‘Don’t worry,’ Reid responded. ‘I know you don’t need the ego boost.’

Michael knew his friend hadn’t taken offence at his words, but he still felt uncomfortable. And now Reid was looking at him searchingly, sensing his discomfort.

‘Listen to me, Michael.’ Reid’s tone had changed, becoming more serious. It made Michael sit up and take notice, as though sixteen years had not passed since they were pupil and pupil-master. ‘I know what’s wrong with you, and you have to stop. You can’t keep feeling bad about taking the case. It was leaving me as soon as the judge granted a silk’s certificate. At least it’s gone to you. With you, Simon’s still got a chance.’

The compliment made Michael’s heart beat a little faster and brought a smile to his face. A reaction which both embarrassed him and reminded him of the strange relationship that would always exist between a barrister and his former pupil-master. For six months, aged just twenty-one, Michael had been Reid’s shadow. They had worked together, travelled together, eaten and – most of all – drank together. It was an experience unique to being a pupil barrister; no other profession involves such intense proximity in its training. Sometimes it doesn’t work. Mostly it works well. And sometimes – most rarely – it forms the basis for a lifelong friendship and mutual respect. Michael and Reid were very much within that rare third category, and yet it did not take much for Michael to feel like that twenty-one-year-old kid again, basking in his pupil-master’s praise.

He wondered if that would ever change.

‘They still should have kept it with you.’

‘Water under the bridge.’ Reid’s tone signalled an end to the matter. ‘Now tell me: have you met your junior yet?’

‘Not yet.’

It was common in the most serious cases for a defendant to have two barristers instead of one. A leader – often a QC – and a junior. With both usually chosen by the solicitor, it was not rare that the two would not know one another before taking the case. And so it was not unusual that Michael had never met Jenny Draper.

‘What’s she like?’ Michael asked

‘Very bright and very hardworking.’ Reid was almost smirking as he spoke.

‘The perfect combination.’ Michael smiled. He could read his friend like a book. ‘But that’s not telling me what she’s like, is it?’

‘Blonde and attractive.’ Reid laughed aloud. ‘So be bloody careful.’

Both men broke into laughter at the conversation’s sudden turn.

‘As if you need to tell me that,’ Michael finally managed to say. ‘I’m not in my twenties any more!’

‘Piss off,’ Reid replied, making no attempt to keep his voice down. ‘You were just as bad in your early thirties. And you’d still be now if you hadn’t met Sarah.’

‘But I did meet her, Derek, didn’t I?’

‘More’s the pity for her, poor girl.’ Reid lowered his voice again. ‘But seriously, Michael. Jenny Draper’s got a reputation. The girl likes a silk.’