Chapter Eleven

Post Mortem

 

The judge went on with the next case and Roger, very hot and very red in the face, gathered up his papers and went out of the Court. There he was joined by Mrs Newent.

‘What’s all that in aid of?’ she asked. ‘Why haven’t I got my divorce? What’s happened?’

‘It’s a little difficult to explain,’ said Roger.

‘There’s nothing difficult about it at all,’ said Mrs Newent. ‘It’s what comes of having schoolboys to do one’s case for one. I ought to have known from the start. How old are you, anyway?’

The humiliation was so great that Roger could have burst into tears. He felt like throwing his brief at Mrs Newent, running to the Embankment and jumping into the Thames. What was the good of anything? He wished the earth would swallow him up.

‘Well, how old are you?’ persisted Mrs Newent. Even at that stage of his misery Roger remembered for an instant the image he had built up of Mrs Newent before he met her, the poor girl abandoned by her callous husband. Now he was all on the side of Mr Newent. He wondered how he had stood her for as long as he had.

‘Lost your voice?’ said Mrs Newent. ‘Not very much to lose anyway,’ she added.

This at last spurred Roger into action.

‘If you’re not satisfied with the way I am doing your case, madam,’ he said, with as much dignity as red-faced twenty-one could muster, ‘you can ask your solicitors to instruct someone else to continue it. I do not propose to stand here listening to your abuse. Good morning.’

He left Mrs Newent with Mr Smith and went hurriedly to the robing-room. He still felt it was the end of the world. But, as he went, he went over in his mind the way the case had gone before Judge Ryman. What had he done wrong? Well, he had made mistakes once or twice, but they wouldn’t have made any difference, surely? He had persuaded the judge that Herod and Herod applied – well, if he hadn’t persuaded him, he’d at any rate mentioned Herod and the judge had gone into the matter. The judge had decided the first point of law in his favour. How on earth could he have imagined the second point would arise? Would anyone else have thought of it? Besides, the judge had thanked him for his help. He knew quite well he hadn’t given any help, but the judge must think well of him to say it. But then the word ‘schoolboys’ started ringing in his ears again and he again had an urge to jump into the Thames.

‘Warm, isn’t it, sir?’ said the attendant who helped him off with his gown.

‘Yes,’ said Roger. ‘Very warm. Thank you.’

As he disrobed, he prayed that neither his mother, nor Sally nor Joy would be at the entrance to the Courts when he got out. He wanted to go and lock himself up somewhere out of sight of everyone. So this was the mighty Roger Thursby Esq, QC! Called a schoolboy by his own client! He looked through the window of the door of the robing-room to see if the coast was clear. It seemed to be. So he went out hurriedly and rushed across the Strand in almost as fast a time as Mr Grimes usually put up. He went back to chambers.

‘Get on all right, sir?’ asked Alec.

‘I don’t know. It’s been adjourned.’

‘When to?’

‘Fourteen days, I think.’

‘Why was that, sir? Witness missing?’

‘No – I think he wants some point argued further.’

‘I understand, sir,’ said Alec, an expression into which Roger read a wealth of meaning which was not in fact there. As he started to go into his room, Henry came into the clerks’ room.

‘Hullo,’ he said. ‘How did you get on?’

And then before Roger could reply, he went on: ‘Like to come and have a chat with me about it?’

Roger gratefully accepted and went into Henry’s room, where he told him as best he could what had happened in Court.

‘My dear chap,’ said Henry, ‘I think you did damned well. Much better than I should have done at your age. I shouldn’t have been able to open my mouth. Jolly good show. There’s nothing to be depressed about. And you seemed to have got on with old Ryman all right. He enjoys an argument. All right, we’ll give it him.’

‘I shall never be able to argue,’ said Roger miserably. ‘I’ve made a mess of it. I’m hopeless.’

‘My dear old boy,’ said Henry, ‘if you could have seen me coming away from my first County Court cases almost sobbing, you wouldn’t worry half so much. I used to lose cases which quite definitely ought to have been won. All the way home I used to try to convince myself that there was nothing else that I could have done, but I knew darned well there was. As far as I can see, you did everything you could and you’ve got an adjournment to get ready for the argument. That’s very much better than I did in my first case.’

‘I can’t think you did worse,’ said Roger.

‘I did indeed,’ said Henry. ‘Mark you, it’ll happen to you too. Or you’ll be extraordinarily lucky if it doesn’t. My only point is, it hasn’t happened this time. Your case is still on its feet. You can win it yet. Or maybe in the Court of Appeal, if necessary.’

‘Me in the Court of Appeal?’ said Roger.

‘Why not?’ said Henry. ‘They’ll be very nice to you.’

‘They’ll need to be,’ said Roger. ‘But what was your first case?’

‘Just a simple little accident case. Absolutely plain sailing. One just couldn’t lose it. The defendant’s driver had turned down a street which had stalls in the road and had then hit one of the stalls, damaged it and some of the stock. After the accident he said he was sorry but he’d misjudged the distance. Said that to a policeman. So there couldn’t be any doubt about it. He was prosecuted for careless driving and fined. It was a sitter. The only question was the amount of damages and there I’d got evidence to prove everything up to the hilt. It was given to me because it was reckoned it was a case that couldn’t be lost. The only reason the defendants were fighting it was because the insurance company doubted the amount of the damage. And, as I’ve told you, I could prove every penny of the damages and I did. The judge was quite satisfied about the damages. Oh, yes, it was the perfect case for a beginner. Excellent experience and no one could come to any harm. You couldn’t lose it.’

Henry paused for a moment. ‘I lost it all right,’ he went on. ‘I lost that perfect, unanswerable, copybook case. I lost it. The defendant’s driver does a man twelve pounds worth of damage and what does the plaintiff get for it? The privilege of paying about twenty pounds costs in addition to bearing the whole of his own loss. And why? Because he briefed me. That’s why. Simple enough.’

‘But how did you come to lose it?’

‘You may well ask. I’ll tell you. No one actually saw the collision. The plaintiff heard a bang, looked round and saw his stall on the ground with the lorry half over it and half the stock ruined. Counsel for the defendant objected to the evidence of what the defendant’s driver said to the policeman on the ground that the driver wasn’t the agent of the defendant to make admissions. I didn’t know what that meant but the judge said it was quite right and wouldn’t allow that bit of evidence to be given. I wasn’t so worried because, after all, the lorry had run into the stall, hadn’t it? At the end of my case counsel for the defendant got up and calmly submitted that his client had no case to answer. No one had seen the accident, the driver might have had to swerve to avoid a child or a cyclist or anything. It was for the plaintiff to prove that the accident was due to the negligence of the defendant’s driver. Well, although it was my first case, I thought I’d done rather well, because I’d brought down a case to quote to the judge if necessary. It was called Ellor and Selfridge and in it the Court held that where a motorist knocked somebody down on the pavement that was prima facie evidence of negligence as motor cars don’t usually go on pavements. It was, therefore, for the motorist to show how he got there.

‘“What do you say to that?” said the judge to my opponent.

‘“The answer to that is quite simple,” was the reply. “In Ellor and Selfridge the accident was on the pavement. I agree that lorries do not usually go on pavements, but here the accident was on the roadway. Lorries do go on roadways. It’s the only place they do go. After the accident the lorry was still on the roadway. I don’t complain about the plaintiff having a stall on the roadway, but he has it there at his risk. If an accident happens to it while it’s in the roadway, he’s got to prove that the accident was due to someone’s fault. The mere fact that the accident happened doesn’t prove that. As I said, it might have been due to some emergency.”

‘“Well, what do you say to that?” said the judge to me. I stammered and stuttered and got very red in the face. I said everything I could think of. I knew that if I could ever get the driver into the witness box I was bound to win because he would have to admit that there wasn’t any emergency and that all that had happened was that he’d misjudged the distance. The thought that the defendant was going to get away with it was horrible. I did not become hysterical, but I felt like it. I said the same thing over and over again. The one thing I did not say was that if a lorry runs into a stationary stall on the highway, such an accident is normally caused by the fault of the lorry driver and it is therefore for him to explain how the accident happened, just as much as if the accident had happened on the pavement. The same would apply to an empty car which was standing stationary in broad daylight in the street. If it’s run into it’s obviously for the person who runs into it to explain how it happened. But I didn’t say any of this, or think of it, till I was halfway back to the Temple. I just talked nonsense until suddenly the judge said: ‘“Yes, I’ve got your point, Mr Blagrove. Do you want to add anything?”

‘Well, of course, I sat down on that and the judge proceeded to give judgment against me.

‘“Ask for leave to appeal,” said the solicitor’s clerk behind me.

‘I did as I was told.

‘“No,” said the judge, “it’s a plain case. I’m sorry for the plaintiff, but I can’t let my judgment be blinded by sympathy. Leave to appeal refused.”

‘Well, you should have seen the plaintiff outside the Court after that. He was hopping mad at first. I don’t blame him. And then he said something which I’ve never forgotten – he said it just as I was leaving him. He’d calmed down by then.

‘“Hadn’t you better do a bit more studying, boy, before you do your next case?” he said.

‘He said it in quite a kindly tone. That made it worse. “I can’t think,” he went on, “the law’s such an ass as all that.” Well, of course, it isn’t, but I was. And when I suddenly realized in the train on the way home what I ought to have said, I felt like jumping out on to the line, I can tell you. Then, of course, I started to explain to myself that it wouldn’t have made any difference. One always ends up that way, but I knew it would really.’

‘I must say, it’s a relief to hear that,’ said Roger, and he then told Henry what Mrs Newent had said.

‘Of course, it is pretty dreadful for her to be represented by me,’ he went on, ‘when one comes to think of it. And I do look so young, too.’

‘Well, you know my views on that,’ said Henry. ‘I don’t think anyone should be allowed to address a Court until he’s read for a year in chambers. But that isn’t the case. And I’m quite sure you did as well as anyone with a first brief could have done. And you can still win, you know.’

‘You’ve cheered me up no end,’ said Roger. ‘I suppose everyone feels like this to begin with.’

‘Of course they do. We’ll look up the point together if you like. I’ve nothing to do. Let’s go and have lunch and then go to the Bar Library.’

Roger felt much better at the end of the day, but on the way home he wondered what his mother and Joy and Sally had thought of him. He found a note from Sally when he got home.

Well done, [it said]. Can I come and see you?

She ought to have been doing the case, thought Roger. She’d have told Mrs Newent a thing or two if she’d spoken to her like that. But then Mrs Newent wouldn’t have spoken to her like that. There wouldn’t have been any need to.

‘You were simply perfect,’ said his mother. ‘I was so proud of you. You were quite the best-looking in the row.’

‘How did you think I got on though?’

‘Well, of course, darling, I don’t know anything about law, but the judge seemed to do all the talking really. I suppose that’s what he’s there for.’

‘I did say something, Mother, and, if you remember, the judge thanked me in the end.’

‘Yes, I thought the judge awfully nice. I really would have liked to ask him to tea.’

‘Mother,’ said Roger in horror. ‘You mustn’t do anything of the sort. Promise you won’t?’

‘Of course, I won’t, if you’d rather I didn’t. But I would just like to drop him a note to thank him for being so sweet to you.’

Roger was very, very fond of his mother and he would never have cheerfully throttled her, but it was about the last straw. That’s all she’d seen. The judge being sweet to him. And the worst of it was that it was no doubt true. The judge had been sweet to him and he looked like a schoolboy. All the good work done by Henry for a moment seemed to have been wasted. He was back where he started. But then he realized that his mother might write to the judge. So he had to say something.

‘Mother’, he said, ‘you must promise not to do that either. The case is still going on. It would be most improper. You might get sent to prison and I might get disbarred.’

Just for the moment the idea of getting disbarred didn’t seem too bad. He would go abroad and do whatever one does there.

‘I was only joking, darling,’ said his mother. ‘You mustn’t take everything so seriously. What a nice woman Mrs Newent seemed. I was so sorry for her.’

‘Mrs Newent,’ said Roger deliberately, ‘is a bitch.’

‘Roger!’ said his mother. ‘If that’s the sort of language you are going to be taught at the Bar, I’m not sure that it’s a good thing I let you start. Really, you quite took my breath away. It’s not at all a nice word to use.’

‘It’s the only word,’ said Roger, ‘with which to describe Mrs Newent.’

‘I can’t think why you say that,’ said his mother. ‘Of course I didn’t hear or understand half of what was said, but as far as I could make out, her husband had run off with one of the boarders. No, don’t try and explain it, darling, I hate these legal technicalities and the sordid things that some husbands do. Not like your father, Roger. He was a very fine man. I thought you looked just like his pictures as a boy when I saw you in Court.’

‘Thank you, darling,’ said Roger. ‘I’m so glad you were pleased. Now I must use the phone.’

He telephoned Joy.

‘Roger, Roger darling. I was so thrilled. You were wonderful. I want to come right round now and kiss you, I’m so pleased. I never dreamed you’d be anything like that. You were quite perfect. And the judge thanking you at the end and everything. I’m so happy for you, I just don’t know what to do. You’ll have people coming to you to do their cases for them from everywhere. I’m sure Uncle Alfred will be terribly bucked. Oh, Roger – you are so clever. How do you do it?’

Knowing in his heart what the truth of the matter was, Roger did not take as readily to this eulogy as a young man might have been expected to do.

‘Thank you very much, Joy. I don’t think it was as good as all that, really.’

‘Oh, but Roger, it was, it was. And, d’you know, the woman sitting next to me asked if I knew who you were. I said you were one of the most brilliant of the younger men.’

‘Oh, you shouldn’t have, Joy, really. What did she say?’

‘Well, I didn’t actually catch what she said. She had to speak awfully quietly, as you know, or we’d have been turned out. But I know she was impressed. Probably she’s got a case coming on and she might even bring it to you. She was quite good-looking, Roger – but I shan’t be jealous – not after last night.’

Oh, Lord! thought Roger. Last night. She hadn’t forgotten. No, she wouldn’t. But after all, I must be fair. She did get me the brief – this bloody, bloody brief, he suddenly said to himself. No, I must control myself. I wonder what Uncle Alfred thinks about it all.

At that moment Uncle Alfred, that is, Alfred Merivale, senior partner in Thornton, Merivale & Co, was having a word with his managing clerk, Mr Smith, who had been in Court with Roger.

‘Don’t make such a fuss, George,’ he was saying. ‘We’ll just take in a leader next time.’

‘Who’s going to pay for it, sir?’

‘Well, you aren’t. So why should you worry?’

‘Mrs Newent won’t. She’s livid, sir. Says it’s our fault.’

‘You are a miserable devil, George. I don’t know how I’ve stood you for so long. Still we’ve got to have someone with a long face in the office. It’s good for funerals and people drawing wills, I suppose. How d’you say the young man did?’

‘He was quite hopeless, sir. I’ve seen some pretty good messes made of cases in the past, but that beat anything. My sympathies were all with the client, I can tell you. If I’d had someone appearing for me like that I think I’d have gone mad.’

‘No one is appearing for you, George. And the case isn’t over, anyway. Has he got a good presence, d’you think? You can’t expect him to say anything yet.’

‘Really, sir,’ said George. ‘I do think you ought to study the client a bit more. That case might have been lost today.’

‘Well, it wasn’t, George, it wasn’t. I believe you’d have been pleased if it had been. No, I think I did make a slight mistake, but fortunately it’s not too late to mend. We ought to have had someone to lead him in the first instance. After all, it was a discretion case and occasionally they go wrong. Yes, I ought to have thought of that. But it’s so seldom, that I’m afraid I took a chance on it. And no harm’s been done, George, no harm at all. On the contrary, I’ve learned a lesson. We must give him someone to lead him each time to begin with.’

‘Why on earth d’you want to have him at all, sir?’ grumbled George.

‘If a very old great-uncle chooses to pander to his very sweet little great-niece – at his own expense, George – at his own expense, what the devil does it matter to you? It won’t cost the client a penny more and the young man will get a nice lot of experience and quite a few guineas.’ He paused for a moment and thought. ‘Yes, George,’ he went on, ‘you’re quite right to be down on me for taking a chance with this case, but all’s well that ends well and only good has come of it. He’s very young at the moment. D’you think we’ll ever be able to send him into Court by himself?’

‘He’s quite well built,’ said George. ‘He could carry the books if the clerk’s missing.’

Meantime, Joy was continuing to compliment Roger on his magnificent performance and she went on so long and so ecstatically that in the end Roger almost began to wonder if he had been so bad after all.

‘I can’t manage just now, Joy, dear – but could we meet for a drink or a walk or something about nine?’

‘Where, darling?’

‘The Pot-hole?’

‘I’ll be there, darling. Oh, Roger, I am so happy for you.’

A few minutes later he telephoned Sally.

‘Thank you for your note, Sally. It was very sweet of you. Could I come and see you?’

‘Of course. Mother’s out at present. Excellent opportunity.’

He went round at once. She opened the door to him.

‘Glad you’re still in one piece,’ she said.

‘What d’you mean?’ said Roger. He was still under the influence of Joy’s remarks.

‘Well, you did have a pretty rough time, didn’t you? I thought you took it very well. I’d have wanted to run away.’

‘You think I was rotten, I suppose,’ said Roger, a trifle sulkily.

‘Oh, Roger, don’t be silly. I tell you, I don’t know how you stood there at all. It was dreadful for you. Personally, I don’t think it should be allowed.’

The spell was broken.

‘That’s what Henry says,’ said Roger.

‘Who’s Henry?’

‘Henry Blagrove. A chap in Grimes’ chambers. I’ve told you about him, surely?’

‘Oh, that one, the nice one. Yes, you have. Well, I’m glad someone else agrees with me. I shall get quite swollen-headed soon.’

‘You mean about what the judge said?’

‘I must say I was rather pleased, after our little talk. But really, Roger, I thought you took it splendidly. I thought you were going to break down once, but you didn’t.’

‘Really, Sally, there is a limit, you know.’

‘Be honest, Roger. Didn’t you feel like dropping your brief and running for it?’

Roger laughed.

‘Why are you always so right, Sally? I’ve never known anyone like you – not any girl, anyway. Henry’s rather like you as a matter of fact – except – except–’

He didn’t finish the sentence.

‘Except what, Roger?’

‘Oh, nothing – forget it.’

‘Except that he’s kinder, Roger? Was that it?’

Roger said nothing. She was right again.

‘But you see, Roger,’ said Sally rather sadly, ‘Henry doesn’t happen to be in love with you.’

‘Oh, Sally,’ said Roger, ‘I wish I knew if I loved you, I really do. Why don’t you tell me if I do? You’re always right. I’ll believe you if you tell me.’

‘I don’t want to be right this time, Roger,’ said Sally.

Neither of them spoke for a time after that. Roger broke the silence with: ‘D’you think I’ll ever improve, Sally?’

‘D’you want to know what I really think?’

‘Yes, of course,’ he said quickly and then: ‘No – I’m not sure if I do.’ He thought for a moment. ‘Better get it over,’ he went on, ‘let’s have it. I can always sort football coupons.’

‘Roger,’ said Sally slowly, ‘I think you’re going to be a great man.’

‘Sally, you don’t, you don’t really?’ he said, fantastically excited, and then he suddenly choked. He’d have wept if he’d tried to say another word.

‘But,’ Sally went on quite calmly, ‘there’s a long way to go yet and you’ll have to work terribly hard. You’ll have a lot of disappointments, particularly because you’re so young and don’t understand anything yet. But you will, you will – and, barring accidents, you’ll go to the top. I shall be quite pleased I once knew you.’

‘Oh, Sally,’ he said and burst into tears.

He went down on his knees and put his head in her lap. She stroked it gently.

‘I love you, Sally, I love you. I know I do.’

‘You don’t, Roger, dear, though I love to hear you say it – and I’ll always remember that you did–’ She stopped for a moment as though deliberately pigeon-holing the memory – then she went on. ‘Roger dear, dearest Roger, you don’t love anyone at the moment – except Roger.’

They remained for a little while in silence.

‘Am I as bad as that?’ he asked eventually. ‘Just a selfish cad not minding who I hurt?’

‘No, of course not,’ she said more brightly. ‘But you’re young and ambitious and you like a good time too. And that’s all there is to it. And why shouldn’t you be like that? It’s perfectly natural. Now, dry your eyes and give me a nice kiss. I won’t read anything into it.’