No July would be complete without Peacock Chambers’ summer party.   This year, there is an added incentive for attendance: the set has been the subject of a glorious scandal!  And there is nothing like a bit of sexual intrigue to make the legal professional sit up and take note; the venue is overflowing with black-suited sticky beaks when we arrive.

“So which ones are the accused?” Liz cranes her neck to see.

“The one hanging their heads in shame, I should hope,” Jane sniffs.

“I doubt it!” Alex laughs.  “If I know anything about barristers and men,” Does he ever…. “They will be in the middle of the room, boasting about their achievements.”

And so they are.

“It was all pack of lies!” declares the silver-fox Head of Chambers. “I would never do anything improper in the course of my management of this set.”

“Of course not,” they all agree.

“It would be improper to say too much about it, obviously.”

“Obviously.”

“But I must tell you, I was appalled that one of my colleagues could make such slanderous and damaging accusations against me, especially when I had tried so hard to guide and mentor her.”

“Appalling.”

“One doesn’t expect one’s associates to turn on one in quite such an astonishing manner.”

“No.”

“But it’s the scourge of the modern age, thanks to the liberal laws we live by these days.”

“The scourge.”

“I mean!   We never had any of sexual  discrimination complaints when I was a tenant.”

That is because there were no female lawyers when he was a tenant.

You see the story goes like this:  a junior female barrister claimed that Peacock Chambers was full of lecherous old miscreants who would only share work in return for sexual favours.  Old Silver Fox, for example, was said to be having it away with (at least) two of the tenants and directing the Clerks to give them the best work.  As the Claimant wasn’t prepared to indulge these requests, she lost of fee income and eventually sued.   The truly astonishing thing about the case was that it went to trial.   All the sordid details were splashed over the front page of The Daily Mail.

It was great.  Like Dynasty with wigs.

Each day brought a new revelation: the size of their bank accounts, the value of their properties, even the colour of their underpants.  Our favourites were wheeled out to give evidence: Roger Fortesque-Smythe, Ben de Vellington and, even, their lovely, cuddly clerk, Gary, who said she was an, ‘hysterical nutcase, with psycopathic tendencies,‘ which, in Gary’s world meant: didn’t laugh at his jokes.

It was the best scandal in ages.

And just as we thought she would make legal history.

She lost.

The tribunal found no evidence of “sexual impropriety” and she had, it concluded, made it all up.

“I can’t believe she didn’t win,” Jane grumbles,  “Just look at them all; posturing about like testosterone-charged baboons.”

“I know,” Liz agrees.  “Actually, I’m not sure what’s worse: the protagonists or the groupies they have suddenly attracted.”

She points to the crowd of eager females gathered around to get a piece of the action

“They all have reputations as raging lotharios now,” Liz admits.  “Even Silver Fox has gone from being Rumpole of the Bailey to Blake Carrington, over night.

“If I didn’t know better,” I muse, “I would think they had encouraged the claim just to bolster their egos.”

“Why does everything have to come down to sex?”  Jane sighs.

“Biology,” Alex points out.  “It’s hard to fight our genes.”

“I manage to fight mine on a daily basis!”

“You are an evolutionary exception.”

In more ways than one.

“But what if this girl really did make it all up?” Liz asks.

“What? Risk her money and reputation to be publicly humiliated under cross examination?” Jane exclaims.  “She would have to be pretty crazy, don’t you think?”

“Some might say it goes with the territory?”

We survey the mass of braying, boastful bores and have to agree.

“Where are the lucky ladies Silver Fox was said to be entangled with?” Alex looks around. “I can’t see Alexis or Krystal anywhere.”

“They’re probably having a cat fight in the lily pond,” I offer.

“Either that or they’ve been sold into white slavery,” Jane sniffs.

She’s almost right, they are speaking to Miranda.

“There’s a woman who knows a thing or two about sleeping her way to success,” I observe. “Do you think they’re swapping tips?”

We watch as they laugh and giggle like a group of teenagers; paying no attention to what each other is saying, but tossing their hair and pouting their lips with Olympic prowess.

“What makes three intelligent, attractive, feisty women resort to that kind of behaviour?” Alex asks.

“What you mean using their feminine wiles to gain promotion?”

“Yeah.  I mean, they are bright and good looking, they could have any man they chose.”

“But, that’s the point,” Liz argues, “They chose their boss.”

“But why?”

And there lies the question.   Jane is about to launch into a lecture on the increasing hypersexualisation and the promotion of gender inequality in society, when I receive an indecent proposal of my own.

“Ah, the lovely Helen.”  Philip Carlton is standing behind me with a distincctly lascivious look on his face.

“Hello Mr Carlton,” I nod politely.  Please go away! Please go away!

“Do call me Philip, we’re friends aren’t we?”

No.

“Of course, Philip. How are you?”

“All the better for seeing you.  You ‘re keeping well, I see.”

I immediately slouch my shoulders, wrinkle my nose and make myself as unattractive as possible. “It must be all those long hours and hard work Alistair keeps making me do.”

“I would never know.”

“No?  Well he has.  You know Alistair – never gives me a minute’s peace.”

“I don’t blame him,”

Eeeuggrrrggh !

“No?  Well,  er, have you met my colleagues?”

“No, I don’t think I have.”

“Guys, this is Philip Carlton, he’s a friend of Alistair’s.”

“Pleasure to meet you.” He makes the mistake of looking Jane and Liz up and down.

“Are you that partner accused of sexual harassment?” Jane retorts.

For a moment his eyes flash with astonishment, but they quickly smooth over. “It was one of the unfortunate aspects of a decision we made to let a failing employee go.  As much as I hate to say this,  it seems to be the fashion these days to make false accusations in an employment tribunal, as, I’m sure, this Chambers will testify.”

“I’m sure it will,” Jane admits.  “So often these things get settled out of Court. And one can never be sure of what really happened….”

“That’s the sad, commercial reality of litigation,” his eyes are cold now, “It is cheaper to pay them than to fight them.”

Spoken like a harassment veteran.

“Cheaper still to avoid them!” she laughs.

“Yes indeed, but it is not so easy these days, when one is in a position of power.”

I bet.

“Alistair tells me that you have moved to some swanky new premises?” He addresses me.

“Yes,” I nod, as Jane pulls faces behind his back.  “They are a bit more swish than we used to have, but I’m sure it won’t take long before they’re as messy and cluttered as before.”

“I don’t believe your office could be messy, Helen.”

“Oh, it could be.”

“No, you strike me as the kind of girl who likes to keep things in order…….”

“She is,” Jane sucks the innuendo out of the air and eats it. “She has a very professional approach to work.”

“Yes, I have been on the receiving end of Helen’s professionalism.   She is very good.”

“The best.  Particularly when it comes to dealing with difficult clients.”

His lips curl into an unpleasant smirk, as Silver Fox spots him and calls him over.

“Carlton old thing!   Good to see you .  Do come and join in our little debate.”

“If you will excuse me,” he nods. “It’s lovely to see you Helen.  I hope our paths cross again in the not too distant future.”

I don’t.

He moves off to join the merry band.

“It’s like a deviants’ tea party in here,” Jane observes.

“You should be careful what you say around here,” Liz warns “They won’t think twice about slapping a libel suit on you.”

She rolls her eyes, in an infuriated manner.  “I’m only saying what everyone else is thinking!  This party seems to be  populated by predatory perverts!”

She says this a little too loudly and immediately attracts the attentions of Ben de Vellington.

“This sounds like an interesting conversation….”

“It was,” she mutters.

“Yes!” Liz agrees, “We were just saying that this party is very popular with important partners.”

“We seem to have a big turn out,” he agrees. “It’s astonishing what a bit of publicity can do.”

“Indeed.  I bet you’ll be inundated with instructions to defend employment claims now.”

“I do hope so.  Although, I must admit, our success was more about the righteousness of our arguments than the quality of our defence.”

“Oh, really?” Jane says this with a heavy dusting of sarcasm, but he doesn”t notice.

“We knew we were right,” he nods.

“That must be the first case you’ve had where you were certain of the moral high ground,” Liz steps in.

“It was an intriguing position to find oneself in,” he admits. “We found it hard to understand how someone we had welcomed into Chambers could be so ungrateful.”

“Perhaps she felt she had no choice?” Jane muses.

“Of course she had a choice,” he sniffs. “Do you see any other female members of Chambers behaving like that?”

Nope, they’re all too busy sucking up to Silver Fox.

“Perhaps she too believed in the righteousness of her cause?”

“No, she was just out to make money,” he shakes his head. “But it seems to have backfired.  She’s out of work whilst we have become the darlings of the Employment Bar.  She should have kept her head down and got on with the job.”

But some people are better at doing that than others.