The ‘Master of Revels’ stands up and starts talking about things which aren’t funny, but everyone finds it hilarious so I’m obviously missing all the jokes.
The joiners of Circuit are called out in alphabetical order. The first one is a guy from another Chambers and he gets an awful heckling, having to go back to the beginning of his shizzle about ten times before he finally finishes it.
‘Did you have to do this, Richard?’ I ask, amazed he would ever do such a thing.
‘I refused,’ he replies.
‘You can refuse? But you’re a member of Circuit,’ I ask, confused.
‘Rules are there to be broken, Amanda…’ he says with a wry smile and wink.
By the seventh candidate, everyone is getting a bit bored of the process and clearly wants to go home. They don’t realise the worst is yet to come.
‘The eighth and final candidate applying to join Circuit is Angela Waites,’ the Master bellows. A flash of annoyance crosses Angela’s face as she yells, ‘Oh, Master! It’s An-gella!’
Skylar and I just look at each other. No words, just a look.
She dramatically glugs the dregs of her wine and stands on the chair, hitching her (already short, tight) skirt up in doing so. She does a few fake deep breaths and then starts her stuff. Problem for her is that everyone has been through this seven times so they’re all a bit bored of it now. Sensing this, she feels the need to up the ante.
‘Ladies and gentlemen. There’s nothing I love better than a challenge. And so, as the final candidate to be admitted to Circuit, I am going to declare my intentions… in Spanish!’
Oh, for fuck’s sake.
And off she goes. Everyone cheers. The showstopper of the evening. Wow, those nerves disappeared quickly once she decided to switch to a language that wasn’t her own. She steps down and does a curtsey that wouldn’t look out of place on a Shakespearean stage.
‘Right, that’s me done,’ Skylar says, throwing his napkin down on the table. ‘Would you like a lift home, Amanda?’
‘Yes, please,’ I reply, a little too enthusiastically.
Skylar and I are the first ones out of the room and make a quick dash towards the exit. As I close the door, I feel the weight of it taken off me by someone behind, only to turn and see Sid, who smiles at me.
‘How was your first Mess, Amanda?’ he asks.
‘It was quite the experience.’
‘Well, that’s a good way of putting it,’ he smiles.
‘I don’t think I’ll be joining any time soon.’
‘And that’s another! Richard, do you remember the evening I joined Circuit?’ he yells ahead of me.
‘When you got so drunk you fell off the chair and broke your wrist? How could I forget?’ Skylar recounts.
‘I still finished my speech, though…’ Sid says proudly.
‘Yes… in the ambulance,’ Skylar recalls disapprovingly.
‘No way?!’ I squeal.
‘Oh yes. Sid caused me no end of trouble in pupillage. I almost got rid of him on countless occasions. Only reason I never went through with it is because he’s one of the best bloody barristers I’ve ever come across.’
Coming from Skylar, that’s quite the compliment. I’ve never seen him speak so highly of anyone before.
‘Oh, come on, Richard. I wasn’t that much trouble,’ Sid says, playfully.
Skylar gives Sid the look I’ve come to know as the Look of Death and Sid just smiles cheekily at him.
‘Yes, you were. I get ALL the troublesome pupils…’
‘Erm, what’s that supposed to mean?’ I ask, mock-offended.
‘You’re both “characters”,’ Skylar says with a worried look on his face.
Sid and I both glance at each other.
‘Anyway, come on, Amanda. We have an early start tomorrow.’ Skylar points out as he heads off towards the car.
‘See you both tomorrow,’ Sid says, doing a kind of ‘see you later salute’. Probably the lighting and the fact we are standing in the darkness with the stars and whatever, but oh my goodness, Sid looks super-dreamy tonight. And he’s in his three-piece suit with his tie off. And his eyes really are so twinkly. I watch him walking away, ridiculous grin on my face.
Skylar interrupts and cuts it dead.
‘Don’t go there, Amanda.’
‘What?!’
‘I saw the way you were looking at him.’
‘I was doing no such thing.’
‘I’ve warned you about this,’ he says in his best dad tone.
‘Oh, Richard. Honestly. Stop it. I am not a lovesick teenager. I am a woman completely in control of my emotions and I do not form crushes on work colleagues.’
Even as I’m saying it, I make a mental note to file this quotation under ‘I Don’t Fancy Sid Ryder and Other Lies To Tell Your Pupilmaster’.
The conversation naturally ends with the revelation that Skylar has received a parking ticket, which sends him into a furious rage. Nothing upsets him more than having to fork out money, especially for something which is unavoidable. He witters about it all the way to my flat then barks at me that I need to be in Chambers ‘BY 7 a.m.’ because we have a big sentence.
It’s almost midnight by the time I crash into bed and I’m physically and mentally drained from the evening’s events. But one thing’s for sure: it’s given me a valuable insight into my colleagues, the people behind the wigs and robes, the ones I’ll be working with and who I’ll have to impress to win this tenancy, and that can’t be a bad thing.
Before I know it, Halloween tat is starting to fill the shops and I’m glugging pumpkin-spiced lattes like nobody’s business. There’s that lovely late afternoon sun in the sky, the one which casts beautiful, bright, tangerine-orange light over everything at about 3 p.m. A little pop-up stall on the Quayside has appeared, selling jacket potatoes, chestnuts and other cold-weather fodder, and it shoots all kinds of delicious aromas around the area whenever I leave Chambers on an evening.
When did it suddenly become autumn?
One thing which has amazed me in recent weeks is the amount of hoop-jumping one must do as a pupil – it really is never-ending. In addition to going to court, all the work Skylar sets for me and remembering everyone’s names (still only mastered approximately eighty-seven per cent of Chambers, which is rather shameful), I also have to attend various pupil courses. Forensic accounting, advocacy, ethics… you name it, there’s a course for it. To make it worse, they’re usually held in a conference suite miles away and I’m exposed to other pupils all day, most of whom are only interested in bragging about who is the most intelligent/loudest/irritating (always Marty).
By the end of October I’ve been on three of these courses and I’m starting to wish I had a vice to turn to which was stronger than wine but not quite heroin. I’m sure there must be a happy medium somewhere on the vice spectrum… hmm… Absinthe, perhaps?
Ultimately, being governed by the Bar Council, Chambers must comply with various regulations if they want to take pupils on year after year. In practice, this means they have to assign senior members to various roles and responsibilities.