89: Fish out of water

‘What have you got planned, for whilst I’m away?’ Asked Charlie as I was about to wave her away at the mews.

‘Only a lunch with Walpole, so far.’

‘He’ll be able to explain father better than I can.’

‘Surely the train would have been easier?’

‘It’s actually a long way from the station, and much easier once I get there.’

‘Oh, well, enjoy the open road, or whatever.’

‘I’ll be back in time to oversee Melisa’s placement. Cheery-oh, pip, pip, as your lot would say.’

‘I’ll have the steak and kidney pudding, plenty of mashed spud and tell cook not to skimp on the gravy.’

‘And, cod and chips for myself. Something to drink?’

‘Oh! A glass of your best cooking claret please.’

‘A bottle of the house Bordeaux Red, thank you. Nice to see you getting into the spirit of things.’

‘One day, if I win the lottery, I’ll be able to afford to put-up myself, and return the favour.’

‘Stranger things have happened.’

‘I imagine you want me to talk about Charlotte’s father?’

‘Oh, not in the least. My approach has always been to avoid asking her, just listen on the odd occasions when she chooses to mention him. When she met you for the first time at the gallery, she was being genuinely respectful, she wasn’t playing the Valette.’

‘The only occasion we’d been in the same room before, was years ago, in court, when she came to watch her father in action. I meant to try and speak to her then, but she didn’t stay long. I don’t like second-hand gossip, I like to check out my facts, make up my own mind. I’m pleased to see her so happy, settled.’

‘Well, tell me what he’s like at the law then? From the horse’s mouth, so to speak.’ I said smiling.

Walpole looked thoughtful for a moment. ‘You know, that fellow they’ve got leading the opposition in parliament at the moment? Technically, he’s a bit like him. Always trying to impress the judge, rather than appeal to a jury. Hopeless for the defence, a natural prosecutor. But in other respects, quite different. Practices mainly in the civil courts. You see, in point of fact, not to beat about the bush, he’s a zealot!’

‘Really?’

‘Oh, yes. A zealot for the law, a law as seen through the lens of traditional, protestant, high church, Christian beliefs. That god bothering society of his has quite a few followers, but essentially, it’s him. And in your face, all the time. That’s what I can’t stand. So, utterly convinced of his own convictions. I imagine, and I do mean imagine, that’s what Charlotte couldn’t stick, she obviously read the bible for her own sake, chose tolerance, acceptance. I often read The Beacon, mainly for the law reports you understand, so I realise she does work for the homeless on the side.’

‘Yes, she’s been involved for a long time, persuaded our Trust to chip-in and taken a seat on their committee on our behalf.’

‘Charles, it is always Charles, never a Charlie, used to express his frustration with his daughter all the time. We shared chambers for a while. As I say, unverified gossip, not worth recalling.’

‘A little bird told me you were also acquainted with our Chief Constable Wainwright?’

‘Ha! I laughed like a drain when I saw her pictured with your Crimean gold.’

‘I got her out of bed that day.’

‘Really! No, funny how first encounters stick with you, she doesn’t appear to have changed at all, a stickler for correctness. Caught her with a left hook on her first appearance down the Bailey. Jack told you, did he?’ I nodded. ‘I met Jack, when I got him off a charge of handling. Smart guy, understands other’s expertise, behaved exactly as I told him to in the witness box.’

‘We have an informal, business relationship, I flatter myself I bring an air of respectability to his world.’

‘Oh, I’m sure. I ought to say, I’ve not mentioned to my wife that I’ve reconnected with Jack, and the likes of our Chief of Police, she has a tendency to believe gossip and pass it on without question.’

‘Absolutely. Understood.’

‘Still, a blessing in disguise, from time to time. You can bet that the news of Charlotte doing well for herself, keeping out of trouble I mean, has already got back to her mother. Terribly incestuous, the law.’

‘And for dessert?’

‘Jam roly-poly with custard, I think.’

We took our coffees to the log fire in the lounge and settled in. ‘Now, have I got this right, Brinkley is your accountant, Merriweather your solicitor?’

‘Correct.’

‘I was just getting settled in the law, as a barrister, when they go and let solicitor’s take the very bread from our mouths.’

‘According to Lawrence, Bernard’s problem is not so much the law, as not understanding judges.’

‘Oh, you bet! Most of the work may be done in writing these days, but that just makes judges even more bureaucratically minded. Bernard, as you call him, opened up a bit about Sparkwell QC giving him a mauling. Again, it all comes back to not being able to keep God almighty out of court, or do I mean, keeping the law out of the church. How can I put this politely, one shouldn’t be surprised if your friends continue to soft-pedal their relationship, particularly if they’re committed Christians? Being of that generation, they’d see Sparkwell senior as a real potential menace and your Charlotte, well as a probable victim, but also, as a possible ally.’

In order to wake up again after a heavy lunch, I took Walpole on a bit of a tour of the house and grounds beyond the confines of the club. ‘Whereabouts are you living?’ He mentioned a village on the edge of town with one foot in the countryside. ‘And how’s your wife taking to it all?’

‘Gardening. She, has become the world’s most enthusiastic gardener. Constant expeditions to your garden centre.’

‘Not really your scene?’

‘No. I’m the townie, feeling a bit like a fish out of water to be honest.’

‘But you’re the more sociable one?’

‘Oh, I’ll adjust. Just don’t ask me to do the digging and weeding.’

‘You should write your memoirs.’

‘Not the noblest of professions. And what I like to recall, well its all terribly out of date now.’

‘You could write a blog, about a townie trying to adjust to life in the country.’

‘I can’t think who’d be interested!’

‘Actually, it’s quite a controversial area, you should try reading my aunt’s magazine, wealthy townies importing their values. The eco-minded trampling over traditional agriculture. Charlie writes an occasional column.’

‘Does she? Is there no end to her talents? Where is she by the way, if you don’t mind my asking?’

‘On leave. Gone fishing. She and her pals have somehow got on the right side of the Duke of Northumberland’s gillie.’

‘My word!’

‘Is that the sea, that I can, see?’ Walpole asked after we’d wandered on a way.

‘It is indeed. One of the main reasons for remodelling the golf course, hence the new trees. You can also see the sea from the roof again, I won’t take you up there, problems with health and safety, insurance etc.’

‘Oh, I can believe it. You know the only reason Sparkwell senior isn’t a judge is he can’t play golf. No, I don’t quite mean that. But part of the social life of many judges is golf, and it’s hardly compatible with having a compulsion to bring religion into everything.’

‘You never took to the game?’

‘Oh, no! Absolute self-torture, just playing against oneself, no end to it. Mrs Walpole was keen I should play at one time, but then she was far more ambitious than I, to see me progress in the law. Do you suffer from having a partner with ambitions on your behalf?’

‘Only that I should be as much a fitness fanatic as she is!’

‘Ha!’