The decade that style forgot.

The decade that style forgot.

It wasn’t going well. The courtroom was hot, he could feel the sweat running down his sides and he had to keep wiping his forehead which he knew gave the impression that he was under a lot of stress, which he was. There was another hour before the normal daily finishing time of 4 o’clock and even the judge looked bored and sleepy.

            He was suing the Red Star shipping line for negligence because he had broken his left leg on a cruise on the Mediterranean Princess. He had slipped on the wet upper deck when he took a walk during some rough weather near the Messina Straits. He enjoyed the exhilaration of walking on a tilting deck with the spray hitting his face as the ship burrowed into a wave, the the wind whipping the spray high into the air.

            His solicitor had taken him through the story of the accident and in the process had the jury in tears. Now Peter had to face the cross examination from the lawyer who was representing the shipping line. He was totally different to Peter’s solicitor. He was very smartly dressed and had that healthy corn-fed look that you only see on successful lawyers and hospital consultants. His shirts were obviously from Asher and Turnbull and his suit had never seen the ‘George’ rail in Marx and Sparx. Peter’s solicitor would never take silk, he would be lucky if he took tweed and had a rumpolled air about him as if he was just coping with the job he was doing but it was all getting a little beyond him on a bad day, like this.

            ‘So Mr Stile, did you not hear the Captain’s announcement on the ship’s loudspeaker system at, I believe 1322 on that Friday, advising all passengers who wished to walk on the upper deck to use extreme caution and make full use of the handrails fitted for their safety?’

            ‘Yes, I did,’admitted Peter intimidated by the immaculately suited and booted lawyer..

            ‘And did you retain a strong hold on the handrails provided by my client for your safety during your perambulations?’

            ‘Err no,’ he stuttered

            ‘And why not, may I ask?’

            ‘I didn’t remember, I suppose.’

            ‘”You, didn’t remember, I suppose”, ‘ the barrister repeated, ‘and because of this lapse of memory we are all assembled in this stifling courtroom to hear how you came to break your leg.  And, furthermore, you are asking my client to pay for this event when in fact it was caused by the deck aid that Stile forgot.’

            ‘Case dismissed’ said the judge.