Year 2, week 16: RoughNight

"So how’s your nice little friend Claire, BabyB?" It was TheVamp, last night stirring as usual. We were in a bar after having been working on Big Mouth’s case.
"She’s good. Working hard."
"Pretty keen on you, I’d say."
"Oh, no. You’ve got the wrong end of the stick with that one. Definitely just friends. Never been anything between us except a very small thing early on."

With that, TheVamp switched to her flirt mode. 
"Oh, BabyB, a very small thing indeed. Don’t be so modest."

Well, if I was to be the victim of her advances this evening, who was I to argue. 
"Come on BabyB, where are we going next?  You’re young enough to be trendy. What bars do you know?"

Young enough to be poverty stricken more like. The only late night illegal bar that I knew was a Spanish bar just off Tottenham Court Road where you had to say the owner’s name after ringing the door bell to be let in as part of a kind of open sesame routine. Girls dancing salsa, couples eating Spanish beans and old men playing cards out the back. Not a place I’d think of taking a fellow member of chambers to try and impress her. But hey, it was TheVamp and she was demanding late night drinking and despite my reservations it went down pretty well.

So well in fact that I ended up once again having breakfast with her the next morning. Actually about four hours after arriving back in. I was definitely still very drunk and was glad I wasn’t having to go to court. TheVamp on the other hand was moaning that she had a big trial starting in a couple of hours and not only had she not yet read the papers but worse, her vision was still so blurred that she wasn’t actually able to start. 
"Don’t worry BabyB. I can do these cases with my eyes shut. I’ll just get the client to tell me what he says is the problem in his own words beforehand. Always good to hear it from the horses mouth. Should be enough."

Yet she was positively steaming alcohol from her pores and I don’t think that any amount of perfume or extra strong mints was going to mask that.

"This didn’t happen BabyB, you know that by now," she whispered as she whisked out and onto her case.

Fine by me. In the meantime, I just hope that in the half an hour it would have taken her to get to court she didn’t look even a fraction as rough as when she left the house. 

Sometimes, having a wig and gown to hide beneath can be rather helpful.

January 17, 2008 · Tim Kevan · One Comment
Posted in: Uncategorized

One Response

  1. Loo - January 21, 2008

    Ah! The Spanish Bar. How fondly I remember it…A truly excellent, if rather sweaty, establishment.