Letters From the Attic by Gabriel Farago

Author:Gabriel Farago [Farago, Gabriel]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Gabriel Farago
Published: 2022-08-10T00:00:00+00:00

Winston and the fire warden

To have your case adjourned on Monday morning after having worked through the entire weekend with little or no sleep, is every barrister’s nightmare. Sadly, that was exactly what happened to me on this occasion. I was staring down the barrel of a week without work. Bugger! Disappointed, I walked back to my chambers.

When I opened the door to my room, I noticed that the small portable TV that I kept on top of my drinks cabinet to watch the cricket was on. That’s strange, I thought, walking over to the cabinet to turn off the TV. Before I could reach for the switch, I heard a strange growl. Looking over my shoulder, I saw a small dog, eyes bulging with disapproval, staring at me. At first I didn’t trust my eyes, but when I turned around to face the strange visitor, there was no denying it: there was a dog sitting on my Chesterfield, watching television. Quite small, but feisty with a head that was a little too big, tiny ears, and a squashed nose that suggested that he liked to chase parked cars, he was snorting and making other obviously hostile noises. When I tried to reach for the switch again to turn off the TV, the growl became louder, and the hairs on his back began to bristle. Realising that confrontation wasn’t an option, I began to slowly back away towards the door.

Tom-Tom was busy as usual. She excelled at multitasking. I waited until she came up for air after answering several calls at the same time, before stating my case.

‘There’s a dog in my room watching television,’ I said calmly. Tom-Tom stared at me, just as the dog had done moments before.

‘What are you doing here?’ she asked. ‘You’re supposed to be in court!’

‘I wish I was; adjournment.’

‘Shit! Come with me and not a word to anyone.’ With that, Tom-Tom got up, and hurried down the corridor towards my room. ‘Cyril’s wife came in half an hour ago with that wretched dog, Winston. She was on her way to the dentist and wanted to leave Winston with Cyril for an hour. He’s in court, so she left him with me!’

‘And you parked him in my room and turned on the TV to entertain him. Is that it?’ I said.

Tom-Tom looked at me sheepishly and shrugged. ‘He likes television. You’ve got to keep him in there until she gets back.’

‘You’re kidding!’

‘Name your price.’

‘I should be in court running a case; instead, I’m back in my room doggy-sitting?’

‘What’s that?’ said Tom-Tom, pointing to the open door of my room. ‘You left your door open? Jesus!’

Winston was gone.

Tom-Tom was becoming hysterical. ‘You let him out!’ she shouted.

‘Calm down; he couldn’t have gone far. Let’s find him. You go that way, I’ll try the other side.’

A barrister’s floor on Monday morning is pandemonium. The reception area was full of instructing solicitors and their anxious clients – standing room only – and the floor clerk was trying to answer a dozen questions at the same time.

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