“You don’t really want to have a conversation with me, do you, Miss Blake?”
“What?”
“Let me tell you something,” she said, with a sharpness that belied the fixed smile on her face, “I am the youngest silk in my generation. That is not an accident, despite what you may believe. As one learns very quickly in this profession, fortune favors the brave — but also the pragmatic. I suppose you’re interested in a human rights set of some kind. Police brutality? Is that your plan?”
“I’m not sure yet,” said Natalie, trying to sound bullish. She was very close to tears.
“It wasn’t mine. In my day, if you went down that route people tended to associate you with your clients. I took some advice early on: “Avoid ghetto work.” It was Judge Whaley who gave it to me. He knew better than anyone. The first generation does what the second doesn’t want to do. The third is free to do what it likes. How fortunate you are. If only good fortune came with a little polite humility. Now, I believe this place does wine. Will you have a little wine?”
“I didn’t mean to be rude. I’m sorry.”
“It’s a good tip for court: don’t imagine your contempt is invisible. You’ll find out as you mature that life is a two-way mirror.”
“But I don’t have contempt—”
“Calm yourself, sister. Have a glass of wine. I was just the same at your age. Hated being told.”
122. Theodora’s advice
“When I first started appearing before a judge, I kept being reprimanded from the bench. I was losing my cases and I couldn’t understand why. Then I realized the following: when some floppy-haired chap from Surrey stands before these judges, all his passionate arguments read as “pure advocacy.” He and the Judge recognize each other. They are understood by each other. Very likely went to the same school. But Whaley’s passion, or mine, or yours, reads as ‘aggression.’ To the judge. This is his house and you are an interloper within it. And let me tell you, with a woman it’s worse: ‘Aggressive hysteria.’ The first lesson is: turn yourself down. One notch. Two. Because this is not neutral.” She passed a hand over her neat frame from her head to her lap, like a scanner. “This is never neutral.”
123. Bye noe
hi finally
that wasn’t so hard now was it
just don’t like downloading things
me no like computerz
from the internet at WORK. Weak gov computers. One little virus
me fear the future
and they die innit
is it
shut it blake.
That’s just so fucking FASCINATING
Hello hanwell DARLING. What brings you to the internets this fine afternopn
noon
woman next to me picking nose really getting in there
tried to call but you no answer
delighteful.
cant take private calls in pupilf room what’s up
big news
You got cat aids?
free may sixth?
You catch cat aids may 6th? I am free if not in court. I big lawyer lasy these days innit
Big lawyer lady jesus
shit typer
lady jesus I am getting married
!!!!!?????
on may
that’s great! When did this happen???
Six in registry same like u but irth actyl guests
I’m really happy for you seriously
Actual guests.
Iz for mum really.
right
also, I really love him.
lust him.
Important to him and he wants to.
It’s what people do innit.
sorry clerk one min
enough reasons?
I think I’m going to wear purple
Also for Pauline
And gold like a catholic priest
Hello?
Sorry that is really great — congrats!
Does this mesn
Mean procreation??
FUCK OFF WOMAN
FUCK OFF WITH YOUR SMILEY FACE
cant believe you getting hitched
whats happening to
me too
universe?
we iz old
we’re not fucking old
at least u achieving something. I’m just slowly dying
this my 2nd year as pupil. May be pupil for rest of
dying of boredom
life
don’t know what tht means
it = not good. Most peole tenant after ONE YEAR
anyway boring — can I ask question and you not get off
offended sorry
fuck most people
haha I am so not getting off right now
can I?
when u get hitched you have to give up everyone else anyway.
that’s the idea, isn’t it?
Stupid idea.
haha
So just more people to give up.
That answer your question big lady jesus?
Haha yes. You iz mind reader for realz
and when all else fails:
www.adultswatchingadults.com
passes the time
you know what I’m chatting about. Come on girl!
Oi mate don’t leave me hanging!
Sorry. Work shitstorm gotta go love you
bye noe
“bye noe”
124. A tenancy meeting question
Ms. Blake, would you be prepared to represent someone from the B.N.P.?
125. Harlesden hero (with parentheses)
Natalie Blake did not expect to be offered tenancy. To convert an external judgment into a personal choice she told herself a story about legal ethics, strong moral character and indifference to money. She told the same tale to Frank and Leah, to her family, to her fellow trainee barristers and to anyone else who inquired after her future. This was a way of making the future safe. (All Natalie’s storytelling had, in the end, this aim in view.) When, contrary to her expectations, she was indeed offered tenancy, Natalie Blake was placed in an awkward position vis-à-vis her personal ethics and strong moral character and indifference to money (or, at least, as far as the public representations of these qualities were concerned) and was forced to refuse the offer of tenancy and take the paralegal job at R senb rg, Sl tte y & No ton that she had been talking up for several months. A tiny legal aid firm in Harlesden with half its stencilled letters peeled off.
126. Tonya seeks Keisha
Natalie Blake’s clients called at inappropriate times. They lied. They were usually late for court, rarely wore what they had been advised to wear and refused perfectly sensible plea deals. Occasionally they threatened her life. In her first six months at RSN, three of her clients were young men who “went Brayton,” although they were much younger then Natalie Blake herself. This caused her to wonder if the school had gone downhill — further downhill. She snatched lunch from the jerk place opposite McDonald’s, sat on a high stool and had trouble keeping the oil off her suit. Pattie, fish dumpling and a can of ginger beer, most days. She tried to vary this menu, but at the counter any spirit of adventure abandoned her. A long-term plan existed to meet Marcia and Marcia’s sister Irene, who lived nearby, for lunch, but this fantasy appointment, with its two hours of idle time and no need to read briefs, never seemed to arrive, and soon enough Natalie Blake understood that it never would. Fairly often she saw her cousin Tonya on Harlesden high street. On these occasions — despite her new status as a big lawyer lady — she experienced the same feelings of insecurity and inadequacy Tonya had compelled in her when they were children. This afternoon Tonya wore sweatpants with HONEY written across the posterior and a close-fitting denim waistcoat with a yellow bra underneath. Her fringe was purple, the hoop of her earrings brushed her shoulders. Her platform heels were red and five inches high. Despite the toddler and the baby in her double buggy Tonya retained the proportions of a super-heroine in a comic book. Natalie meanwhile was sadly “margar,” as the Jamaicans say. To white people this translates as “skinny” or “athletic,” and is widely considered a positive value. For Natalie it meant ultimately shapeless, a blank. Tonya’s skin was never ashy but always silky and gorgeous and she was not prone to the harsh pink acne that sometimes broke out across Natalie’s forehead, and was present today. Where Natalie’s teeth were small and gray, Tonya’s were huge, white, even, and presently on display in a giant smile. As Tonya approached, Natalie was sure she, Natalie, had dumpling oil round her mouth. But perhaps all this displacement of anxiety into the physical realm was a feminine way of simplifying a far deeper and more insoluble difference, for Natalie believed Tonya had a gift for living and Natalie herself did not seem to have this gift.