Errors of Judgment(96)

‘Why mention it to me? You don’t usually involve me in any of your schemes, business or otherwise.’

‘Don’t whine, Julia. I mention it to you because you still have a little thing for Anthony – don’t pretend you don’t. And he probably does for you. You were the love of his life, after all. Or so he said, in his somewhat callow way. I’m sure you can persuade him that gambling with the big boys is right up his street.’

‘I’ll think about it.’

‘Please do.’ Piers took his hand away and closed his eyes again, and the taxi purred on its way to Holland Park.

When the Judicial Appointments Commission convened the following week to review the various applications to the High Court Bench, its chairman, Sir Alastair Flockton, was not in the best of humours. His irritable bowel syndrome, to which he was a martyr, was manifesting itself in bursts of flatulence which he was trying with great difficulty to contain. The medication which he had taken didn’t always work, and holding in wind made his insides roil and bubble in a most unpleasant way. Concentration was not easy.

‘So now we come to …’ He glanced down the list. ‘Ah yes, Leo Davies.’

‘An excellent candidate, in my view,’ observed Ian Cole, himself a High Court judge.

Lady Justice Daphne Hunter nodded. ‘I know the candidate. I believe he is of absolutely the right calibre. And he performed exceptionally well in the structured discussion stage of the assessment process.’

‘He certainly has all the right credentials,’ agreed Baroness Paradeep. ‘And I think his background helps, too – state school, and so on. The judiciary needs to demonstrate that people from disadvantaged backgrounds can rise in the profession.’

Dudley Callow OBE, a former commander of the Royal Anglian Regiment and one of the lay members, gave her a sharp look. ‘Disadvantaged? He’s fifty. He went to a grammar school. He’s not exactly a product of New Labour educational policies.’

Mervyn Woodall thought he could see where Baroness Paradeep was tending, and assumed some politically correct qualities were being sought. ‘He’s Welsh. Doesn’t that help?’

‘In what way?’ enquired Sir Alastair, shifting a little in his chair. His stomach growled audibly.

Mervyn blinked. ‘Aren’t they classed as a minority? I mean, isn’t being Welsh some form of …’ He gestured vaguely.

‘It’s not classed as a disability. Not yet,’ murmured Gregory Hind.

‘To come back to the point,’ said Lady Daphne firmly, ‘I think Mr Davies’ experience and professional qualities speak for themselves. I really don’t see how his application can be faulted.’

There were general murmurings of agreement, and Sir Vivian sensed his moment had come. He leant forward. ‘Am I not right in thinking that the issue of good character is one which is just as important as professional attributes?’ There was a silence. ‘In fact,’ went on Sir Vivian, ‘if I may quote from guidance specifically offered to candidates on the JAC website, “public confidence will only be maintained if judicial office holders and those who aspire to such office maintain the highest standards of behaviour in their professional, public and private lives”.’ He laid careful emphasis on the penultimate word.

Magdala Keel, a lay member, and co-founder of an activation forum for gender equality, spoke for them all. ‘I’m not quite sure what you’re saying.’

Sir Alastair, his IBS momentarily forgotten, added, ‘If there are matters which you feel prejudice his application or disqualify him in some way, they really should be made known to the committee.’

Julian Hooper, a bookish, well-meaning QC who both liked and admired Leo, came to what he thought was Leo’s aid. ‘Look, if you’re talking about rumours about Davies’ private life, I frankly don’t think they’re relevant.’ All eyes swivelled to Julian. ‘I say rumours, but actually certain facts have been pretty well known to most people for some time.’ Julian became aware that he might not be helping, but floundered on. ‘I mean, surely what someone gets up to in their personal life is neither here nor there.’ He glanced around the faces. ‘Is it?’

‘Personal?’ Baroness Paradeep asked Julian. ‘By that, you mean …?’

Julian realised he had started something, and it had to be finished. ‘The fact is, he’s been married and has a child, but the word is that he …’ Julian wasn’t quite sure how to put it delicately. ‘That he also associates with young men.’