Page 2 of Behind Frenemy Lines

“There are two buildings,” said the beautiful but unfriendly man, without pausing. “You want the one over there.” He jerked his head.

I looked across the street and saw another imposing building, this one sand-coloured, with a sign next to the glass revolving doors. That signalsosaid “Swithin Watkins.”

“Shit!”

I ended up being eight minutes late to the assessment centre. As I sidled in, the other candidates glanced at me before looking away quickly, as though worried the no-doubt terrible impression left by my unpunctuality might somehow rub off on them if they stared for too long.

We were in a light-filled meeting room on the fourteenth floor, with large windows looking out on the City of London. From where I was sitting, I could see the towers of Smithfield Market, with their green domes.

That wasn’t the only thing I saw. There were five other candidates waiting for the assessment centre to start—all women, but that was where any resemblance ended. Not only was I the sole candidate who wasn’t white, I was the only person who wasn’t blonde, or thin.

I was beginning to wonder if it had been a mistake to apply to the firm. And a mistake to study law. And a mistake to come to the UK in the first place. Maybe I should have stayed in Malaysia. At least I had the right to work in Malaysia.

I gazed out at the City skyline while the Graduate Recruitment lady droned on about their international secondments. It was hard not to yearn after all the jobs I could’ve gone for if not for needing a visa. Jobs that were meaningful, that weren’t simply about the preservation of wealth.

I could have joined a nonprofit, like the refugee rights organisation I’d interned with last summer. I could have applied to the Government Legal Department. I could have joined a normal law firm that helped actual people with their problems.

Those types of employers weren’t prepared to sponsor a visa, though. For that, you needed a big firm like Swithin Watkins, one that wouldn’t notice the cost.

Except it didn’t seem likely Swithin Watkins would be volunteering to sponsor me. There were two Hannahs in the cohort of candidates. That meant there were more Hannahs than non-white people of any background present.

I shrank into my chair. The memory of Beautiful East Asian Guy from earlier didn’t help. He was probably an aberration, the exception that proved the rule. And our encounter had hardly been one to boost my confidence. Remembering it made me want to wither up with sheer embarrassment.

At least I’d probably never see him again. Looking around me, I had a feeling the firm wouldn’t be taking me on.

Charles

Went to court today. Urgent application on the Oldham matter. Print Room came through with the bundles, but it was tight.

Counsel said to client in conference, “Of course it’s finely balanced.” Meaning,We’re going to lose.Client didn’t get it.

Told supervisor we should tell the client their case is weak: “That’s what they’re paying us for. To advise on the merits of the case.”

Jamie: “No. Clients pay us to tell them what they want to hear. Oldham went with us over Brown, Rosenburg and Cushway because we said we’d win the case for them.”

Jamie pointed out that by the time the court hands down its ruling, even if it goes against Oldham, the fees will have been paid. I said Oldham could sue us for negligence and claw the money back.

Jamie, unimpressed: “You never know what will happen in litigation anyway. The judge may decide in our favour. Who knows?”

That’s true. The rest, I disagree with. Jamie: “It’s not your job to disagree. Your job is bundling.”

Good thing about Jamie, you know where you stand with him. Good quality in a supervisor. Tact also a good quality, but can’t have everything.

Should have helped that girl when she fell on the steps. I could have put the files down. Didn’t think of it till later, when I was home having dinner with Loretta.

Loretta didn’t want to hear about Oldham: “There must be something going on in your life other than work, Charles.”

Couldn’t think of anything, so told her about girl on the steps. Didn’t say anything about girl’s looks, but Loretta immediately said: “You fancied her, didn’t you? That’s why you did the awkward turtle thing. Being rude to girls you like doesn’t work in real life, you know. You’re not Fitzwilliam Darcy.”

Made the mistake of saying: “What are you talking about?” She forced me to watch highlights video of BBCPride and Prejudice. I begged off. Fourteen hours per day of staring at a computer at work more than enough screentime for me.

Loretta: “This is why you’re going to die alone. You’re Darcy without the pool scene.”

Didn’t know what she meant, but knew it was insulting.

Tact also a good quality to have in a cousin. Arguably more important in an in-house cousin than a supervisor. Loretta does not cook, do laundry, or pay market rent. While she cleans the flat sometimes, her standards for hygiene are significantly below what is pleasing. The least she could do is be nice to me. Jamie may not be nice, but at least he explains Part 36 offers.

I pointed this out to Loretta. Realised, since she’s not familiar with the Civil Procedure Rules, she wouldn’t know why Part 36 offers are so complex and why you’ve got to get them right. Started explaining the costs consequences.

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