Page 15 of Behind Frenemy Lines

Razia: “You mentioned Swithin Watkins does a lot of pro bono and corporate social responsibility stuff. That’s great, but… at the end of the day, your clients are, well, they’re big companies, right?”

CG: “We represent a few private individuals, but yes, they are in a minority among our fee-paying clients.”

Can’t be helped. Most human beings can’t afford our fees.

Razia: “I was looking through the list of clients on your website. And it was all these businesses in, like, oil and gas, and tobacco, and finance, and tech. Industries that arguably don’t do much for society, that are, you know, exploitative. Have you ever wondered if—I mean, do you ever worry about that?”

So taken aback I stood there blinking. Not the sort of thing anyone would say out loud at Swithin Watkins.

Of course, Razia not employed by Swithin Watkins. Not learned the norms.

Rest of the group shooting looks at one another, like school kids worried about getting a telling off.

Razia, nervously: “I’m not trying to catch you out. It’s just… with my family circumstances, I’m going to have to prioritise financial security when I’m looking for a job. Which means going into one of those industries, or something related. I don’t know how I feel about that.”

CG: “Yes. I was… similarly placed. It sounds like you’ve thought more deeply about these issues than I did, at your age.”

Hesitated. Not used to talking about this sort of thing. At work, focus is on how to do the job, not why one does it.

Anything I said risked sounding false, given my position. Self-justifying. But I felt she deserved a real answer.

CG: “It must be right that everyone is entitled to legal representation. That is a fundamental right. One could question whether it is correct for corporations to be afforded that right. But that is not a decision for you and me. That is a decision of Parliament and the courts. We live in a democracy. We have the good fortune to be able to criticise those decisions freely, to challenge and test them. But the best way to test a legal principle is to apply it to a set of facts. You saw that today, at the moot. What you and I can do, as lawyers…”

Next part was a little embarrassing to say out loud.

But Razia and the other students’ eyes were fixed on me, as though what I said might hold the key to the secret of their lives. Perhaps it did.

CG: “What we can do is the best we can. In acting for our clients, in discharging our duties to the court, we serve the rule of law. Which means no dictators.” Thought of everyone back home. Ma doesn’t want to leave Hong Kong—she says she’s too old to make a new start in a foreign country—but you can see why people do. “It means no one’s above the law. We contribute to that, in a small way.”

Palms were damp. Something quite mortifying about admitting one believes in one’s work as a corporate lawyer. It’s far less exposing to pretend one’s simply doing it for the money.

Behind me, Kriya said: “That’s a good argument.”

I started. Might not have been quite as sincere if I’d known Kriya was listening. Had a feeling she didn’t have a high tolerance for corporate apologism.

There was a gleam in her eyes, as though she was tempted to argue the case for the opposition. But all she said was:

“We’ve got to finish up here. They’ve got another booking coming in.”

Ought to have been relieved. Had an eight a.m. with an Australian client the next day. But the sensation I felt—so unexpected it took me a moment to identify it—was disappointment.

I’d hardly got to talk to Kriya all evening. True, I’d see her in the office, but that wasn’t the same.

Heard myself saying:

“Do you want to go on to Cittie of Yorke for a drink?”

Kriya looked surprised. Not nearly as surprised as me. I’ve spent most of my career trying to avoid going to the Cittie of Yorke. Passed too many endless evenings there as a law student and trainee, until I worked out I could decline the invites.

Kriya: “Sure, let’s go.” Glanced around the group. “Anyone else want to come?”

Not what I’d intended. Most of them said they’d come along, vexingly. (Didn’t they have essays to write? Exams to prepare for?)

But Razia said: “I’m heading home. Thanks so much.”

She was looking at Kriya, despite muggins having laid himself open to ridicule, holding forth on the rule of law. Kriya smiled back at her.

My resentment receded. Could see Razia’s point of view, to be fair. I’d gaze at Kriya as goopily as she was doing, hit with a smile like that.

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