Tales of a Barristers Clerk by Stephen Ward & Frank Parsliffe

Author:Stephen Ward & Frank Parsliffe [Ward, Stephen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: epub, ebook, QuarkXPress
ISBN: 9781789631739
Publisher: The Choir Press
Published: 2020-11-23T18:30:00+00:00

The whole operation had taken, I would guess, about five seconds. Totally stunned, I wended my weary way back to chambers. The day was not going at all well. About the only thing I did right was in not reporting the incident to Adam. I believe Harold probably heard about it later but, thankfully, kept it to himself. The mind boggles when I mull over the consequences had ‘Hitler’ been informed. One thing was certain – never again, even in an otherwise empty court, would I enter the silks’ row without a shudder. I suppose this was one of the most sure ways of learning ‘what it was all about’.

Only once do I recall Adam showing any sign of charity. I was expected to work every Saturday morning until about 12.30 whereas he and Harold Goodale alternated working on that day. On one particular Saturday morning, when it was the senior clerk’s turn, there was the need for a parcel containing a brief to be taken to Euston for urgent despatch to the north. Adam said (and this was the cherished moment): “You can take a cab if you wish”.

The prospect of charging for a cab but going by Underground leaving a fair residue of cash in my favour filled me with great joy. Thanking him, I raced off with the parcel and the ten-shilling note (fifty pence) produced from the petty cash tin.

The fare to and from Euston was about 3d each way (a shade over one pence) by Underground. After disposing of the parcel, I approached a taxi driver at the head of the rank at the main line station and enquired how much it would cost for a cab to the Temple off Fleet Street? After an unpleasant series of questions such as: “Are you hiring this bloody cab or aren’t you?” I elicited the good news that it would cost about 3/3d (three shillings and three pence old money) for a single trip.

Thanking him for his courtesy, I took the Tube back, happily working out my gains. With the parcel at 2/9d (two shillings and nine pence – old money) plus two times 3/3d for the cab, (a total of nine shillings and three pence) the change due to Adam was 9d, leaving me with a profit of 6/- (thirty pence). This represented nearly half a week’s salary. I did not feel quite like Rothschild with his first million, but I began to have a sense of financial security. Alas the euphoria was short lived. On returning to Chambers and proffering the 9d to Adam, I was subjected to a severe reprimand: “I only meant one way, you silly boy,” he said and demanded the return of the 3/-, thereby halving the ill-gotten reward for my labours.

I now had been in the job for nearly fourteen months and there seemed to be no great promise for the future. The time was rapidly approaching when I would have to leave as Adam was getting me down. He seemed to have a natural aptitude to be as distasteful as possible to his subordinates.

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