Free Court Out by Elle Wynne

spike heel and walk back to the now familiar cupboard. Happily he has acceded to my request and has perched on the side of the table. I weigh up the merits of telling him he’s not in a barn and decide against it; at the moment we have bigger fish to fry.
    “I have here a copy of your pre-sentence report. In it, you appear to have said that you were pressurised into pleading guilty. Firstly, do you accept that this is what you said?”
    He looks at me defiantly.
    “Yes, too right that’s what I said!”
    I take a deep breath. Crunch time.
    “Ok, second question, do you maintain that that is actually what happened?”
    “Hell yes. That bitch made me do it. I was all ready for my trial, had all my defence witnesses here too. She told me that if I had a trial I would definitely be found guilty and I’d go to prison for twice as long because of it. I mean that’s a lot of porridge.”
    I exhale. If this is true then Serena has really messed up. I’m going to have to explain all of this to the Judge in a minute and hope he’ll allow Mr. Lenihan to remove his plea. Serena will have to come to court to explain herself too.
    “Right Mr. Lenihan, I’ll make the court aware of your position and don’t forget that the Judge will have a copy of this report too, so all is not lost yet.”
    I spend a few minutes reminding him of the possible consequences of this route and leave him, satisfied that he knows his options. Why on earth would Serena have done this? Of course, it may all be a load of nonsense concocted by Mr. Lenihan in an attempt to backtrack, scared of what the Judge might do to him today. Relief washes over me. Yes! That must be it. He’s just panicking about going to prison and wants to buy himself more time.
    I open the brief and look for Serena’s endorsement from the last occasion. It’s customary to get Defendant’s ‘signed up’; asking them to put their name to a paragraph on the back of the brief confirming that they do want to plead guilty and that no pressure has been put on them to do so. Despite several minutes spent carefully poring over the pages, I can’t find anything resembling this. Damn. I turn on my phone and try Serena’s number several times but her phone appears to be switched off.
     
    As Mr. Lenihan’s case is called on into court I hear my heart beating in my ears and feel slightly nauseous. It’s one thing when you have to explain your mistakes to a crowded court, but to have to land a friend in it is a whole different story. I push open the heavy door and see with horror that the well of the court is full of barristers from our set of Chambers, including a number of very senior members. In my head I try and formulate a paragraph that will let the Judge know what has happened without telling everyone assembled.
    I take my seat at the front of the court and wait for the Defendant to be identified. After Mr. Lenihan has confirmed his details, I rise shakily to my feet and speak
    “May it please Your Honour, I represent the Defendant and my Learned Friend Mr., Mr.-”
    Oh no. What’s Glenn’s surname? I look helplessly over to where he is sitting in the hope that there will be something identifying near him. Most barristers write their name in big letters on the side of their Archbold so they don’t get stolen, but I can’t see one anywhere near him. After a long pause, I accept defeat and lean over.
    “What’s your surname?” I whisper.
    He looks at me mischievously, playing with a calculator in front of him.
    “What’s it worth?” he sniggers.
    “It’s worth the use of your right foot,” I threaten, indicating to my heel hovering precariously close to his toes.
    “Shepherd” he squeaks, quickly moving his foot out of the danger area.
     
    I straighten up and give the Judge a winning smile.
    “I represent the Defendant and my Learned Friend Mr. Shepherd prosecutes. As Your Honour will have seen from the pre-sentence report, there is an issue over the guilty plea