The Throwback

Messrs Shortstead did. The reply from the least senior member of the firm of solicitors, Coole, Poole, Stoole and Folsom and Partners, one Mr Arbutus, stated that while Messrs Shortstead and the author of Song of the Heart, hereafter termed the novel, were prepared to offer Mr Flawse their apologies and his legal costs and if necessary some small sum for his pain and injury, they were in no way obliged nor would consider much less agree to the withdrawal of all unsold copies, etc. The letter ended on the cordial note that Coole, Poole, Stoole and Folsom and Partners looked forward to hearing from Mr Gibling. Mr Gibling and Mr Gibling rather doubted it. They held the matter in abeyance for a fortnight and then struck.

'Four hundred thousand pounds damages? Do my ears deceive me?' said Mr Folsom when Mr Arbutus showed him their reply. 'I have never in all my career read anything so monstrous. Giblings have gone mad. Of course we will contest.' 'Contest?' said Mr Arbutus, 'They must have something…" 'Bluff, boy, bluff,' said Mr Folsom, 'I haven't read the book of course but such a sum is unheard-of in i

But for once Mr Folsom erred. Mr Shortstead, taking his advice, instead of his own intuition which told him that Song of the Heart was somehow a little different in tone from Miss Goldring's other numerous novels, instructed Mr Arbutus to answer in kind and reversing the natural order of things to tell Mr Gibling and Mr Gibling to sue and be damned. And next day on the third floor of Blackstones House, Lincoln's I

'We have them by the nose,' he sang gleefully when Mr Gibling the younger arrived. 'O Lord that I should live to see this day. The nose, brother o' mine, the nose. Read it again. I must hear it.'

And Mr Gibling trembled in litigious ecstasy as the words 'Sue and be damned' quivered in the air.

'Sue and be damned,' he gibbered. 'Sue and be damned. I can hardly wait to hear that threat pronounced by counsel in court. Ah, the judge's face. The beauty, brother, the beauty of it all. The legal life is not without its precious moments. Let us savour the pleasure of this splendid day.'

Mr Partington, the senior clerk, brought in the champagne and Mr Gibling and Mr Gibling sent him to fetch a third glass. Only then did they solemnly toast Mr Lockhart Flawse of 12 Sandicott Crescent for stepping so simultaneously into their lives and out of the pages of Miss Genevieve Goldring's novel with its oh-so-appropriate title. That day there was little work done in Blackstones House, Lincoln's I

It was served the following day and caused little consternation in the offices of Messrs Shortstead and a great deal in those of Coole, Poole, Stoole and Folsom and Partners where Mr Arbutus, having read Song of the Heart, had discovered the horrid nature of the libel published on the aforesaid Lockhart Flawse; namely that he made a habit of being tied by his wife to the bed and being whipped by his wife, Jessica, and vice versa, and when not whipping or being whipped, stole money from banks in the process of which he shot dead several bank cashiers.

'We can't even plead i

'No authoress in her right mind would deliberately set out to write a book in which she named a person she knew and ascribed all these perversions and crimes to him. The thing's a nonsense.' It was a view shared by Genevieve Goldring. 'Never heard of the creature,' she told Mr Shortstead and Mr Arbutus, 'and besides it's an improbable name. Frankly I can't remember having written about anyone called Lockhart Flawse with a wife named Jessica.'

'But it's down there in Song of the Heart' said Mr Arbutus, 'you must have read it. After all, you wrote it.'

Genevieve Goldring snorted. 'I write five novels a year. You can't expect me to read the wretched things as well. I leave the matter in the competent hands of Mr Shortstead here.'

'But don't you check your own proofs?'

'Young man,' said Miss Goldring, 'my proofs don't need checking. Correct me if I'm wrong, Mr Shortstead.'

But Mr Shortstead, while he was begi

Then we are to plead i

Mr Arbutus pointed out that truth was no defence unless in the public interest.

'I should think a bank robber and pervert was of very considerable public interest. It will probably increase the sales of my novels.'

Counsel thought otherwise. 'We haven't a leg to stand on,' said Mr Widdershins, QC. 'I advise settlement. We can't hope to win in court.'

'But won't the publicity do us good even if we pay?' asked Mr Shortstead, pushed into adopting this line by Miss Goldring who was always complaining that her novels were never sufficiently advertised. Mr Widdershins doubted it but, since he was being paid to conduct the defence, he saw no good reason to deprive himself of the financial remuneration a prolonged case was bound to bring him. 'I leave the decision to you,' he said, 'I have given my opinion and that opinion is that we will lose.'

'But they are demanding four hundred thousand pounds in settlement out of court,' said Mr Shortstead, 'and surely no court is going to award damages to that amount. It's outrageous.' It was.

The trial was held in The High Court of Justice, Queen's Bench Division, before Mr Justice Plummery. Mr Widdershins acted for the defendants and Mr Fescue had been instructed by Mr Gibling and Mr Gibling. The latter were in raptures. Mr Justice Plummery had a reputation for barbarous impartiality and a loathing for quibbling barristers. There was no recourse open to Mr Widdershins but to quibble, and to add to the difficulties of the defence there was Miss Goldring who, if she couldn't win the case, was determined to lose it as flamboyantly as possible.

Mr Shortstead sat beside her shivering in the shade of her crimson hat. One look at the plaintiff, Lockhart Flawse, had been enough to tell him that here was a clean upstanding young man of a type he had forgotten existed; who more probably owned banks than robbed them and who, if he was married, treated his wife with a tenderness that was positively chivalrous. Mr Short-stead was a good judge of character.

Mr Fescue rose to present the plaintiff's case. It was an impeccable one. Mr Lockhart Flawse of 12 Sandicott Crescent, East Pursley – and here Mr Widdershins was seen to cover his eyes with his hands and Miss Goldring's hat to quiver – was a close neighbour of the defendant, so close that he was known to her and had on one occasion been invited to tea by her. A note passed to Mr Widdershins from Miss Goldring simply said, 'Liar, bloody liar. I've never seen the little shit in my life,' at which Mr Widdershins' hopes rose a little. They were lowered by Mr Fescue's continued description of Lockhart Flawse's virtue and tribulations subsequent to the publication of Song of the Heart. Among these tribulations the most important had been his sacking from the firm of Sandicott & Partner, Chartered Accountants, where he had been previously employed. Evidence would be produced that his forced retirement from the lucrative profession had been the direct result of Miss Goldring's infamous attack on his private life and his wholly fictitious propensity for robbing banks and murdering cashiers. Mr Fescue, lacking the knowledge, did not mention that Mr Treyer's readiness to provide such evidence had been obtained in a private interview in which Lockhart had explained that unless Mr Treyer was evidentially co-operative he, Lockhart, would be forced by his conscience into revealing the true facts about Mr Gypsum's tax evasion and VAT avoidance to the appropriate authorities, a threat which had been made the stronger by his production of copies of all Mr Gypsum's files, both dummy and real.