Hatred Ridicule & Contempt: Alex Harris, #1

By David Cooper

Called upon to defend an acrimonious libel action on behalf of an important newspaper client, newly appointed law firm partner Alex Harris never once expected to find his efforts impeded by wanton disregard for ethics and blatant self interest that crossed all boundaries. Not only on the part of his opponents, but also those he should have been able to trust implicitly and without question…

What must he do to withstand the onslaught against his clients' interests – and his own? How far, in his battles both external and internal, would he be able to resist the pressure to sacrifice principles for expediency? To reject integrity and fall into line? To forego a rocky and twisted path in favour of a quiet life?

Hatred, Ridicule & Contempt. A high calibre courtroom drama with many unexpected twists as one man stands up against conformity and the easy way out.

• Language: English
• Publisher: David Cooper
• Release date: Jul 11, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301369928

David Cooper

I am a solicitor living and working in England. My first novel, legal suspense/thriller Hatred Ridicule and Contempt, was published in November 2011 and features a libel action told from the newspaper defendant's perspective, with a subplot reflecting some shocking law firm internal politics. I have moved to actual politics in my second novel Infernal Coalition, a legal/political suspense published in September 2012, where an underhand plan to defraud a solicitors' firm runs in parallel with a law professor's decision to strike back at the party machine that was evidently once keen to encourage her interest in becoming a Parliamentary candidate, only to exclude her in favour of one of their own kind.

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Prologue

Thursday 17 October 1991

We've decided to offer you a partnership.

From the tenth floor boardroom of Thornbury & Summerson, Solicitors, Alex Harris looked out across the central Birmingham skyline at the distinctive angles of the International Convention Centre. He tried hard to hide his feelings from the three members of the management committee on the other side of the table, but it was impossible to repress a grin altogether.

As you know, you almost made it last year, but we felt you weren't quite ready for it. We put it to the vote again yesterday, and this time it's good news for you.

Eric Billington paused, awaiting a response. His succession to the role of senior partner of the firm, two years previously, had not until now led to him issuing such an invitation and he was enjoying his moment. To his right, Barry Chatfield, the firm's managing partner, was smiling broadly.

I'm obviously very flattered, replied Alex, searching for a neutral way of breaking the silence. Have you offered anybody else one?

Yes, we've already invited Hillary Bishop to join us. If you'd been around yesterday afternoon, we’d have called you both in together. She accepted on the spot.

Intrigued, Alex glanced quickly in the direction of Warwick Thornbury, the firm's marketing partner, who had remained both unreadable and silent so far. Thornbury had never been any great fan of women in the law. By contrast, Alex knew for certain that the firm’s only two female partners, Felicity Moore and Rowena Earl, must have campaigned long and hard for his fellow associate Hillary. As if sensing Alex’s interest, Thornbury spoke.

Yes, it is a great honour for you both. Unlimited liability and no employment rights. Hard to know why any solicitor would aspire to a partnership these days.

Alex instinctively found a light hearted response.

Well, Warwick, I'm sure you're the last person I'd ever suspect of having his hand in the client account, so I think I'll take the risk.

A brief look of surprise flickered across Thornbury's face. But once a loud guffaw from Chatfield cut through the room, the others were not long in following his example. At that moment the door to the boardroom opened, revealing a slightly dishevelled figure. Alex’s head of department entered the room.

Sorry I’m late. You haven’t told Alex the good news already, have you?

The committee members exchanged glances, trying to hide their exasperation at his lack of punctuality and scruffy appearance.

Come in and share Alex’s moment of glory, Stewart. You might even persuade him to buy you a new alarm clock, now that he's going to be joining us.

Stewart Robbins sat down in an empty chair and adjusted his tie. He knew only too well what an effort it had been to persuade Alex not to leave the firm after last year's disappointment. Not that any associates should believe that a partnership at Thornbury & Summerson was theirs by divine right, however much they had impressed the partners on the fee earning side, but he knew that Alex had every reason to feel as if he had been unjustly overlooked on the previous occasion. Would that flickering resentment now be extinguished? Robbins listened as Billington suggested, somewhat unnecessarily, that Alex should think seriously about the implications of it all, waiting for his moment to chip in.

I've already told Alex that pit bulls need to show their friendly side now and again.

This was the cue for another booming laugh from Chatfield. Alex let the noise subside before finding a response. He had sometimes felt irritated that this nickname seemed to have stuck, but sooner a pit bull than an anteater, he thought, his eyes casually moving across to Thornbury’s unusually long nose.

Yes, but only when the last ankle's been bitten. Do you mind if I go and reflect in private now? It's quite a lot to take in all at once. The last bout of laughter subsided and the meeting broke up.

Alex felt an overwhelming urge to stare into space for an hour. Seven years at this firm, having joined just after qualifying, and having found out just how greasy the pole was. The historical reputation of the firm as an Oxbridge niche, despite not being based in London, had been one notable factor and Harris had been mindful of the fact that only one other partner - Tony Langham, who had been admitted to the ranks three years previously - had lacked a degree from an Oxford or a Cambridge college. Harris himself had never once regretted his Birmingham University years. Nor the fact that he had evidently achieved his goal, here and now, without compromising his own principles.

He allowed himself a brief moment of private self congratulation before reality descended again as he entered his office. The morning's post basket sat on his desk, the routine tasks of the day waiting to be tackled. The door opened behind him and his secretary entered, holding a telephone message sheet.

Hi, Serena. All well?

Yes, fine. Where've you been?

Harris paused for a moment and decided that now was not the time to share the secret. He'd always been more willing than most of his colleagues to talk discreetly to his secretary about his active matters and general office business - his idea of mutual teamwork, knowing she could be completely trusted - but this particular bulletin would have to stay under wraps a little longer. Even for Serena Miles. She could be told nearer the time, before the public announcement.

Upstairs with the management committee. Just some admin issues. Well, almost. Only half a lie, really.

Rather you than me. Can you call the editor of the Black Country Herald. He says it's urgent.

* * * * *

Wednesday 16 October, 1991

W.A.Holroyd Esq.

Editor

Black Country Herald

Dear Sir,

Our Client: John Joseph Donnelly (Jonjo Donnelly)

We act for the above named, who has drawn our attention to the news article in the Tuesday 10th September edition of your newspaper, headed Mystery Surrounds Chaos Of Aid Convoy and the feature published on Friday 13th September headed Warsaw Pact Drug Menace.

The article occupied almost the entire fourth page of the newspaper on that date, and its presence was initially pointed out to readers by the caption Own goal for Donnelly? - page 4 at the foot of the front page. Within the article, you have purported to report on the recent charity trip to Romania organised by our client.

We take the view that the article and the feature, both together and separately, are grossly defamatory of our client.

In the first place, you have quoted on a highly selective and tendentious basis from a small minority of the volunteers. By way of example: we were left hanging around in Bucharest for a whole day while Donnelly and his yes-men tried to work out where the first orphanage was - no one seemed to have a proper map; we were only trying to communicate with the kids, and all we heard from the organisers was criticism; It broke up in chaos. I wouldn't be surprised if the overland party ended up in Dracula's Castle.

This is a far from true picture of what took place. We literally cannot understand how your reporter, Vince Tedd, could claim to have spoken to a large number of the group, upon their return to the UK, only to gain an utterly misleading impression of what took place. By contrast, many of the volunteers, both those new to charity missions of this kind and those assisting for the first time, have gone out of their way to inform our client and his office how pleased they were to have played such a rewarding part in this mission.

We are far more concerned, however, by the contents of the subsidiary column at the far right-hand edge of page 4. In relying upon two more baseless quotes from unnamed members of the group, namely: -

…I’d already suspected that this wasn’t just a charity mission, before I heard it from the horse's mouth;

and: -

…that truck was almost as full on the way back. I couldn't understand all that secrecy before we hit the road home, but Donnelly just laughed it off and said I wouldn't understand:

your reporter went on to speculate as to why our client was minded to organise a mercy mission to Romania long after the horrors of the Ceausescu regime had been, in his words, consigned to history. He concludes: there remains an uneasy feeling among the group that there was more to the trip than met the eye. At the foot of that column was a photograph of one of the convoy lorries with the caption: Mysterious Contents?

It was only three days later that you ran the full-page documentary style feature Warsaw Pact Drug Menace in your Forum section, concerning the increasing availability of illegal hard drugs in areas of the Black Country, and the popularity of overland routes for their importation. The article refers to the popularity of former Eastern Bloc capitals - particularly Bucharest - as bases for the activities of Russian criminal gangs involved in drug trafficking. Most significantly, we note that Vince Tedd is named as one of the reporters who contributed to this feature. We understand that he has not previously been involved in features, as opposed to news, on any previous occasion.

It will have been only too clear to any reasonable reader of your newspaper that as a result of the two articles, our client has been associated with the trade in illegal drugs and the activities of drug barons who use Romania as a base for their wrongdoing. It is not out of the question that many of your readers will have concluded that our client arranged a sham mercy mission to assist in the smuggling of drugs into the UK.

Our client is a well known and much respected former professional footballer. His initial career success on the local football scene was soon followed by well deserved fame in the English First Division, and the honour associated with his then club record £1.25 million transfer fee. His brief spell in the soccer elite, including two international appearances, was sadly ended by injury, but this led in turn to new challenges for him in the world of public relations and charity work. The latter has been his overriding concern over the last five years.

It is difficult to express the shock and dismay felt by our client when he was made aware of the article and the feature, and the impact that they will undoubtedly have upon his present activities for national and international charities. If uncorrected, there is little doubt that our client will be, and will continue to be, subjected to hatred, ridicule and contempt.

To protect the interests of our client, we are already arranging for the preparation and service of High Court proceedings. Kindly inform us of the identity of any firm of solicitors authorised to accept service of proceedings on your behalf. We expect that our client would be willing to refrain from taking any further formal step, but only on the basis that: -

1. You agree to publish a full and unreserved apology, in terms to be provided by us, in the newspaper with equal prominence to the offending article, and with an introductory caption at the foot of the front page;

2. You agree to donate a substantial sum of money to a charity or charities of our client’s choice, the sum to be specified by our client;

3. You agree to meet our client’s legal costs in full.

We shall expect a satisfactory substantive response, either directly or via your own solicitors, within seven days, failing which we shall serve proceedings upon you without further notice.

Yours faithfully,

Watts & Watts.

* * * * *

Alex looked away from the letter that had unexpectedly intervened upon the good news of his partnership offer, just over fifteen months previously. He picked up the news article and flicked through its key passages.

‘Mystery Surrounds Chaos Of Aid Convoy

By Vince Tedd

It emerged today that the highly publicised charity mission to Romania organised by the former star footballer Jonjo Donnelly had descended into chaos and confusion almost from the moment that the volunteers set off on the long and arduous overland journey to orphanages said to be housing some of the remaining victims of the Ceausescu regime.

While the leaders and the more high profile members of the party had flown into Bucharest to await the arrival of the donated supplies, the party of students and freelance charity workers who accompanied the lorries as they crossed the Channel bound for Eastern Europe were left to tolerate basic conditions compounded by an attitude towards them that ranged from indifference to outright anger…

…We’d travelled all that distance, missing our stopovers and having to sleep rough in service stations, and the least we could have expected was some sympathy and encouragement when we arrived, said a disappointed Debbie Green, a first year history student at Keele University, especially as we just wanted to crack on with it. But we were left hanging around in Bucharest for the best part of a day while Donnelly and his yes-men tried to work out where the first orphanage was. No one seemed to have a proper map.

Nor was the evident lack of clear travel directions in Romania the only problem. Although the opportunity to interact with the orphan victims was very much one of the main reasons for some of the volunteers to sign up, this was - to their surprise - actively discouraged. Colin Skipton, a Save The Children gap year volunteer, was particularly upset at what took place on the visit to the orphanage at Dragalina. We were only trying to communicate with the kids. They seemed so excited to see us. And all we heard from the organisers was criticism. Just because they wanted to drop everything off and leave straight away.

…While it is plain that the aid convoy achieved its main objective, namely the delivery of the supplies and equipment to four institutions who had claimed to be in a critical state despite the much publicised efforts of the Romanian authorities to sweep away the horrors of the Ceausescu regime, the conclusion of the mission was no less haphazard. We’d been under the impression that Donnelly was coming back with us, said Jim Harding, a Bristol medical student. We waited another few hours, then we were given a message that he was staying in Bucharest longer and would catch up in Belgium for the channel crossing. It all broke up in chaos. I wouldn’t have been surprised if the overland party had ended up in Dracula’s castle.

Others went so far as to describe the mission as little more than an ego trip for the former professional footballer who has in recent years played much on the high profile nature of his charity work…

Mr Donnelly has not so far responded to invitations to comment upon these matters.’

Putting the article aside, Alex recalled his initial telephone call to Bill Holroyd, the editor, and his meeting that afternoon with an indignant Vince Tedd, the reporter criticised in the letter. This had led in turn, after a further discussion with Holroyd and some carefully worded advice, to Alex’s short but pointed response on behalf of the newspaper: -

Our clients deny liability. We are instructed to accept service.

Thursday 4 February 1993

Lennie Rose looked up eagerly from his desk, sensing that Alex was about to finish his phone call. He took his chance when the receiver was finally replaced.

Can we talk about the Black Country Herald trial now?

Alex glanced at his watch, impressed by Lennie’s dedication. Many a trainee solicitor would be half way through the first pint of the evening by now, but this one was evidently still keen to talk about work at nearly six o'clock. Not that he would necessarily turn down the chance of a beer or two later himself.

Have you read the court file?

Nearly all of it. Some of it's still over my head, though.

Lennie had joined Alex at the start of the week, after a four month stretch in the firm’s corporate department, to begin the process of obtaining litigation experience. As was the case with every trainee in the firm, he would rotate between departments to obtain the all round experience that the Law Society required before his admission as a fully qualified solicitor.

Don't worry about that. I'd have struggled with it when I was your age. Let's take the letter threatening proceedings first. That’s always going to be one of the first documents shown to the jury, along with the article. The other side went on at such length in the letter because they want to play on emotions. It wouldn't be any use to write the kind of letter you see on the word processor, the kind that threatens to sue if a debt isn't paid in seven days. No, in libel cases, you need to throw in the kitchen sink when you're threatening a newspaper.

OK, I see. But why didn't you reply in the same way?

Tactics. The journalist was convinced that the people who spoke to him had given him a fair account, and the editor didn't want us to reveal our hand too early. He thought Donnelly might have had that letter sent just for show anyway. I had to advise on whether there was any innuendo against Donnelly, with the article and the feature being so close together.

What about the firm representing him? Lennie asked. Are they big players?

Watts & Watts? No, they’re a small local firm much better known for plaintiff personal injury work. Do you ever listen to the local radio in the morning? No? Ever since the Law Society lifted the ban on solicitors advertising, some firms started using dreadful radio commercials to drum up business. When conditional fees came in, Watts & Watts were first off the mark. Just imagine someone singing 'no win no fee' to the chimes of Big Ben and carrying on in much the same way, and you should get the picture.

So how come they took on this case?

Good question. For all I know, Donnelly might have asked them to do this one on a conditional arrangement. As the radio advert said, no win no fee. Not that the rules theoretically allow that in these cases. No, I just felt that they were out of their depth. I hoped they might crawl back under a stone as soon as we stood up to them.

Obviously they didn't.

That's true, but they were bluffing in their letter. It took them another month before they issued the writ. Perhaps Donnelly had cold feet. On the other hand, they did go on to say what they wanted just before they served the writ.

Yes, I saw that. Two hundred grand and a grovelling apology!

Notice anything else interesting about that? said Alex, deciding to slip in a question of his own. Lennie hesitated.

Well, maybe the apology would have made people more suspicious about Donnelly?

Good point, but that's not what I had in mind. Did you notice the comment that Donnelly would be donating a large proportion of the two hundred grand to charity? The original demand only wanted a payment to charity, nothing to Donnelly. That's what really annoyed Bill Holroyd, the editor. Did you know he used to be editor at one of the national tabloids? Yes? Well, as soon as he saw that, he was on the phone ranting about bloody vultures. Even asked me to tell Watts & Watts that as a rugby league man, he'd be only too happy to give Donnelly a proper lesson in kicking balls.

Lennie sniggered. Christ, he sounds like a real character. What did you do?

I just faxed them back and said that we stood by our previous letter.

How come they sued him too, rather than just the paper?

I’m sure it’s only a gesture. Alex replied. In libel law, the buck stops with the editor over what goes out in print. That means he and the paper are jointly liable, at least in legal theory. But the paper’s always the main target, and if the worst comes to the worst the editor’s always indemnified by the paper.

At that moment the door opened. In came the marketing partner Warwick Thornbury. Can we have a word, Alex - oh, hello Lennie, surprised you're still here. How’s life in litigation? Bet you can't wait to come back to corporate, eh?

Lennie thought rapidly to find a diplomatic response. It's early days. I can't make my mind up just yet.

Alex quickly suppressed a scowl as Thornbury looked back in his direction. He had just noticed once more, with irritation, an unanswered memo from Thornbury headed 'Client Hospitality' which had been sitting on a far corner of his desk for over a week.

I'm in the middle of explaining the Black Country Herald trial to Lennie. If you're still around later, I could come and see you.

Thornbury nodded and left without another word. Alex immediately banished him from his thoughts and tried to turn back to the task in hand. But Lennie’s smirk was a temporary distraction.

Something funny?

Oh, nothing really. It’s just that when I was in corporate, I was allocated to sit with Melanie Marsh, one of their associates. Warwick was too grand, or as he put it too busy, to have a trainee of his own but he kept dropping in with jobs for me to do. There was one time when he came out with this piece of wisdom about corporate lawyers being deal makers, and litigators being deal breakers.

Alex thought for a moment. There’s another side to that one. I always say litigators are arse kickers. Work the rest out for yourself. Lennie suppressed a giggle and Alex went on.

OK, so they served their statement of claim. We put our defence in, and the court fixed a directions timetable. That's when we won the first battle. Did you notice that they split their complaint into two parts - the lack of organisation, and the drug business? They tried to change their tune. They asked the court for leave to drop their complaints on what the paper said about the convoy organisation, and demanded an order to strike out the corresponding sections from our defence.

Why did they do that?

They must have thought that Donnelly’s case on the drug business was stronger in isolation. Didn't want to give us a chance to bang home some decent evidence on the first head, and let it carry over into the second. It's more of a technical legal argument on that one, whether there was an innuendo. Anyway, we lost that one in front of the district judge, but won on appeal. Quite an irony, that. The judge decided that the case had to go forward to trial in full, because of the way that Watts & Watts wrote the original threatening letter. That will teach Jessica Watts to be such a migbin.

Migbin?

Mouth in gear, brain in neutral.

Lennie laughed again. Corporate was never this amusing. So why did you pay fifty grand into court after you exchanged witness statements?

Right. If you looked at Counsel's Opinion on the evidence, you’ll have seen what he said about how uncertain it was, even these days, to let a case like this go in front of a jury. Too much emotion, witnesses of unknown quality, and a semi-celebrity plaintiff. Even though he felt sure we'd win on the disorganisation issues, and that our chances on the innuendo were better than even, he still felt it might be too much for a jury to take on board properly. That's half the reason. It's also why we're having tomorrow's consultation with Tom Campbell QC. He’ll be leading for us at trial, and it’s his first chance to give us his view.

And the other half?

Business issues. The majority shareholder in the Black Country Herald, Charles Ballard, died six months ago, and his sons decided they wanted to go public and float the company. They thought they could realise some of their personal holdings and boost the business at the same time. Their merchant bankers thought that if this case was still active, it would give the market the wrong impression. That's why we ended up deciding to rattle Donnelly’s cage by offering him a way out. Not that Bill Holroyd was too impressed, but he soon came round when the Ballards reminded him about his share options.

Can you remind me how that works? It’s over a year since I studied litigation.

The payment into court? Don't they explain anything on the finals course these days? It's all down to trying to force a compromise. The defendant pays the money into the Court Funds Office and tells the plaintiff that’s what he's done. The plaintiff has the right to accept it within 21 days, and in broad terms that settles the case if he does. It's not quite so straightforward in libel, but that's the general picture. The main point is that the goalposts move against the plaintiff if he's determined to fight on for more. The risk for Donnelly here is that if he doesn't get more than fifty grand from the jury, he has to pick up the costs from then on. That’s because, for all practical purposes, the trial would have been futile for him. That would virtually wipe out his award in a case like this. You need to bear in mind that any off the record proposal like this is concealed from the judge, until the jury decide the case.

Yes, now that you put it like that, I seem to remember one of the big injury cases turning out like that. The victim was supposed to have ended up with nothing, just because of a trap in the rules.

Precisely. That's why I'd have expected Jessica Watts to tell Donnelly to take the money and run. But she just demanded two hundred grand again. Even the Ballards weren’t having that.

I'm glad they weren’t, when the trial’s only a couple of months away. It's not every trainee who gets to see something like that. Mind if I call it a day now? I'm getting thirsty. Lennie stood up and made for the door.

Good idea. I'd join you all, if I didn't have to go and see our illustrious marketing partner.

You could always bring him down the pub. That would be a miracle. Alex smiled as Lennie left the room.

Right, thought Alex, now for a tricky exercise. He headed out of the door, went up three flights of stairs, bore left, and made for the office that featured one of the most untidy desks in the firm. One of these days, he reflected, Thornbury might get round to putting his own house in order, before giving everybody else work to do with his tedious memos. There was, however, no chance any longer for him to ignore the latest one, given the visit less than half an hour previously, and Alex was in no doubt as to why Thornbury wanted a word at that precise moment.

Yes, Warwick? Alex entered and sat down, waiting for Thornbury to finish writing a note.

Ah, Alex. Client hospitality for the next quarter. Haven't had your reply yet. Just need to know what you're organising, and which of the events on the list you’ll be supporting.

Alex recognised what he had always thought of as the false beaming look. He felt certain that Thornbury had guessed his answer already.

The quick answer is nothing, and none, I'm afraid. I'm in no position to lose office time at the moment, with the Black Country Herald trial coming up, and none of the evening ones have any appeal to me.

Thornbury frowned. Oh, come on, Alex. You know what was agreed at the last full partners' meeting, and we can't just rely on the same people to do all the wining and dining. You must make more of an effort.

I don't see why. We all have our own talents. Coming up with bright ideas for junkets isn't one of mine. And as far as these dinners are concerned, you’ll never convince me that they do the slightest good. The people you keep inviting are always going to give us work …

No they're not, butted in Thornbury. We've got to keep them sweet.

Let me explain. They’ll always give us more work if we continue to do a good job. And I'll always be the first to fix up a lunch for a client to mark the occasion, provided that I feel that’s what I've done. It's just that I've no talent for the kind of event you’re talking about here. Alex pointed to the copy of the latest Client Hospitality memo that Thornbury had just fished out from a pile of papers.

What about joining the Boat Race trip, then?

Sorry, I wouldn't fit. Don't forget that unlike many others here, I'm not an Oxbridge man. And I still can't see the point of it. The kind of people who expect lavish corporate entertainment are probably playing every law firm at the same game. One of these days someone ought to call a halt to it.

Thornbury sighed. You're not doing yourself any good, Alex. There are still some people you should be winning over, you know.

Alex had long suspected that Thornbury had been lukewarm at best about his partnership offer. But he saw no point in talking about a possibility that he had put aside long ago as water under the bridge, especially as Thornbury was hardly likely to admit it openly.

Well, that’s my concern, Warwick. But just look on the bright side. When we've booted Jonjo Donnelly into touch, I'll bring Bill Holroyd in for lunch, and you can see for yourself that his bark is worse than his bite. A deal?

Thornbury just about managed to keep a straight face. He remembered the occasion when a stream of foul language in a pronounced Yorkshire accent from one of Alex's Black Country Herald meetings had come booming through the conference room wall into the adjoining room, where he had been putting the final touches to the completion of an assets purchase agreement in his clients’ presence.

Personally, I would have thought it somewhat more fitting to invite the Ballards, rather than Holroyd, given that they actually own the paper. Can't you see that they're just the kind who would love to come to one of these dinners? You really must learn to appreciate the value of the organ grinder compared to the monkey, Alex. You know what we might have got out of them …

I don't think so. Look, I can't hang around any longer. Susie was expecting me earlier tonight. Alex made as if to leave.

There's another point. Alex found no difficulty in predicting what was coming next. We haven't seen her at any of the firm's functions for ages. Surely she’d like to come along once in a while?

As I told you before, Warwick, Susie married me, not the firm. She's got a life of her own and she doesn't take kindly to anyone else telling her what to do. I’d better say good night.

Alex brought the discussion to an end by turning round and heading for the door, parting with a friendly wave before Thornbury could say another word. Behind him, Thornbury shook his head and picked up his diary. He noticed the entry for the management committee meeting early in the following week and smiled to himself.

* * * * *

Hi, Susie. Out of the hell hole at last.

Susie Harris looked up from a thick wad of manuscript and smiled. Thought you'd never get here. Who was it this time? She turned towards him for a brief kiss before Alex made to head upstairs.

The sublime and the ridiculous, some might say. I'll tell you later.

Dr Susie Harris returned to the task in hand. A senior tutor in Birmingham University’s law faculty, she took genuine pleasure in assisting students in that all too painful process of seeing the light through study. Even to the point of carefully reading and annotating all their essays, rather than simply giving a cursory glance. Her call to the Bar almost ten years earlier had only led to a swift decision to return to academic life after a short professional career before the courts. She had quit her tenancy in chambers not with any question of escape, she had always thought, but to return to her true vocation. Rather a professor than a QC. But first of all, back to the essays. She turned a page and grimaced. When would students ever begin to grasp the difference between unfair and wrongful dismissal?

So who's sublime today, then? An hour and a meal had passed. Their chocolate Labrador had finally given up on her daily quest for leftovers and lay sprawled at their feet.

My new trainee. Early days, but he seems far more clued up than the average. Spent all morning on a tricky discovery exercise, managed to get it right first time, and still wanted to talk about the Black Country Herald at six o'clock. I can only put it down to his academic background.

Lennie Rose? He was always one of my rising stars. I'm still surprised he made it through the doors at your place, though. Not exactly upper crust.

Didn't stop me. Alex’s self deprecation was not unknown to Susie but always in jest. Mind you, I joined on qualifying. No need to go through the student interview routine. Maybe it wasn't a vintage year for Oxbridge applicants when Lennie was looking for an offer of articles. And that brings me to the ridiculous.

Go on, surprise me.

Warwick Thornbury. Susie’s wince was audible. Did I ever tell you that Lennie's year of trainees composed a spoof memo once, comparing the firm to a zoo? I’m reliably informed that Thornbury ended up as The Anteater. They never realised there was more than one meaning that could have applied to that.

I can sense something rude coming up here.

Not too rude, I hope. Just seems rather fitting for someone who's always sticking his nose...

Stop it! Susie giggled,