Page 29 of Fe
“I’m guessing it’s not like it is in films.”
“Sometimes it is. But it’s not very interesting showing us getting up at the crack of dawn to catch early morning trains to places we’d usually have no interest in visiting, or buying packets of sandwiches at the station we end up eating too quickly in small windowless rooms. Assuming there’s even time to eat if we have to fit in seeing a client before court sits again.”
“Does that get better the more senior you are?”
“It can, but I can’t pick and choose which case I take.”
Fen glanced at him. “Really?”
“If I’m instructed to take a case within my competence, and it’s in a place feasible for me to get to, and set at a fee that can’t be deemed unreasonable, then unless there’s a conflict of interest, or my calendar is full, I have to take it. It’s called the cab rank rule.”
“Because taxi drivers can only refuse a fare if they have a reasonable excuse or the passenger wants to travel outside of the controlled district.”
“Exactly.”
“I suppose if you made a habit of saying you were too busy, you’d get into trouble.”
“I would. I rely on my clerk to make sure the cases I get are ones I’ll like. He does his best.”
“Does he get a huge Christmas bonus?”
“Clerks are not people we wish to piss off. But they need us to be successful to pay their salary, so it’s in their interests to match us to cases carefully.”
“Do you defend or prosecute?”
“Both. We’re guns-for-hire.”
“I didn’t know that. It sounds stressful.”
“It can be. Much of what I do has nothing to do with the law. I’ve had to learn how to recognise mental health issues, signs of domestic abuse both physical and emotional, addiction to drugs or alcohol. Sometimes it’s hard not to overstep your role, but you need to be a psychiatrist, counsellor, social worker and occasionally a parent, as well as speak on your client’s behalf. Every client deserves the best I can do for them. Some cases suck my time, others don’t. Some clients cry with gratitude, others walk off without saying a word. I had one young man…”
“What?”
“He tried to kill himself the night the trial ended.”
“Oh God.”
“He was a victim of rape. I was working for the Crown Prosecution Service so presenting the case against his attacker. The rapist was found guilty. Unfortunately, I hadn’t seen that winning the court case wasn’t enough, that it didn’t mitigate what the young man had been through. I look more carefully now for those who might go home and try to end their life. But I can only do so much.”
Ripley looked down when he felt Fen’s hand settle on his. Fen gave his fingers a quick squeeze, then let go. Ripley felt relieved Fen had released him before he’d pulled away. He’d never held hands with anyone since he was a toddler. And yet he’d felt comfort even from that brief moment of connection.
“It’s a difficult job,” Fen said quietly.
“Yes.”
“Do you ever get time off?”
“If I book it. Or sometimes when I don’t book it but something goes wrong and a case evaporates.”
Fen came to a halt by a bus stop. “We catch the bus here.”
“I think the thing most people don’t realise is that barristers don’t get cases until a few days before the hearing date. Sometimes the day before.”
“Wow. That seems crazy. So, a lot of late nights?”
“A fair few. Is this our bus coming?”
“Yes.”
