And Is There Honey Still For Tea? (20 page)

31

Saturday, 8 May

‘Ben, that's the door,' Jess called from the kitchen.

‘I will get it,' he replied.

He had heard the knock. They had both been waiting for it anxiously. It was their first formal dinner for friends as a couple, and although it had been arranged in some haste, planning it had consumed a lot of time and energy. The cooking was Jess's responsibility. She had spent a great deal of time poring over recipe books and conferring on the phone with her mother. Ben had been in charge of drinks and music. An array of pre- and post-dinner drinks stood on the sideboard and one bottle of red wine stood slightly apart, its cork removed, breathing. The voice of Ella Fitzgerald, smooth and assured, was wafting through the flat from the record-player, a soft, sad melody accompanied by haunting muted trumpets and an elegant walking bass line. His part was done. Now, he wanted to do what he could to help Jess with her last-minute preparations. But he found himself getting in her way more than helping and, with her encouragement, he re-assigned himself to finish the table setting.

On hearing the knock, he had hastily arranged the last of the knives and forks he had just placed on the dining table and, on his way to the front door, took in hand the tea towel he had been carrying on his right shoulder in the hope of finding somewhere to discard it where it would not be noticed. There was no such place unless he diverted into the kitchen. No time. He bowed to the inevitable and resigned himself to greeting their guests with the tea towel in place. He swung it jauntily back over his shoulder and opened the front door.

‘Hello, Ben', Ginny said. ‘This is Michael.'

‘A pleasure,' Ben replied, taking Michael Smart's hand. ‘Do come in. I hope you are not too out of breath. We are used to it, but it is a bit of a climb.'

Jess appeared from the kitchen.

‘Jess, this is Ginny Castle, and this is Michael Smart,' Ben said. ‘Ginny, Michael, this is Jess.'

They shook hands. Ginny was holding a bouquet of mixed flowers, which she gave to Jess. Michael presented Ben with a bottle of red wine.

‘I hope this will come in useful,' he said. ‘Best Parisian
vin ordinaire
acquired during our latest trip, fresh from the cellars of the nearest fine wine merchant to the Gare du Nord.'

‘Michael is one of the last of the big spenders,' Ginny laughed.

‘He has excellent taste,' Ben smiled. ‘The Gare du Nord is far superior to the Gare St Lazare region.'

Jess laughed. ‘The flowers are beautiful too, Ginny. Thank you. Come on in, make yourselves at home.'

‘It's really nice of you to invite us,' Ginny said. ‘Until Miles told us, we didn't know that anyone else was under threat from the committee.'

‘We had no idea either until Bernard told us,' Ben said.

They had walked the few steps along the short corridor between the front door and the large room which served as living and dining room combined. At the far end of the room, the dining table was elegantly set with a lace table cloth, and crystal wine glasses, donated by Ben's mother when he had first set up home away from the East End, some three years before. Jess had contributed two pewter candle holders, surplus to requirements at the house of an aunt. The living room area, nearer to the front door, had two large, light brown, comfortable sofas, each covered by a beige throw.

‘Sit wherever you like,' Ben said. ‘We are now in the East Wing, added by the Third Earl in 1772.'

‘In which many of the house's most famous works of art are on display,' Jess added, ‘though we regret that the fine 1964 West Ham Cup Final poster is currently on loan to the National Gallery.'

‘I would be happy to make a loan of an equally fine Manchester City poster,' Michael grinned, ‘circa 1956.'

‘Sadly,' Ben replied, ‘we have no room for other exhibits at present.'

‘Don't let him get started on football,' Ginny begged. ‘We won't talk about anything else all night.'

‘Amen to that,' Jess agreed. ‘What can Ben get you to drink?'

‘What can I get you to drink?' Ben echoed.

‘Whisky and soda, with a lot of soda,' Ginny replied.

‘I'll just go straight for the red wine,' Michael said.

‘The St Lazare? An excellent choice, sir,' Ben smiled. ‘Jess?'

‘I'm all right for now,' Jess replied. ‘If you will excuse me, I have to get back to the kitchen for a few minutes.'

‘Why don't I come with you?' Ginny said. ‘It will give me the chance to tout for some work from Bourne & Davis, and we will leave Ben to tout for some from Michael.'

Jess laughed. ‘Follow me,' she said. ‘We will tout in total privacy.'

Jess busied herself around the stove, on which pans of potatoes and green beans were simmering. She briefly opened the door of the oven and peered in anxiously.

‘Mmm, it all smells delicious,' Ginny said.

‘Beef Wellington,' Jess replied, ‘my signature dish, which I am making for someone outside my immediate family for the first time. There is a decent fish and chip shop on Canonbury Road if things go horribly wrong.'

‘I'm sure it will be great,' Ginny smiled.

Ben followed them in, bringing her whisky and soda. She thanked him. He realised suddenly how different she looked in her beige cashmere sweater and light grey slacks. He had seen her previously only in her robes or the barrister's formal black suit. She had also allowed her hair to hang loose, shoulder length, instead of being tied up in a severe bun to fit under her wig.

When Ben had withdrawn, Ginny pulled up one of the two high stools by the kitchen bench and sat down.

‘This situation is a real drag, isn't it?' Ginny asked.

Jess closed the oven door again. She put the finishing touches to the small plates of asparagus she had on her working surface, adding Hollandaise sauce and a slice of lemon to each. She paused, turned away from Ginny.

‘It really is,' she replied.

‘Michael is so angry about it that it sometimes frightens me,' Ginny said. ‘Fortunately, he knows how to control it. If he didn't there would be all kinds of mayhem. He is not a great fan of the Bar at the best of times.'

‘Why not?'

‘He thinks of it as a kind of snobby élite, and it offends him to be thought of as an outsider just because he is a solicitor. He resents the fact that the Bar has a monopoly of all the big work in court. To be honest, some of that is just being self-conscious about his accent, about being from the North – as if anyone cares, these days. And he is a brilliant solicitor; he has no reason to lack confidence at all.'

‘He should talk to Ben about that,' Jess said. ‘They could compare notes, the North versus the East End.'

Ginny laughed. ‘They will probably get around to that,' she replied. ‘Actually, Michael had mellowed a lot until all this came up. They made him a partner at Brown & Leigh about six months ago, and that has done wonders for his confidence.'

She sipped her drink.

‘But since we have been dealing with this, he has been furious all the time. The thought that the Inn is trying to dictate how we live our lives is driving him mad.'

‘How are you coping?' Jess asked.

Ginny laughed. ‘It's strange. On the one hand I feel very angry about it, you know, the thought that, here we are, adults living in the twentieth century, and yet this medieval nonsense could actually turn our lives upside down. But then, there are times when I actually find it funny, in a macabre kind of way. And there are other times when I feel almost detached from it, as if it's happening to someone else. I think it's because I don't want to dignify it by giving it the time of day. Then I feel guilty because I'm not angry enough, that I'm not as angry as Michael. I sometimes think I'm in denial. Somehow, I don't quite believe that something so ridiculous can be happening.'

She shook her head and sipped her drink again.

‘How is Ben doing?'

Jess leaned back against the work surface and folded her arms.

‘I haven't seen him get really angry at all. It amazes me. He is so self-controlled. It drives me mad sometimes, because I don't know what he's thinking, or what he's feeling. He talks about it as if it is one of his cases, and it infuriates me, because they are playing with our lives. Sometimes, I find myself thinking: “Doesn't he care about me? My life is involved here, too. Why doesn't he care about what they are doing to me?” So, then I react …'

She looked down.

‘And I take it out on him when I shouldn't, and I end up being unfair to him,' she added.

‘Unfair, how?' Ginny asked.

‘He has so much more to lose than I do,' Jess replied. ‘He has his career as a barrister, which has started really well. I just have my position with Bourne & Davis while I decide what I want to do with my life – it shouldn't compare to what he has, and I think, perhaps I should just give up my job, and make the whole problem go away. But then I think …'

‘You think, why should you? Why should you let them do that to you?'

‘Exactly.'

Ginny put her glass down on the table.

‘Jess, I don't know Ben all that well. I know him through work – mostly from the Digby case we have going on now – but you don't always get to know people very well through dealing with them in court. I know what you mean when you say he is self-controlled. But I am sure he cares for you very much. He has told me about you, and I know you mean a very great deal to him. You are very important in his life.'

Jess nodded. ‘Thank you.'

She glanced at the oven timer.

‘Well, I think we can make a start.'

Ginny leapt down from the stool.

‘What can I do?'

Jess threw open the door leading to the dining room.

‘If you will take two of those plates of asparagus in, I will bring the others and open some white wine.'

‘No problem,' Ginny replied. ‘What do you want to bet we will be interrupting a conversation about football?'

‘That would not surprise me at all,' Jess smiled.

32

‘That was fantastic,' Michael said contentedly, placing his knife and fork carefully on his plate.

‘It was a true signature dish,' Ginny agreed.

‘See, I told you it would be good,' Ben smiled.

‘I'm glad you liked it,' Jess said. ‘I feel I can relax a bit now.'

‘Let me clear these dishes away,' Ben said. ‘Why don't we pause for a few minutes before dessert? Michael, there is another bottle of red on the sideboard begging to be opened. Would you mind doing the honours?'

‘My pleasure,' Michael replied.

Ben quickly spirited the dishes from the successful Beef Wellington away to the kitchen, returned to the living room, and replaced Ella with Billie Holiday. They listened in silence for a minute or so. By some unspoken agreement, the conversation over dinner had been light, giving all four the opportunity to get to know each other. But there were more serious things to discuss.

‘What are we going to do about this nonsense?' Michael asked eventually.

‘At this point, I think we should let Bernard and Miles work their magic with the committee,' Ben said. ‘They have agreed to work together. We know how good they are. I'm betting the committee will listen to reason when it comes from two of the leading Silks in the country.'

‘But what if the committee doesn't listen to reason?' Michael insisted. ‘No disrespect, Ben, but the Middle Temple is a classic Old Boys' Club.'

Ben smiled. ‘It is,' he agreed. ‘But that is one of the reasons why I back Bernard and Miles. They are members of the club. They know the rules. They know how to get things done in that kind of environment. They know how to talk to these people. The committee will listen to Bernard and Miles where they would not necessarily listen to you and me.'

‘I agree with that,' Ginny said. ‘But we must have a contingency plan of some kind, in case it goes wrong. We may not have very much time before they take disciplinary action against us if Bernard and Miles can't persuade them.'

Jess brought the palm of her hand down angrily on the table.

‘How has it reached this point?' she asked. ‘That's what I can't understand. How can these old men think that they can control our lives like this?'

‘One or more of the old men have read a rule that makes perfect sense in principle,' Ginny replied, ‘and have given it a meaning which no reasonable person could think it was ever intended to have. As to the contingency plan, Michael and I concluded that our relationship must come first, and everything else we do must follow from that. We will take whatever steps we have to take to safeguard our relationship.'

‘Such as …?' Ben asked.

‘First, I would agree publicly not to accept any further work from Brown & Leigh,' she replied. ‘In any sane world, that would be enough. But I am picking up from Miles that even that may not be enough. For us, that would mean a change of job for one of us. The obvious last resort would be for me to leave the Bar and re-qualify as a solicitor, and then either go into practice or go in-house with a company or the Government.'

‘That would mean you would have to resign from the Bar before they take proceedings to disbar you,' Ben pointed out.

Ginny nodded. ‘Yes.'

‘And you love the Bar. I can't see you toiling away in an office.'

‘No,' she replied quietly. ‘It wouldn't be easy.'

‘Obviously, I wouldn't put Ben through that,' Jess said, after a short period of silence. ‘I could just leave Bourne & Davis and hopefully, that would be the end of it.'

Ben saw that there were tears in her eyes. He stood up, walked around the table, stood behind her chair and put his arms around her. He kissed her cheek.

‘You're missing out an important first step, Jess,' he said gently. ‘You are the most important thing to me. I will put you first, whatever happens, and we will work out what to do if and when the time comes.'

She took his hand between both of hers, raised it to her lips and kissed it.

‘There is always Australia,' she said. ‘We have talked about that.'

‘They still have a split profession in New South Wales,' Ben added, ‘so they need both barristers and solicitors.'

‘Now you're talking,' Ginny smiled. ‘Ben, we could share chambers in Sydney, and Michael could send us both work. What do you think?'

‘I'm just not sure I could do the accent,' Ben grinned. He kissed Jess again and resumed his seat.

‘I'm not ready to concede defeat,' Michael said. ‘I don't accept that we have to resign ourselves to changing jobs, even if things do go against us in the committee. Ginny has worked hard to get where she is at the Bar. It's what she loves, and I don't see why she should have to give it up.'

Ginny smiled.

‘You are about to hear Michael's pet theory,' she said. ‘I can't say I'm convinced yet, but it's an interesting idea…'

‘I think if the committee does go against us, we should sue the Middle Temple,' Michael announced grandly.

Ben laughed aloud.

‘Well, there's a thought,' he replied. ‘Sue them where, and for what?'

‘Well, you barristers are the experts on procedure,' he grinned. ‘But my idea is to sue in the Chancery Division for a declaration that the Middle Temple is acting unlawfully. Perhaps Sir James Digby QC could act for us. He is a Chancery man, I believe.'

Ben was smiling. He stared at Michael for some time.

‘So, what do you think?' Michael asked.

‘Well, a declaration might be our remedy. But you have to have a cause of action before a declaration can be granted. What is our cause of action?'

‘His first stab at that was conspiracy to defraud,' Ginny said, laughing.

‘I submitted that to learned counsel for an opinion,' Michael said, ‘but she was not impressed.'

‘Neither am I,' Ben said.

‘So, then I gave the matter further thought. What do you think about the European Convention on Human Rights?'

‘The what?' Ben asked.

‘I had to ask as well,' Ginny admitted.

‘The Convention for the Protection of Human Rights and Freedoms, to give it its full title,' Michael replied, ‘signed by all the members of the Council of Europe, of which the United Kingdom is one, in 1950. It came into effect in 1953. It has some interesting provisions. Article 8 guarantees the right to respect for the citizen's private and family life, his home and his correspondence.'

Ben nodded. ‘Fair enough. But is that part of our law?'

‘Not directly,' Ginny replied. ‘But Michael thinks we may be able to rely on it.'

‘My theory,' Michael said, ‘is that the Government has a duty to respect the provisions of treaties it ratifies, even if there is no corresponding provision in our own law. I'm still checking to see whether the UK registered any reservations when it ratified the treaty.'

‘But it's not the Government doing this to us,' Ben objected. ‘It's the Middle Temple we have a problem with.'

‘We could argue that the Middle Temple controls admission to a profession necessary to uphold the rule of law,' Ginny said, ‘which is an important function of government.'

‘Which is where I get out of my depth,' Michael admitted.

‘So do we,' Ginny grinned.

‘The person to ask in my chambers,' Ben said, ‘would be Harriet Fisk. She has a background in international law. Her father was a diplomat before he became Master of his college at Cambridge. I will mention it to her next week in confidence, obviously.'

‘Can't do any harm,' Michael agreed. ‘Brown & Leigh would act as solicitors, I am sure, which would save on costs.'

‘I am sure Barratt would help too,' Jess added.

‘The more, the merrier,' Michael said. ‘Let's hope we don't have to put the plan to the test. Let's hope Bernard and Miles are successful.' He raised his glass. ‘But in any case, a toast: to Jess, a wonderful cook; and to two couples who love each other and who are not going to be driven apart by a group of miserable old men.'