by Caro Fraser
‘I was just coming round to your chambers to leave you a note,’ she said. She looked hesitant.
‘Oh?’ said Anthony, glancing past her, thinking that this was going to make him even later. Well, what the hell. He leant against the wall, recovering his breath a little. He looked at her. ‘I can save you the trouble. You can give it to me now.’ He paused. ‘Or do you want to tell me?’
‘Look, can’t we talk?’ She glanced round at the people making their way up and down the lane, her face troubled.
‘No,’ said Anthony, with finality. He felt he could do no more than refer obliquely to the events of Saturday. ‘I’m afraid too much has happened.’ It sounded wooden, but he could think of no other words. ‘Look, I’m late. I’ve got to find a taxi.’ He began to walk towards the Strand, and she walked with him. They said nothing until they had passed through the gate, and then he stopped and turned to her.
‘We can’t see each other any more. You know that. It should never have started again. There’s Piers—’
‘Yes,’ she said, and looked down.
‘—and a whole lot of other things.’
‘That’s really what my note was about.’
Anthony saw the yellow light of an empty cab coming through the traffic. Julia was holding out her note to him. He lifted his arm and the cab swung in to the kerb towards them.
‘No, I don’t want it,’ he said, and glanced briefly at her, thinking how pretty she looked, standing with her sweet, troubled face in the middle of the Strand, getting in everyone’s way. He got into the taxi without looking back.
The meeting was, like all chambers meetings, to take place in Sir Basil’s room. When Michael arrived just after four-thirty, Sir Basil was not there. David and William followed him into the empty room, and then Cameron’s heavy footstep sounded on the stair.
‘Basil’s downstairs. He’ll be a few minutes,’ said Cameron, as they all sat down. ‘Why the devil are we having this meeting, anyway?’ he said tetchily. ‘I thought it was understood that Basil’s nephew was staying on.’
Roderick Hayter came in with Jeremy, and then Stephen puffed in, pulling on his jacket. They found chairs and sat down.
‘Well, some of us feel he may not be the right choice,’ said Michael mildly, feeling in his pocket for a handkerchief; he had a summer cold.
‘Your boy Anthony may be very bright,’ said Cameron crossly, ‘but I cannot see why it is of such importance that a question need arise. We don’t normally disagree about these things.’ He was in a bad mood. A case that he was running in the High Court had run into evidential difficulties, and he had spent the morning with a ship’s master who, it turned out, spoke very little English.
‘It may be of considerable importance,’ said Roderick, to the surprise of the others. ‘I’ve already discussed with Michael and Stephen the fact that I do not see how we can afford to take on someone whom solicitors are reluctant to instruct. We all rely on work from below.’
Michael nodded, blowing his nose.
‘Come to that,’ said Stephen, ‘I’ve already pointed out to you that we can surely afford to carry someone, if that someone happens to be Sir Basil’s nephew.’
‘Oh, come,’ said David, ‘it’s hardly a question of carrying him. He’s not that bad. He’ll get better – I’m sure he’ll get plenty of work. This set has a reputation, you know.’
‘Exactly,’ said Roderick.
‘There is something in what Roderick says,’ said Jeremy suddenly. Michael looked at him; this was support from an unexpected quarter. ‘I mean,’ Jeremy went on heavily, ‘I have watched him. He’s not … steady.’
‘Steady!’ exclaimed Cameron. ‘What is the relevance of that? If he has any aptitude, and if he’s the right kind of man, I don’t see why we should worry about how steady he is. Am I steady?’
No one answered this. Roderick gave a sigh of exasperation. All were rather dismayed by the fact that real differences seemed to exist amongst them. This had not happened before. The whole existence of the chambers was based on a sense of common purpose and shared views. Now a certain dubious tension filled the air.
Sir Basil’s footsteps sounded on the stair, and he came in hurriedly, a bundle of papers under his arm. He was in his shirtsleeves and had his glasses on.
‘I apologise for keeping everyone waiting,’ he said, looking round with a smile as he made his way to his desk. ‘Now,’ he said, slipping on his jacket and folding his spectacles into their case. He sat down at his desk, looked down briefly, and then looked up. The smile had gone. ‘We are here to discuss—Oh, are we still waiting for Leo? Well, anyway, we may as well commence. We are discussing who is to become the next tenant of these chambers. It was not a matter upon which I had anticipated holding more than the merest formality of a meeting, but,’ he went on, ‘I understand that there may be certain … feelings among some members that a doubt exists. I cannot, myself, comment upon that doubt, but must instead ask those in whose minds it exists to assist the rest of us.’
Sir Basil spoke as kindly and as mildly as he could, but his words could not but betray his displeasure at the fact that the choice of tenant which he had so clearly indicated as his preference should in any way be disputed. He was not accustomed to dissent in chambers; it made him both unhappy and uneasy. He looked at Michael. Michael decided that the thing had best be put bluntly.
‘I think we all realise,’ he began in his reedy voice, wishing that he did not have this wretched cold, ‘that any disagreement on a matter such as this is very unpleasant. But some of us feel that it is not perhaps in the best interests of chambers that Edward should become the next tenant.’ Sir Basil lifted his chin a little, still looking at Michael, but said nothing. Roderick crossed his legs and looked up.
‘I must endorse what Michael says, Basil.’ There was a silence as Sir Basil glanced at Roderick in surprise. He had not realised that the most senior figure in chambers, next to himself, shared Michael’s view. This was not pleasing. At that moment the door opened, and Leo came in. He smiled unhurriedly and took a seat next to Cameron.
‘I apologise for being late,’ he said. ‘Mr Justice Robinson has been taking me to task for not having read my Scrutton thoroughly.’ The others smiled, pleased that Leo’s relaxing presence was now among them. Sir Basil did not smile.
‘We are discussing the relative merits of our two pupils. It seems Roderick feels that perhaps Edward is not quite—’
‘No,’ interrupted Roderick, trying not to sound heated. ‘It is not a question of that. It has nothing to do with that. Anthony Cross is an exceptionally able – even brilliant – young man. I do not feel we can overlook that. I do not feel we can afford to lose him.’ That was as much as Roderick intended to say on the matter, and for Michael it was enough.
‘Well,’ said Sir Basil, sitting back in his chair, ‘it seems that there is a stronger division of opinion than I had expected. I had believed that most of us felt that Edward was eminently suited to join us. He has, I think, performed work for some of you besides Jeremy.’ Roderick did not look up; he found the business of disagreeing with Basil distressing, and would say no more. ‘Leo?’
Sir Basil looked at Leo, who glanced up, flicking a speck of lint from the knee of his trousers. He paused for a long second.
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I can’t see that any of us can have any exception to Edward joining us as the next tenant. He seems perfectly competent and is a very pleasant young man. Of course, Anthony is very talented. I’m sure he will do very well wherever he goes.’
That settled it for David. But Michael glanced at Leo with a frown. Again to Michael’s surprise, Jeremy spoke up.
‘Roderick has previously made the point – though not, I think, to you, Basil – that it is important for the more senior among us that any new tenant should generate a sufficiency of new work.’ He paused. ‘Otherwise the thing is pointless.’
‘I don’t think you can possibly suggest,’ said Stephen, glancing u
p with a smile, the light glinting on his glasses, ‘that anyone’s work is likely to dry up. Besides which, solicitors will always continue to instruct anyone that this set of chambers sees fit to take on as a tenant.’
Sir Basil did not like this; it was getting a little too close to the bone. He leant forward and looked round.
‘Well, it is disappointing for us to find that we are not all of one mind on any issue. However,’ he went on, ‘since those are the circumstances, I do not see that we have any alternative but to vote on the matter.’ He smiled. He was not without confidence in the influence of his own views, and he had not needed to express these, merely to make them felt. ‘I think it best that we do it by secret ballot,’ he said, rummaging in one of his drawers for a counsel’s notebook. ‘Here we are.’ He produced one, tore out a page carefully along the perforations, and folded it and tore it into ten scraps of paper, one of which he dropped into the waste-paper basket. Of the remaining nine, each member of chambers took one; they were embarrassed and vexed at having to reach a decision in this clumsy and unfriendly fashion. It was a thing that had never been done before. When there had been some borrowing of pens and folding up of paper, Sir Basil drew the little pile of papers across the desk towards him. He took out his spectacle case, unfolded his glasses, and put them on. He read out each piece of paper as he unfolded it, and laid it to one side.
‘Mr Cross,’ he read. ‘Mr Choke. Mr Choke. Mr Cross. Mr Cross. Mr Choke. Mr Choke. Mr Cross.’ He paused as he opened the last one, and glanced at Michael. ‘Mr Choke.’ He took off his glasses.
Michael felt heavy with disappointment for Anthony. Still, there it was. The matter was decided. From the discussion, it had been clear that he and Roderick and Jeremy were for Anthony. William must have been the other. He was surprised at Leo – but then, no one could ever predict how Leo’s mind would work. He probably hadn’t particularly cared about the matter one way or the other, and had simply gone with the old man.
The meeting broke up, everyone relieved that it was over and that Sir Basil’s nose had not been put out of joint. They could resume their usual harmonious relationship and all would go on smoothly as before. Edward would be neither a blessing nor a curse, and young Mr Cross would make his fortune elsewhere.
Michael mounted the stairs with Roderick.
‘That’s a damned shame,’ said Roderick, shaking his head. ‘He would have been first class. Still …’
‘Yes,’ said Michael. ‘Still.’
They exchanged a smile, and Michael was about to go into his room, when Leo leant over and called down from the landing above. ‘Tell Anthony I’ve got his cricket kit, would you, Michael? He left it in my car.’
Michael nodded and called back, ‘Right, I’ll tell him when he comes in.’ He went into his room and sat down at his desk, when William put his head round the door.
‘By the way, it won’t be much consolation to Anthony, but I happened to pass the noticeboard outside the common room in Middle Temple at lunchtime, and he’s won that essay prize. Maybe he already knows, but I thought I’d mention it.’ William closed the door and went off.
No, thought Michael, it would not be any consolation. There was another knock at the door and, to Michael’s surprise, Edward looked in.
‘Hello,’ said Michael, giving him a smile. ‘You’ve heard, have you? Congratulations.’
‘What?’ said Edward, looking more than usually uncollected. ‘No, what? But listen,’ and he came in, closing the door, and sat down in a chair in front of Michael’s desk. ‘Can I talk to you about something?’
‘Anything,’ said Michael, sitting back.
‘The thing is,’ said Edward, ‘I can’t tell my uncle. I thought if I told you—’
‘Told me what?’ asked Michael helpfully, as Edward sat looking pained and disordered.
‘Well, the thing is, I’m not going to stay on here. I’ve talked to my father about it. I’m not really cut out for this, y’know. I mean, I’m terrified every time anyone gives me a piece of work. Imagine what I’d be like when I had my own practice!’
There is a divine providence, thought Michael.
‘What are you going to do?’ he asked, gazing at Edward with gentle speculation.
‘Oh, I’m going to go in for farming. I think I can handle that. Help Dad out a bit, you know.’ He paused for a moment, looking happier. ‘I think he’s quite pleased, really. My mother went on a bit, wasting all that training, that kind of thing, but I told her it would be a useful sort of background if I ever wanted to go into politics.’
‘Politics?’ enquired Michael, slightly dazed.
‘My grandfather was MP for round our way, you know. And his father. Sort of runs in the family. The old man isn’t really into that sort of thing, but I might give it a go.’
‘I see,’ said Michael.
‘Anyway,’ resumed Edward, ‘the point is,’ and his face became pained again, ‘I don’t think my uncle is going to be very pleased.’
‘It will disappoint him, I imagine,’ replied Michael.
‘I don’t think I want to tell him. Could you—?’
‘No, I don’t think that would go down very well,’ said Michael. ‘I think you’d better see him yourself.’ He paused. ‘You are very sure about all this?’
‘Oh, yes,’ said Edward. ‘Definitely. I mean, it’s been great fun working with you all, but—Anyway, Anthony’s much brighter than I am. He’ll get on tremendously.’
‘I dare say he will.’
‘I’d better get it over with,’ said Edward, and got up quickly. ‘Oh, God.’ He stopped at the door. ‘Thanks.’ And he fled in anxiety.
Michael got up, blew his nose, and walked over to the window. He looked down at the clerks and barristers hurrying about their business in the courtyard below, and smiled to himself, looking forward to telling Anthony his good news. Then he remembered the bet that he had had with Leo as to who would become the next member of chambers. He must go and remind Leo that he owed him ten pounds. Leo would be amused.
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About the Author
CARO FRASER is the daughter of George MacDonald Fraser, author of the Flashman novels. She attended art school and worked as an advertising copywriter before deciding to pursue a career in law. Fraser began to write full-time while bringing up the third of her four children, and published her first novel, The Pupil, in 1993. Since then she has written several novels, including the critically acclaimed Caper Court series. She is currently a full-time shipping lawyer and lives in London.
By Caro Fraser
THE CAPER COURT SERIES
The Pupil
Judicial Whispers
An Immoral Code
A Hallowed Place
A Perfect Obsession
A Calculating Heart
Breath of Corruption
Errors of Judgment
LOOK OUT FOR THE NEXT BOOK IN CARO FRASER’S CAPER COURT SERIES …
For Leo Davies, a barrister at one of London’s most prestigious chambers, life is good. It is only when he applies to take silk and become a QC that whispers begin of his scandalous sexual past. Leo, a man who has always meticulously divided his personal and professional lives, is unnerved to discover just how much his colleagues seem to know.
Could attaching himself to a suitable woman be the solution to his problems? When fellow barrister Anthony Cross falls in love with beautiful solicitor Rachel Dean, Leo realises he may have to callously hurt them both to save his career. But Rachel has a dark and frightening s
ecret of her own, and Leo’s relationship with Anthony is more complicated than ever …
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Copyright
Allison & Busby Limited
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First published in Great Britain in 1993.
This ebook edition published by Allison & Busby in 2013.
Copyright © 1993 by CARO FRASER
The moral right of the author is hereby asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All characters and events in this publication other than those clearly in the public domain are fictitious and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent buyer.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.