A Hallowed Place [antikvár]

Chapter oneirlmI IIDuring the long vacation, that fallow summer period falling between the end of the Trinity Term and the beginning of the Michaelmas Term, the Iims of Court in the City of London fall into a drowse. The air barely lifts the leaves of the lofty plane trees, the lanes and courtyards lie quiet and warm, trodden only by the occasional barrister or clerk. The judges have shed their wigs and gowns, and the courts are hushed and still. In the days before the reign of that misimderstood and much-maligned lord chancellor. Lord MacKay, the Rules of the Supreme Court stated that 'time does not run' during the long vacation. This 'ruruung of time' refers to the time Umits within which lawyers, in the conduct of htigation, are required to progress the various stages of their case. The notion of its suspension aptly captures the air of torpor and inactivity which hangs about the City in the dog days. As though, in the geriatric world of the law, it ever managed anything above a reluctant shuffle. Nowadays, of course, under brisk new rules designed to encourage lawyers to prosecute the affairs of their cUents as dihgently as at any other time of the year, it is stated that time does rim in the long vacation. But, in truth, nothing has changed much. Extensions to time limits are sought and granted, and if time runs an5rwhere, it is in Tuscan villas and on sun-kissed tropical beaches, where barristers and solicitors take their hard-earned rest. The City slumbers throughout August, vmtil the lawyers return in September, rested and refreshed, sporting sim-bleached hair and rich tans.