by Brian Alford
The case to be put was that though luckless Alf was not responsible for the actions of his guest, he was responsible for those actions taking place at Barndem and so should be made to pay compensation. This was a tricky legal question based on the assumption that the victim Robert, should be able to pursue his normal activities free from danger and that as the felon, Alf had introduced the guest he was in fact guilty of causing bodily harm. Robert had wanted to claim grievous bodily harm but his solicitor had advised that unless he were prepared to pretend to limp badly using a walking stick and possibly allow himself to be subjected to a medical examination, there was little chance of such an exaggerated claim. Even the incensed Robert drew the line at outright deception, though from then on there was the merest hint of a limp as he walked. This was all the more surprising since he was actually struck on the arm by the offending ball.
And so the case came to court under the magistration of Justice Ian Rate. It was a strange coincidence that Justice Rate should have been appointed to hear the case. Justice Rate lived in a house whose back garden joined the third fairway at Barndem. No golfer himself Justice Rate had in fact built up a considerable feeling of antithesis towards Barndem. A keen gardener Justice Rate spent many long hours tinkering with his prized flowers, a pleasure which was frequently interrupted by passing Barndem golfers. Mostly it was the raucous shouting and cursing which disturbed him but occasionally it was the dreaded white missile, which descended haphazardly from the sky. On more than one occasion a delicate and lovingly nurtured blossom had been felled in its prime by a wayward projectile. Over the years Barndem members had learned that a ball landing in the garden of the crabby old man who owned the house along the third fairway was a ball lost. Any attempt to retrieve it was to court the possibility of an extremely unpleasant encounter.
Out of robes Justice Rate had the justice sense of the common man and was known to propose actions of reprisal well beyond the bounds of legality. There was considerable belief that he would actually have been prepared to carry out such extreme reprisals. One unfortunate incident saw the infuriated Justice Rate tipping a pile of garden waste over one poor soul who misguidedly asked for the return of an offending ball.
Given his considerable irritation with Barndem it was doubtful whether Justice Rate would have been able to maintain complete objectivity. In a perfect world he should have declared his interest in the legal action and stepped down. However, a mixture of curiosity and an inflated sense of injustice had affected his power of rational thought and he kept quiet about his close but unwelcome association with Barndem. His deception was helped by the fact that none of the combatants in the case recognised him.
As expected the case began with a dearth of legal trivia and the contention of a series of doubtful legal points. The prosecution was simple, Alf was responsible for bringing the guest to the club and since the guest had struck Robert with a ball, Alf was therefore responsible for the injury. Several X versus Y cases were sited as precedent to support the prosecution case.
There was never a question that the guest was innocent since miss-hitting the ball was an accepted hazard of the game. However, the introduction of a wayward and dangerous guest was not considered to be a normal hazard of the game and constituted wilful negligence on the part of Alf. It was the duty of every member to ensure that the guests they introduced were safe. Not to do so amounted to wilful negligence.
And so the case rambled on. Things did not really begin to get interesting until the defence started to call witnesses. The first two were simply to substantiate the good character of Alf. Indeed it was true that he had been a model member, and was much liked. His efforts on behalf of the club were many and it was shown that he had only the best interests of Barndem at heart. That he would not deliberately bring a wayward guest into the club was established beyond reasonable doubt. The arguments were strong and supported the acknowledged belief that Alf would have taken all possible precautions to safeguard the interests of the club. It was reasonably argued that he could not have easily known in advance that his guest would have been so wayward.
But the real ace in the defence was to be when an unusually and frighteningly sober, Henry took the stand. How he managed to arrive sober is the story of a heroic struggle against great odds by Vic and Bill to keep him away from the bottle. It was a struggle which drove them to the very thing from which they were trying to keep Henry. Having delivered the protesting Henry to court, Vic and Bill had made for the nearest bar to gain sustenance.
As luck would have it Henry had witnessed the whole incident and was convinced that Alf was not to blame. Vic and Bill had doubts as to the integrity of Henry’s observations. There could have been some truth in their suspicions that Alf’s magnanimity towards Henry had a significant bearing on his judgement. Being generous by nature Alf was a good source of a free drink and more importantly steadfastly refused any reciprocal offers. To Henry this made Alf a model member, always ready to buy a drink and always eager to refuse in return. This enabled Henry to refute the accusation that he never offered to buy a drink. The thought of losing such a benefactor had been a sobering shock to Henry. Alf had to be defended at all costs.
Sitting uncertainly in the witness chair Henry squinted painfully at the card held in front of him by the clerk. It had long been his profound observation that without the lubricating effect of alcohol his eyes failed to focus correctly. This observation had once been substantiated by Bob in a discourse on the way alcohol dilated the blood vessels in the eye. Bob’s point was to explain why the eyes became bloodshot. The explanation went above Henry’s head, but he drew some comfort from the implication that there was medical support for his drinking. From then on Henry drank to improve his eyesight. Judging by his consumption he must have felt that his eyesight was extremely poor.
Thanks to the diligence of Vic and Bob in restraining Henry he felt at that moment to be in dire need of a drink to assist his eyes. There was a silence as Henry continued to strain to make sense of the card being held in front of him. Puzzled, Justice Rate looked up from his notes and stared quizzically at Henry. As the struggle and silence continued he felt compelled to intervene. “Is something wrong?”
Henry looked in the direction of the bench, a foolish move since now his eyes had to attempt to re-focus on the comparatively distant Justice. The general effect of his wild blinking caused some mirth amongst the court. “Eh?”
“I said is there something wrong? Can you not read the text of the oath?”
“Bloody writing’s a bit small isn’t it?” Henry gestured at the card with a little too much enthusiasm and knocked it out of the clerk’s hand. The normally dignified clerk was obliged to suffer the indignity of crawling under Henry’s chair to retrieve the card. Henry looked down to where the unfortunate clerk was crawling between his legs.
“What the bloody ‘ell is he doing?”
Justice Rate peered over the top of his reading glasses. He had adopted this habit as he felt it lent him an air of authority. Before he had accomplished the knack it actually had the reverse effect for his glasses were prone to slipping off and landing with a crash on the bench in front of him. However he had finally perfected the art by screwing his nose slightly to form a restraining barrier. The general effect was to make him appear to be sneering at the person he was addressing.
“Would you like the clerk to read it so that you can repeat the words?”
“I’m not bloody stupid. It’s just that my eyes need a bit of lubrication. It doesn’t help when this berk throws the card at me either.”
At the back of the courtroom Vic and Bill were perceptibly sliding down in their seats trying to disappear. They had managed to deliver Henry sober but had been unable to do anything about his disposition. In hindsight they were to reflect that perhaps a couple of drinks could actually have helped. A mildly drunk Henry was passably civil. The problem would have been defining and drawing the line between a lubricated Henry and a drunken Henry; the
two animals were very different.
Justice Rate continued. “I will thank you to be civil in this court. You must take the oath. If you will not read the words in front of you then you must step down.”
Grasping the card firmly with both hands the clerk pushed it to within a couple of inches of Henry’s face. Startled Henry sat back in his chair and again squinted painfully at the Justice. His eyes had adjusted sufficiently to just about distinguish the figure sitting at the bench. “Don’t I know you from somewhere?”
Slightly concerned at his possible discovery, Justice Rate frowned once more over the top of his reading glasses. “This is not a social gathering. Now can we please proceed?”
If it had been possible, a light of recognition would have shone in Henry’s murky eyes. “Bugger it! I do know you, you’re that silly old bugger who lives near the course”
Justice Rate thumped the bench. “If you cannot control yourself I will have you removed.”
With an incomprehensible mutter Henry slowly read the words in front of him watched by the intrigued Justice Rate. He recognised Henry as the Barndem member who had been particularly abusive one day when he refused to return a ball that had landed in his prize delphiniums. A small smile of anticipation appeared on his lips as began to relish the thought of the encounter with Henry. Normally these civil cases were boring beyond belief; this one promised to be much more entertaining.
When Henry had finished Justice Rate could not resist a quip. “There now, that wasn’t so difficult was it?”
Henry glared in return and Alf’s council sprang to his feet, hastily approaching in an attempt to prevent any further impropriety from Henry. “Mister Munroe, could you please tell us exactly what happened.”
Henry was still incensed by the sarcasm of Justice Rate and could only summon a simple “Yes.” in reply. A short silence ensued which caused a murmur of amusement from the room.
Justice Rate peered over the top of his glasses. “You could not be just a touch more specific could you Mister Munroe? We really would appreciate it. I am sure you have much to contribute and we are all anxious to hear your words of wisdom.” As if to make a point of mighty significance as he spoke, Justice Rate wrote Henry’s name on his notes.
Henry was reaching boiling point and the desperate council felt obliged to intervene. “On the day in question you were sitting behind the first tee watching my client and his companions teeing off were you not?”
Faced with a question to answer Henry seemed to calm down and began to collect his chaotic thoughts. “I was yes.”
“And what did you see?”
“Well, being gentlemen, not like some I could mention…” Henry cast a furtive glance at Justice Rate who waved an admonishing finger. “As I was saying, they allowed Alf’s guest the honour of teeing off first. And just as he was about to strike this squirrel ran across in front of the tee.”
Justice Rate frowned doubtfully. “A squirrel?”
“That’s right, a squirrel.”
“And what colour was this squirrel?”
“What bloody difference does that make?”
“Probably none. I’m, just curious.”
“Grey, I think.”
“You think? Are you colour blind?”
“No.”
“Then could you be a little more specific, just for the records. We do like to deal in facts here. It looks neater in the case report.”
“Dammit it was a grey squirrel! I have no bloody idea what gender it was.”
“Thank-you. Most kind. You may continue.”
Henry was a little confused but a reassuring smile and gesture from Alf’s council helped put his mind back on track. “Well it put the poor chap off and he miss hit the ball onto the tee box marker from where it shot off and hit Argyll as he was getting out of his car in the nearby car park.”
Justice Rate frowned over his glasses. “Tee box? Could you explain what a tee box is?”
Henry drew a vague square shape in front of him. “Its a box by the tee. Tells you the number of the hole and how long it is and the scratch index. All that sort of thing, you know.”
“Well actually I didn’t know, but I do feel considerably enlightened now, thank you.”
A short pause was interrupted by Alf’s council. “Is there anything else you would like to add?”
“Oh, yes right, like we discussed.” This last remark was partially lost due to the loud and frantic coughing of the council.
Justice Rate addressed the distressed council with a cynical concern. “Are you alright? Would you like a break to prime your witness again, just in case he’s forgotten his lines?”
“No, thank-you, I will be fine.”
Pulling a painfully contorted face of frustration, anger and embarrassment the council returned to Henry. “You were saying?”
“Well, it could have happened to anyone. I mean Alf might have been silly enough to allow that berk onto the course but he could hardly been blamed for that damned squirrel could he? And it was plain bad luck that the ball hit the tee box and bounced off like that. Didn’t half fly too, straight across the car park. It was just unlucky that Argyll happened to be there with his big fancy car.”
Justice Rate took a deep breath and sighed loudly. “Let me see if I have got this quite clear. You are unable to read text that is a mere twelve inches from your face and yet these same eyes are able to detect a grey squirrel some distance away and follow the path of a tiny fast moving object. Is that correct?”
Henry tried to look offended. “What are you getting at?”
“I am getting at nothing. I am simple trying to clarify your statement.”
“No you’re not; you’re calling me a liar.”
“That would not be proper in my position. Let us just say that your description of reality is a little difficult to believe.”
“Huh! Don’t you call me a liar you stupid old bastard!”
“Any more comments like that and I will have you removed and fined for contempt. Now then, would you look at that table over there.” Justice Rate pointed to the table at which Alf and his council sat. “Could you describe what is on the table please.”
Henry glared at the Justice. “What is this some sort of damned party game?”
“This is the last time I will warn you about using bad language. Just tell me what you see on the table.”
Henry squinted yet again. The constant facial contortion was beginning to give him a headache. “Books.”
Justice Rate adopted his sneering look over the top of his glasses. “Books? That’s all?”
“Yes, books and bits of paper.”
“Nothing else, no pens or pencils or perhaps a wristwatch?”
“Oh yes. I didn’t know you were being so fussy.”
“So you can see a wristwatch, yes?”
Henry squinted even harder. “Mmm, yes.”
Justice Rate addressed Alf’s council. “Do you by any chance have a wristwatch on the table in front of you?”
“Er, no, but there’s something…”
“Thank you, a simple answer was all I required.” Justice Rate turned to look at Henry. “So you can see objects that are not really there. Clairvoyant are you?”
Henrys’ face adopted an alarming red flush. “I don’t have to stand for this!”
Justice Rate smiled in triumph. “You most certainly do not and I would be obliged if you would stand down. Unless of course there are any more questions?” This last remark was addressed to Alf’s council who shook his head and looked away in embarrassment. “Mmm, no, I didn’t think there would be somehow. Well thank you mister Munroe. That really was most entertaining.”
Henry stormed to the back of the court to where Vic and Bill were sitting but desperately wishing they were somewhere else. Muttering a loud but not clearly discernible oath Henry slumped noisily onto a chair next to his companions with such force that the chair toppled over backwards spilling Henry onto the floor.
Justice
Rate watched the whole incident with amusement and could not resist one last turn of the knife. “Mister Munroe, I would be obliged if you would restrain yourself.”
After that the case seemed to dissipate once more into legal jargon and was soon brought to a conclusion. Considering the importance of the decision the summing up by Justice Rate was extraordinarily brief. In truth he was impatient to deliver his judgement and the final piece-de-resistance. It was clear that whatever the actual merits of the case there was to be one winner, Justice Rate.
“Golf is a game with many serious attendant dangers and it is the responsibility of every player to take every reasonable measure to ensure the safety of those around them. There is a clear case here of negligence on the part of the defendant. The introduction of guest players to a private club is a potentially hazardous move which should be given every possible attention. A member introducing guests must take into account the rights of other members and in this instance their right not to be exposed to additional and unnecessary danger. I therefore find in favour of the plaintiff and award the sum of fifty pence in damages.”
From the back of the courtroom a loud shout emanated from the aghast Henry. “Fifty pence! Fifty bloody pence! All this fuss for fifty bloody pee! What sort of justice is that? Stupid old fool should be locked up.”
Justice Rate looked hard to the back of the court where Henry was ranting. “I have warned you about your behaviour Mister Munroe. I fine you you five pounds for your continued contempt of this court and its proceedings.”
Vic placed a restraining hand over the mouth of the furious Henry. “Calm down Henry before you get into any more trouble.”
As Justice Rate turned his back on the courtroom to leave no one saw the huge grin of pleasure that illuminated his face. It had been a good day. Justice had been done in every respect. His immense satisfaction at the way things had proceeded clouded Justice Rates’ clarity as to the possible impact of his finding. Following his decision every golfer struck by a ball was at liberty to pursue a case for bodily harm and seek compensation.