You knew too much
2011-01-11 | 8:46 p.m.

I've put off writing in here for the past few days, not because nothing interesting is happening, but because only with some reluctance am I sharing. You have to promise to take your judging hats off. And then I shall begin.

What I failed to mention last month was that whilst the start of my December was completely fandabidosy, in contrast the week in the run up to Christmas was a bit more nightmarish, which included it becoming glaringly obvious that what happened with the Journo was DEFINITELY a one off and my having a very, very shitty week at work for reasons which I won't bore you with but which almost led to the demise of my friendship with Robin, who'd been my best friend at work.

A bit of background: I began working with my current court clerk (let's call him the New Clerk as he's only been at the Bailey just over a year) in October and despite having been friendly with him for several months now, and him being good friends with Jenn too, it was only really during December that we began to get closer. We'd go for lunch, or drinks with other stenos and he got me home ok after the CPS party, taking me all the way to my doorstep. I forgot about that.

In the week before Christmas when I was having aforementioned Shit Time, he made everything about my week Much Less Shit. This included inviting me to a special judges/clerks/ushers lunch (which the stenos were not party to!) and getting me a present of the DVD of Rebecca - one of the most thoughtful gifts I've ever received as he remembered from ages ago my tale of how I loaned my gran my treasured Rebecca book, which she kind-heartedly donated to a charity shop after reading it. Really I'd wanted it back.

Over the Christmas holidays we were in contact every single day and he seemed to be on my mind a lot more than anyone else. Last Tuesday was our first day back at work and New Clerk asked if I wanted to go for a 'back to work' drink. Splendid idea obviously. And for brevity I can say that that night and then again Sunday night involved him coming back to mine can probably guess the rest. It's utter torture being in court (SITTING RIGHT NEXT TO HIM) every day and having to act like we're nothing more than two wheels in the cogs of justice that keep proceedings flowing smoothly.

The worst thing though is that he's leaving soon to go travelling (as in working a second job in a pub to earn enough money for travelling-type seriousness - 'tis no pipe dream, alas) so any relationship has essentially failed before it's even begun. Jenn (one of my two confidantes thus far, and here I am broadcasting to the entire Internet) thinks I should just enjoy it and have fun, but I'm terrified of being heartbroken yet again so I'm going to attempt to whip my emotions into retreat. I did say to New Clerk on Sunday that we probably shouldn't 'do this' again. And yesterday after the smug, grinning 'I had sex today' look on my face had worn off I just felt miserable.

But then today after work, once everyone had gone, he took me on a little private tour, round scores of rooms and corridors and alleys in the Old Bailey that I never even knew existed. We did Dead Man's Walk and he told me the history of how each brick wall arch you walked through lost a brick in width and became narrower and narrower to avoid wannabe escapists eluding the hangman's noose. Completely creepy and fascinating. Back in the building we kissed in two secret lifts we travelled in and then again as we said goodbye on the floor of my office, since no one was about. No feelings, yeah? I may be in trouble...

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