Christmas chaos

Richmond in North Yorkshire was an oasis of calm in an otherwise full-speed month. A lawyer friend with whom I trained (now a PFI partner in a large national firm) celebrated her 40th birthday with a girls' weekend away. We stayed in funky modern log cabins, indulged in beauty treatments and walks in the crisp fresh air and ate at a gastro pub in a nearby village as the main event. Our accommodation came with an organic food and drink hamper stuffed with goodies such as fresh bread and crumbling Wensleydale, not to mention the rather delicious organic wines which are meant to give you less of a hangover if seriously indulged in because of their lack of preservatives. Maybe it's an urban myth started by organic wine producers '“ but we had four bottles between eight of us anyway, so I doubt that qualifies as sufficient consumption to test the theory.

The weekend was really enjoyable but very different from the same friend's 30th when seven of us headed to New York for a long weekend of shopping, sightseeing and nightlife sampling. This year's more mellow choice was in part dictated by circumstances. Several of the attendees now have young children, and two further potentials were absent as they were in the late stages of pregnancy. So it was that eight girls, all lawyers, assembled in the UK to mark this occasion.

So, lawyers. I like to think that I am a reasonably good role model for my children but when my oldest was offered the chance to wear an outfit for Children in Need day, reflecting what she wants to be when she grows up, she announced not that she would don a suit and be a solicitor, but that she would go as a fairy. While this didn't seem overly ambitious, I let it slide as she's just four years old. However, when we discussed it further it transpired that she actually wanted to emulate her auntie, who is a specialist cancer nurse at Christie's, but as she didn't have a nurse's uniform she was going to settle for her fairy outfit. The fact that she didn't demand nurse's attire to fill this obvious gap in her wardrobe of course melted my heart and sent me steaming out to the shops the next day to rectify the position. She looked great and I was pleased that it outwardly demonstrated a desire to contribute something truly worthwhile to society in later life. I still can't think why she doesn't hold her bloodsucking shark lawyer of a mother in such high esteem...

The Christmas run-up

Back in the adult world, I am truly hectic both in work and socially. How many Christmas parties can people have? Somewhere in between them all I will be slogging hard in preparation for defending a property misdescription trial in mid-December (merry Christmas) and for a mediation in a case which the claimant says is worth £5m (we have a rather different view) in early January 2010. If I could just ask Santa for a couple of extra weeks to be slotted into December it would all be simple. But, rather typically, the property case, whose value pales into insignificance in the shadow of the other, is the one which is currently proving the trickiest with its mix of rare legal issues, tonnes of emotions and larger than life characters a-plenty.

The higher-value case, on the other hand, concerns the complex investment arena of film finance '“ a tax deferral scheme for the very wealthy which came under government scrutiny several years back and ended up backfiring horribly, hence the current trickle of cases behind which stands a bulging dam of potential litigants who are simply biding their time. The big case we were all keenly observing last summer settled confidentially halfway through trial. So, we could end up being the test case, which is enormously exciting as it would be truly law-making '“ but a little scary also.

A bump in the night

With all of this going on, I could really have done without returning to my parked car on Monday night after work to find a huge dent in the passenger door. Luckily, there was also a scrappy note on the windscreen apologising for the 'bump' and leaving a mobile number for the perpetrator. The conversation began well, with a further apology from her and a magnanimous acceptance from me, followed by my thanking her for having the decency to leave a note. So far, so good. We wobbled a little when she hinted that it may not have been her fault entirely as the street was dark and my car is navy blue! I merely pointed out that it was a winter's evening in south Manchester, hence the lack of blinding sunshine, and also that I had parked right underneath a working streetlamp. I stopped short of quipping that I would change my Santa letter to ask for a new luminous yellow car, or suggesting that she should put reverse parking sensors on her Christmas list.

On that festive note, I'll finish off by wishing you a very merry Christmas, and happy times ahead in 2010.

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