I’m going to be here all evening, anyway.’ She closed her books and left chambers with Marcus.
Maurice Faber was comfortably ensconced in one of the armchairs, holding forth to David, William, and Stephen Bishop. Already the centre of attention, thought Marcus.
Roderick Hayter, the head of chambers, came in with Simon Barron and two pupils, a quiet, nervous young man and a girl with dark hair and watchful eyes, both of whom, new and raw, merely sat with their tea on the fringes of the group, listening to the conversation.
Maurice stirred his tea and eyed Roderick Hayter. The word was that he would be a High Court judge before the year was out, and 5 Caper Court would need a new head of chambers. The job was not an easy one, and therefore not to the taste of many barristers, but ever since childhood and the first competitive flush of prep school, Maurice had had an appetite for positions of pre-eminence. The same spark of aspiration which had driven him to be form captain, head of house, head of the debating team, captain of the First XV (but not quite President of the Oxford Union – Maurice had no political inclinations and gauged carefully the likely return on any expended energy) had made him a thrusting and aggressive lawyer, one of the youngest QCs in his year, with an appetite for success. The fact was, Maurice liked to come top. He never asked himself whether it mightbe some sense of inadequacy which made him so keen to be acclaimed and recognised, or whether his parents might have done better to set less store by the badges and honours and form prizes. He simply strove, from morning to night, as he always had done, eager to win. Cases, women, arguments …
He sat weighing up the other likely contenders. Stephen Bishop? Not a chance, too easy-going, probably wouldn’t even put himself in the running. Jeremy Vane? A possibility. Jeremy liked nothing better than swanking about, being top dog. Not that he was much liked. Leo Davies? He was a dark horse, universally liked and admired in spite of everything one heard … Maurice suspected Leo couldn’t care one way or the other about being head of chambers, but that was just the kind of quality one had to watch out for. Still, in the light of this recent scandal, Maurice couldn’t see even Leo being a popular choice. If and when the time came, Maurice felt he’d be in with a fairly good chance. It wouldn’t be easy, being so new to 5 Caper Court, but Maurice liked a challenge. He had a few months to make his mark.
As Roderick sank into a chair next to him, placing his tea cup carefully on the table, Maurice remarked, ‘I was surprised you didn’t take the opportunity to take out an ad in
The Times’
‘Sorry?’ said Roderick.
Maurice waved a hand in the direction of Ann and Marcus. ‘Expanding chambers. Plenty of chambers seem to seize the chance to advertise. You know thekind of thing. A big box in Legal Appointments pages: “Five Caper Court is pleased to announce, et cetera, et cetera.”’
‘Sounds like something in the births columns,’ said Michael Gibbon. ‘I’m not very keen on that kind of self-publicising. Not quite our style.’
Bristling at the implied criticism in this remark, Maurice replied swiftly, ‘I suppose you prefer the other kind of publicity? The kind Leo Davies has been attracting?’ He raised an eyebrow.
There was a brief, embarrassed silence. ‘No one’s much enjoyed that,’ said Simon. ‘Least of all Leo.’
At that moment Sarah came into the common room with David Liphook, her pupilmaster. She glanced across at the other tenants as she collected her tea. The dark-haired guy next to Roderick must be Maurice Faber. Interesting. She liked the dark, Mediterranean looks, the liquid eyes. Bit old, though, forty at least. Leaving Leo aside, old guys were a bit of a drag. Her gaze shifted to Marcus. His ebony features seemed to stand out amongst the other pallid faces in the common room. Dead, white males, thought
Maurice Faber was comfortably ensconced in one of the armchairs, holding forth to David, William, and Stephen Bishop. Already the centre of attention, thought Marcus.
Roderick Hayter, the head of chambers, came in with Simon Barron and two pupils, a quiet, nervous young man and a girl with dark hair and watchful eyes, both of whom, new and raw, merely sat with their tea on the fringes of the group, listening to the conversation.
Maurice stirred his tea and eyed Roderick Hayter. The word was that he would be a High Court judge before the year was out, and 5 Caper Court would need a new head of chambers. The job was not an easy one, and therefore not to the taste of many barristers, but ever since childhood and the first competitive flush of prep school, Maurice had had an appetite for positions of pre-eminence. The same spark of aspiration which had driven him to be form captain, head of house, head of the debating team, captain of the First XV (but not quite President of the Oxford Union – Maurice had no political inclinations and gauged carefully the likely return on any expended energy) had made him a thrusting and aggressive lawyer, one of the youngest QCs in his year, with an appetite for success. The fact was, Maurice liked to come top. He never asked himself whether it mightbe some sense of inadequacy which made him so keen to be acclaimed and recognised, or whether his parents might have done better to set less store by the badges and honours and form prizes. He simply strove, from morning to night, as he always had done, eager to win. Cases, women, arguments …
He sat weighing up the other likely contenders. Stephen Bishop? Not a chance, too easy-going, probably wouldn’t even put himself in the running. Jeremy Vane? A possibility. Jeremy liked nothing better than swanking about, being top dog. Not that he was much liked. Leo Davies? He was a dark horse, universally liked and admired in spite of everything one heard … Maurice suspected Leo couldn’t care one way or the other about being head of chambers, but that was just the kind of quality one had to watch out for. Still, in the light of this recent scandal, Maurice couldn’t see even Leo being a popular choice. If and when the time came, Maurice felt he’d be in with a fairly good chance. It wouldn’t be easy, being so new to 5 Caper Court, but Maurice liked a challenge. He had a few months to make his mark.
As Roderick sank into a chair next to him, placing his tea cup carefully on the table, Maurice remarked, ‘I was surprised you didn’t take the opportunity to take out an ad in
The Times’
‘Sorry?’ said Roderick.
Maurice waved a hand in the direction of Ann and Marcus. ‘Expanding chambers. Plenty of chambers seem to seize the chance to advertise. You know thekind of thing. A big box in Legal Appointments pages: “Five Caper Court is pleased to announce, et cetera, et cetera.”’
‘Sounds like something in the births columns,’ said Michael Gibbon. ‘I’m not very keen on that kind of self-publicising. Not quite our style.’
Bristling at the implied criticism in this remark, Maurice replied swiftly, ‘I suppose you prefer the other kind of publicity? The kind Leo Davies has been attracting?’ He raised an eyebrow.
There was a brief, embarrassed silence. ‘No one’s much enjoyed that,’ said Simon. ‘Least of all Leo.’
At that moment Sarah came into the common room with David Liphook, her pupilmaster. She glanced across at the other tenants as she collected her tea. The dark-haired guy next to Roderick must be Maurice Faber. Interesting. She liked the dark, Mediterranean looks, the liquid eyes. Bit old, though, forty at least. Leaving Leo aside, old guys were a bit of a drag. Her gaze shifted to Marcus. His ebony features seemed to stand out amongst the other pallid faces in the common room. Dead, white males, thought
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