‘May it please your Lordship,’ Jess began, ‘I appear for the husband, Henry Lang, in this case. My learned friend Miss Harriet Fisk appears for the wife, Susan Lang.’
They were in one of the large, cavernous old courtrooms in the Royal Courts of Justice which looked as though it could accommodate a vast throng of spectators; but because the case involved children, the court was sitting in chambers, and the public were excluded. The small group of people present, seemingly huddled together in the small central space in front of the judge, looked almost comical set against the imposing dimensions of the room. The large empty spaces produced an eerie echo whenever anyone spoke. It was not a relaxing atmosphere, and even though she now had considerable experience of court appearances, Jess felt nervous. Behind her sat the reassuring figure of her instructing solicitor, Geoff Bourne of Bourne & Davis, and his presence was a comfort. Jess had worked for the firm before becoming a barrister, and so knew Geoff well. He could be relied upon to inject calm into tense situations, but she wondered whether today that skill might be pushed to its limits.
Henry Lang, looking uncomfortable in his best grey suit and a red tie, sat next to Geoff. He was visibly agitated, and was doing his best to ignore his wife, who sat only a few feet away with her solicitor, Val Turner, behind Harriet Fisk. It would not take much interaction between the two of them to set things off. Geoff was determined not to allow that to happen, and Jess had confidence that he would keep Henry in check. But Jess had met Henry Lang in two lengthy conferences, and his distress about the proceedings he was involved in was very obvious. It was not unusual for parties to divorce cases to have strong feelings, and any lawyer doing that kind of work had to get used to dealing with emotional outbursts. But there was something about Henry Lang, an intensity she could not quite define, but something that ran deep and which worried her. She could only hope that he would not reveal whatever it was to Mr Justice Wesley. Raw emotions, understandable as they might be, did not impress a judge who had to decide which parent was more likely to be a stable, cooperative force in the lives of the children.
‘Yes, Miss Farrar,’ the judge replied, with a broad smile in the direction of each of the barristers in turn.
The Bar was a small profession, and it was not unusual for a judge to know the barristers who appeared in front of him quite well. But the connection in this case was especially close. Mr Justice Wesley had only been on the High Court Bench for about a year, and as Bernard Wesley QC he had played an important role in recruiting Harriet Fisk to join his chambers – the first woman to do so – and in encouraging Jess Farrar to become a barrister. There was a strong personal connection, too. Bernard and Amélie Wesley were sociable people and gave regular dinner parties; both Jess and Harriet had been their guests more than once.
This familiarity was a challenge, of course. Wesley knew that it was more than usually important for him to be – and to be seen to be – objective and unbiased. He also knew that to be objective and unbiased was difficult, if not impossible, certainly once he had started to read the case papers. Written affidavits, even though sworn to under oath, were not the same as live evidence given in court by witnesses who could be cross-examined. But to someone with a lifetime of experience of reading case papers, even an affidavit could have the ring of truth or untruth to it, and Wesley’s first impressions were rarely very wide of the mark. With the best will in the world, those impressions were already forming in his mind, which meant that he would have to take all the more care not to let them show.
‘My Lord, this is the husband’s application for custody of the two children of the family. Your Lordship should have affidavits from both the husband and the wife. May I ask whether your Lordship has had the opportunity to read them?’
‘I have,’ the judge replied.
‘I am much obliged. My Lord, it will be my submission that this is a case in which your Lordship would be greatly assisted by a welfare officer’s report. There is a huge conflict of evidence between the parties, which your Lordship will inevitably have to resolve, and I would submit that the full hearing of my application should await the report.’
She looked expectantly at the judge, who turned to Harriet Fisk. Jess resumed her seat.
‘I don’t disagree with my learned friend, my Lord,’ Harriet said. ‘Mrs Lang has no objection to a report being ordered, of course. The only application I am instructed to make today is for interim custody, pending the report. The children are with the wife, and it makes sense for them to remain with the wife until the matter is finally resolved.’
Jess sprang to her feet immediately.
‘That might make sense if the court could be assured that the children were not being left alone.’
‘Whenever my client has to go out, they are cared for by her parents, who live conveniently close,’ Harriet countered.
‘And if the court could be assured that the children were not being exposed to criminal influences,’ Jess added.
‘That is pure speculation,’ Harriet replied. ‘Your Lordship has heard no evidence about any criminal activity.’
‘It’s in the husband’s affidavit.’
‘On which I have not had the opportunity to cross-examine him. When I do, I am confident that your Lordship will reject those allegations as baseless.’
Bernard Wesley held up a hand.
‘Yes, yes, all right, I’ve got the point.’ He looked across to his right, where the welfare officer had been sitting, following the proceedings carefully. ‘Mrs Cameron, how long do you think you will need for your report?’
Wendy Cameron consulted her notebook.
‘My Lord, taking into account other work, and as we are about to run into Easter, can I ask for somewhere between six and eight weeks? I will speak to the parties today to make arrangements for an initial interview, which will save some time. But I can’t really guarantee a report any sooner than that.’
Mr Justice Wesley nodded.
‘Yes, very well. I’m going to ask the solicitors on both sides to keep in touch with the welfare officer and let the court know when it would be realistic to set a date for a final hearing.’
He paused.
‘Assuming, that is, that the parties are not able to reach an agreement. Needless to say, it is always in the best interests of the children if the parties can reach an amicable agreement about custody and access. I hope both sides will bear that in mind.’
This was something Wesley always said to parties in custody cases, but in this case, even as he made the request, he had little confidence that it would have any effect.
‘There remains the question of interim custody,’ the judge added. ‘Is there anything either of you would like to add before I give judgement on that matter? Bearing in mind that I have read the affidavits, but as yet have heard no evidence beyond the affidavits.’
‘Nothing from me,’ Harriet said.
‘No, thank you, my Lord,’ Jess added.
‘Very well.’
Bernard Wesley donned his reading glasses and arranged his papers in front of him on the bench.