I was in my room with Amir Saddique, who was reading me extracts from an article on a Spurs website, which suggested that they were about to buy a player from an unknown Brazilian team for forty million quid.
‘I mean forty million!’ exclaimed Amir. ‘That’s just crazy. What kind of business spends that much money on something as brittle and as untested as a Brazilian midfielder, it’s bonkers.’
Before I had time to tell him that at Huddersfield Town the nearest we get to a Brazilian is when one of the girls who serves behind the bar gets her bikini line done, the phone went and I was summoned down to the Senior Clerk’s room.
I felt fairly confident that I was not in any trouble, but still, the summons from Clem Wilson is always enough to make your heart beat with a more trepidatious rhythm. That rhythm turned to outright fear, however, when I went through the door and spied Mrs Murdoch and Kelly Backworth of Whinstanley and Cooper Solicitors, who you will remember have said they would not instruct me if I was the last barrister on earth.
I looked from face to face, my eyes finally resting on Clem. I felt sure that they were about to tell me that Porky Phi had been killed by her husband, and that it was all my fault.
Clem talked first and seemed oddly upbeat. ‘Look, Mrs Murdoch,’ he said, ‘young Mr Winnock here is absolutely petrified.’
She looked stony-faced.
Clem now smiled at me in a rather slimy way. ‘They’ve come to give you a brief,’ he said.
‘Eh?’
‘You recently represented someone called Shandra Whithurst,’ interrupted Mrs Murdoch.
I nodded.
‘Well,’ she said, ‘it turns out that Miss Whithurst was very happy with the way you represented her.’
‘Er, good,’ I stammered.
I was now utterly confused as to why Mrs Murdoch and Kelly Backworth were here talking about a shoplifter I managed to get off a few weeks earlier.
‘Well,’ continued Mrs Murdoch, ‘Shandra has a niece, called Tasha Roux.’
‘Yes?’
‘Who is currently in a police cell having been arrested on suspicion of murdering her partner.’
‘Right,’ I said, still unsure what this had to do with me.
‘She’s likely to be charged with murder in the morning, and, despite our best attempts, her aunt, Miss Whithurst, will only accept you as her barrister.’
‘Me?’
‘Yes.’
I tried to stifle a smile as the penny dropped and cascaded from my brain to my twitching lips. I looked over to Kelly, who seemed to be stifling a smile as well, though I might be wrong.
Clem interjected, ‘Yes, Mr Winnock, I’ve told Mrs Murdoch that you’ll be quite happy to be the junior in a murder case, won’t you?’
Would I? Too bloody right I would. My first murder. This is precisely why I came to the Bar in the first place. This was a proper case!
Good old Shandra Whithurst. God bless her. I felt like laughing out loud, but thankfully realised that would be wholly unprofessional.
Mrs Murdoch continued, ‘Of course, you’ll be applying for a QC to lead you.’
‘Of course.’
‘Good, and Kelly here will be the fee earner from our place doing the brief. You two can start work on it this afternoon, if that’s okay?’
I smiled now. I couldn’t help it.
‘It’ll be a pleasure,’ I said, ‘but, Mrs Murdoch,’ I ventured, ‘I thought that you wouldn’t instruct me if I was the last barrister on earth. I thought I was NIHWTLBOE?’
The old solicitor scowled. ‘For reasons best known to her, Mr Winnock, Miss Shandra Whithurst thinks that you are the only barrister on earth.’
I smiled again as Mrs Murdoch bade us all good day and left the room. I looked at Kelly – Christ, she was gorgeous.
‘What’s it all about then?’ I asked her.
‘She’s killed her boyfriend, probably in self-defence.’
Brilliant. A proper issue in a murder trial. This was exactly what I’d been waiting for ever since I’d sat down with my mum and dad and watched Kavanagh QC on the telly all those years ago. This would be my biggest case yet. Thank you, thank you, thank you, Shandra Whithurst.