Law and Disorder by Tim Kevan

now all on email, each member of chambers is called by the clerks and told that ‘tea is served’. About fifteen people turn up in the main conference room each afternoon and it’s always quite an occasion. The tea itself comes in an urn on a trolley which is pushed into the room with great ceremony by a junior clerk. Despite the fact that the members collectively earn enough to buy their own factory, the chocolate biscuits are always treated as a great delicacy, probably due to the fact that chambers only provides the cheaper plain biscuits for client conferences.
    As a pupil, the lesson I learnt very early on was not to speak unless spoken to and even then to keep it as brief as possible. You’ve basically got a room full of egos sitting around on their own personal highs, usually after a day in court. Lets them wind down before getting back to their families. Lots of victories to report and anecdotes to regale and if anyone interrupts, never mind a pupil, then woe betide them. Which means that it’s the politest tea party in the world and the phrase ‘no, after you’ can be heard at least a few times a minute.
    Today, BusyBody learnt this lesson the hard way. HeadofChambers had been telling a story about some cross-examination in court today. ‘. . . At which point she burst into tears. A rare pleasure indeed.’
    He paused, and thinking he’d finished and wanting to muscle in BusyBody started a follow-up story, ‘I saw a similar thing . . .’
    She got only this far since HeadofChambers had restarted at almost exactly the same time with, ‘You know, it’s funny how . . .’
    BusyBody stopped in her tracks, still wanting to tell the story, and HeadofChambers took great pleasure in a bit of PupilSport.
    â€˜I’m very sorry, BusyBody. You were telling us how you saw something similar.’
    â€˜Yes, that’s right. I went to the Old Bailey a couple of days ago and one of the barristers there was having a whale of a time with one of the witnesses . . .’
    It was only at this point that BusyBody realised that all eyes were now on her and that if interrupting HeadofChambers was bad, not having an entertaining punchline to mitigate the interruption would be almost unforgivable. She suddenly looked a lot less confident. Meanwhile, HeadofChambers chased down his prey.
    â€˜Go on, BusyBody, do tell all. Sounds fascinating.’
    â€˜Well, er, yes, he was asking one question after another and getting all sorts of different answers. The witness didn’t even seem to know what time of day it was. Must have been on drugs or something. Anyway, she started getting all flustered after a while . . .’
    The mention of the word obviously reminded BusyBody of her own situation and her whimpering became disjointed. ‘So, er, yes. As I was saying. The barrister was catching her out. Lots of details. Then. Well, er, he told her she was a liar and she denied it and started crying.’
    She tailed off, defeated. ‘It was very gripping.’
    HeadofChambers was straight in with, ‘I expect you had to be there, BusyBody.’ Before adding, after an awkward silence from the whole room,‘And that is why pupils should always be seen and not heard.’
    Tuesday 21 November 2006
    Day 37 (week 8): Wigs and gowns
    Today TheBoss and I went off to the High Court to get the stamp of approval on a consent order following another settlement and for the first time I wore my wig and gown into court. What on
    earth is that all about? I mean, if you’re going to be dressing up in silly clothes there’ve got to be better options than something which went out of fashion over two hundred years ago. Why not go the whole hog and have say, Batman outfits for barristers and Robin ones for solicitors? I know I’d choose the caped crusader over someone with a horsehair wig in any fight. As for women, maybe Catwoman costumes would do on the basis that Wonder