RANDOM REMINDER

Press, Volume CIII, Issue 30534, 1 September 1964, Page 22

RANDOM REMINDER

’TIL DEATH, OR THE LAWYER .

Marital bliss may readily become a blister, through the most apparently inconsequential set of circumstances. Here they were, a sort of juvenile Darby and Joan, until that dreadful day the mail arrived. Of course it came on other days, but that sort of interruption spoils the story. The letter was from a solicitor, one of those regular, family, friendly, advisory sort of solicitors, and they had been on firstname terms for years. Yet the letter said that he, the solicitor had been telephoning for several days but had not received an answer, this although the woman of the house had been home. Or her husband thought later she said she had. At all events, the letter asked the man to ring the solicitor, which he did. The solicitor, on the telephone, seemed strangely short and terse and neither used the client’s Christian name

nor asked about the health of his wife. There was not even a mention of little Peter’s measles. But he wanted to see the man in his office as soon as possible. The poor client, thinking that the call could only have been something to do with a joint family arrangement the solicitor had jacked up for them, asked if he should bring his wife with him. “Not at this stage” was the brusque answer. “What’s it all about?” the client asked. The Law: The matter you discussed with me recently. Client: I’ve discussed many things with you. What is this one? The Law: That special matter. Client: What special matter? The Law: I think I’d better make sure I’m taking to the right person before I say any more.

The client by Dis stag) had come to the Irm conclusion that th astute lawyer to whom h had er, trusted his busine:- had become overnight raving lunatic. Moreover,through a half-closed door le could see his wife and faiily eyr ing him anxiously. But the man contained himse' admirably. “Surely” he sai “Yon know me, Barnaba.Bottleboy?” There was a longiilencft Then the lawyer spoke. There had, he said, een an awful mistake. And then, the enouement. There wen two Barnabas Bottlebos, or something, on the Iwyer’s books. The letter ha been sent to the wrong on And it was not some aspet of a joint family home e had wanted to discuss with young Darby and mung Joan. He had beenplanning to promote thei into a separation agreemet.