Errors of Judgment(2)

The note of finality in Mr Justice Cable’s voice as he moved to his conclusion brought Leo back to the present.

‘—and so, in my judgment on the evidence before me, the balance of convenience comes down firmly on the side of Kirkbride. Provided that Mr Davies is able to confirm the plaintiffs’ cross-undertaking in damages, I therefore continue the injunction against the defendants until trial.’ He glanced at Leo. ‘I will hear counsel as to the form of the order and any other directions that may be required as to costs.’

Leo rose to his feet. ‘I believe my learned friend Miss Lightfoot has in fact prepared a draft.’

‘If you are content with the form of injunction, Mr Davies, is there anything else apart from costs?’

‘We would respectfully ask for the plaintiffs’ costs in cause, My Lord.’

The judge glanced enquiringly at Miss Lightfoot, then nodded. ‘Very well. I so order.’

There was a rustling of papers and gowns, and everyone filed from the courtroom with a Friday-afternoon sense of relief. Leo paused in the corridor to exchange a few words with Alison Lightfoot, who had caught his attention at the outset of the hearing by the gentle, grave voice in which she’d made her submissions – a pleasant change from the strident delivery of most barristers – and by her dark, understated good looks and cool competence. He was just debating whether or not to ask her out for a drink, when a voice hailed him. ‘Leo, you old bastard!’

The man striding across the corridor towards them was well over six feet tall, with a broad, smiling face, and the gone-to-seed physique of an ex-public school prop forward. The greying fair hair curling from beneath his well-worn wig looked as though it could do with a good trim, his frayed robe had slipped from his shoulders and was riding somewhere around his middle, and he clutched a haphazard bundle of papers in ham-like hands. Jamie Urquhart, despite his shambolic appearance, possessed one of the shrewdest minds at the London criminal Bar. His formidable forensic skills, coupled with a courtroom manner famous for its charm and incisiveness, had won him considerable success over the years, and he was much sought after, particularly by well-heeled clients caught on the wrong side of the law. He and Leo had met as students at Bar School, and their friendship stretched back almost thirty years. They tried to make a point of meeting regularly, but the summer break and a string of cases meant that they hadn’t seen one another since before Easter.

Leo greeted Jamie warmly, and introduced Alison, hoping she would hang on a little while longer, but she took Jamie’s arrival as a cue to leave, murmuring something about getting back to chambers. Leo watched her go with faint regret.

‘Haven’t seen you in months,’ said Jamie. ‘How are things?’

‘Not bad. Somewhat overwhelmed with work, in fact. How about you?’

‘Can’t complain on the work front,’ said Jamie, in the darkly confident voice which had been used to such persuasive effect on countless juries. He nodded towards the small knot of people conferring outside the courtroom opposite. ‘Just finished a three-month fraud trial, and my client loves me. Which he should do, considering I’ve got him off money-laundering charges which could have seen him doing a fifteen-year stretch in Belmarsh.’ Jamie lowered his voice to a murmur. ‘He’s actually an extremely dodgy Cypriot, but I have to go and schmooze him right now. How about a drink in an hour or so? Balls Brothers, six o’clock?’

‘See you there,’ said Leo.

In the robing room Leo took off his wig, bands and gown, and crammed them into his red silk bag. When he had changed, he made his way down the echoing marble corridors and stairs, exchanging greetings with passing lawyers of his acquaintance, nodded goodnight to the doorman, and stepped out into the late afternoon air. He saw Alison a few steps ahead of him at the pedestrian crossing, and caught up with her.

‘Sorry we were interrupted back there,’ he said, slinging his bag over one shoulder as they crossed the Strand together. Alison said nothing, merely gave him a smiling glance. Amazingly pretty eyes, thought Leo. ‘I had intended to ask if you were free later this evening. For dinner, perhaps?’ The drink with Jamie wouldn’t last more than an hour, assuming he was hurrying home to his family.

They reached the other side of the road, and paused at the gate to Middle Temple Lane.

‘No thanks. I’m afraid I’m busy.’

‘Perhaps next week?’

‘I have a big case starting on Monday. I’m sorry – I don’t think it’s going to leave me much free time.’

Leo knew when to beat a graceful retreat. ‘OK, then,’ he smiled. ‘Have a good weekend.’ And he headed through the gate.