Court Out - By Elle Wynne Page 0,21
and the case was adjourned so that the Judge could have the benefit of pre-sentence report, a lengthy document detailing his social and mental history to assist the court in passing an appropriate term. I wonder why Serena isn’t doing this tomorrow? I mean she’s taken all of the money out of the brief with the guilty plea, so by all rights she should finish it.
I spend the rest of the day working on my cases, looking up relevant precedents that relate to sentence and other points of law, eventually giving up and curling up on my side on the chocolate leather sofa in the lounge, where Sebastian finds me.
“What do you fancy for dinner?” he asks, finding a small space between my stomach and knees and sitting down.
“Are you cooking?” I ask, surprised, flicking through the TV channels, stopping when I come across an old episode of Wife Swap
“Nope, we can either pop out or I can call in. Your choice”
Sebastian and I are both equally useless when it comes to culinary matters. The remnants of his last attempt at spaghetti bolognese are still burnt onto the ceiling above the hob in the kitchen. I quite like to cook, but my penchant for adding chili powder to every meal means that you have to have the constitution of a horse to successfully complete one of my gastronomic delights. The final straw came when I added Scotch Bonnets to the Sunday dinner. Needless to say, unless it comes out of a microwavable ready meal, Sebastian won’t touch anything I put in front of him. He’s so unadventurous.
“Hmmm, I could go for a pizza?” I venture.
“Deal, although if we have half each, can you please put something sensible on yours this time? I don’t think I’ve quite recovered from your Mexican Mouth Melter last time.”
“Fine. You order, I’m going to jump in the bath. Give me a shout when it gets here.”
As I relax into the foamy bubbles I contemplate the week ahead. I tend to get so stressed on Sunday evenings; it’s like being back at school again, worrying that you’ve haven’t done all your homework, panicking that you’re going to be picked on by the school bully (E.g., the Judge) and fretting that you’ll give the wrong answer when called on by said bully. I sink deeper into the steaming water, thinking about the upcoming wedding, the reunion and Serena. I don’t realize I’ve dozed off until I hear Sebastian’s insistent voice through the water.
“Lauren, Lauren! Your pizza’ll be stone cold. Come on!”
I reluctantly haul myself out of the now luke warm bath, wrap myself in a fluffy lilac towel and pad downstairs to gorge myself on my stuffed crust meat feast, already looking forwards to the prospect of curling up in bed later to watch Jack Bauer take on the world.
Chapter Five
Farrington Crown Court is predictably busy this Monday morning. As I join the queue to enter the building I see many familiar faces waiting to gain entry: Bill is trying to surreptitiously make his way to the front of the line without being detected. This is never a good idea. Whilst in theory you can pull the ‘Don’t you know who I am card’ whilst sweeping past the waiting members of the public, sods law dictates that most of those you cut in front of will be on your jury and won’t be impressed by your belief that you are superior to them.
I wait my turn, grateful that at least my portion of the queue is underneath the outside canopy, protecting my hair from the rain. One drop of moisture will undo all of my hard work straightening it this morning and cause it to revert to something the eighties forgot. Eventually, after the usual rigmarole with security I make my way to probation to pick up the pre-sentence report for Mr. Lenihan.
Whilst in the probation corridor I quickly whip on my wig and gown having carried them over. The rules state that we can’t be seen outside court in them and after my jaunt with Mr. Walsh on Friday, I’d better be careful. I then walk up the four flights of stairs to the court, being extra careful not to trip on my gown. The last thing I need today is another trip to A and E. There is a lift but given the amount of carbs I’ve consumed over the last three days I’d better at least make some kind of effort to burn some