I’m sitting in their little cafe full of lawyers, solicitors and briefs. One gent is still wearing his white wig like they do inside the courtroom and he’s just queuing up like everybody else, waiting to buy his cup of tea. Other groups have sharp suits, umbrellas and Blackberrys and I can hear them all gossiping behind me and it’s all oh yah, ha ha, Jamie’s off to Manchester. His judgment has gone against him apparently, whatever that means, and he needs to recharge his juices. He doesn’t sound too disappointed though. But I don’t suppose he cares because he’s only the brief. It’s the criminal who actually has to go to prison isn’t it – he’s downstairs in the cells while we’re up here drinking lattes from the coffee shop.
I’m going to have a walk through all the courts and pick a place to sit. It’s really easy to get this far because all you need to do is stroll through security (past the security scanners and have a pat down from the guard) and on the other side of the desk is a wooden display case showing every case that’s playing today. It’s a bit like reading through the pages of the TV Times: this case is rubbish, this one’s all right, I might tune in for that one. Unfortunately it’s all written in legalese but when I was on the tour the other day I found out that all of the cases are listed in order of seniority, so if you want to see the best judge then pick whatever one’s on the left.
Bear in mind that the Royal Courts of Justice is a Civil Court and they very rarely have juries (they only appear on appeals). The kind of cases that they have in here are very slow and sedate, very detailed affairs about property law, finance, libel and immigration. There are no big Hollywood bust-ups about murders, bombings or bank robberies. So if you’re hoping it’s going to be like one of those courtroom dramas on TV then you’re going to go home disappointed.
This place is a maze of long empty, echoing corridors, and you can walk the whole length of them and not see a soul. It’s usually just you and the sound of your own footsteps on the stone floors and I must admit that I was a little bit intimidated standing outside the courtrooms because when you finally tip-toe up to a wooden court door there is invariably no one around to ask what to do. There are no bouncers on the door or anything like that. No ushers. No one there to say it’s okay. It’s literally just a big shut door and you, facing each other off in a cold cavern corridor. And on the other side of that big wooden portal is the judge – someone who has the power to lock you up for a thousand years. And what makes it even more intimidating is that there are some tiny little windows at the side so you can peer inside and see them all talking and discussing the case. Oh Christ, you think to yourself, this is far too scary. It’s very easy to chicken out at this point and I wouldn’t blame you if you sheepishly turned tail and fled, but this is where you need to steel yourself and pluck up some courage. Just take a deep breath and step inside.
The rule for entering the courts is that the public are allowed to come and go as they please unless it specifically says no on the door, without even having to wait for a lull in proceedings. That sounds slightly dubious but trust me – it’s true. We live in a country of open justice and they take the rule quite seriously. No one even looks in your direction. No one cares. You just take a seat at the back and they carry on blathering on about whatever it is they’re talking about like you don’t exist.
A word of advice before you head in: remember to turn off your mobile phone first because you will definitely get told off by the judge if it rings. Especially if it’s one of those annoying ringtones.
I ended up in Court 14 which is a real good-looking court full of varnished old bookcases, leather benches and wood-panelled walls. The lawyers were all wigged-up in their black gowns and the judge looked like a million dollars in his bright red sash. There were also plenty of suited solicitors lounging around at the back, taking notes.
I don’t think I’m allowed to tell you the actual details of the case so you’ll just have to imagine what happened next, but let me sum it up for you in one word: boring. It’s not like it is in the movies, where the solicitors smash their fists down on the table and the judge shouts out Order! Order! whilst the defendant screams out that he’s been framed. It’s just a few suits discussing legal mumbo jumbo.
Unfortunately I never got to find out what happened at the end because after thirty minutes the lawyers wanted to discuss some legal points in private and the judge ordered everybody out. I listened through the keyhole though, ha ha (no I didn’t).
. You might like to go on a guided tour of the Royal Courts of Justice as well. And whilst you’re in the vicinity you might want to go and have a look at Temple Bar and Temple Church. St. Clement Danes and St. Dunstan-in-the-West are also worth a look
