introduction, he sent over the paperwork, which consisted of long ranting letters from each of TheMoldies but little else. No medical evidence, no real details of the legal case they are trying to make. Which means of course that we need to get them all into chambers for a nice cosy little conference in the next few days. I've deliberately booked it to coincide with chambers tea . . .

 

 

 

 

Wednesday 31 October 2007

Year 2 (week 5): Bombshell

 

I can't pretend that I haven't been worrying about today's meeting with my mother's loan shark. The deal I'd made last year was that they wouldn't call in her debts and leave her homeless and destitute on the condition that I would agree to take over her loan next year. It all seemed so simple at the time and it is only as the months have gone by that I have started to regret not having the agreement in writing. But then, why on earth wouldn't they allow the debt to be passed to her oh-so-solvent barrister son?

Why on earth indeed? And this is the question I am now left asking as my mother and I try and recover from the bombshell that was delivered today in the form of the loan shark's new spiv. He told us that he had it from ‘on high' that the loan could under no circumstances be refinanced on their books.

‘It's the credit crunch I'm afraid. No exceptions. So, Mr BabyBarista, whatever you say was agreed last year, either you pay up the whole amount now or we start enforcement proceedings.'

Now there's no way, even with my new place in chambers, that I can raise anything close to the four hundred grand that is the terrifying total of all my mother's debt.

All of this was bad enough but my worries were then multiplied when I rushed back from the meeting for a drink with Claire. I had had to stop at chambers on the way, to catch up with the BigMouth case and once again I arrived late. After apologising profusely I'd explained about everything that had happened with the loan shark and she listened with an increasingly furrowed brow,

‘I hate to say it, BabyB,' she said, ‘but there may be more to this than just the state of the economy.'

‘What do you mean?' I asked.

‘Look, I'm definitely no conspiracy theorist, but if there is any truth at all in what your MP is saying about the telecom company you're thinking of suing, well they're a pretty powerful enemy to be taking on.'

‘Oh.'

Then she added enigmatically, ‘And I really don't know what went on between you and TopFirst, but it's pretty clear to me that he's trouble and also that he's the sort of person who would have no boundaries when it comes to wanting to hurt someone.'