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Day 131 (week 27): OldHand

Went off to court with my new pupilmistress UpTights this morning. Unlike TheBoss, she hardly ever settles a case at court on the basis that, “We’re paid to fight, not settle.” However, it’s almost as if she’s unable to undertake a negotiation as her rigid manner is also reflected in the way she treats her opponent’s case. Quite a contrast to TheBoss who would sidle up to opponents and suggest something like, “Don’t suppose we can get rid of this and be back in Chambers for lunch do you?” UpTights on the other hand told her opponent today,
“There’s no point talking if you’re not prepared to look at this case sensibly.”
“Well, quite,” said the other side’s barrister. Let’s call him OldHand. He clearly knew UpTights and had obviously decided that the best strategy was to wind her up. He leaned in a little too close for her liking, given her “personal space” issues and continued,
“Though I’m sure you’ll take your client’s instructions if I do make an offer.”

UpTights moved away from OldHand and replied,
“A little space please…Of course I’d take instructions. However, I really don’t think there’s any point talking further.”

After this, OldHand needled her further by getting his pupil to come over and make an offer to UpTights.
“Can’t he be bothered to come over here and tell me himself?”
“No he can’t.” The pupil answered, obviously having been briefed what to say. The offer itself was ridiculously low one and only served to irritate UpTights further. This was exacerbated when the pupil followed up with,
“[OldHand] says that if you don’t accept by the start of the hearing, it will be withdrawn.”
“Well, you can tell [OldHand]…”
“…and he also said to tell you that he looks forward to hearing what your client has to say about the offer.” After which the pupil turned on his heels.

It only got worse when we went into court. Old Hand started called UpTights “Mrs” rather than “Ms” which though she didn’t correct him clearly grated, particularly when he started mispronouncing her name as well. He also took two extremely weak points at the start of the hearing which left UpTights even more jumpy and impatient than usual. It only took a couple of hours of this before UpTights finally snapped at the judge in response to question he had asked.
“With respect, Your Honour. If you read the witness statement of the Claimant you will see…”
“Are you suggesting that I havn’t read the witness statements?”
“Of course not, Your Honour…”

UpTights by this point couldn’t help herself and during OldHand’s provocative submissions she started shaking her head and muttering,
“No, no, no.”

OldHand stopped mid-flow and said to the judge,
“I’m sorry, your Honour, but it seems my learned friend Mrs [Uptights] wishes to address you early.” At which point he sat down.
“Yes, Ms [UpTights]. Your opponent is right. I too find your constant interrupting and muttering extremely irritating and would be grateful if you would refrain from it in future.”

UpTights was speechless and simply nodded angrily at the judge before OldHand stood up, smiled over at her and continued.

By which point we were done for

Day 130 (week 27): Confusion

Had my first small claims hearing today and surprised myself by pulling a victory out of the hat although I have to admit that it was more by luck than judgment. It was a standard car case and during my cross-examination I became so thoroughly confused with the difference between the nearside and the offside of a car that it rubbed off on the other side’s witness. It was as if he couldn’t get it into his head that the barrister was getting something so simple wrong and so he started to doubt himself. A brilliant tactical manoeuvre for which, despite the fact that it was completely unintended, I was delighted to find that my client gave me full credit. The lesson I take away is that whatever you do in court, and however badly, do it with confidence.

In the meantime, BusyBody has told me that she is definitely pregnant and is deciding what to do over the issue of paternity. Poor Worrier is getting weighed down by her first cases and is not looking at all happy. There are just too many details in Worrier Land and I get the feeling from hearing about her first days in court that these may have been overflowing into her submissions.

No pebble left unturned.

Day 129 (week 27): HoneyTrap

In my search for someone to play the fictional Ginny, TopFirst’s new pen pal, I contacted one of those “Test Your Boyfriend” agencies you see mentioned in the newspapers and went to visit them in my lunch hour. As I embark upon my biggest act of war so far, I have some consolation on the fact that he is supposedly happily engaged and the reality is that my plan will fail if he remains faithful.

I found this agency in a rather seedy office in Covent Garden. I told them that I was the brother of TopFirst’s fiancée and concerned that he would be faithful to her. I explained that he is an intellectual and social snob in that order and furthermore that Ginny has been holding herself out to be a model. They said that they had a couple of star students on their books who only occasionally worked for them to pay off their student debts at the end of each academic year. I looked at their profiles and one in particular stood out due to a particularly haughty look which I think TopFirst might go for. They said they’d get back to me as to availability.

I then returned to Chambers and emailed TopFirst from Ginny’s account with the photo of HoneyTrap, my virtual creation who is suddenly becoming very real.

Day 128 (week 27): BullDog

I seriously considered calling in sick over the weekend after someone whispered that this one way of getting around the Cab Rank Rule and avoid representing the less enticing of clients. The problem was, no-one would have believed me and the damage I’d have done my tenancy chances was just too much. So I trotted off to the salubrious surroundings of Brent Magistrates’ Court where I met my first ever client, a short, bald, very fat man in his late forties who I shall politely call BullDog.

“So you’re my brief are ye? How old are you mate?”
“Twenty-seven.” I lied. My voice raising an octave in the process.
“And how long you bin practisin’?”
“Three years.” My voice going two octaves deeper as I made a fresh attempt to assert even the tiniest bit of authority. Great. My first words on my first day with my first client and they’re all unadulterated big fat porky pies.
“No way, mate! You must be one of them new ‘uns. It’s April ain’t it? My brief once told me about you lot. Look there’s another one over there.”

And so there was, all fresh-faced, shoes polished, new suit and wide-eyed earnestness. A replica of myself in fact.

I admitted my inexperience.
“So mate. You’ve just lied to your client, have you? Guess you’d better get me a good result today then. Or I might just report you.”

Just what I needed. A client who knew his rights and who now held my professional future in his grubby fat hands. It doesn’t come much more serious than lying to clients.

“So mate. This is the way I see it. I might have been a bad boy in the past but I ain’t bin caught doin’ nuffin’ for two years. Goin’ straight you can say. Tell ‘em about me daughter and ’ow I’ve been workin’ the doors to look after ’er. Might’ve skimmed a bit of the takings that night but never done it before. Know what I mean mate?”

I was beginning to understand.

“So you tell ’em I bin lookin’ after me daughter and that if they sends me inside she’d be back in care.”

When we eventually got into court, the bench was chaired by a stern-looking lady who looked like an older version of TheBoss’ mistress BattleAxe.
“I see Mr [Bulldog] has a long list of previous convictions. How does he expect to avoid a custodial sentence in these circumstances.”

I explained BullDog’s sorry tale and was met with an unflinching glare from the bench.
“Anything more?” I was asked at the end of my submissions.
“Er, no, I don’t think so,” I wavered, not sure if they were suggesting that I had missed something.
“Good.”

They then disappeared for a few minutes and came back and sentenced BullDog to six months in prison. Before he was taken away, he asked for a word with me which was granted.
“Shame about that mate. ’Fraid I’m gonna have to report you now. Real shame that. Just when you done all that work an’ all to qualify.”
“I’m very sorry, Mr [BullDog]. I honestly did my best in there. Honestly. And I’m also really sorry I didn’t tell you that I was new.”
“Too late mate. Although…it might be useful to have another brief on me books. Get quite a lot of me staff up on drugs charges, if know what I mean?”
“Well, if I can help with their defences…”
“Might take you up on that mate. S’pose I could ’old off on that complaint…” he said as he was led away. Then he turned round and gave me his best chubby little smile.
“…for now, anyway”.

So, one appearance in court and already I’m in debt to a racist, drug-dealing gangster.

On balance, not a good day.

Day 127 (week 26): My identity

It’s actually Saturday 31st March today and I am finally putting up my posts for Wednesday to Friday. Been a dreadful few days. As well as the stuff that you can read above I’ve had the scare of my life over this blog. Someone emailed me suggesting that they knew who I was on Wednesday. I panicked and considered taking the whole thing down. When I’d calmed down I went through the details I’ve given about myself and still believe that there is insufficient here to identify me. So I called their bluff by replying, “Name me, then.” To which I have had no reply.

As I’ve said before, please don’t waste your time trying to guess.

In the meantime, I’ve returned to the Boss and agreed to investigate the firm of solicitors. For now, let’s call them FakeClaims&Co. However, I’ve decided that there may be an opportunity for assistance in funding my Ginny project against TopFirst. I therefore asked TheBoss how much he was going to pay me.
“£3,000 to start investigating and £3,000 for any evidence which will implicate them.” He replied.

Should be enough to be getting on with.

Day 126 (week 26): Cab Rank Rule

The papers arrived for my first case in court on Monday. As anticipated they involve a plea in mitigation. All I have is the charge sheet and three lines of instructions from the solicitor which read as follows:

“Instructing Solicitors apologise for the scant nature of the paperwork. Suffice to say that the client is no average scumbag or petty thief caught with his hands in the till though this is what he is being charged with. Counsel will see what Instructing Solicitors mean when he meets the client at court. He is hereby instructed to enter whatever plea in mitigation he sees fit.”

Sounds cryptic and not a little peculiar. Out of curiosity, I google my client’s name. The instructions then start to make a little more sense. Seems he’s not only a tealeaf. If it’s the same person, and it looks like it might be, then he’s also a notorious football hooligan with the Chelsea Headhunters and a member (allegedly) of the extreme right (and extremely violent) Combat 18. Certainly not someone I want to be meeting in a stressful situation never mind representing. I wonder if there’s any way at all to get out of the case. Maybe I’d have a conflict of interest due to the fact that I detest the racist Nazi views he propagates?

I phoned the Bar Standards Board anonymously to seek their guidance. No way out they said. Cab Rank Rule. As with black cabs, if your light is on and you’re available for work then you’re not allowed to pick and choose between the jobs you take. “Even racists have the right to representation” they said. Even so, why do I have top be the one doing it? And on my first day, too?

In my irritation I decide to check out this so-called Cab Rank Rule and hail a black cabbie.
“Can you take me to the top of Chancery Lane please.” I ask in my best barrister voice.
“But that’s only fifty yards away mate. Just over there. You don’t need to cab.”
“Yes, but I’d like to travel in a cab.”
“Just not worth the hassle mate. Have you seen the traffic jam I’d get caught in over there.”
“What about the cab rank rule? Don’t you have to take me wherever I want?”
“Oh. I get it. You’re another of those barristers. Hate ‘em I do. Always reminding me of that stupid rule. Well forget it, mate. Taking the mickey. Report me if you like.”

And with that he drove off.

Day 125 (week 26): The worm turns

Had a meeting with TheBoss today. He’s decided to go on the counter-offensive against his firm of solicitors.
“You’re in up to your neck in this, you realise”, he told me. “If I go down, you go with me.”

This was not what I wanted to hear to say the least.
“I don’t think so. All I did was to keep quiet about seeing that set of papers.”
“Far more than that, BabyB and you know it. You were fully complicit in the plan. But even worse for you is that you’ve since officially denied knowing anything about it. You’d better start realising that soon.”
“So what do you want from me? Why would you want to implicate your pupil?”
“Well, since you’re asking…”

He then went on to explain that he’d heard rumours about the firm of solicitors that are attacking him. He said that there’s been some suggestion that they’re involved in a fake claims scam but he knows nothing more. He wants me to investigate.

Just what I need on top of starting in court and the arrival of ThirdSix. I said that I’d have a think about it and get back to him.

Day 124 (week 26): Hail fellow, well met

After having been warned about ThirdSix yesterday, we were all gathered together this morning and formally introduced to him by HeadofChambers. Quite a few “More tea, vicar” moments as we moved from one awkward silence to another. To be fair (something I like to keep strictly to a minimum), he didn’t seem as awful on first impressions as we’d all like to imagine. Not the geeky swot I’d been expecting. Instead, he’s very much a “Hail fellow, well met” kind of hearty, rugby-playing type. Clubbable and extremely normal. Which is even worse really. BusyBody and Worrier only exacerbated the situation as they stood there salivating at this attractive new addition to the pupillage game. It was as if the name ThirdSix had become their scores for presentation in some ridiculous ‘Pupillage on Ice’ routine. Scorecards held aloft and showing all the sixes in rapturous approval, rather than some indication of his inherent badness. With all this going for him on top of his ridiculous qualifications, I can’t understand why he wasn’t taken on in his previous Chambers. Which is the question I need to be investigating a little more closely.

In the meantime, I got the requisite extension to my professional studies loan. £5,000 in all, not that I’m intending on spending anywhere near that on my little project with TopFirst. But it will always come in handy. Also did some research into hiring someone to play Ginny. Just so you know, even if I end up hiring a prostitute, she will be under strict instructions not to do anything with TopFirst. I aim to de-stabilise, not completely destroy. And anyway, there’s less scope for things to go wrong if I keep a tight hold on the parameters, so to speak. Either way, it doesn’t seem at all easy. I can’t very much just go and ring one of the numbers you see posted on one of those cards in the phone boxes. But where else do I go? First thoughts are for one of those “Test your boyfriend” agencies you read about in the papers. Where they send along some modelly type woman to chat up a boyfriend and see if he’s faithful.

As for the correspondence, TopFirst asked Ginny for a photo of herself today. So I shall have to start interviewing imminently.

Day 123 (week 26): ThirdSix

Today was possibly the worst start to the week imaginable. Just as I am making some progress in my battle with TopFirst, we are all told that for the second six months of pupillage we will be joined by someone who is commonly known as a “third six pupil”. This is basically a barrister who failed to get taken on in his own Chambers and is giving it another go elsewhere. “Git orrrf ma land” was the pretty universal reaction to the news. However much the four of us are in competition (and don’t imagine for a minute that it’s only me being a bit sneaky), there remains a kind of honour among thieves. That whatever we get up to, we’re all in it together. It’s one thing for Celebrity Big Brother to do it to spice up the mix but for a barristers’ Chambers to do it in pupillage…well…it’s just not cricket. Plain and simple. All the more so when we are then told that he is coming from one of the top commercial Chambers at the Bar. With his scholarship to Harvard and his First from Oxford he makes even TopFirst seem like a snivelling lazy skiver struggling to pass his GCSE law. That’s the only good thing, I guess, that it further destabilises TopFirst.

Just not cricket at all.

Day 122 (week 25): HotCake

I hate to have to admit this today but I guess if this blog’s going to mean anything then I can’t very much leave it out. I received a visit from my mother to Chambers. In itself, that sounds pretty normal. But not when she arrives with a hot cake late afternoon and tells the whole clerks’ room that she’s worried that I’ve been working a little too hard and thought that this might cheer me up. Is she mad! I couldn’t have been more mortified when I was called out of a conference with the Boss to greet her. Worse still, OldSmoothie was around and spotted the comedy potential at my expense and so invited her to Chambers’ tea “where everyone can perhaps have a taste of your wonderful culinary skills”. No! Please! Just leave me alone and let me go and hide in the farthest corner of the library.

No such luck and so Chambers were merrily entertained by my mother for the whole of tea regaling the usual motherly embarrassing stories. Worse still, everyone now knows that I continue to live at home. Despite the fact that this is due to Chambers paying me a pittance for my coffee-making skills, it is still something which I had hoped to keep hidden under my little horse hair wig.

On a more positive note, the emails between Ginny and TopFirst are now becoming more regular. However, they’re also starting to get just a little flirty, flirty which is definitely not my bag I can tell you. In fact let’s just not go there. But this is war and in a conflict there are different rules. Well, no rules, truth be told.

And I have an appointment with the bank next week.

Day 121 (week 25): Nobody’s perfect

Today the Boss 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 asked 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. Later in the day, he 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 Ealing which had been lent to us by my uncle whilst I got myself established. Early fifties, you know. 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, Old Ruin. 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. Kind man.”

Dear, sweet, gentle Old Ruin.

Day 120 (week 25): Hiring a professional

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

From: ginnyandtonic@yahoo.co.uk
To: TopFirst
Date: 19 March 2007, 3.28pm

Dear TopFirst,

I’m so grateful and pleased that you found the time to reply to my impertinent request. 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 travelling down to see my (now ex-) boyfriend in Cambridge. However, I pulled it back last year to my own surprise when I got a First. Where did you go to University? What do you think of being a barrister? Sounds very grown up and all. Do you have to go off to court and represent murderers?

Best wishes,

Ginny

Should press of few of TopFirst's buttons...which is a little wierd to say the least. But hey, it doesn't count if it's anonymous...right? Anyway, it might also start eliciting more information about his dad who I already know has a complicated background having been forced from the Bar after being caught with no less than a judge's wife. In the scale of barrister sins, this is pretty much near the top and would leave the culprit in a hopeless position with any judge in the land. The quality of mercy, you can be assured, would not quite be droppething as the gentle rain from heaven.

I also 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.

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, unbeknownst to TopFirst.

“I will not put up with such impudence from anyone TopFirst, never mind 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 within a few more minutes of awkward smalltalk. I followed him out, for appearances sake wanting to offer a sympathetic ear.

“What was that about?” I asked.
“I have absolutely no idea whatsoever.” He replied.
“Well, what did you say to prompt such an outburst?”
“I simply mentioned BusyBody’s predicament…Maybe he already knows and feels protective of the Boss? 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 as well as the Boss, do you?”
“No way! How could she find the time?”
“Well it would explain his reaction.”
“I guess so.”
“Well 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 own self-confidence, which is where good old Ginny comes in.

Day 118 (week 25): Hooked

First bite on the email arrived today from TopFirst. I don’t give him credit for 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: ginnyandtonic@yahoo.co.uk
Date: 19 March 2007, 10.41am

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! Please forgive my impertinence but it might help if you tell me what subject you are 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 in his own self-doubt and insecurities for a couple of days.

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). However, 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. So. It was time for me to set up a new email account for a new imaginary friend. Miss Virginia Haddocks-Brown who chooses to go by the address ginnyandtonic@yahoo.co.uk. Of course she does. With this done, I then sent the following email:

From: ginnyandtonic@yahoo.co.uk
To: TopFirst
Date: 16 March 2007, 8.43pm

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 was round 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 havn’t yet broken it to 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 all 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.

Day 116 (week 24): UpTights

Had lunch with the person who will take over from the Boss as my pupil master at the start of April. Well, pupil mistress to be exact. I shall call her UpTights. She’s in her late-forties with a civil and criminal practice. She’s never married and has no kids (having always put career first) and is Very High Maintenance. Considered calling her BoTucks due to the work she’s had done which gives her a very peculiar kind of stretched “Mother of Barbie” type look. But it is her attitude which defines her.

“The most important thing at the Bar is boundaries, BabyBarista.”
“Sorry?”
“Clearly defined boundaries between work and non-work.”
“Er, yes.”
“I will never ask you about your life outside of Chambers and you will reciprocate. Life here. Life outside. Separate. Is that clear?”
“Of course.” Crystal.

Ouch. And she barks her words in high, clipped military tones which are a cross between Margaret Thatcher in her mad years and a Dalek screaming “Exterminate!”. UpTights is definitely her name. Looks like the easy life I’ve carved out with the Boss is about to be shattered.

“Unless you are in court, you will arrive into Chambers at 8.30am and leave at 6pm, during which your time belongs to me. Time outside those hours does not exist as far as I am concerned. Understand?”
“Yes.” I got it the first time thank you.
“And there’ll be no skiving in the library, just so you know although you will get thirty minutes between twelve thirty and one each day, during which time you will disappear from sight.”

It seems she also has what the Americans might call “personal space issues”.

“When you are in my room, you will not hover around my desk. Absolutely no hovering. Got it. No hovering.”

No hovering. Right. I think I got that too. Promises to be interesting. Particularly as somehow I have to get her onside before the tenancy decision in September. First thoughts revolve around the question as to why she is so defensive. Barriers built over years of working with lecherous dinosaurs such as HeadofChambers and OldSmoothie? Resentment that the rest of the world seems happy? Or just plain nastiness?

Whatever it is, there’s plenty to be getting on with.

Day 115 (week 24): Elephant trap

BusyBody came round in a flap today.

“I’m at least a week late.”
“What are you going on about? Late for what…Oh. Please. Too much information.”
“No, I’m serious. I think I might be pregnant.”
“Have you done one of those test things?”
“Not yet. But I may have to.”
“Have you told FanciesHimself? [our junior clerk]”
“Well, no. Actually, I’m not sure it’d be his or not…”
“What? Who else could it be?”
“Well, do you promise to keep this a secret.”
“Of course.” (Yeh, right).
“You know I mentioned bagging a rich barrister a few weeks ago?”
“Yeeees…” I didn’t like where this was going.
“Well, it was because I had a date with OldSmoothie that night and well, one thing led to another and you know…”
“I can guess. So you’re telling me that you might be pregnant by either OldSmoothie or FanciesHimself and you don’t which?”
“Maybe.”

Golly.

Anyway, needs must and with all the sympathy in the world for BusyBody, opportunities must be grasped and this was a prime one to set somewhat of an elephant trap for TopFirst who has fast become the Chambers’ gossip. A lot of scope for him to put his foot in it if he is just fed slightly inaccurate information. So, as part of our new spirit of co-operation I popped round to his room for coffee this afternoon when his pupilmaster was out.
“BusyBody’s been sick the last couple of mornings apparently.” Just to get the ball rolling.
“Heavy nights or something?”
“Don’t think so, she’s been off the booze for the last few weeks since…”
“Yes, don’t blame her, the way it affects her. Couple of gins…”
“Yes and she drops her briefs. You told me that one last week.”
“I mean, what was she doing with FanciesHimself of all people?”
“I know…Not as bad as The Boss, though.”
“What do you mean? Her and the Boss too? Surely not?”
“No, I’m sure you’re right.”

But we’ll let it ferment a little. As he’s prone to do when his mind is whirring (you can almost hear it), TopFirst cleaned his glasses with his tie and straightened them up on his face. He’d be a dreadful poker player and he’s going to have to get rid of some of these nervous tics if he ever wants to bluff for his clients.
“You don’t suppose she’s pregnant do you?” He mused.
“No.”
“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 Fancies Himself or The Boss.”
“Wouldn’t be good.”
“I’d say.”

And then…I’m afraid I couldn’t resist,
“Old Smoothie was the one who mentioned the Boss 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 just because he is that barrister.

But also because he is on the tenancy committee.

Day 114 (week 24): Romford

Went to court in Romford today with a junior member of Chambers who I will call YoungSmoothie or YoungS for short. It’s not that he’s the son of OldSmoothie but he may as well be. Charm personified although to the extent of being slightly oily. Maybe it’s just something you grow into. Very nice walk through Romford market in which one guy had a rant at YoungS about “coming here in your whistle” which I have to admit meant nothing to me though YoungS explained later somewhat pompously that it was “cockney rhyming slang for whistle and flute, suit”. Anyway, it didn’t feel like the safest place for two barristers dressed for court.

As for the case itself, YoungS was representing an injured man (let’s call him Unlucky) who was claiming some £60,000 in damages for a broken arm caused by tripping over a pothole in a pavement. The other side had offered £15,000 to settle in the past which YoungS had strongly advised rejecting. We eventually recovered only £10,000. After the hearing, the client asked YoungS how much of this money he would see. YoungS explained to him that since he decided not to accept the £15,000 offer several months ago, the other side would not be paying his own legal costs and so they were his responsibility. He was therefore saddled with a bill for £9,500 (including £2,500 for YoungS for the day) which left him with just £500 of his own damages. This was despite the fact he had a “no-win no-fee” agreement and for all practical purposes we had lost today.

“But you advised me not to take the £15,000. Why do I still have to pay your fees?”

“Because I also advised you that ultimately it was your decision and if you didn’t take the offer, there would be some risk and potentially even costs consequences if you didn’t accept. These are those costs consequences. Sorry.”

Given that on anyone’s version he’d had a nasty injury, it seemed, to say the least, pretty unfair that he should end up with only five per cent of his damages after he’d followed his own lawyer’s advice. This was particularly so when that advice turned out to be wrong and the lawyer still got his full fees. As Unlucky left the court, YoungS whispered in a voice loud enough for those around to hear,

“Lawyers one. Clients nil.”

Day 113 (week 24): Prisoner’s dilemma

Top First telephoned me over the weekend. Said he wanted to talk about pupillage. To keep the upper hand, I said I wasn’t around but could meet on Monday. Today we therefore had lunch on Chancery Lane and he immediately started setting out his thoughts. As far as tenancy chances, he figures that Worrier and BusyBody are both dead in the water and that it’s a straight fight between him and I. No prizes for that one Mr Brainbox. He then started waffling on about some "prisoner’s dilemma". Apparently it’s shows "the benefits of co-operation". I have to admit that beyond that he had pretty much lost me although I think I got the gist of his over-analytical thought process. Basically, he was suggesting a truce. That if we help each other for the rest of pupillage there's a pretty good chance that Chambers might take the two of us. But if we fight there's the risk that we both end up fatally damaged. Naturally, I agreed with this and told him that I was relieved that he had come up with such a sensible solution. He could count on my help and support whenever he needed it. This seemed to satisfy him and he went off in rather a cheery mood.

Which was all very peculiar. It must be painful to live in a mind where everything has to be analysed down into facts, figures and over-arching theories. Perhaps it’s something about lawyers and the legal machine that takes away the essence of something and then gives the remains a label. A divorce case, for example, might be a study in human weakness or the fragility of the spirit. Yet lawyers boil it down to "dividing the assets". A fatal accident is a story of loss, grief, pain, yet it becomes an issue of "pricing the damage". Even a fight in a bar might reflect anger, frustration or jealousy and yet all the lawyers can see is whether there was an "assault" or whether it was "self-defence". With surprising creativity they manage to suck the soul from even the most colourful or tragic circumstance in order to fit it into their artificial constructions. Whatever it is about lawyers, what I know for sure is that TopFirst will make a good one.

As for his prisoner’s dilemma, I’ve since looked it up online. It seems it’s about two prisoners deciding whether to co-operate (in which case they both get six months in jail) or to betray each other (in which case they both get two years). So far, so good. But what TopFirst didn’t explain was that the theory goes on to say that if one prisoner co-operates but the other goes behind his back and betrays him, the sneaky sneak gets off scot free whilst the betrayed gets ten years in the clink. Either, he’s trying to pull a fast one or, despite his intelligence, he’s more naive and foolish than even I give him credit for.

Either way, there will be no co-operation.

Day 112 (week 23): Dr4Hire

Even in the most honourable of professions, there is the occasional bad egg. Today I experienced this in relation to an orthopaedic surgeon who I shall call Dr4Hire, a professional expert witness if ever there was one. He boasts on his CV that he completes over 1,500 reports each year. At over £600 a pop, that means he’s bringing home almost £1million a year for his medico-legal work alone and that’s on top of his two days a week NHS practice. Each piece of work consists of a ten minute ‘examination’ followed by a copy and paste job of previous reports and a prognosis in 90% of cases in the following terms:

“The Claimant has suffered from a whiplash injury to her cervical spine. It is now three months from the accident. I would expect the injury to settle within the next nine months. If it has not done so by then I would be happy to re-examine.”

The reality is that almost all of these cases settle early on and Dr4Hire gets his fat fee. Occasionally, a case is slightly bigger and takes a little longer. Today the Boss was having a case conference with Dr4Hire about one such case. The issue arose from the fact that the Claimant had had another accident only two weeks after the one in question. The other side are claiming that the Claimant’s inability to work after those two weeks was due to the second accident. Dr4Hire hadn’t yet commented on this. If the other side are right, the claim is worth £2,000 at most. If not, it’s worth over £250,000. Here’s how parts of the conference went:

“Well Dr4Hire, you’ve looked at the evidence, what is your view as to the effect of the second accident.”
“Well obviously, I think it is irrelevant. Made no difference at all.”
“How do you answer the other side’s point that the Claimant was able to work after the first accident?”
“Well…what do you want me to say here?”
“We’ve worked together many times, Dr4Hire. You know that I can’t tell you what to say. However, he did soldier on despite the pain and was about to give up work at the time of the second accident. I suppose you might want to comment on that.”
“Yes, that’s a good idea. I suppose I might. In fact, I think that the fact that he soldiered on shows what an honest and reliable witness he is.”
“Quite so, Dr4Hire. Quite so.”
“Glad you like it. Would you like me to put that into a report?”
“Certainly. Although you also might want to consider the fact that he visited his GP after the first accident and that he was taking serious amounts of painkillers.”
“Indeed. Yes. Quite so.”

“Now. Turning to the next issue, Dr4Hire. Why didn’t you mention the second accident in your medical report?”
“Because I didn’t want to damage our case.”
“Yes…I understand. Now, let’s see if that can perhaps be phrased more…how shall I put it…independently. Might it be that you considered it such a minor accident as to be irrelevant?”
“Yes, that might very well be. Quite.”

Quite so, indeed. And so it went on. Extraordinary that both the Boss and Dr4Hire will then trot off to court holding themselves out as independent experts in their own fields. Experts? Yes. But only at looking after themselves and making easy money.

Independent? I think not.

Day 111 (week 23): Creep

I learned today the extremes of seriousness with which a barrister can take both himself and the simplest case imaginable. Off to court with a junior member of Chambers who I shall call Creep. Despite the fact that he has only been a barrister for three years he carries himself as if he is a member of the House of Lords. I’ve heard him around Chambers approaching QCs and asking them their thoughts on the latest ruling on a particular aspect of public policy. As if everyone goes round reading the law reports each day. He’ll amble up and mention a quote from a dissenting judgment as if it’s an in-joke, chuckle to himself and stand there fawning to whoever he is targeting that day. He’s desperate to be picked as a junior by one of these big beasts, to get a plum case where he can beaver away in the library and spend several months creeping up to the same person. What he doesn’t appear to realise is that he’s treated as a joke around chambers. No-one wants someone so irritating to be hanging around them everyday and so no junior brief for him. Worse, the clerks can’t stand his jumped up airs and graces and go out of their way to put him in his place with tiny cases in grotty, far-flung courts.

Today, we were in Swindon on a case management conference for a personal injury matter worth all of around £3,000. However, you’d never have guessed it if you overheard him speaking to his solicitor.
“I’ve been perusing the papers and my opinion is that there are a number of important issues which this case raises…”

No there aren’t. The Claimant has offered £3,500. The Defendant £2,500. The case will settle for £3,000. Nevertheless, Creep spent a full half an hour introducing the case to the District Judge despite the fact he didn’t even have an opponent. Eventually he was interrupted with,
“I’m sorry Mr Creep, but correct me if I’m wrong. All we have to do today, is set a trial date?”
“Well, technically Sir that is correct. However…”
“However, Mr Creep, this hearing was listed for five minutes and it has already gone on thirty. Are you ready for trial?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Good. List for the first open date after 1st April. Costs in the case. Good morning Mr Creep.”

Day 110 (week 23): Greed is good

An anonymous reader left a comment yesterday asking “at what cost” for a tenancy, presumably referring to the cost to our souls. Don’t let’s con ourselves here. Lawyers sell their souls the moment they start billing by the hour. Admittedly, they’re not cheap. But don’t get taken in by any high-minded justifications such as pursuing an honourable profession or seeking justice. They do it for the money. Cold hard stinking cash. Their time…is money. Literally. As faustian a pact as you’ll find and if they hadn’t got that, they’d have never survived a law degree when they could have been reading English literature, media studies (whatever that is) or anything other than dry, turgid irrelevant law reports. Artists, actors, sportsmen. Many might be more paid than lawyers. But I’m prepared to accept that most are not doing that for the money. Lawyers, never! Would they even get out of bed without the promise of it. Never. Never. Never.

But ah, you might say. What about those poor junior barristers at the criminal bar? Surely they don’t do it for the money? Of course they do. Maybe not the money now but it goes back to the arrogance thing. They all believe they’ll be the ones bringing in the serious wedge in years to come. It just takes longer to get there in some areas than others. It’s all greed. So, no more comments with any such high-minded nonsense. Instead, let’s try something novel in the legal profession and start being honest not only with ourselves but also with each other for once.

As for Chambers today, Teflon was looking rather tired. According to TopFirst, the pizza delivery company woke him up in the early hours of the last two mornings. Silly them. I hope he enjoyed his hawaiian on Monday and his margharita on Tuesday. Better is the fact that I sent him an email yesterday under a false identity pretending to be a member of the public dangling a big personal injury case in front of him. I sought his preliminary advice on the merits of my case before approaching a solicitor. All I needed was a few lines telling me if I had a case or not. If he thought I did, then obviously the case would be his down the line. Maybe it was because he was tired or maybe simply his stupidity coming out again but he fell for it hook line and sinker with the following reply:

“Dear Jane, Thank you very much for your email. Whilst strictly I am not meant to advise you directly without a solicitor, I have read what you have to say and can certainly tell you that you have a good case.”

Too right he’s not allowed to advise without a solicitor. But greed can be good and it can be bad and for Teflon today, it sunk him. I forwarded his email to the Bar Standards Board with the subject heading “Professional Conduct Complaint.”

Some might say, “Case closed.”

Day 109 (week 23): Free fall

TopFirst came round to gloat today. Wanted to know what it was like “spending time in jail”. “Must have been really cool”. Once again, I only hope that he gets up other people’s noses as much as my own. As I’ve seen before, he has a tendency to jump the gun when there is the smell of blood in the air. That he becomes a gossip when it can damage a fellow pupil is not in the least unusual. That he becomes breathless with the exhilaration is fatal. Vanity. Hubris, even. Enough for me to be getting on with. But it will need planning and ultimately a little luck.

In the meantime, Worrier’s been taking her life-coach’s advice a little too seriously. She now sees her “little difficulties” (accusing the Head of Chambers of being sexist) as an “opportunity to show her character” by “turning the situation on its head”. She’s certainly losing her head. Sounding more and more each day like a member of a cult. “Pupillage is great”. “I love the way they challenge our patience.” Is she mad? We’ve spent years preparing for this time and all we are tested on is our coffee-making skills for a bunch of arrogant barristers and their slightly less arrogant solicitor mates and she says it’s “a wonderful, life-enhancing experience”. It’s doing a number of things to me and my head, but enhancing is not one of those. Maybe it’s just the time of year getting to me. Maybe I’m just getting nervous about starting in court but today I have to admit that I’ve begun to question the point of this whole pupillage exercise. Pretty much every other job in the world can be interviewed for over a period of days or weeks. Not so, the Bar. Why do they think they’re so special that they can spend a whole year mistreating you whilst at the same time only giving you a one in four chance of taking you on? Bear baiting. Cockfighting. All sports which have been banned on the basis of cruelty. Yet they leave pupils to fight it out, Death Match style. A free for all that most will lose.

Except that I realise they only get away with it because of our own arrogance. No pupil believes underneath that they will not be taken on. Otherwise, no pupil would subject themselves to such ritual and protracted humiliation. Maybe it’s a ruthlessly efficient way of working out who will make it at the Bar. After all, for all it’s airs and graces, the courtroom is no more than a low down dirty free for all just like pupillage. Survival of the fittest. Yet whilst they all believe they can win, only some of us will be right in that assessment. Others, will lose their minds along the way.

Worrier, I fear, lost hers several weeks ago and is now in free fall.

Day 108 (week 23): Laughing stock

I was wrong about Teflon. He is stupider than I thought. Not only did he not keep quiet about the fact that I was sent to jail on Friday. He has deemed it fit to broadcast it to Chambers in a mass email entitled “Pupillage just got tougher” in which he has taken the picture of me on the Chambers’ website and added a wig along with a black and white striped jailbird top and some fake prison bars. Cheap courtroom big lie tactic. If he hits me hard enough some of it will stick and any suggestion that fault lies elsewhere will fall on deaf ears. By now, he’ll have deleted the records on his phone and without getting full discovery from his mobile company (no chance), there will be no way for me to prove it was him. So I’m left just to grin and bear it and hope the embarrassing episode passes by as quickly as possible. Needless to say it has led to many an amused look from members of Chambers. Worst of all is the fact that I am the laughing stock of the library community of pupil skivers who have been rattling their keys whenever I pass by their table. Very funny, I must say.

The Head Clerk called me in this afternoon and told me not to worry. He’d once had to bail out one of his barristers from a local police station after a long and very boozy lunch which had ended in the barrister standing on the steps of the High Court in full court dress and suggesting an end to judicial tyranny and a call to revolution. Okay, so they’ve got some perspective on the matter. Nevertheless, Teflon has damaged my chances of tenancy and he will pay. I haven’t told anyone that he dropped me in it. That way, when I strike, no-one will suspect other than (possibly) him who will of course be unable to point the finger without at the same time incriminating himself. So far, I have set up hotmail and yahoo accounts in his name. I also have his home phone number, home address, date of birth and obviously his work address. Enough to be getting on with.

Identity fraud is so very easy.

Day 107 (week 22): Porridge

Well today I am reporting something that I thought I’d never say. A judge sent me to jail. Only for one hour, but nevertheless… All happened when I was accompanying a junior member of Chambers to Maidstone County Court who I shall call Teflon. This is a Combined Court Centre and so you have both the civil and criminal courts all in one. More particularly, there are cells in loco. The District Judge at our hearing was very clearly old school and also in a bad mood. No doubt about it. Furthermore, Teflon was getting the brunt of that mood. Anyway, halfway through the morning a mobile phone went off and Teflon immediately turned to me and glared, after which the whole courtroom did the same. I reacted by checking my mobile phone, realising it had not been me and putting it back in my pocket. However, whilst everyone was looking at me, I very clearly saw Teflon quickly take his mobile from his pocket and switch it off. All well and good. Were it not for the fact that the Judge continued staring at me.
“Do you not know the rule against the use of mobile phones in this court?”
“Yes,” I answered. “But…”
“But nothing, young man. It only makes it worse that you were aware of the rule.”
“But, it…”
“Young man, do not interrupt me when I am speaking. You are only making matters worse for yourself. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“You are presumably also aware about how I deal with such an offence to the dignity of this court?”
“No sir.”
“Well you are about to find out. Please stand up.”
I stood.
“Young man, I hereby find you guilty of contempt of court and sentence you to one hour in the cell during which time you are to reflect on your lack of respect for the office of this court.”

He then telephoned for a security guard who immediately came to collect me and led me down to the cells, smirking as he did so. I wanted to shout out, “It wasn’t me” or as many clients call it, after the song, “Taking the Shaggy”. However, I was so utterly stunned by the speed of events and the scale of the escalation that I was silenced. I looked over to Teflon (hence the name) but he was staring at his notes. “Save the Maidstone One” I also wanted to shout. But again, nothing. Not even anything half witty. Do not pass go, do not collect £200. And then I was doing porridge. Time inside. No longer a free man. Not that I saw any evidence of oatmeal or gruel. I was put in a holding cell during which time I was able to catch up on the latest from Philip Schofield and Fern Britton on ‘This Morning’.

I was collected by the security guard an hour later and led back to court and put behind Teflon. On the way, the guard told me that the Judge had done this a few times. That I wasn’t to worry. Just “one of his foibles”. Some foible! When I arrived back, the Judge made no further remarks. Worst of all, I never even got an apology from Teflon on the way back to Chambers. Seems he’d decided to brave it out, figuring that I would decide that it wasn’t in my interests around Chambers to tell tales or to make any challenge to the judge’s ruling. “Strange thing for the Judge to do…funny little incident…” was all that he said about it, before changing the subject. Well and truly stitched up. Teflon is foolish. What he forgets is quite how easy it is to cause trouble for barristers even if I decide to let this one lie.

My real worry is whether I might be under an obligation to report this to the Bar Standards Board as we have to tell them of pretty much all crimes other than traffic offences. For the moment, I figure the quid pro quo is that Teflon will also be wanting to keep it under his non-stick wig in case I am forced to defend myself at his expense. I have therefore decided it’s better for me simply not to ask the Bar Standards Board than to risk what I might be told.

Day 106 (week 22): Instincts

Spent some time with the Boss today. He’s been asked to write a summary of his case in the complaint against him in front of the Bar Standards Board. Hmm. The question in effect boiled down to, “What do you have to say which can possibly mitigate your amending Chambers’ records and fraudulently deceiving your solicitors that it was them and not you who had missed the limitation deadline for issuing a case”. And the answer…“Not a lot.” Poor Boss. At least he’s now made the decision to plead guilty and aim for reducing his sentence. He’s almost certain to get suspended for at least a year and maybe even permanently. It depends what he comes up with. My guess is that he’ll go for stress brought on by a wicked wife who had driven him into the arms of one of his instructing solicitors. The pressure was all just too much. Yeh, right. Let’s just hope there isn’t a woman sitting on the tribunal, for his sake.

He will also almost certainly get kicked out of Chambers. In fact, it’s surprising that he hasn’t been already and there’s definitely an element of blood being thicker than water running through the place. “One of us” and all that. Anyway, if he keeps his sentence down, he’ll still walk into a lesser Chambers. There are plenty of places at the moment that are desperate for barristers prepared to pay the rent. He’s also likely to get the work back. Solicitors are rarely aware of any barristers’ professional misconduct history. He’s even started to perk up on occasions and has mentioned that he might try and get his divorce settled during any period of suspension at which point he will be penniless and therefore any settlement will be very much less than if he were still in Chambers. Yes, so insane that he’s already got an angle to profit from his own misfortune. Of course.

Meanwhile, Battleaxe, his sturdy instructing solicitor and erstwhile mistress has remained faithful both in her affection and, luckily for the Boss, in the work that she continues to provide. In fact, such is the disdain of the clerks for the Boss at the moment that she is almost his only source of work. This means that he’s more often than not in late and leaving early which is just perfect if you’re his pupil apart from the mood swings that come with it.

In the meantime, this week, TopFirst’s been trying to chummie up. The only reason I can think of is that like me he’s realised that the other two are history and it’s a straight fight between the two of us. Plus, maybe he figures that in a showdown, he’s not going to be second to draw. Not that I think he realises any of my role in the downfall of the other two. But “instinct can be a powerful thing” as Old Ruin has often drummed into me. “Follow your instinct, BabyB. It’s worth a hundred times more than the limited amount of evidence which ever makes it into a court room.”

I do like OldRuin.

Day 105 (week 22): Professionally embarrassed

Given that I will be starting off in a Magistrates Court, the clerks allowed me to go off today and watch a member of Chambers do a case in Thames Magistrates Court. If you thought County Courts were grotty (and most of them are), you should take a look at their criminal law counterparts. Not only are the surroundings less salubrious but the atmosphere, unsurprisingly, has an edge of violence which is tempered only by the large number of police witnesses milling around. Went along with Junior Tenant who was mumbling that he was now above such appearances. Apparently he’s only getting £50 for the morning which bearing in mind he has to pay Chambers’ rent and also his expenses out of that, he’ll probably only be left with around £30. All he had was the name of the client and the time of the hearing. No papers or instructions from his solicitor. Luckily for him, the client (who we’ll call Guilty) wasn’t in any state to realise JuniorTenant’s difficulties. His thin pock-marked face had a feral quality which was only made worse by his twitching.
“I’m innocent right. It weren’t me and that’s an end to it.” He said, swaggering around in a bad impression of Liam Gallagher from ten years ago.
“You’re me brief. You sort it out.”

Rather than asking Guilty what he was up for, JuniorTenant snook off and whispered to the CPS that he had absolutely no idea what this was all about. The CPS barrister was not at all surprised and lent him the witness statements against Guilty. Apparently he tried to walk out of a local shop with three bottles of vodka stuffed under his jumper. Very original. Caught on CCTV and identified by two witnesses as well as the shopkeeper. JuniorTenant returned to Guilty and told him that his advice was that he should indeed plead to that effect.
“No way. I know I done it and you know I done it but that old judge up there, he don’t know nuffin' of the sort. You gonna get me off.”

That gave JuniorTenant his fast ticket back to Chambers. He rather formally said,
“Are you telling me that you want to plead not guilty even though you did it?”
“Yeh. Tha’s right. Tha’s wha' ‘appened last time with me brief. He said he’d sor' it and he did.”
“I see. Well…I’m afraid that in those circumstances I am no longer able to represent you as to do so I would have to mislead the court which I am not allowed to do. I am therefore professionally embarrassed.”
“What yeh goin’ on about? Can’t understand a word you’re sayin'.”
“I can’t represent you any longer?”
“Course yeh can.”

And so the "Can't" "Can" pantomine went on. Guilty had clearly never met a Brief so precious about his professional obligations before and wasn't prepared to cave in now which is just what JuniorTenant both wanted and anticipated as it gave him his way out of the case. Within half an hour, he’d requested an adjournment, nodding and winking at the magistrate as he said,
“I regret to report that I will have to withdraw from the case for reasons which though I am unable to tell you, I am sure you understand.”

Why not just go out and say it? May as well have done. The magistrate nodded and winked back and the CPS representative smirked. A right one we have here, he was clearly thinking. Anyway, suffice it to say that JuniorTenant was safely esconced back in Chambers and away from the grime of the criminal courts by lunchtime.

Day 104 (week 22): School’s out

I now have less than five weeks to go until my first appearance in court. And that’s official. Got my first case booked into the diary today. Monday 2 April at Brent Magistrate’s Court. Plea in mitigation apparently. In other words, a very big “sorry”, with bells on. Very worrying both for me and also for the client…if he knew, which he won’t. Just make sure that you never get sent to court in April or May, a time when the court system turns into a playground for baby barristers. School’s out and they’re all running around, fighting each other, falling over, getting their legs grazed and generally misbehaving.

But be in no doubt that despite all appearances (the brand new wig and gown for a start), these are novices of the first order. For my own part, I have 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. All I can say is that I’m just glad I’m not the one in trouble. The real irony is that for the first few months, over half the work we’ll be doing is criminal. Target practice with people’s lives and liberty until we learn to shoot straight and give up childish things in favour of the civil courts. Kind of seems the wrong way round somehow but there you go.

Day 103 (week 22): Hiring from below stairs

It’s been like an episode of Upstairs Downstairs today. The details as to BusyBody’s activities have now spread around Chambers. It seems the second junior clerk, let’s call him FanciesHimself whispered it as “top secret” to OldSmoothie. Foolish in the extreme. OldSmoothie then mass emailed about ten people in Chambers with a word for word account of what FanciesHimself had told him. Needless to say, this was then forwarded to the rest of Chambers and is probably still rattling its way around cyber space. To spare you the sordid details, suffice it to say that BusyBody fell for FanciesHimself’s not to subtle charms and for one beautiful evening they were a couple. Come the next morning, for once in his life, FanciesHimself was on the receiving end of the sort of rejection he had inflicted at least once a week to a different girl in his home town of Southend according to his own very colourful accounts. BusyBody apparently made it clear in no uncertain terms as to why things would be going no further. This has put FanciesHimself into unknown territory and it seems that he’s actually claiming to be quite hurt. According to OldSmoothie, this meant that he had to go on a weekend bender just to “get his mind straight”. The Head Clerk, his boss, apparently told him that he was going to pretend that it didn’t even happen as to do otherwise would be just too much to contemplate. The Head of Chambers is also officially turning a blind eye for similar reasons.

There was a flurry of emails around Chambers following OldSmoothie’s revelations. One sums up what many were saying: “If you hire from below stairs, you can only expect below stairs behaviour.” Reminded me of Alan Clark’s wife who once said “If you bed people of below stairs class, they will go to the papers.” Basically reference to BusyBody’s working class background. Whilst a scholarship to a South London day school had led her to cover up her South London drawl, it has noticeably returned in recent weeks as she has become increasingly stressed. Some people had already started mimicking her accent and this has now turned into a full-on gameshow complete with clerk story to boot. The reality is that even in the twenty-first century, ten years after Tony Blair’s “New Labour, New Britain” rubbish, there are dinosaurs still surviving in many barristers’ Chambers.

Worst of all today was that I noticed that TopFirst was getting stuck in on the insults. Until now he seems to have risen above such behaviour but when I overheard him sharing the story with another member of Chambers I was not only surprised but also relieved to discover that like everyone else, he has a weakness. Like a shark with the smell of a fellow pupil’s blood in the water, his instincts took over and for the first time he showed that even he can be reckless. More importantly, he gave away in that simple conversation just quite how much he wants a tenancy in Chambers.

All I have to do now is to work out how I can ultimately turn this against him.

Day 102 (week 21): Scandal

Quite a few things have happened during my pupillage so far, not least that the Boss has committed fraud and been found out and the Head of Chambers’ sexism has appeared on YouTube. However, none of this compares to what (allegedly) happened last night. BusyBody went home with one of Chambers’ clerks. There’s nothing that makes a scandal more juicy than a bit of old-fashioned snobbery and this had the snobs gossiping in their droves this morning.

About twenty members of Chambers had gotten together in a wine bar with a few friendly solicitors to launch a book written by a particularly boring member of Chambers (and that’s saying something). Not exactly the height of glamour for a so-called book launch but nevertheless the champagne was flowing. The clerks had all been invited along as has been Chambers’ policy now for the last two years. Before that, only the head clerk was ever allowed out to social functions and even then only on marketing events. Ridiculous policy considering the clerks are not only the people who bring in most of the work but are far more capable of socialising with solicitors than most of the eccentrics in Chambers.

Anyway, the worries over the mixing barristers and clerks came to fruition last night to the horror not only of many members of the Bar but, it has to be said, a few of the clerks too. Don’t let it be said that the divide has only been perpetuated by the barristers. It seems some of the clerks also cling to the old divisions. Anyway, whatever the rights and wrongs, BusyBody drunkenly stumbled into a taboo. So far, no-one quite knows what happened but they were certainly seen canoodling on the street as they waited for a cab.

Poor BusyBody. Her head was bowed low today and she refused to talk to anybody. She’s already ruined any chances of getting taken on and she’s now gone and ruined her chances of bagging that rich barrister, too. Or at least one in these Chambers.

Day 101 (week 21): TidySum

Worrier came to see me today and asked if I was interested in earning a little money on the side, “devilling”. I didn’t know what she was going on about. I know she’s been having a hard time but joining and then recruiting for some devil worship cult seemed a bit of an extreme reaction. No, she corrected me. It’s a bar tradition. What it apparently refers to is the practice of barristers employing junior barristers to do the work for them. But I thought we were obliged to be self-employed as barristers? Not able to employ other lawyers, unlike solicitors? Well, Worrier explained. Technically, that’s true. However, it seems there’s a loophole for “devilling”. It seems to get by on the basis that it’s an informal fee for “research”. However, Worrier went on to explain that there’s a barrister in Gray’s Inn who I shall call TidySum who has taken this to a completely new level. He currently has around thirty little devils around the bar and pays them up front one third of what he bills out for the work. This basically gives them £50 per hour which is a lot more than they’d be getting in alternative part-time work. Solicitors love him as he’s turning his papers around within forty-eight hours (although they might be surprised to hear that the work is being done by pupils). They send the brief down and he then hands it over to pupils and other junior barristers who need a bit of extra cash flow. Running it as a very healthy business. He’s based in a Chambers but they just let him be in a small annex which has the nickname “Hell’s Kitchen” for obvious reasons. He's certainly living up to his nickname by all accounts.

Anyway, I decided to go along for an interview with Worrier. There was a queue outside his room which that for a tuck shop. All standing around chatting. It seems you just rock up with your CV, he checks you out and then gives you the papers with a requirement that you return them by the next day. Worrier got a small Particulars of Claim in a contract dispute involving a faulty dishwasher. I was given an Advice as to the value of the injury in a tripping case. Should take us an hour each and we’ll both be £50 richer by tomorrow. Lawyers are a curious breed. They spend so much time devising rules to regulate themselves and then even more time devising ways of getting around those rules. Surely there must be more constructive ways of employing some of our supposedly top brains?

As for BusyBody, I walked in on her today as she was lying on the ground with her feet in the air. She announced to me that the had officially given up all hope of getting taken on in Chambers and she had therefore decided to achieve “inner peace and harmony” through “yoga and bagging a rich barrister to keep me”. I’ve now decided that given his recent difficulties, association with the Boss is only likely to hinder by association. I therefore told her that the Boss was thinking of dumping Battleaxe and that he has told me that he continues to lust after her (both lies). However, BusyBody has other ideas:
“He’s a loser. I’m not tagging on to that mess. No. I’ve got my eye on a bigger prize. Much richer and, for what it’s worth, better looking. And with a wife and family at home, he's not likely to be too demanding on my time.”

I was to get no more details from her today, although Old Smoothie springs to mind.

Day 100 (week 21): Battleaxe

Today someone tried to guess who I am. There is no point but for the record, I do not have the initials “PL”. An American reader wanted to know exactly what pupillage is. That is a question I have been asking myself lately. Ostensibly it’s the final part of the training for the Bar. The reality is that most of one’s time is spent making coffee, photocopying and being a general dogsbody around Chambers. What this has to do with being a barrister I’ll never know. After six months of this then you might think that all I’d be qualified for is perhaps to aspire to be a supervisor at Starbucks. But no. Instead, come the 2 April, I will be given a provisional practising certificate and let loose on an otherwise unsuspecting public by being allowed to conduct my own cases in court. Six months after this and I become a fully-fledged practising barrister. So, there you go. Just so you know. It might even work if your pupilmaster wasn’t a corrupt, yellow coward who under-settled all his cases and got off with his solicitor behind his wife’s back.

Talking of which, I finally met the mistress last night. The Boss was celebrating another settlement (obviously) and insisted on taking me to the local wine bar for a glass (or seven) of champagne. In the last couple of weeks this (ie settlement followed by champagne) has become an increasingly frequent occurrence. He’s cashing in his cases early in anticipation of the possibility of being struck off in a few months. Anyway, she was not what I expected at all. I already have the impression of the Boss’ wife as demanding, expensive and generally high maintenance and I therefore expected his mistress to be some meek, pouting solicitor who assuaged all his many insecurities. Far from it. We shall call her Battleaxe. She has a laugh like a horse, a voice like a horse and in many ways even looks like a horse. And a packhorse at that. Even after a lot of champagne. Sturdy to the point of being almost square. She’d certainly struggle to fit into the Boss’ Ferrari. However, I should have seen it coming as no sooner had she opened her mouth to reveal staccato, clipped vowels than I suddenly realised that she was just an older version of my fellow pupil BusyBody with whom the Boss has also been flirting.

Day 99 (week 21): No respect

My blog seems to have attracted some publicity in the last couple of days. I particularly enjoyed one of the comments which came from an American laywer in response to my post about the curious situation that leaves fatal accidents costing insurers a lot less than near fatal ones. It said, “That's why we have the wrongful death statute over here. Otherwise, good incentive to just back up the lorry, have another go, and finish off the bloke.” Comforting to know.

Anyway, with all this interest, I’ve had to go through the blog and have now changed sufficient details to keep this anonymous. Thankfully, there’s absolutely no hope of the Boss ever spotting it as he’s completely computer illiterate. He even refuses to use email as a matter of “high” principle. Gets the clerks to print out any emails he receives. Any that need a reply, he dictates into the form of a letter which he then sends snail mail to his typist. Thinks he is making a “principled” stand against modernity whereas it’s just another outlet for his snobbery. Though he sometimes pretends not to understand what it is, at other times, he blames email for a lowering of the standards of literacy and communication. Refuses to demean himself to “the lowest common denominator”. In fact, the idea of a breakdown in society generally has been bothering him rather a lot of late. Blames it for much of his difficulties in fact.

“Things are far too accountable these days.” [Meaning: “How dare they question my word, even if it was a lie.”]

“People have no respect.” [Meaning: “Whatever I’ve done wrong, people should still know their place.”]

“What right do solicitors have to be questioning a barrister in such a way?” [Meaning: “What happened to good, old-fashioned deference and for good measure, immunity from suit.”]

Day 98 (week 21): Cheaper to kill...

Today we had a conference with the solicitor in a fatal accident case. Tragic accident at work when a builder was killed by machinery falling on top of him. The Boss was representing the employer’s insurers and commented pretty early on that the case was, “A lot cheaper by virtue of him having died. Could have been worth millions in loss of earnings if he’d lived.” As it is, the deceased was separated from his wife and had no kids and the claim is therefore worth hardly anything at all.

Very strange law that makes it cheaper to kill than to maim.

In the meantime, BusyBody has gone from desolate moping to utterly hyper with no transition period in between. She´s now a caricature even of her old self. Her words are spewing out even faster than normal and mysteriously her quite posh middle England accent is occasionally dropping the odd vowel in favour of South London drawl. I´ve also heard about sightings of her working in Chambers as early as 6am and as late as midnight. All very strange, even if she is my competition. I have to admit to feeling slightly responsible for this due to the stitch up about YouTube and the Head of Chambers. However, whenever I have asked hw she was, all I get back is a staccato, “All fine. Good. Excellent. Anyway. Very busy. Very. Lots of papers. Must get through them. Lots. Anyway. Thank you. Yes. All OK. Anyway. So. How are you?”

Day 97 (week 20): OldSmoothie

Received a visit today from a member of Chambers that I shall call ‘OldSmoothie’. Not after the yoghurty fruit drink but because of his oily, self-confidence which oozes from every pore. Think To the Manor Born and Milk Tray Man but not quite there on either count. He’s about fifty. He was made a QC five years ago until which time he was moderately successful. Since then he has struggled for any work at all. It’s a common misconception that all QCs are rich. Sure, many earn just oodles of cash. Others earn no more than before they took silk. Then there is a significant minority whose practices simply collapse. They’re now too senior for the cases they were doing before and simply not good enough to get the cream. Worst of all, once you’re a QC, you can’t ‘un-silk’ yourself or whatever the word might be if someone ever tried. Have wondered if perhaps there might be some sort of legal action on the basis that it is anti-competitive or unduly restrictive. However, most people at that stage would have too much pride to fight for such a demotion and the public humiliation that would go with it. The other side of the coin is that most have stashed away enough by that point to be financially secure in any event. Many go on to become judges. Others, go on to become Committee Men, both at home and at work. Committees for their golf clubs, their private members clubs and of course, for their Chambers. OldSmoothie was just such a man.

Well, today Smoothie had a task for me from one of his committees in Chambers. It was in fact, the pupillage committee and what he wanted me to do was to sift through all of the applications for mini-pupillage and weed out those who we didn’t want. He instructions went as follows:

“You’re an Oxford man like myself. Figure I can ask you to do this properly without any complaint. Here’s what I want. Plain and simple. Take out the following and then give me the rest. No sixth-formers looking for work experience. No-one who’s been to a polyversity or whatever they call themselves these days. Doesn’t fool me. No-one over fifty – we’ll be subsidising their rent for ten years and then they’ll retire. Oh, and no-one called Wayne or Shane. Just wouldn’t look good on the board.”

Reminded me of the apocryphal story of a recruiter for an investment bank who randomly picked up half of the application forms and threw them in the bin.
“Well”, he answered, “we don’t want the unlucky ones.”

Day 96 (week 20): It`s all about costs

It’s all about costs, I’ve realised. Everything. The whole legal world. Not justice. Not rights. Not defending the innocent or prosecuting the guilty. It’s cold, hard, calculated costs. Hours and minutes translated into money. Cash for the accident management companies, cash for the solicitors, cash for the barristers, cash for the experts and occasionally even cash for the clients. Be in no doubt, it is cash which drives this whole machine. The latest example of this came from a talk I was forced to go to this evening on whether the small claims limit for personal injury cases should be raised from £1,000 to £5,000.

The thing you need to know immediately is that you only get a tiny amount of costs in the Small Claims Court. So, a personal injury case worth £800 might only bring on a few hundred pounds worth of costs. Yet ones worth £1,500 believe it or not regularly bring in bills of over £6,000. So, if the government increases the limit for the Small Claims Court, solicitors get less costs. Plain and simple. Yet we all had to listen to some great legal brains piping up all the reasons under the sun other than that they would earn less money as to why the limit should not increase. Some may have been in earnest. However, to an outsider most appeared at best disingenuous.

The law at its very worst, exposing its filthy tarnished soul for all to see.

Day 95 (week 20): St. Valentine´s Day massacre

The spirit of Valentines Day doesn`t seem to have reached its way as far as Chambers. In fact, it`s been more like the St. Valentine`s Day massacre round here what with the Boss` obvious difficulties and then there´s BusyBody who I really think is not very well. She´s been moping around and only getting as far as a mumble in terms of chat. She had mentioned appealing the finding of the Head of Chambers a week or so ago but it seems from what I have been able to work out that she`s taken some advice from a criminal barrister friend of hers and he has told her that unless she can come up with any evidence to rebut the conclusion that the YouTube incident was her, then there`s just no point. Circumstantially the evidence points only one way.

Day 94 (week 20): Harlow County Court

So far in pupillage I’ve been to some pretty grotty places. Willesden and Mold I have mentioned. Bow County Court in Stratford is also pretty bad. However, today I visited the worst so far: Harlow in Essex. Usually a town has a heart. A beat to which even the violence steadily pulses. A character all of its own. Not so Harlow. It is town without a heart. A flatliner. A town where any life which enters risks having its soul sucked dry before it can escape. A badlands without redemption. A no-town.

Today, I visited its court. I hope never to see that place again.

Day 93 (week 20): Double shuffle

Some Mondays you just struggle to get anything done at all and this was most definitely one of those. So, rather than turning to the Boss’ papers which are decreasing by the day, I instead pulled the ultimate bunk relying on the fact that the Boss and the clerks are hardly even talking at all at present. I therefore told the Boss that the Clerks were sending me off to Luton for 12 noon. I told the Clerks that the Boss needed me to do some research in the library. Classic double shuffle. Strolled back around 4pm having watched the latest Bond movie in Leicester Square.

Some days pupillage really isn’t so bad after all.

Day 92 (week 19): Two down…

That Friday feeling today. So far, I´m a third of the way through pupillage and I have to say the least neutralised two of my three opponents for tenancy. TopFirst will be a challenge but today I´m feeling optimistic. The opportunity will present itself, of that I have no doubt. In the meantime, I must prepare the ground.

Day 91 (week 19): Contingency plans

I am starting to wonder what the Boss is taking. He´s certainly been through the mill and he was hardly stable even when I started pupillage. However, his behaviour is becoming more erratic by the day. Today he burst into the room around 11.30am and started walking around in a circle saying to himself,
“Who needs it anyway. I´ll go and live on a desert island and become a writer. I´ll act as a consultant to solicitors. I´ll..”

He hesitated and stared at me during his pause.“You know, he continued. We start off in this job with so much potential. The world is our oyster and with the skills we needed to get here we could have done anything we chosen. We then spend years taking ourselves further and further away from the mainstream until we are so specialised that if we were to jump ship there is not even a life-raft nearby. We are good only for being barristers. Otherwise it´s straight back down to the bottom of the pile aged forty-six.”

Day 90 (week 19): GoodThing

One of the QCs in Chambers came to see me today. I’ll call him GoodThing due to the fact that I have never seen him be downright nasty to anyone. He pretended randomly to be just passing but it was clear he can come for a small chat. The first thing he told me after the small talk was not to worry if the Boss was sending out all of my work without even checking it. It was the Boss’ responsibility and would reflect only on him if anything went wrong.

He then went on to mention in the most roundabout way that everyone was aware that the Boss had a reputation for settling his cases and that I was not to assume that that was normal.
“We’re paid to fight cases and never forget that. Yes, sometimes cases may settle but remember, the solicitors will already have given it a pretty good go even before it gets anywhere near court. So, unless something changes, you get yourself right in there and fight.”

My guess is that there has been concern as to the influence which the Boss may have been having on my training and development.

They would be right to be worried.

Day 89 (week 19): A kick while down

Poor old Boss. I am genuinely feeling sorry for him at this stage of his problems. No sooner has he been granted a reprieve by Chambers than he is given a reminder of his difficulties with a double whammy today. One was the letter he had been expecting from the Bar Standards Board confirming that a complaint had been made against him. The other was from his professional insurers, the Bar Mutual, asking him to keep them posted as to any further developments on the case. This was then made worse by a phone call from his wife half way through the afternoon where she was clearly hassling him about the divorce and the financial arrangements which needed to be put in place.

For all his lack of spine, the fact he is bearing up at all under all of this is a testament to a hitherto invisible streak of metal within.

Day 88 (week 19): Vexatious

Today is litigant-in-person day once again. Let’s call him Vexatious for today’s purposes. Kind of a Groundhog Day in that it felt much the same as the last hearing in Bromley. Once again, avoided anything but the briefest of unpleasantries and then we were straight into court. The judge took control from the very start. He was clearly more prepared for Vexatious than the last time and gave him short shrift on his initial application for an adjournment and then for permission to appeal.

It was then time for Vexatious to present his case. He started by reeling off a summary which looked set to take the rest of the day. The judge cut him short and asked him if he had any witnesses.
“Only myself.”
“Well perhaps you would be kind enough as to direct yourself to the witness box then, Mr [Vexatious].”
“Yes, my Lord.”
“Your Honour.”
“Yes, my Lord, whatever you want to call me.”
“No, my name is Your Honour.”
“Sorry, Your Honour, My Lord.”
“Would you now like to take the oath.”
“No.”
“Why not.”
“Because I don’t believe in this oppressive system of so-called justice and therefore I will not swear any oath of allegiance to it or anyone associated with it.”
“It’s just an oath to tell the truth.”
“Oh.”
“So, repeat the words on the card in front of you.”

And so it went on all morning. He told us all about how the Council had it in for him and had been picking on him ever since he highlighted their error. He then went on to talk about the stress and injury which he had suffered. The judge then asked him:
“Do you have any medical evidence to support your claim in this respect?”
“Yes, Your Lord. I have a photocopy here from a medical textbook from the library. It shows that stress can cause all sorts of illnesses.”
“And do you have any evidence to show that you have any of these illnesses?”
“Yes. I have this textbook, Your Lord.”
“I see.”

It was what the Americans might call a slam dunk for the Boss. He just sat tight and didn’t say a word. The Judge clearly had the points and was going to do the work for him. Eventually, the Judge summarised Vexatious’ case far more articulately than Vexatious himself had been putting it and then said,
“Am I correct that that is your case?”
Somewhat dumbfounded, Vexatious said, “Yes, Your Lord.”

The Judge then turned to the Boss and said, “Well, it’s twelve thirty. Perhaps we can start again at two pm.”

After lunch everyone trekked back into court and the Judge said to the Boss,
“Do you have an application to make to me?”
“Yes, Your Honour. I would ask that the claim be dismissed at this stage as the Claimant has failed to prove his loss as a matter of evidence. In these circumstances there is no need to investigate the full factual dispute.”
“Thank you. Mr [Vexatious], do you have anything to say in response to this application?”
“This is an abuse. It is not why I came here today. I came to show the Council a bit of justice and just because they can afford some clever London barrister they think they can get away with murder.”
“Thank you Mr [Vexatious]. I shall now give my judgment on this application.”

He then went on to dismiss the case at half time and left costs to be assessed at a later date. Tragically for Vexatious these will now amount to over £25,000 for which he personally will be liable. A very sad case on all accounts.

Day 87 (week 18): Embarrassment

Less than two months to go until I get on my feet in court and I have to admit that I’m starting to feel a little nervous. In order to try and get an edge on the other pupils, I’ve hired a public speaking coach. It’s only £25 an hour over the telephone and I’ve had four so far. He basically gets me to recite Shakespeare and other poems and then makes me do breathing exercises during the day.

All very well in itself. But it backfired today when I was caught by the barrister I was following around at court doing one of these exercises. Thought there was no-one around in the robing room and so started reciting one of the more soppy of the Sonnets interspersed with deep breathing (ie moaning) in between each line. You can imagine my horror when the barrister emerged from the loo next door with a smirk that told me he had over-heard it all.

Day 86 (week 18): Time out

Time dominates everything about life in Chambers. From the day you enter you are labelled not by your ability but by the time. Branded with a date mark. Your year of call. As people rise in Chambers, their rent goes up in accordance with that year of call. So does their name on the board outside. Time also overshadows the work itself. The number of hours spent preparing a particular case will determine its brief fee, along with the number of hours it will take to travel to and from court in addition to the time in court itself.

Don’t know why I mention it save for the fact that today everyone seems to be chasing the clock in one form or another and I suddenly realised that that’s how it is each and every day of a barrister’s life.

Day 85 (week 18): An honourable profession

Dear old-fashioned, well-mannered, loveable OldRuin. Who couldn’t like him? He’s seen scandals come and go but has himself spent most of his life playing by the rules. Rules which are as much a part of him as the wove of his tweed. Yet he’s not the self-righteous sort and has a genuine sympathy for those that put themselves into difficulty, no matter how stupid they may have been. That is how he feels towards the Boss. Not quite the prodigal Son but even so, a wayward child in one form or another. So it all became clear when he took me out for lunch at Simpson’s on the Strand today. He counselled me that I must not take these difficulties to heart and that it was a great and honourable profession which I was entering. There would always be bad eggs but in his experience they generally came a cropper of their own making. Furthermore, they were far out-numbered by the honest, decent chaps (and chapesses, he added for good measure) who rarely came to anyone’s attention.

If he was my pupilmaster things may well have been different on all fronts.

But he isn’t.

And they’re not.

Day 84 (week 18): Losing it

The Boss was in early today and seemed almost chipper. Not sure if he’s been seeing BusyBody’s life coach but he was peculiarly positive about everything. Even starting lecturing me about how pupillage isn’t that bad, really. Think he’s losing the plot on many different levels.

Day 83 (week 18): Reprieve

Today was the extraordinary Chambers’ meeting. Quite a social gathering to say the least. All I saw were the comings and the goings. No pupils were allowed anywhere near. I’d thought about leaving my phone in there on record but thought better of it given the present circumstances. Instead, I went off to a particular bar which I knew was frequented by at least half a dozen members of Chambers and where I was therefore likely to pick up the outcome later on.

What surprised me was quite how long the meeting took. It wasn’t until eight o’clock that I saw the first crop of them arrive. I’d been hanging out with a friend who I’d briefed sufficiently to act as my wing man on this mission to gain valuable information. As it happened, it took very little effort at all. Turns out there had been drinks served during the meeting and the group which arrived seemed, to say the least, quite relaxed. One of them called my friend and I over to join them and we didn’t need any more encouragement. They were all very open about the outcome on the basis that I was bound to find out sooner or later.

It seems that the conclusion was that there were insufficient people in attendance to be able to suspend constitutionally and so whilst they had gone through the motions of having a debate on the issue (ie a good old fashioned gossip), they had then come to the conclusion that if there were insufficient people to pass the motion, it would be more seemly to withdraw it. A moral high ground could then be taken of innocent until proven guilty. The Boss therefore wasn’t called upon to explain himself and was left outside during the whole meeting. Which is kind of lucky as I’m not sure what explanation he would have come up with if he had been called.

So, the Boss can continue earning his top dollar for at least a few more months until the Standards Board hearing. In the meantime, he’d better start working on his defence.

In the meantime, I continue to be shackled to the Chambers’ pariah though in many ways I am finding this is helpful from the expressions of sympathy I have been receiving.

Day 82 (week 17): Telephone hearings

Today I watched a telephone hearing in action. They are quite seriously the biggest example of money for old rope that I have ever seen and having now been in pupillage for almost four months, that’s saying something. Actually that’s not quite true. Boss’ settlement practice was absurd. However, as well as verging on the edge of professional ethics, I also don’t think it was particularly representative. Telephone hearings on the other hand apply to everyone.

The point with these hearings is that you only get them when they are uncontroversial. Otherwise there’d be a full oral hearing. So, you’re starting from a pretty easy base. Then if anything at all challenging does arise in the middle (as is often the case), the Judge can only fudge the issue unless he wants to adjourn and bring all the parties to a full hearing. This almost never happens. Therefore, with everyone knowing the ground rules, they end up as the most cordial exchanges a hearing could ever have. Many’s the time when everything is agreed and the Judge simply goes through the motions of getting to grips with the case only to approve the draft Order which was already in front of him.

So it was today. The barrister in question was three year’s call and sat there first of all checking his email and then perhaps showing off for his audience, partaking in a game of online chess with a friend of his in another Chambers. This was occasionally interspersed with a “Yes, I agree,” to the Judge. Apparently, they don’t pay as well as trekking off to a hearing miles away but there again, the barrister is immediately back at his desk ready to bill out more hours.

Or, as I saw today, to carry on his very important game of online chess.

Day 81 (week 17): Other pupils

Worrier has perked up in the last few days. Apparently she’s been visiting a life coach who’s set her the challenge of turning it all around. Some challenge.

BusyBody on the other hand has not been busying anybody recently. So much so that I’m concerned. And that’s saying something. Suggested we had lunch today but I was politely but firmly rebuffed. I’ve had no vibes of suspicion. Simply those of abject defeat.

As for TopFirst, whatever he touches continues to turn to gold. It is somewhat perturbing to say the least. Poisoning remains my last resort.

I am joking. Honestly.

Day 80 (week 17): Multiple problems

The Boss came in today. Seems that I am the only one at this stage in whom he feels he can confide. Over lunch he told me that the reason his wife has asked for a divorce is because he has been having an affair with one of his solicitors who gives him quite a large proportion of his work. It’s got back to Chambers via her firm and it will only exacerbate his difficulties in the meeting on Monday. Undoubtedly the issue of conflict of interest will be raised. It seems that for many reasons the Boss was already unpopular with a large number of Chambers even before his present difficulties and he is not confident of being allowed to stay on.

His only hope lies in the Chambers constitution. In common with many Chambers, it is based upon the old-fashioned premise that once you’re in, you’re there for life unless you do something really, really bad. Of course this is never defined but in reality means that over 75% of Chambers has to vote in favour of suspension. Given that there are a number of members of Chambers who will not be in attendance, the reality is that there will need to be an almost unanimous vote in favour of allowing him to stay.

OldRuin has discreetly indicated that he is shooting all week and therefore unfortunately will be unable to attend.

Day 79 (week 17): Grumpy

Understandably the Boss has been out of Chambers this week so far. Today this left me to trundle off to yet another County Court which I shall not name so as not to identify the Judge about whom I shall now comment. Let’s call him Grumpy. The hearing was a contractual dispute worth about £20,000 and I was following a member of Chambers of five year’s call. All pretty clear really. Whether the building work on a property was done to standard or not. Couple of experts and two lay witnesses on either side. No technical points. A straight fight on the facts.

Or so you might think. From the start it seemed pretty clear that the District Judge didn’t want to hear the case. He started by telling the parties that around ten years ago he had used the particular building firm (which has branches in eight towns) for building a garden wall. He mentioned this to suggest that he had a conflict of interest and “perhaps both parties might think it best if another judge heard the case.” Both counsel went outside. It was clear from the lists that there would be no other judges available. Therefore although both Counsel readily agreed that the judge obviously wanted to get away, they weren’t prepared to accept an adjournment with such a lame excuse.

Back they went with their answer. The judge then pointed out that one of the expert’s reports and two of the witness statements had been served late (around a week for each). Both counsel immediately piped up that neither objected to this delay.
“Well, rules are rules, you know. I’m minded to adjourn this and to call the solicitors hear personally to explain their breach.”

“With respect, Sir,” came back the reply from the other side’s counsel. “We are here on a multi track trial. The parties, their lay witnesses, their legal representatives and both experts are all here for a fight. Today is probably costing the parties more than £10,000. To adjourn, Sir, would be contrary to the interests of justice.”

That would have been just the right submission. However, he continued with the following:
“In fact Sir, it is just the sort of case that if the Court of Appeal were to examine it, they would absolutely insist that it should have gone ahead today.”

Ouch. As he said these words you could almost see them leaving his mouth and at the same time he was trying to grasp for them. To take them back. Never said it. No. Never. Just your imagination. Except he just did.

“Are you threatening me?”
“No, Sir. Please, Sir, if that’s what you imagine I mean by those words, I retract them wholeheartedly.”
“Which bit do you retract? The threat?”
“Yes. No. I mean…”
“Mr [Blogs]. I have been in this game for a lot longer than I care to remember and I do not care to be lectured on what the Court of Appeal might or might not think of my local justice.”
“No, Sir.”
“I care even less for direct threats made at my office. If you want to appeal me. By all means. But never. I repeat, never. Threaten me. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Sir. I’m very…”
“Because if you threaten me, I will not only send you over to the cells at the magistrates court for contempt. I will also pass the case over the your brand new sparkling Standards Board.”
“Yes, Sir. Sorry, Sir.”
“Now. I am minded to adjourn this case unless I hear any objection to the contrary from either of you.”

Both Counsel bowed their heads in dismay. They both knew they should argue further but they both also knew that to do so would neither change the outcome nor do any further good.

Day 78 (week 17): Extraordinary meeting

Apparently an extraordinary Chambers meeting has been called to decide whether the Boss should be suspended from Chambers pending the Bar Standards hearing which could be several months. Whilst the normal course in these matters I am told is to assume innocence until proven guilty, it appears that this may be superceded by the fact that the allegation involves the Boss fiddling Chambers’ books and furthermore, the Boss is yet to come up with any defence, never mind an arguable one. It is to be held next Monday.

Day 77 (week 16): Bombshell

Today the Boss received a bombshell in the form of a letter from the Senior Partner of the firm of solicitors involved in the case of the accident on a ship in which limitation was missed. It stated that examination of Chambers’ hard disc by an expert showed that an amendment was made to the records at 7am on 4 November 2006. Specifically, an entry was added stating that the papers in the case had been sent back in July along with an advice and a fee note. This was contrary to the Boss’ account and suggested that the Boss had fraudulently doctored the records in order to avoid involvement in any professional negligence action. The letter stated that for these reasons the firm had no option but to make a formal complaint to the Bar Standards Board. Furthermore, if there was an action for professional negligence, the solicitors would be blaming the Boss and he was therefore advised to report this to his professional insurance body, the Bar Mutual Indemnity Fund.

It might be said that things are not looking good for the Boss.

Day 76 (week 16): Worrier again

Worrier has heard all the various stories and is having difficulty believing that BusyBody could do such a thing. She came to me today just mumbling that it simply doesn’t add up. Why on earth? I agreed with her, of course. People are strange creatures and life’s mysteries are not such that we can solve them all.

Day 75 (week 16): BusyBody convicted

I have now heard the full story and BusyBody appears to have been completely banged to rights. The Head of Chambers called her in at 9.30am and asked for an explanation. Obviously, she pleaded ignorance. This just made the Head of Chambers even more angry. He told her about the recording, the post on YouTube and the anonymous email he had received. She repeated her protestations. Again they didn’t wash. He told her that over the weekend he had had a high-ranking police friend of his do a search on the source of the uploading of the recording and of the anonymous email and both had been traced to an IP address for a particular internet café not far from Chambers at between 6.15 and 6.30pm last Thursday. On Monday, that same friend had asked a local police officer to visit the café and obtain copies of the security videos covering those times. He had then played the video, fast-forwarding to the time when BusyBody had entered the café and then to when she left. He also pointed out that there was no-one else from Chambers to be seen.

This had floored BusyBody. She was bright enough to see that she was well and truly scuppered. She continued to plead ignorance but it was clear to her this was getting nowhere. The Head of Chambers had then gone on to tell her that whilst the police had been involved it had been on an informal basis and he did not want them to press charges for the theft of the recording. Furthermore, whilst he considered this to be an extremely serious matter, it was one which he thought should be dealt with internally by Chambers. He had already made a threatening request to YouTube via his police friend and the recording had now been taken down. As for BusyBody, she simply needed to know at this stage that she could not have made a worse start to pupillage. Her pupil-master had been infirmed and in due course the tenancy committee would be given a summary of the events. At the very least, she would be well-advised to consider applying for third sixes in case she was not taken on at this set of Chambers.
All I could offer BusyBody was my sympathy.

Day 74 (week 16): BusyBody panics

BusyBody came to see me in a panic today. The Head of Chambers has asked to see her first thing in the morning. Apparently he said the following:
“I’m sure you know what this is about. What on earth you were thinking with YouTube I cannot imagine but you need to know that this is being taken extremely seriously.”

She had absolutely no idea what he was talking about and wondered if I could provide any insight. Obviously, I pleaded complete ignorance. Sounded like he had lost the plot, was all I could offer.

Day 73 (week 16): Worrier confesses

Went for coffee with Worrier this morning. She told me that the Head of Chambers had come to see her on Friday and accused her of taping the conversation he had with her. She of course broke down immediately and told him everything. Given that there is nothing more sincere than Worrier under pressure (she’ll be a dreadful barrister) it must have been clear to the Head of Chambers that she was also telling the truth when she denied putting the recording on YouTube. The inevitable question after that was who had had access to the tape? The only person as far as Worrier knew was BusyBody, to whom she had lent the tape last Monday.

With forty years of seeking justice and defending the rights of the innocent, the Head of Chambers put two and two together and came up with BusyBody as the only possible culprit. After all, it couldn’t possibly be any of the tenants. They were as good as family. And if BusyBody was the only one of the pupils with access, then it was obviously her. This was particularly so given their little incident in Chambers tea a while back.

Day 72 (week 15): Unappealable

Getting tired of trundling off to small claims now without being able to get my teeth into any myself. Today was a classic example of an eccentric judge coming to an even more eccentric result simply because he didn’t like my barrister’s opponent. This is another difficulty with the small claims. Unlike any other judge in the land, those in the Small Claims Court are almost unappealable. Whilst the highest court in the land, the House of Lords can still be appealed to the European Court of Human Rights, the court for the very smallest claims is almost as a matter of fact unappealable. This is because it is extremely hard to succeed in any appeal from this court and furthermore the size of the claim almost guarantees that an appeal will not happen. Judges are fully aware of this and therefore often just ignore barristers who try to put points of law to them.

Whatever the law is in the rest of the land, it is clear that it does not beat the whim of a district judge in the Small Claims Court.

Day 71 (week 15): The set-up

A fact that I had found out from BusyBody during the Christmas break was that she had no access to her emails at home and therefore most evenings after work she spent twenty minutes in a nearby internet café doing her personal emails (something which is disapproved of by Chambers on their time). It’s a pretty big place and although a slightly risky strategy, I got changed after work into a so-called ‘hoody’ and jeans and went off there. Sure enough, BusyBody was beavering away in the corner.

I duly uploaded the recording of the Head of Chambers onto YouTube. I did not state what it was and am confident that no-one would stumble on it accidentally as there are no search words to bring it up (so there is no point looking). I then set up a fake hotmail account and emailed the Head of Chambers the link putting various cats among various pigeons.

If any of it ever gets traced back to this internet café, the video footage should show very clearly that the only person related to Chambers who was in here was BusyBody. My hood kept me well and truly anonymous.

Day 70 (week 15): Steps of High Court

Old Ruin was in this morning. All dressed up in his best tweed suit. Hair unusually combed down and almost looking coy. Like a schoolboy who had prematurely aged fifty years. It seems that it would have been his wedding anniversary today. He was married in Temple Church and he proposed exactly a year earlier on bended knee on the steps of the High Court. Some thirty-five years later, his wife contracted cancer. When she was told that it was terminal, she told him that wherever she was taken in the afterlife (something in which they both believed), she would always ensure that at midday on their wedding anniversary she would be sitting on the steps of the High Court in exactly the same place that the two of them had sat after their engagement. Therefore just in case she was not able to track where he was, they could always ensure they would be together on that particular day.

It was 11am and OldRuin was ready for his love.

Day 69 (week 15): My recording

This evening after work I visited Worrier’s room which was empty. Found the tape in the recorder which had duly been returned by BusyBody. With the help of my trusty mobile phone I made my own recording of the conversation.

Day 68 (week 15): The recording

BusyBody came over for a chat in the library this afternoon. She told me that she’d asked Worrier if she could listen to the tape. Worrier had dug it out of her desk and lent her the tape and the recorder during the afternoon. BusyBody said that she had it in her bag and wondered if I wanted to hear it again. I said that I was in a rush but would be very interested to hear what she thought about it later.

The most interesting piece of information from that conversation was that Worrier kept the tape in her desk.

Day 67 (week 14): Small claims

Off to the Small Claims Court again today as further preparation for April. With a barrister who has been a tenant for just over a year. It seems that most tenants are resigned to doing a lot of small claims in their first two or three years. Having watched a few now it seems to me to be a bit of a free for all jurisdiction in terms of what goes on. No-one swears an oath. Often the Judge simply takes the evidence by asking the questions himself and if any documents or other evidence comes in late, the judge just sighs and goes through the motions of complaining that they should have been there earlier before allowing it in anyway. The phrase “ the strict rules of evidence don’t apply” seems to be used every five minutes and you have to question whether there are any rules of evidence which apply at all.

Palm tree justice at its very best.

Day 66 (week 14): Real clients

We had our first Chambers training session today in preparation for our first days in court come 1 April. Slightly nerve-wracking thinking that I’ll actually be representing people after that date. My own clients with absolute responsibility for how their case is presented to the court. I don’t think clients realise that for many cases they are simply practice fodder for baby barristers. Not sure they’d exactly consent to this if solicitors were to tell them.

Day 65 (week 14): Mold

Today I had what might be classed as a thankless task. I was sent to visit a solicitors’ firm in Mold on behalf of the Boss in order to go makes notes on various documents and to decide what needed copying for him. Now that might sound harmless enough were it not for the fact that Mold is in North Wales and the only way of getting there was London is by a very complicated train route that meant that I was up well before the crack of dawn and arrived home around 11pm.

This was made even worse by the grottiness of the town. Now, it was a long while back that I learnt the word onomatopoeia where the word sounds like its meaning. ‘Splash’ would be a good example. Mold is another example. Though I have never been there, I imagine Grimsby comes into the same category. Brief respite only came from the town’s wit who had scrawled on a number of signs the letter ‘y’ after each mention of Mold. Hence, ‘Moldy Industrial Estate’, ‘Moldy Social Club’ etc.

The only consolation was the friendliness of the locals. Almost as if they were overcompensating for the otherwise inhospitable surroundings. However, it mitigated only slightly what was otherwise a miserable today. Particularly as I had to pick up the tab for the train fare.

Day 64 (week 14): Divorce

The Boss was in work today even though he wasn’t due back until Monday. Seems his wife kicked him off the holiday. Wants a divorce. More importantly for the Boss she wants half the assets and maintenance for her and their ten year old son. This was all I managed to pick up. I can only speculate that he has been having an affair. So BusyBody, it seems, was never in the picture in the first place. Whatever the reason he’s back at work earning the cash in fear of the amount with which he will now have to part.

Day 63 (week 13): The tape

True to the spirit of any disinformation campaign, today I actually told BusyBody something that was not only true but also highly unlikely. Not only will this bolster my other claims when she realises its truth but it will also serve its primary purpose of completely winding her up. Simply told her what the Head of Chambers had said to Worrier about her sex discrimination claim.

I also told her that Worrier had taped the conversation just to really get her going.

Day 62 (week 13): …and another

I asked BusyBody what she thought of the Boss today. In fact I went so far as to whisper that he’s told me in a drunken moment and in the strictest of confidence that he quite fancied her.

Not true.

Day 61 (week 13): Another bluff

Chambers was eerily quiet today. Two clerks were in and probably about three barristers in addition to myself and of course, who could ever forget, BusyBody. We went out for lunch in festive spirit and I have to admit that when she’s not trying to organise everybody, she’s actually quite nice. Maybe she should just calm down a bit and stop marching round chambers like she owns it. Wasn’t going to suggest anything like that though. The more she busies around everyone the better as far as I’m concerned. In fact I told her that I’d applied to be on two Chambers committees just to try and encourage her to do the same.

Of course, I haven’t really applied to anything of the sort.

Day 60 (week 12): Holidays for some

Everyone is packing up today. Almost all of Chambers will be away over the Christmas period including two of the pupils. Annoyingly, TopFirst has managed to scrape a week away and still enhance his reputation since he is to be best man at the wedding of a friend of his who just happens to be the son of a judge. Worrier decided to take a week off after she found out about her complaint being dismissed. Nothing to lose any more for her, I guess.

Day 59 (week 12): Boss away

The Boss has now gone off on his expensive holiday in Barbados. “Should keep Her Indoors happy” he said as whisked out of Chambers this morning. He’s away now until 8 January. You might think that meant Pupil freedom but sadly this has turned out not to be the case. Not only has he left me about 20 sets of papers to plough through but he has also asked another barrister to check that I “have enough to do”. So much for Christmas spirit extending to pupils.

Day 58 (week 12): Complaint dismissed

Worrier came to see me today and asked if I had time for a drink after work. Of course I did.

It seems that her complaint was dismissed. Quelle surprise!

One pupil down, two to go.

Day 57 (week 12): Hard discs

The Boss received a letter today from the solicitors in the case involving the accident on the ship. If you remember he had forged Chambers’ records to show that he had sent the papers back before the limitation period came to an end so that he could get out of any blame for not ensuring that the case was issued in time. The letter sought formal pre-action disclosure of Chambers records. It also sought access to Chambers’ hard disc.

The Head Clerk came in for a chat and said that given that we had nothing to hide, there was no reason why we would oppose this. The Boss was in an impossible position and was forced to agree. It sent him into somewhat of a panic, though. He made a couple of calls made to an IT friend of his as to whether a computer expert would be able to find out that the records had been changed retrospectively. The answer was that it was unclear. It depended upon the exact computer system and most importantly upon how thorough the tests were on the hard drive.

Whilst it left the Boss uneasy, I was in no doubt. The computer expert would find the fraud. I was naive even to have been a passive accomplice. However, on balance I decided that the Boss would not mention the fact that I knew about it. Involving one’s pupil in a potentially criminal act would only exacerbate his already precarious position.

I will therefore sit tight.

Day 56 (week 12): Chambers’ gossip

Inevitably there was going to be some scandal after Thursday’s party. However, as far as I know, it didn’t involve the Boss and BusyBody. Instead, two members of Chambers who are about fifteen and five years’ call (ie post-qualification) respectively came out publicly as a couple. Not in itself a big deal you might think. However, when you bear in mind the fact that the woman of five years’ call also happens to be the Head of Chambers’ daughter and the man of fifteen years’ call is married to one of the administrators then things get a little trickier. Talk about incestuous.

Day 55 (week 11): Vexatious litigants

Thankfully not too much of a sore head this morning as I left strategically when they all starting moving off for dinner. Old Ruin was in this morning regaling about Chambers parties passed. Many’s the scandal that has been revealed on such occasions. Still awaiting on the gossip from last night unfortunately.

I told him about our case on Wednesday with the litigant-in-person which raised a smile. He started telling me about the more specialised issue of vexatious litigants. Apparently when litigants-in-person get particularly bad the government eventually, through the office of the Attorney-General takes that person to court and gets an order styling them a vexatious litigant. What this means is that after that they can only bring an action with the permission of a judge. This is so that the judge can cut off any frivolous or vexatious claims before they even get started. Pretty hard to get to this stage though. Our man on Wednesday is not even near. He’d have to be suing perhaps the judge, the barrister, maybe even the pupil, the solicitors and say a dozen members of the council before it would even be considered.

Don’t like the sound of that.

Day 54 (week 11): Chambers’ party

Just got back from the Chambers’ drinks party. The annual knees up for members of Chambers to entertain the clerks and administrators (of which in total there are ten people). I was there simply to serve the drinks as were the other three pupils. The most interesting thing about the evening was seeing what each of the spouses were like. Also seeing which of the spouses did not turn up. Notable in this respect was Mrs Boss who, I was told, had a cold.

It was held in Chambers’ large meeting room and for two hours there was free flowing champagne and canapés provided courtesy of Marks and Spencer this afternoon. For just a short space of time it was almost as if everyone forgot their petty differences, of which I have already discovered, there are many. However, a few glasses later and the cliques started to re-form into the corners of the room, with each deciding on a different destination for food. I don’t know what it is. Maybe it’s that everyone is self-employed and just a bit more independent than average. Maybe it’s the fact that they are outspoken for a living. Maybe it’s the same everywhere. Whatever the reason, by all accounts I have heard so far, barristers’ chambers are rife with gossip, intrigue and clashes of rather larger than life personalities.

The Boss spent quite some time talking to BusyBody about how she was enjoying pupillage as she quietly sipped away on the champagne in between rounds of serving. As for TopFirst, predictably he wasn’t drinking. Says he’s on a detox. More like a de-life. There seems to be no chink in his armour at all. Worrier is almost finished and BusyBody is likely to annoy just about everyone except the Boss. However, TopFirst is going to be more of a problem and may need a little more thought.

Day 53 (week 11): Litigant-in-person

Today the Boss had an interlocutory hearing, a small ten minute affair where the court makes directions as to how the case should proceed. Well, that’s how long it should have taken were it not for the litigant-in-person on the other side. This is the polite name for someone who is not legally represented. Occasionally this can be for the very best of reasons such as lack of funds. More usually it’s because the litigant has either been unable to get a firm to represent him or because he has parted company with them. This might be due, for example, to him sacking them or because solicitors get sick of the trouble he is causing or perhaps stumble on a difficulty which until then he has successfully hidden from them. Whatever it is, by and large litigants-in-person are trouble. Or so the Boss explained to me in some detail before going off on this case.

For once, he was proved right. From our arrival at Bromley County Court, it was clear that the litigant was bristling for a fight. The Boss had had some experience of such litigants and told me that it was wise to say as little as possible to them beforehand. Otherwise, he said, you risk finding whatever you said being twisted into a professional conduct complaint. He said this with such conviction that it made me wonder whether he was speaking from personal experience. The litigant also smelt slightly of alcohol which for eleven in the morning did not bode well. So, after brief unpleasantries between the litigant and the Boss, we all marched into court.

The dispute was a simple one. The litigant accused his local council of ‘harrassment’. The council, represented by the Boss, denied the allegations. In addition, they said that in any event even if what he said were true, it did not amount to a cause of action which would result in damages. The file of papers was massive and packed full of handwritten letters from the litigant himself. Lots of capital letters, underlinings and exclamation marks as if he felt that the world would not listen to him unless he made more of an effort. His written ramblings were at times incoherent and this was reflected in the submissions he gave to the judge. It was clear from the start that the judge had the measure of this case and was simply going through the motions for the benefit of the tape. He was well aware that this sort of litigant was exactly the sort of person to take what he said straight to the Court of Appeal. He therefore listened carefully to the litigant’s submissions for one and a half hours. He then looked at the Boss and having told him that he did not need to hear from him, refused the litigant’s request to put off the case for six months whilst he gathered more evidence. Instead, the trial was listed for February.

The sad thing is that the whole thing appears to have started with a genuine grievance. The council sent him a letter claiming that he had not paid his council tax. This was sent to him in error and was meant for someone with the same surname further down his street. It took several letters from the litigant before the council accepted this. In the meantime, he had got it into his head that he should be compensated for the stress that he had suffered in dealing with this. The problem at this stage of the case was that the council had now racked up over £20,000 in legal fees defending it and so the litigant had dug himself into a hole. Even if he gave up now, he would never be able to pay such a bill and therefore he almost had nothing more to lose as it were by fighting on.

And so it was that another story of human misfortune triggered a legal case which would eventually find its way onto the Boss’ desk and contribute to the lifestyle to which he had by now become accustomed.

Day 52 (week 11): ‘Research’

BusyBody was back again today. I’m not even sure if she’s started flirting back. Stayed about an hour doing more ‘research’ at OldRuin’s desk. I gave the Boss fifteen minutes before he mentioned the Ferrari. He did it in ten.

Day 51 (week 11): Small Claims Court

Went to watch a small claims case today in Willesden County Court. Not exactly the most salubrious of surroundings but the court was even worse. All the cases for the whole day had been listed at 10.30am on the basis I assume that a lot of people simply weren’t going to turn up. This may well be convenient to the judges but it meant that it was mayhem in the waiting room with barristers all clamouring to get in (and therefore out) first. The usher had clearly heard it all before with promises of “We’ll only be five minutes” and “It’s all been agreed” being met with raised eyebrows and a rye smile.

The number of barristers crowded into this small place was to say the least unpleasant. This was made even worse by nervous litigants all standing around in the same area. Opposing sides staring each other down. Inevitably this led to some small outbreaks of trouble and the guards had to eject at least two of the parties for disorderly conduct.

My barrister was about half way down the list and our case didn’t get on until after lunch (quite a good greasy fry on the road back to the station). Tiny case, more a squabble than an argument. What the judge called (thinking himself a wit) “A classic county court action between two stationary cars”. He was right though. Barristers on either side each only getting around £100 each which after their train fares and their contributions to Chambers’ rent probably left them with around £60 for a whole day in Willesden.

My barrister won almost just by shouting louder than his opponent. I was surprised that the District Judge allowed him to get away with it, but there you go.

Day 50 (week 10): The complaint

Worrier put in her complaint yesterday. News of it reached me by mid-afternoon. Once again, whilst I was supposedly making the coffee, I overheard one of the more senior barristers in Chambers telling the Boss about it. Specifically heard the word “foolhardy” and later, “Well, on her own head be it.”

A good start to the weekend.

Day 49 (week 10): Solicitor party

Tonight was the first in a series of Christmas parties. This one was held by a firm of solicitors who give a lot of work to Chambers. I had been invited along by the Boss in the afternoon as he was feeling in a generous mood having made another of his last minute settlements (brief fee for tomorrow’s now defunct hearing: £4,000).

If the relationship between senior clerk and barrister is a complicated one, that between solicitor and barrister is simple. Barristers are self-employed and in a highly competitive market. Solicitors do the hiring. Barristers are desperate for the work. Solicitors have it to give out. Solicitors dangle their work in front of the barristers just as you might dangle a ball of wool in front of a kitten. In the same way, they may just as easily take it away at the last moment. Just for fun. To watch the barrister chase. Bring him down a peg or two. Then, when all his pride is lost, he is rewarded with one of the cases.

Now I accept that this may not always be the case but it certainly seemed like that tonight, watching the way the barristers fawned over the solicitors at the drinks party. It’s a game. The barristers know that but they can’t seem to control their professional paranoia. The fear that one day, no matter how successful they are now, it might all disappear. The cases might stop. That they’ll be left with nothing. Stuck in trheir ivory tower with nowhere left to escape.

Day 48 (week 10): Over the edge

Today Worrier wanted a final chat before embarking on any course of action in relation to her sex discrimination allegations. Over lunch she explained that she had thought very carefully about what I had said and was in agreement that the best place to pursue it was through Chambers. However, she was concerned that if she presented it to the Head of Chambers she might not get a fair hearing.

I had known full well all along that to make such a complaint would be professional suicide and now I had her standing on the edge of the cliff asking me whether she should jump. Asking her competition. One of the three other contenders for the prize of tenancy at the end of the year. Should she jump? Of course she should as far as I was concerned. However, just to make sure, I pushed her by reminding her again that if she did nothing now, it could later be held against her if things got any worse. This was indeed a winning argument and over the edge she went.

The only question then was to whom she should make the complaint.

I suggested she start with her pupilmaster.

Day 47 (week 10): The Senior Clerk

It’s a very strange relationship that of barrister and Senior Clerk. On the face of it, the barrister pays rent to Chambers and Chambers employ the Clerks so strictly the barrister is the employer. However, you’d never guess it to watch the Boss and his Senior Clerk in action. For all the Boss’ arrogance and pomposity, he is humility itself when the Senior Clerk walks through the door. This was particularly apparent when the Boss had another visit this afternoon. Apparently the number of barristers hit has now risen to five plus the Boss. The Senior Clerk asked him what he planned to do about it, if anything.

The Boss said that he had considered ignoring his duty of confidentiality to his solicitor client and anonymously leaking the information to his lay client. However, if he did this it was highly likely that eventually his own misconduct in the conference would come to light and therefore on balance he had decided that he would do nothing. For once, the spineless option was probably the right one in all the circumstances. The Senior Clerk commented that realistically it was unlikely that something like this would stay quiet forever. However, he obviously didn’t want to interfere in professional conduct issues and therefore left it at that.

Day 46 (week 10): Clerk network

The Senior Clerk wanted a word with the Boss this morning. He’d been ringing around the Clerk network and it seems that the solicitor from last week who is taking a share of his client’s money has pulled the same stunt on at least three other occasions with barristers in three other Chambers. All have faced the same professional conduct difficulties.

The Senior Clerk said he’d keep him posted as to any other developments and in the meantime the Boss should decide what he was going to do.

Day 45 (week 9): Cringe

Today the Boss announced that he’d just bought himself a Ferrari,
“Got a lot of grief from the trouble and strife, you know over this one. But, hey, I’m worth it.”

Hey, you’re not.

Cringeworthy, sickly mid-life crisis at its worst.

Day 44 (week 9): Off the case

The Boss received a call from the Head Clerk this morning telling him that he’d been taken off the case which he had had the conference on yesterday.

The Boss is starting to get a little jittery. He rang the Bar Council anonymously this morning to look into his professional position. It seems that he should probably have considered withdrawing from the case at the moment he heard that such an arrangement was in place. At the very least he should have stopped the conference so that he could consider his position further before continuing. By not doing so he has left the client with the impression that the arrangement is perfectly legal.

The person at the Bar Council went even further than this though and suggested that the Boss himself may have been the victim of a wider scam perpetrated by the solicitor. By contriving the situation the Boss found himself in the solicitor took a calculated risk that the Boss would at worst say nothing, leaving the solicitor with implicit approval for his scheme from an eminent barrister.

I almost felt a little sorry for the Boss. He was truly between a rock and a hard place at this stage. Not to say anything to the client would leave him with the wrong impression. It would also leave the Boss implicated in the deception as well as leaving him open to a complaint in the future. However, to say anything whatsoever to the client would mean that he had contravened his duty to his solicitor client and expose the conflict of interest. Furthermore, his duty of confidentiality to his solicitor forbade him from putting in any sort of complaint or raising an investigation.

As far as he could see, all he could do was to sit tight and hope the client didn’t spot it. Then at least he’d be alright even if the client was then over £165,000 down.

Sometimes professional rules can have strange consequences.

Day 43 (week 9): One third of the damages

Today I watched the Boss stumble into and around a conflict of interest. We were sat in a conference in Chambers with the solicitor and client. The client was claiming around half a million pounds following a lifting accident at work. The client asked the Boss how much he would get in his pocket if the case settled for half a million. There was an awkward pause by the Boss as he exchanged glances with the solicitor. The solicitor then piped up with the following:
“Well, as you know, we have a contingency agreement that we will be paid one third of your damages so you will get to keep two thirds which would be just over three hundred and thirty thousand pounds.”

I almost jumped out of my seat. Even pupils know that taking a share of the damages are illegal in cases such as this. Furthermore, the solicitor would be getting his usual costs paid by the other side as well. A fast one was well and truly being pulled and I wondered whether this was because the solicitor assumed that this client was unlikely to understand this due to his lack of formal education. Even the Boss looked a little uneasy and simply commented that any costs arrangements were between the client and his solicitor and all the Boss could do was to advise as to what the client would get before that point.

At the end of the conference when the client had gone and I was supposedly making coffee for the Boss and his solicitor, I overheard the following conversation:
“You do know that contingency fees are illegal?”
“No.”
“Well they are. I also think that puts me in a difficult position. If the case goes any further, I would be bound to advise the client of this fact. Indeed, many people might say that I perhaps should have advised the client of that today or at the very least to have withdrawn from the case on the basis of a conflict of interest at that stage. So, either you’ll have to change the agreement or I will have to withdraw.”
“OK. Thanks for telling me. I’ll look into it.”

Day 42 (week 9): Wigs and gowns

Today the Boss and I went off to the High Court to get the stamp of approval on a consent order following a settlement. Given that it was a final hearing, we both had to put on the wig and gown which, for me, was the first time that I had done this in court. I have to admit some to some degree of satisfaction as I straightened the wig and checked it all in the mirror. However, I couldn’t help reflecting how absurd the whole thing was. It simply acted as a symbol of how completely out of touch much of the legal world and in particular the Bar was with modern society. They may have been the height of fashion in Charles II’s time. They may also have helped keep the nits and other bugs away in the nineteenth century. But these days they only perpetuated an image of the Bar as being left in the past.

Still, for today I liked it.

Day 41 (week 9): The tape

Had lunch with Worrier today. She had had her morning meeting with the Head of Chambers and she had also made a recording although I didn’t get to hear it. Needless to say, he had discouraged her from making any formal complaint, even to him. He was sure it was something which could be sorted out informally with a word in the right ear. Two choice quotes which Worrier told me about were the following (as near as I can remember):

“I can assure you that I say this with the very best of intent for your career. Be very careful where you take this. A woman can get a name for herself for causing trouble which it becomes impossible to lose in such a small world.”

“I’m afraid Dear, you’re going to have to get used to the rough and tumble of the Bar. It’s only going to get worse once you’re in court and throwing insults at each other across a courtroom. To survive in this job, you have to be tough. I’m sure [the barrister she was complaining about] was only trying to help you.”

I agreed with Worrier that his reaction perhaps wasn’t surprising given the talk he’d given us at the start of the year. However, it was extraordinary given the nature of the complaint she was making. The choices were either to make a formal complaint to Chambers or alternatively to take it straight to the Bar Council and include the Head of Chambers. I suggested she should not over-step the mark and that perhaps it was wise simply to formalise her complaint with Chambers. She said she would think about it.

Day 40 (week 8): Showdown

The Boss was in a storm today. The Senior Clerk had been to see him. Seems the Senior Partner of the firm of solicitors who were doing the accident on a ship had been in touch. Was very concerned that the Boss’ advice hadn’t been received. Wanted to know every detail as to when it was sent out. The Senior Clerk was equally concerned although he couldn’t put his finger on it as there was no way of knowing that the records had been doctored. He was therefore left having to question the Boss straight out as to what had happened. The Boss was brazen in his lies it seems. Judgment, though, is reserved and this has left him more than a little tetchy to be around.

Day 39 (week 8): Raised eyebrows

Got an email from Worrier this morning. Apparently she has an appointment with the Head of Chambers for Monday morning. Should set the cat among the pigeons.

In the meantime, the Boss is definitely now flirting with BusyBody. Even OldRuin raised his eyebrows at me when the Boss made some comment to her today about what he’d heard about the work she was doing.

Day 38 (week 8): Sex discrimination?

Worrier came to visit today. Asked if I was free for lunch. Naturally, the Boss obliged and off we went to Chancery Lane. She wanted my advice. It seems that a particular member of Chambers has been picking on her. It started with him asking her to do a piece of work. When she returned it, he was highly critical and then asked for it to be done again. On returning the papers for a second time, he was even more critical. The conversation went along the following lines:
“When solicitors ask for your advice, they’re not asking for ifs and buts. They want an answer. Do you understand that?”
“Yes.”
“Have you always had problems being indecisive? Is it just in your nature?”
“No. Well, maybe.”
“How are you going to cope with court? You can’t afford to dither, you know.”
“I know.”
“Maybe it’s just a girl thing and I’m not quite getting it. Is that it perhaps?”
“Er, I don’t know.”

Anyway, she thinks she’s been discriminated against sexually and wanted to know what I thought.

Now, it seemed to me that he could certainly have phrased his comments more diplomatically but if you met Worrier, you’d know that he had a point although it certainly isn’t a girl thing. However, here was an opportunity I wasn’t going to pass up to damage a fellow pupil, potentially fatally. So, I told her I was quite shocked to hear that such things went on at all. Further, she should definitely not let it lie. To do so could in fact be counter-productive as the bullying may only get worse and if it did and she had failed to respond early on, her whole account might come into question.

It was clear that this was not what Worrier wanted to hear. In fact, all she wanted was a little reassurance. However, she’d come to the wrong person for that and by the time I was finished she was ready to complain to the Bar Council. I suggested that perhaps she might instead start with the Head of Chambers to show that she was not unduly escalating matters.

She thanked me so very much for all my help.

My pleasure indeed.

Day 37 (week 8): Tedium

Spent a whole day drafting a schedule of damages for the Boss. I have discount rates and multipliers coming out of my ears and I can honestly say that it has utterly bored me stupid. The worst thing is that the more successful you get it seems in personal injury, the more schedules you get to do. Seems a bit topsy turvey to me. Can’t imagine why anyone would strive to do more of these things.

Day 36 (week 8): Chambers’ tea

Since I have not yet described Chambers’ tea, let me now do so. It happens every afternoon at 4.30pm on the dot. Despite the fact that we are now all on email, each member of Chambers is called by the Clerks and told that tea is being served. Probably about fifteen people turn up each afternoon and it is always quite an occasion.

As a pupil, the lesson I learned very early on was not to speak unless spoken to and even then to keep it as brief as possible. You’ve basically got a room full of egos sitting around on their own personal highs, usually after a day in court. Lets them wind down before getting back to their families. Lots of victories to report and anecdotes to regale and if anyone at all interrupts them, never mind a pupil, then woe betide. This means that after a day of jousting they are all overly polite towards each other. Lots of “No, after you”s floating around add to a very peculiar mix.

Today, BusyBody learned the same lesson the hard way. She accidentally interrupted the Head of Chambers whilst he was lamenting times past. He obviously gave her the floor, ready for an immediate put down. All she was wanting to do was to mention the case she had been on that morning and how interesting she had found it.

After an awkward silence from everyone at the end of her little whimpering monologue, the Head of Chambers then said:“And that is why, Pupils should always be seen and not heard.”

Day 35 (week 7): Client conference

Had a conference with a client today. Contrary to the usual practice of clients coming to Chambers, the Boss and I trekked off to his home in Stratford as he is in a wheelchair. In fact, he’s pretty much unable to do most things and it was very sad. For once, I was proud of the Boss. I think even he was humbled by the client’s dignity in the face of extreme suffering.

The client had fallen from about twenty feet on a building site and his employers were being sued for failing to provide safety rails. It should be a pretty clear cut case but the insurers are inevitably saying it was partly his fault. Common sense and all that. It’s an expensive case. The client was 40 years old at the time of the accident earning some £25,000 a year. Not only is he losing earnings to age 65 but he will also need full time care for the rest of his life. Apparently there are technical arguments which we will be facing on this part of the claim. Anyway, suffice it to say that potentially it’s a multi-million pound claim.

This is a legal expenses case which means that the Boss will get paid win or lose. Hopefully this might bolster the Boss’ resolve. On the journey back, he did lament the fact that we could not work for a percentage of the damages as they do in the States.

Day 34 (week 7): Merry-go-round

Started learning about the personal injury industry today from the Boss. It seems that the food chain starts with the accident management companies chasing the client for the case. The solicitors then chase the accident management companies to pass it on. The junior barristers then chase the solicitors and then if its big enough the QCs chase the junior barristers.

An extremely expensive merry-go-round with the client in the middle not knowing where to turn.

Day 33 (week 7): Over-slept

Slept in this morning. Woke up in a panic at 9am with a sore head. Had been out until 2am the night before. Big mistake. It would be one and a half hours into Chambers and there was nothing I could do. Did I ring up and say I was ill? Or did I just tell the plain old truth?

Neither of these were going to take me very far and so I decided on a slightly bolder strategy. Phoned up the Boss and said that I was at Uxbridge County Court, taking a gamble that no-one was in the court today. Said I thought I was meant to be meeting [Blog] barrister there having had a note in my pigeon-hole about it on Friday. He said he´d ask the Clerks. Got a return phone call from one of the Clerks about five minutes later. He was clearly in a rush. Luckily Monday morning is pretty hectic and the last thing the wanted to be doing is holding an investigation into why I had ended up in Uxbridge. The clerk therefore simply apologised and suggested that I make my way back into Chambers.

Got in eventually around 1pm. Went off for lunch. Then left Chambers at 5pm. The Boss has been teaching me well.

Day 32 (week 7): Coroner´s Court

Had a Coroner’s hearing today. Very strange jurisdiction. A public investigation into an unusual death but with no real powers to do anything or generally to find anything of any great significance. Seems an expensive waste of time to me. Either way, this was one that not even the Boss could settle. He said beforehand,
“A successful hearing is one in which you say virtually nothing.”

And so he proved. His client was a lorry driver who had killed a motorcyclist. The only advice he gave beforehand was not to answer any questions about the accident in case he incriminated himself. The Coroner, a qualified doctor, asked all the questions and when it came to that part, he looked at the Boss and said,
“Will he be answering any further?”
The Boss shook his head.

That was the extent of his work in the Coroner’s Court. Verdict: accidental death. Back in Chambers by 3pm. Brief fee: £2,000.

Day 31 (week 7): Pomposity

Today I lost one of my friends and fellow pupils to the Bar. Met up for lunch and went to shake his hand and he corrected me.
“Barristers don’t shake hands with each other.”

You don´t say. We´d all had that pointed out on the first day of pupillage but I´d noted that it was a custom often not followed, particularly by members of the Junior Bar. Still don´t know the reason why it even exists. Perhaps it´s that they´re instruments of justice and therefore don´t partake in human courtesies. Perhaps it´s that they don´t need to shake hands as they all trust each other even without this little gesture. Really no idea save that it seems extremely pompous, particularly when the other person doesn´t reciprocate your extended hand. Happened to me with a senior barrister in Chambers and it made me feel very small indeed. Suffice it to say, that I wasn´t impressed by my friend.

"It doesn´t apply with friends, though.” I replied.
“No, it’s all of us. Same with MPs.”

It was true that MPs had the same custom but I didn´t see this as a reason for following it.

Next thing he’ll be addressing me as his learned friend across the lunch table.

Day 30 (week 6): Real barrister

Went off to court with a real barrister today. Not one like the Boss but one who actually enjoys having a fight. Who listens to his client and even has the odd professional standard up his sleeve. Straightforward personal injury trial in Wandsworth County Court. My barrister’s client tripped on a broken paving stone. Sued the council for not having mended it. It all turned on whether the council had done enough checks. The barrister on the other side made an offer at the start of the day and despite the fact my barrister was on no-win, no-fee and the offer wasn;t even that bad, he advised his client to reject the offer and to fight. He did and they eventually won. I was all up for celebrating but my barrister was professional to the end and simply went straight back to Chambers and started preparing his case for the next day.

In the meantime, the Boss set me a Skeleton Argument to do over the weekend. Trial on Monday and it should have been done by last Tuesday. True to form, he only looked at the papers this afternoon and given that he’s playing golf tomorrow there’s no chance of him getting into the case until Sunday. I therefore have to email over the Skeleton and any notes by Sunday morning at the latest.

Day 29 (week 6): Flirt

Pretty much back to normal now. The Boss is his old arrogant self and I’m making coffees and photocopying like nobody’s business. BusyBody’s been at her worst today. Sniffing around our room under the auspices of research. Supposedly using the law reports stored in the room. The Boss said she could use Old Ruin’s desk for these purposes. It’s clear she’s checking out what’s up.

Worst of all though was that the Boss seemed to be flirting with her.

Day 28 (week 6): Calm

I have to admit that to some extent I’ve been taking advantage of the Boss’ recent little difficulty though I’m having to watch that I’m not seen as taking the mickey. However, two hours for lunch and leaving at 5pm doesn’t seem unreasonable in the circumstances.

Day 27 (week 6): Sorted

Today the Boss has been dealing with the fallout from his plan. Well, to put it more accurately, dealing with the lack of fallout. As planned, he amended the entries on the system. Couldn’t have been easier apparently. It wasn’t designed to protect against corrupt barristers and so it was very easy to amend the records without any trace. The junior clerk then made the call yesterday. This morning, his call was returned from the solicitors and they were then put through to the Boss. I sat in during the call and heard the Boss’ side.
“I was just wondering how the case was getting on.”
“Oh. Didn’t you get my advice?”
“Oh. That’s strange. It was sent back in July. I can dig out a copy for you and fax it over after this call.”
“No. Not at all. It would be my pleasure. Very strange. Must have been a problem with the post.”
“Oh, by the way, I assume you’ve issued by now?”
“What? Oh, no. Oh, no. Did you not realise that limitation for cases involving ships is two years. I did mention it in my advice but to be honest, I thought you’d know that anyway.”
“Hmm. I don’t know what you can do at this stage. It’s pretty serious. I’d certainly suggest that you report this to your professional indemnity insurers and seek their guidance before doing anything further.”
“No, no. I’m sure it must have been the postage. I wouldn’t want you to start blaming your internal post.”
“Oh. It’s my pleasure. If I can help you further with this, please just ask.”

How worryingly easy it was. Makes you wonder.

Day 26 (week 6): Forget it

I’m not just suddenly getting paranoid, but it is perhaps understandable that I would be a little nervous given my last post. Therefore, just so you know and don’t try to work out who I am, let me tell you this. I have quite carefully kept out identifying details. I have also added a few inaccuracies just to waste your time of you did embark on such a fruitless challenge. Not that I’m particularly expecting anyone to be reading this anyway.

Just in case.

Day 25 (week 5): Faustian pact

Today I compromised myself. It is not the first and will probably not be the last given my initial impression of this mighty profession. But today I crossed a line that until now delineated the boundary between the bad and the wholly unacceptable.

The Boss arrived in this morning and put forward a solution: that I would forget that I had even seen the papers. He would then write a short advice and print it off for his own records dated July 2006. This would include a gentle reminder about limitation. He would then change the records in Chambers showing the papers had been returned in July along with the advice and a fee note. One of the advantages of giving members of Chambers full access to their own parts of the system. Come Monday, he will then ask the most junior clerk to phone the solicitors politely asking about the progress of the case. So long as he can show that the papers were not on his shelf, the responsibility then lies with the solicitors.

I have to admit that I was utterly shocked. The Boss explained that he’d had a misconduct issue in the past and that if this came out it could be the end of his career. Also, it was only a tiny thing. Just amending the records. Not a big deal and ultimately it would be the insurance that would pay up if anyone. Furthermore, the solicitors were in the wrong even if he hadn’t sent an advice. It was just an adjunct to their primary liability in any event. All not a big deal. Just making it all clear.

I have to admit that in the heat of the moment, I kind of saw this as a bit of an opportunity. I asked him how it might affect my pupillage.
“Only positively”, he replied.

The deal was done.

Day 24 (week 5): The return

The Boss was back today. OldRuin uncharacteristically was also around for the third day in a row. “Trouble and strife” was his only explanation. It meant that it wasn’t going to be easy getting time alone with the Boss without giving the game away. In fact it had to wait until mid-morning when Old Ruin popped out to the loo and I asked the Boss if it was possible to talk to him in private.
“You got a problem with [OldRuin]?” he asked in his usual arrogant and slightly bullying way.
“No”, I replied. “I think there’s a problem with one of your sets of papers.”
“Yeh, that they havn’t settled yet, I’m sure”, he chuckled to himself, clearly thinking himself very smart and witty. Quite the metropolitan, sophisticated cynic, I’m sure.
“I think you’ve missed limitation on one of your cases.”
“What do you mean? Which case? What have you been doing rifling through my cases anyway? What’s this all about?”

OldRuin then re-entered the room and I bowed my head. The Boss glared but said nothing more. Eventually, he very unsubtly suggested I might like to join him for coffee out on Chancery Lane. Old Ruin looked up conspiratorially. There was clearly something up as such a gesture was wholly out of character from the Boss.

Nevertheless, a few minutes later we were indeed headed off to a café down the main legal thoroughfare in London.
“So, what are you talking about?” he asked.
“Just what I said. Your papers for [Blogs] solicitors have passed limitation during the time that they have been sitting on your shelf. It’s an accident on a ship and you’ve only got two years.”

After a brief bout of Tourettes that shocked an old lady walking by, he started to think it through a little more clearly. True to form, his only form of defence was attack. “So what were you doing rifling through my private papers? You had no right.”
“I’m your pupil. That’s my job.”
“You were only to touch papers which I told you. There could be all sorts of confidential documents in there.”
“But you told me explicitly that I was to do as many of your sets of papers as I was able to do and that there was no need to ask you about them. Just to get on with it.”
“Well I didn’t mean go and cause this sort of trouble.”

By that point, I’d had enough. Even a pupil has a tipping point.
“I’m extremely sorry that you feel that way.” I said, raising my head and catching his stare. My sudden bout of confidence clearly unnerved him and he changed tack immediately.
“Well, anyway, I suppose I should also be grateful for you spotting it. What do you think we can do about it?”
“Well, we havn’t told the solicitors yet. That might be a start.”
“Who else knows exactly except you?”
“No-one.” I didn’t want to involve my friend from another Chambers and so left him out.
“Let’s sit on it today. I’ll try and think of a solution by tomorrow morning.”

And that was that.

Day 23 (week 5): No sign

By lunchtime yesterday, things did not look good. At all. The first dilemma was who to tell and when. The Boss was incommunicado. Did I call him at home. Would he actually be at home. I figured that knowing the Boss as I already did, there was at least a small chance that he was not at home. Did I phone his mobile and interrupt whatever he was doing? Or did I eventually just ask the Clerks, or even OldRuin who was in today.

I went for a walk around the garden in Gray’s Inn and took a few deep breaths. Maybe this was the opportunity I had been waiting for. Maybe I could help the Boss. One thing of which I was certain. I needed to give him a discreet head’s up without alerting anyone else.

I therefore left a message on his mobile yesterday afternoon. And yesterday evening.

And this morning.

But there has been no sign of him all day.

Day 22 (week 5): Big mistake

Boss still away. No explanation today. Just simply didn’t turn up. I could have gone to the Clerks and exposed the fact that he hadn’t even arranged anything else for me to do but on balance I wouldn’t have been doing myself any favours in anyone’s books. And this was an opportunity for the Boss to be owing me one. Even a small one. So to capitalise on this, I got stuck into one of his bigger sets of papers lying around his room. Not that he’d told me to pick them out but I figured he’d be grateful. The date the papers came into Chambers was back in June and the instructions sought a general advice as to the value of the claim for injury and loss of earnings. No urgency in any of the instructions and so although four months seemed a pretty long time in which to be turning around a set of papers, I could understand at least that they might not have been top priority.

So, I settled into them, gently getting a feel for the case. It involved an accident on a British navy ship back in September 2004. Looked pretty straightforward. In fact, liability appeared to have been admitted. Started writing the advice on the injury. Browsing the digital version of Kemp & Kemp, the main practitioner text for valuing injuries. Pretty straightforward and looked like a valuable claim. Loss of career in the navy due to the broken leg and the complications which had followed. Estimated value could even be as much as half a million pounds.

Worked on it until lunch and then went off to meet a friend who was also doing personal injury. Pretty relaxed day all in all. Got chatting and well one thing and another I mentioned the case. "Have you issued yet?" he asked. "No, why? No need at this stage. Might even settle and we’ve got until next September anyway."

"No you havn’t."

"What?"

"Limitation. It’s not three years when the accident occurs on a ship. It’s two."

"What?"

"No doubt about it. Had to deal with it in my first week in pupillage. Never knew before that but it’s definitely two years."

Oh.

Day 21 (week 5): Spineless

The Boss is spineless. He is a yellow coward of the very worst kind. He is a greedy, self-serving scum of the earth parasite who would even give his profession a bad name. He has so little spine that were it not for his starched barrister wing collar, I don’t know how he’d manage to stand up.

It was a criminal case today. They don’t settle. They are a matter of justice one way or the other. The Crown against a particular private individual The state enforcing the laws. The defender arriving and exercising the right to a fair trial. Innocent until proven guilty and all of that. Even plea bargains don’t exist in this country.

Or so I thought. However, I under-estimated even the Boss’ ingenuity in this respect. For once he was at court an hour early. Met up with the client for the first time (two minutes) then with the reconstruction expert (three minutes). Then he was off "to talk to his opponent". I tagged along despite his look of irritation at my doing so. However, in hindsight I realise that it would have looked suspicious if he’d actually asked me not to accompany him, again the usual practice. It was for this reason only that I was once again privy to what I am beginning to believe, no do believe, is a scandal.

The two barristers took themselves away from the rest of the crowd (save for me) and then started chatting. Turns out that the prosecutor used to go out with a particular member of our own Chambers who the Boss does not get on with. Well, that led to a good quarter of an hour’s worth of cruel gossip at her expense. Then it was down to business. "Any chance of reducing it to careless if we were to plead guilty?" "Unlikely, but I could run it past them. Why? Is that an offer?" "Well, I don’t have any instructions but I’m sure I could bring him round to see sense if that was on offer." "OK. I’ll make the call."

Ten minutes later, the prosecutor had called the file handler at the CPS who very reluctantly had agreed to reduce the charge, "in return for me buying her dinner this evening" he smirked. "It’ll give me the rest of the day off which I could do with, actually. Quite a heavy weekend. Just got back from skiing."

That was all the Boss needed. Straight back to the client. Explained the risks of putting this in front of a jury. "Notoriously unpredictable", he said. "Not that I don’t think you’ve got a strong case. You have. Otherwise, we wouldn’t have been fighting. But if you can in any way manage that risk before you enter that courtroom, I think we at least have to consider it." The client was, to say the least, reluctant. He had been advised by the last barrister that the case against him was hopeless. "I entirely agree", the Boss said, as he stepped up his settle mode a notch further. "It’s why I would never advise you to pleading guilty to the charge made. However, even if there’s a ten per cent chance that you get yourself in front of a rogue jury – and I’m afraid they do exist – well. It’s your call and I wouldn’t like to seem like I’m trying to persuade you one way or the other…" "…However, if the charge were merely careless driving, the most you’re likely to get is a six month ban. On the other hand, a rogue jury and you’re possibly looking at packing your toothbrush."

This was simply beyond the pale. The man was innocent, of that I was absolutely sure. The other side’s reconstruction report was a shambles and I’m not surprised that the Boss’ opponent was prepared to reduce the charge. It shouldn’t even have got anywhere near the courtroom. I do not pretend to hold myself to the highest of standards and I do not think have the naïve illusions of the Bar that many people may possess. However, even discounting for my already jaded image of the profession, I was ashamed.

Needless to say, it settled. Client only got a two month ban, probably reflecting the fact that the Judge had also read the papers and didn’t think the client was guilty either. The terrible irony of this was that the client left the court raving about how great his "brief" was and how he’d recommend him to all his mates. And to cap it, the Boss left muttering sarcastically, "Yeh, because I so want to build up a criminal hack’s practice".

Back in Chambers by noon. Brief fee, £2,500. Boss away for the rest of the afternoon.

Day 20 (week 4): Information is power

Overheard TopFirst’s pupilmaster talking about him to another member of Chambers today. I was just about to enter their room when I heard them talking. Couldn’t help but listen. "Got him to look up a point on restitution the other day. Still don’t understand it myself but he came up with the answer. Got the prize for it in Cambridge apparently. Not that there’s exactly much call for that sort of thing around here." Then came the interesting bit. "You know his dad was a barrister for a few years." "Yes, I did hear something about that." "Caught with his pants down with a judge’s wife, apparently. No-one would instruct him after that. Knew that judges were always going to be finding against him." "Yes, heard something like that, too. Requalified as a solicitor or something, didn’t he?" At that point I heard one of the clerks coming down the corridor and had to make myself scarce.

All information is power.

Day 19 (week 4): Criminal case

Looks like I will get to see my first criminal case next week. The Boss appears to be the king of the returned brief at the moment and a privately paying road traffic prosecution just came through the doors. Causing death by dangerous driving. Essex businessman driving a Porsche gunning down Marylebone Road at seven in the morning. Knocks over a middle-aged man who obviously didn’t see him coming. Seems like a pretty good defence as the client was driving west with the sun behind him. The man crossing the road was obviously dazzled and was crossing some ten feet before the crossing. The main reason for the prosecution it seems is that there were skid marks on the road and although there is no proof, there is a suggestion that the client was speeding. In fact, it may well boil down to how well the two reconstruction experts perform on the day. Will be good to see the Boss finally fight a case.

Day 18 (week 4): Employment Tribunal

Finally, another court hearing with the Boss today. Actually an employment tribunal. I had been under the impression that the Boss didn’t do any employment work. I was wrong it seemed. He did a hearing (which settled at the door of court) about ten years ago. "It’s just like the small claims track. No real formal procedure. Just a free for all in front of a tribunal who know no better." Well, that was assuring.

Off we trotted to the salubrious surroundings of Croydon employment tribunal. The Boss was for a city worker claiming sex discrimination on the basis that she’d got a smaller bonus than her colleagues. Mysteriously, her former barrister had suddenly become unavailable for today’s hearing only yesterday. Hence the return of the papers to Chambers and their eventual arrival on the Boss’ less than busy desk. The claim was for £80,000 and at first glance at least, looked like a try on. No positive evidence on our part of any actual discrimination. Simply, the client had got less than the average. Further, the average bonus of the three other female employees had been slightly lower than the average of the thirty male colleagues. And? One of those three women had been well above the average. There was hardly a pattern.

Despite this, the Boss had blithely taken on the case on a no-win, no-fee basis. He’d spotted that the other side had made an offer of £10,000 to get rid of the case months ago and therefore once again assumed that it would settle at court.

He was right. £15,000 and the client was told that she was lucky to be getting anything. Overheard the other barrister telling the Boss that he was very keen to settle as he had a Big case starting tomorrow that he’d have to pass up if this one went ahead. No wonder they both seemed rather jolly as they went for a glass of champagne after the case.

Day 17 (week 4): Bluffing

BusyBody is really starting to get on my nerves. I have taken to offering my services to at least one new member of Chambers each day for an extra set of papers but for the last two days in a row, they have mentioned in passing that BusyBody had already offered but that they’d bear it in mind in future. Maybe she spammed all of Chambers with the offer. Maybe she’s been round each individually. Whatever it is, I hope she’s annoying those members of Chambers as much as she is me. I asked her whether she was busy at lunchtime. She replied that her pupilmaster was working her pretty hard. It did feel better hearing a straightforward lie, though. Something quite up front and almost honest in that approach. No attempt to try and muddy the waters and spin her activities in advance. Just straightforward denial. Anyway, we can both play at that game so I told her my pupilmaster was not giving me enough work and so I’d asked the Clerks if they could allocate extra.

Day 16 (week 4): Holidays

Holidays, it seems, are almost not an option for pupils. Kind of like a game of chicken where if one makes the call, the others may follow. However, no-one is prepared to break ranks and go for booking some time out in case they somehow give the impression that they are not desperate to be taken on. Worrier was the one who came asking whether I was taking any time off over Christmas. I said I was thinking about it which was a lie. There are so few opportunities to get any edge at all over the other pupils that all opportunities need to be seized. The Christmas break is a perfect time to pull ahead of at least one of the pupils who will undoubtedly break rank eventually. I suggested that perhaps we both ask our pupilmasters. Yeh, right.

Day 15 (week 3): The Appeal

Saw the Boss actually do some work today. In the grand and historical surroundings of the Lord Mayor’s Court, no less. His opponent spent an hour setting out his grounds of appeal and putting his arguments to the judge who looked decidedly unimpressed. Then it was the Boss’ big moment. He stood up and offered my Skeleton Argument to the Judge. “I’ve summarised my case in there, Your Honour. Do you have any questions arising from the points made?”

The answer came back no.

And that was it. He won, got his costs (£3,000 for the hearing, £1,500 for the Skeleton Argument) and was away.

Day 14 (week 3): So much for Atticus Finch

Not sure why I’m keeping this blog but I have to admit that I’m enjoying it as one of the few outlets in an otherwise extremely dull world at present. It’s Thursday evening and the rest of the world is warming up for the weekend. Not so for BabyBarista. No. Drafting a Skeleton argument for an appeal which the Boss has tomorrow afternoon in Mayor’s and City of London Court. To be fair, since he did the case at first instance he actually seemed like he knew what he was talking about in this case in the five minute introduction he gave me before swanning off at 3pm. It’s now 11pm and I’m still struggling through three House of Lords’ authorities on measure of loss. This was not the reason I came to the Bar. Though come to think of it, I’m not sure why I did. Anyway, I do know that it wasn’t to be slaving away on a Thursday evening over obscure points of law hardly anybody even cared about when they were first decided. On behalf of an arrogant Pupilmaster and an insurance company, making sure that a disabled old lady doesn’t get an extra £20,000 loss of earnings. So much for Atticus Finch.

At least tomorrow I may get to see the Boss perform in court. Been three weeks so far and no sign of him even stepping inside of a courtroom. Got close, of course, before the settlement. Obviously, there’ll be no witnesses and cross-examination but still. Might be interesting to see.

Day 13 (week 3): Biding time

It was kind of ok that I wasn’t thanked yesterday for doing all of his work for him. But today, the Boss seems in some way to resent me for the fact that he got drunk yesterday. Go figure. We are definitely not going to get on and that’s clear to both of us. However much of a snidey creep I can try and be, it’s not going to wash with the Boss and so my only hope is that eventually I simply earn a little respect.

Alternatively, I play on his weaknesses and give him no option but to support me. Plenty of raw material in that respect. Just means I need to watch for opportunities. For now, all I can do is continue to make the coffee, albeit sullenly, photocopy efficiently and bide my time.

Day 12 (week 3): Paranoia

I have worked out that today I have done around £4,000 worth of work for the Boss. He was sent a whole load of cases in which he was asked to draft proceedings. Each one was a car case and except for the dates and precise amounts, they were almost identical. 18 months worth of whiplash injury (apparently that’s around £3,500), around £10,000 for hiring a replacement car and £5,000 damage to the car. He has a precedent for this sort of thing which he made a bog deal of showing me. Like somehow this was the magic which he added to the case. Hardly. I do understand why he was concerned to try and justify some input though as once I’d got through the 20 sets of papers (£200 a shot), he didn’t even check them. Straight out with the DX back to the solicitors.

In the meantime, the Boss had important business to be getting on with. One of the few solicitors who provides him with any decent work was in town today and expected the works. Lunch was therefore taken at 11.30am and the Boss wasn’t seen again until 5pm. Not surprising that he didn’t check the work really given the state he was in by that time. Made some snide remark about no amount of work he does is enough to please his wife and left. District Line to Parsons Green.

It seems to me that for all their supposed independence, most barristers live in a state of complete paranoia and spend so much time kowtowing to solicitors who deign to give them favour that their independence is worth even less than their pride.

Day 11 (week 3): OldRuin

The Boss was back with a vengeance today. He’s got kids aged 5 and 3 and is already stumping up thousands in school fees. On top of that according to a comment I picked up from the Head Clerk on Friday, he has a wife with expensive taste. “He won’t be able to afford not to be back in on Monday with the Christmas holiday his wife is demanding.” However, despite his three days off, he looked a little ragged when he strolled in this morning. Some comment mid-morning about the kids keeping him up. Not my place to ask so I just kept my head down.

Met the Boss’ room-mate for the first time today. He’s about sixty-five and has been practising for over forty years. Although in his time he was pretty successful, he apparently fell into the trap of many barristers, particularly of his generation and spent what he earned and now can’t afford to retire. This means that he’s left between the rock a the hard place. He’s not working hard enough to get the juicy briefs which pay the decent cash and so he has to work pretty hard to bring in anything at all from the scraps which are now passed on from the likes of the Boss. Apparently he was the Boss’ pupilmaster. Anyway, all in all a very charming man. He was in his “country clothes” as he said today. “Just arrived in on the 8.15am to Waterloo.” Lives somewhere down in Hampshire and has the air himself of a dilapidated country pile, gently harking back to better times but too modest to mention them. In fact, we shall call him OldRuin from now on.

What I liked about him most of all was that he was the very first person in Chambers to offer to make me coffee.

I of course declined.

Day 10 (week 2): Worrier

I don’t imagine that every Friday is going to be so easy but the Boss is still on his rest following his lucrative settlement on Tuesday. So far, I’ve got through three sets of papers for three different members of chambers. However, I fear that BusyBody has the same idea. I’m kicking myself for even imagining that it was somehow original. It’s obvious that this is one long lobbying session of members of chambers and there are, I guess, a very limited number of strategies which can be deployed. I shall have to endeavour to add a little originality in future.

The only pupil I havn’t mentioned so far is someone for these purposes I shall call Worrier. In many ways, her nervous tendencies will probably make her a very good lawyer. However, they can also drive you simply to wanting to shout ‘Stop’. Enough is enough. No more worry. Just get on with it. No detail is too small for Worrier. Do you think I should put a full stop here, a comma there? However, I have to admit that out of the three others, I see her as the only possible ally. She is the most impressionable and easily led and I have recognised early on that this may well come in useful.

I don’t want to sound harsh but I didn’t set the rules. In fact I think the whole pupillage thing it a farce. But if it’s there, don’t expect us not to try and win. And definitely don’t blame us if people get hurt along the way.

It’s only a game.

Day 9 (week 2): Utter barristers

Today I am feeling a little the worse for wear. Last night was my ‘call night’, the time when I was officially ‘called to the Bar’. Technically called to the ‘utter’ or ‘outer’ Bar. So I’m an ‘utter barrister’ or something like that. Anyway, we all queued up in Inner Temple Hall and marched up in front of our families and various members of the great and the good to officially be made barristers. Be given the right to wear the wig and gown.

It was all explained though for the life of me, I still don’t understand it. Maybe it’s a variation on South Park’s ‘Chewbacca Defence’, something designed to befuddle and confuse. Who knows. Remember the scene in Pulp Fiction when they tried explaining Dutch marujana laws. Something like that but centuries older. Let me try. First, inner barristers were students as they sat at the inner tables in Hall. All simple so far and that compares to utter barristers who are juniors and QCs. I’m still there. Then, the next day you trot off to court as an utter barrister along with all your newly found QC buddies. But no. Once at court, they go back to being the inner Bar as they can plead from ‘inside the bar’ in Court.

No, I’m still none the wiser – a phrase incidentally that is worth mentioning in front of any lawyer just to hear them mutter back almost like a Pavlovian reaction, “no but hopefully at least better informed.”

I’m glad we’ve got that settled (just what the Boss said on Tuesday).

Day 8 (week 2): BusyBody

Guess what. No sign of the Boss today. No sign of him for the rest of the week in fact. He figures that he’s got his brief fee for the five day trial and so at the very least after all that hard work he deserves a rest. By jove, he’s earned it. Not that I’m complaining. When the cat’s away…Baby Barrista goes to the library. Well, gets the chance to visit a couple of the libraries actually. Turns out there’s quite a social scene already developed. A little Pupil ecosystem all of its own.

Anyway, today was the first day in which I started my plan to win over each Member of Chambers one by one. I’ve drawn up a list in Excel and have set myself a target of doing at least one piece of work for each of them by the time of the tenancy decision at the end of next September. Of course, this is top secret and specifically designed to steal a march on the other pupils.

Speaking of whom, today, let me introduce you to pupil number 3 who we shall describe as BusyBody. Boy oh boy is she that. Wants to know everyone’s business and more. Wants to interfere, boss and generally organise everyone on the planet. It’s exhausting just watching her so I can’t imagine what it must be like to be whizzing around inside her head. Needless to say she’s been on every student committee and organising body you can imagine and was renowned even before arriving at Bar School. A human whirlwind, unable to sit still. Oh, and an over-achiever on all fronts which makes it even more unbearable. She’s the other one with the Cambridge first. In fact same college as TopFirst, just the year below. Didn’t have time for a masters. Life is short, particularly when you’re BusyBody.

First impressions. On balance, I’m against.

Day 7 (week2): No-win no-fee

Just got back from my first busy day today. The Boss was actually stressed for once and it was all over a no-win no-fee agreement. It was a piece of work which the Boss had signed up to on such an agreement way back when and thought nothing more of it. A stress at work case which he assumed would settle as most of that type of work does. Well, this one didn’t and was promising to end up in a five day bun fight at Central London County Court starting tomorrow. The first big problem was that until last night, truth be told, the Boss really hadn’t ever read the papers particularly carefully. It just seemed the sort of case which was going to settle. Had all the signs. Starter offers from the other side. Time off work for stress in the past for the client which should have put his employers on notice that he was vulnerable. At first blush it all seemed dandy. No such luck. Late last night, the Boss started ploughing through the documents the other side had handed over months ago. Needless to say, I received a late night and rather abrupt phone call asking (ie instructing) me to get in early the next morning.

6am this morning, bleary eyed, I crawled into Chambers and started delving deeper into the disclosure. By the time the Boss arrived at half past eight I’d made a pretty good start and had managed to highlight a couple of good reasons why the other side might not be making the offers which the Boss had anticipated. A few extra-curricular problems from the client which the Boss hadn’t previously picked up on which might scupper our case ob causation. Well, rather than getting any credit for spotting these points, it seems that all day I’ve been seen as the reason why the Boss might be about to lose “forty grand’s worth of fees” as he kept muttering under his breath. As if somehow, it would have been better to have discovered it in the middle of the trial.

With this much money at stake for the Boss, one thing was clear. Settlement was a priority and the quicker the better. Given that his solicitor had twice as much again riding on the case there wasn’t much resistance there. As for the client, the solicitor apparently gave him a call mentioning the difficulties that his other evidence might cause and …well, you do understand. Yes, the client understood. What was he going to do some eighteen hours before his big day in court?

Anyway, all’s well that ends well as far as the Boss was concerned as he’s now a big fat brief fee up. “Fifteen grand on the brief and five for the previous work”. Of, and that’s before the 100% uplift, taking him up to his beloved “forty grand” which is still resonating around my head.

Never take on a lawyer on a no-win no-fee is what I say. Invest now in legal expenses insurance. Pay up front. But whatever you do, don’t let the lawyers start worrying about getting paid. However much they protest otherwise, it’s there in their mind. Not even at the back of their mind. It’s a big fat ugly screaming beast jumping up and down on their head telling them to settle.

Just don't ok. Don't.

Day 6 (week 2): Slough

I’m not sure that I’d follow Betjeman and drop bombs on Slough but I’m pretty sure I don’t want to be visiting it too regularly. Sterile, soulless place of modern buildings and a roundabout. Asked the cab driver for the County Court and sure enough, was taken straight to the Magistrate’s Court. I really don’t think I’m the first one to fall for that. Worse though is that he then went on a further drive around Slough only to bring me via a different route to the County Court which turned out to be right next door to the Magistrate’s for once. £12.40 later and with only minutes to spare, no time to argue the point. Junior Tenant was looking a bit stressed. Had his mobile out and looked relieved to see me. “Really glad you’ve arrived”. I need a favour. Can you go and photocopy these documents for me in the court office. No problem at all. Any excuse to have some time to myself.

You might think. Except that I was about to be hit with mini-scam number two even before we got into court. “That’s be £14.20, sir”. “What, these documents are for the court. What do you mean you’re going to charge me? You didn’t tell me that before.” “Been standard policy to charge 10 pence a sheet for over five years now, sir.” “But, but….” There was no choice. Fleeced again.

Then there was the mini-dilemma as to whether to try and get the money back off JuniorTenant. I figured, I think correctly, that he knew what he was doing. Had probably been hit with that one himself and to ask would only risk alienating him at best and losing his vote in the tenancy decision at worst. Pettier things had been known to decided the path of a barrister’s career. A brave face and a slightly worldlier barrister delivered the photocopied bundle to Junior Tenant as he was in conference with his client. “Come in. Have a seat in the corner over there.” You don’t say.

To be fair to Junior Tenant, he’s probably pretty hard up financially himself. He’ll now be paying rent to Chambers and yet he’ll still be building up what they call an age-debt. Traditionally solicitors don’t seem to pay barristers for an average of around six to twelve months. Apparently, this can lead to some pretty hard times even for the best of them. Particularly when after a few years you actually have to start paying tax on what you’ve billed even though sometimes it’s only an off-chance that you’ll even receive it. Pretty rude as far as I can see but it’s something barristers just seem to take. Paranoid that if they stand up and fight, solicitors will go elsewhere. That there’ll always be someone who will break rank and take the work if they start being too demanding.

The joys of being self-employed.

Day 5 (week1): Library life

Found my first Pupil Skive today. Pretty obvious really. Time in the library. “Researching a point”. Found a whole collection of pupils wandering around the library, gossiping and looking like they’d just been let out of jail. What would you give as the collective noun for such a gathering? A giggle? Certainly for some of them. They really are an earnest bunch as a whole. Not a little self-important too. Breathlessly talking about the merits of their respective pupilmasters, the cases that they’re on. Perrrlease. Give up on it won’t you. It’s a job and a pretty menial job at that. Perhaps that’s why they treat it so seriously since if they didn’t they’d realise quite how they’re being exploited. After one week, it seems clear to me that for less than the price of a junior coffee-maker in the local café (not even Starbucks), Chambers gets itself a bunch of dogsbodies who will do all the inconvenient bits of paperwork, not complain at having to spend two hours poring over a photocopier and will offer to make coffee or tea on an hourly basis. Not only that, but come Spring, they have a ready source of cheap labour to keep the solicitors happy with all those small claims hearings which the whole profession seems to treat as loss leaders, ways of bringing in the bigger work.

In the meantime, my contemporaries who went off to City solicitors are dealing with multi-million pound deals and flying off delivering papers to the Middle East whilst those in the City are swanning off on training courses in places like Geneva.

For me, I am to meet the most junior tenant at Slough Count Court at 10am on Molnday morning. Of, the glamour of the Bar.

Day 4 (week 1): Lunch

It’s now Thursday afternoon and this is the first time that I’ve been set some written work to do. I’m therefore sitting at my computer just a few feet away from the Boss writing this blog under the auspices of doing a Particulars of Claim in a workplace liability case. What the Boss doesn’t realise it that I’ve had a precedent emailed over from a fellow pupil in another set which should save me a good couple of hours of work. Time enough then for a short note.

Until now, I have wholly occupied in trundling along behind the Boss and meeting and greeting other pupils. It seems that the way he likes it done is to refuse to acknowledge my presence when he’s with other barristers outside of chambers. We were at lunch yesterday in one of the Halls and he greeted a number of his chums. Some had pupils and the only confirmation that I was not invisible was that there was the perfunctory nod from them. A knowing look, that we’re all in the same boat. Not much fun is it etc. Raised eyebrows and at least there’s some real human interaction.

Did at least learn an important lesson at lunch. Chat was about nothing in particular and after much thought I eventually piped up with something designed to impress only to find that the Boss had decided to speak at the same time. Quick as a flash, he looked at me and pointedly said, “Sorry, after you” with raised eyebrows. It is not the first tikme that I have noticed that his best put downs are in the insincere courtesies he offers around. “No, no, I said. Sorry to interrupt”. “No, I insist,” he replied. “Go ahead”. Well, I was lost for words by that point and could only manage a bit of incoherent ramblings.

Top First was sitting opposite and smirked into his soup. Round one to him.

Day 3 (week 1): Political correctness day

It was political correctness day yesterday. First I had the chat from the Boss. He told me that if I was being sexually harassed that I was to come to him. However, “for the avoidance of any doubt”, he went on without even a hint of irony, if I believed that he was sexually harassing me, I should go to the Head of Chambers. Yes, of course, I said. Certainly. I’ll do that. Must not forget.

Well, the Head of Chambers was quite different. There are two men and two women doing this pupillage and we were all herded into his very grand room. After a brief introduction telling us that Chambers had been founded some sixty years ago and that we were following in a fine line of young barristers before us, he continued. “Now. I’ve got to tell you this. Bar Council regulations and all that. Sexual harassment. Terrible mess. Hope it doesn’t happen. However, if it does, I’m bound to inform you that you should report it either to your pupilmaster or to me. This is without reservation and you should be fully aware that we comply entirely with the bar Council policy on this issue. I’m also bound to tell you that should you make any such complaint it will not be held against you in this Chambers.”

Well, that was that and now we knew.

Except it wasn’t.

“However, I’m probably shouldn’t say this, but it’s meant in the most helpful way. Consider it practical advice from an old hand at the Bar. Bear in mind that whilst you are absolutely within your rights to make any such complaint, in fact more than within your rights, you must not forget also that there are consequences to every action. This is always the case and is no different here. Whatever you do has consequences whether you notice them or not. I can’t say what they’d be in these circumstances but you have to be aware that not all Chambers or barristers are as enlightened as us. Not that they’d actively discriminate against you in those circumstances. It’s just that you should know that they would know. That’s all.”

Welcome to the modern Bar.

Day 2 (week 1): TopFirst

Not a bad start yesterday. No worse than I expected. Was shown around chambers and introduced to the clerks and a number of the other barristers. Much of it a blur. Also met one of the other three pupils. My competition for this year. On average only one in four gets taken on and there is no avoiding the fact that we are directly in competition for that place. Seemed nice enough. Bit of a swot, though. Got a first at Cambridge and even went on to do an LLM. Very quiet although I’ve been told that quiet is not a bad tactic for pupillage. I’ll call him ‘Top First’ for now. Seems strange when you’re training for such an ostensibly outgoing and independent profession that you spend the first year proving your abilities to slime up to the right people and keep out of the way of others.

Had my first chat with the Head Clerk. Consisted of a “Welcome, Sir, your pigeon-hole’s over there. Always make sure you tell us where you are when you’re not with your pupilmaster. Good luck.” Quite an intimidating manner. By far the most impressive person I’ve met in Chambers so far. The other clerks all kept their heads down when he was talking and only peeked up to say “good morning” when he introduced them. A tight ship indeed.
Today, we meet the Head of Chambers.

Day 1 (week 1): The Boss

Well, here it is. Truly the diary of a nobody. A pupil barrister on his first day in Chambers. The letter offering me the place simply told me to arrive for 8.30am in the Clerks Room where I would be introduced to my pupilmaster who, for these purposes, I shall call the Boss. Obviously, I’d already had a brief chat with him on the telephone and I’d checked out his profile online. Educated at Winchester and Trinity College, Cambridge it was a pretty traditional upper middle class barrister background. Upper second in law and the called to the Bar in the Middle Temple in 1988. He’d therefore been a barrister for some eighteen years and I’d found with a bit more of a google search that he was married with two kids. Official interests: chess and tennis.

I’ve been warned about pupillage by those who have gone before. A glorified coffee-maker and under-paid photo-copier are the most common descriptions so far. Such is the Ordeal through which the Bar Council continues to force their brightest and best. Interviews and offers might be sufficient for Goldman Sachs or McKinzies. Not so, the Bar. Twelve months living in close proximity before they decide whether to take you on or not. A sort of upper class reality show in microcosm where every one of your foibles will be analysed, where a blackball system exists such that if you annoy one person, you’re out. As with Big Brother, you’re playing to the lowest common denominator. Attempting to be as inoffensive as possible in the sound knowledge that it won’t be the votes for that get you in but the lack of votes against. Sure, they’ll go through the motions of checking my work and ticking the Bar Council’s Equal Opportunities forms. But the crunch comes in the unsaid so-called ‘Tennis Club Test’ – would they have me in their club…or not.

So, there are my pre-conceptions. It’s now 7.30am. I’ve spent the Summer working for Starbucks in preparation for this day and now it is time for me to set off on my hour-long commute to the Temple.

Reviews of BabyBarista

The Times Online
"The unashamedly gossipy diary of a pupil barrister - the hottest blog in the legal world"

The Lawyer Magazine, 26/2/2007
“If this is a fictional account it is genius...Web Week's most fantastic discovery this week.”

The Lawyer Magazine 2/4/2007
"Our favourite blawg of the moment still does not disappoint, with honeytraps, identity theft, deception and rivalry... and that's just in the four most recent instalments..."

The Legal Executive (Journal of the Institute of Legal Executives)
"the whole blog is...a highly entertaining fiction..."

Eric the Hamster’s website reviews
“One of the funniest blogs I have read in a long time. The (allegedly fictional) account of the day to day work of a "Baby Barrister" (trainee lawyer). The worrying thing is that a lot of this rings true!”

Loopy Mups
"I haven't had the joy of finding a good read for awhile now, purely out of sheer laziness. But this Blog has caught my limited attention span. I've sniggered, smirked and even laughed out loud and I'm still only catching up on the October Entries."

Criminal Solicitor Dot Net
“Hilarious, particularly the accounts of how to undermine the other pupils, in order to assure his own place in chambers at the end of his pupillage.”

Blawg Review#97
“David A. Giacalone at f/k/a says, "move over Anonymous Lawyer," and suggests I introduce Blawg Review readers to BabyBarista, an anonymously written account of the "pupillage" of a pupile barrister in London.” Bob Coffied, Health Care Law Blog (on behalf of Blawg Review)

Charon QC
“I’d like to draw your attention to a blog which I have been reading recently: BabyBarista…While it may be a fictional account of life as a pupil (There is much for the student and intending barrister) it has nuggets of information in pretty well every post. I particularly enjoyed this piece… and I quote…”(here)
“Excellent” (here)

Delia Venables
"This blog has already received quite a lot of critical acclaim - a novelist in the making perhaps."

The Barrister Blog
“Highly entertaining: Pupil Barrister speaks out. We have only just discovered this blog. Since last October an anonymous blogger has been keeping a fictional account of time in pupillage. Read from the start. This is likely to fly around the legal world” (here).
“BabyB continues as our favourite legal blog as his controversial (and hilarious) posts continue to be forwarded around firms” (here)

Legal Spy UK
“Heads up for this blog…Its got to be one of the funniest around”

T Sinister
“appears to write more good gossip in a day than I hear in a week. And in British!” Trevor, Harvard Law School student.

Law Career Blog
"Very, very funny, and very, very British" (here). “BabyBarista’s blog is quintessentially British, in a very modern way: eloquently verbose, cutting, witty in the extreme. In the short time it's been online it has garnered significant readership. I see it as a UK counterpart to Jeremy Blachman's US-based Anonymous Lawyer…Should we be looking for a novel soon? US readers should pay particular attention to the fact that BabyBarista's fictional challenges and travails are quite literally the same as those faced by lawyers on this side of the pond: billing by the hour, poor mentoring, working with abnormal people, intolerance and impatience, burnout, lack of idealism, etc. Perhaps it's comforting, since misery loves company. Then again, perhaps not.” (Here). Gregory W.Bowman, Assistant Professor, Mississippi College School of Law.

Nearly Legal
“Think a menage a trois of Donna Tartt, Harry Mount and Anonymous Lawyer with looming Tesco’s Law thrown in…thoroughly enjoyable.”

Family Lore
“excellent and highly interesting (not to mention entertaining)” (here)…“the excellent BabyBarista” (here). John Bolch, Winch & Winch solicitors.

Divorce Solicitor
“amusing and cutting and may well help divert you from your anxieties about your divorce!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” Lynn Bastow, partner, Bastows solicitors.

EU Law Blog
“It is with unusual pleasure that we introduce you to Babybarista. It must be one of the funniest sites about starting out in legal practice. It features a young barrister in London, England...Just read and enjoy !”

Law Geek
"This is the critically acclaimed and supposedly fictional account of a pupil barrister's experiences during his pupillage that is taking the web world by storm. Very witty and entertaining, LawGeek recommends this as a regular read."

UK Law Students
“an entertaining read”

Law Student
“as a wannabe barrister I am addicted to the newly discovered (for me) BabyBarista…I suspect more insightful than any mini pupillage.”

lawyer-2-be
"I must say that whilst I am getting quite excited about the next phase of my journey (pupillage), I am hoping and praying that I don't get a fellow pupil like baby barista - if you're not yet familiar with this "fictional account" of life as a pupil barrister, then it's definitely worth a read! It has me in fits most days and provides some welcome relief from the relentlessness of exams. Enjoy..."

Low-Fi Librarian
“Especially like the Library Life post.”

Aukland Law Society
BabyBarista is a blog that has the subtitle "Pupil barrister making coffee for the rich and famous". It is a diary of a barrister doing his pupillage - suposedly fictional, but one wonders! This blog has already received quite a lot of critical acclaim.

Binary Law
“One new blogger, BabyBarista, has gained rapid visibility…His expressed aim (tongue in cheek, I’m sure not) is to land a book deal.” Nick Holmes, managing director, InfoLaw.

Scottish Boomerang
"What a gem his blog is, all that truth dressed (sometimes only in a bikini) up to look like fiction with the odd cliched legal urban legend thrown in just to throw us off the scent."


Please note that BabyBarista's first day in pupillage starts just above this post