Chamber's politics

One has to be so careful in switching chambers ... The thrill of being accepted ... The cold realisation that it's time to find new digs ... Junior Junior tiptoes through the chambers selection ordeal 

BEGINNING a new life in chambers isn't the same as starting with an employer.

Aside from the obvious differences, the dynamic is quite novel.

I was excited and terrified when that letter arrived before the bar exams saying that I had been conditionally accepted into chambers. 

Being accepted before sitting the exams meant my entire future rode on passing everything, first go. 

There was no option for failure.

Imagine the humiliation of attending chamber's events only to later tell the clerk that I hadn't passed and wouldn't be joining them after all. The shame would be too much. 

Some of my friends took different routes.

One waited until they had passed all three then applied. They sat in February and were determined to start in May, so there were slim pickings when it came to options. 

The poor fellow ended up in an expensive and unpleasant chambers, from which he quickly fled.

Another friend sat the exams and then waited six months to start in order to get into her preferred chambers. A good option, but not always plausible because as soon as employers find out you're planning to decamp to the bar they're keen to replace you asap. 

When I started as a reader I believed that everyone in chambers would be my soul mates. I could not imagine leaving the hallowed group that accepted me, untested and untried.

Sadly, this "happily ever after" idea is another fairy tale. 

In reality, staying with your original chambers is like marrying your first boyfriend or staying with your first ever hairdresser. 

It can happen, but it's unlikely.

Once the champagne and roses settled down I soon realised that the charming old QC was only being nice because of my generally appealing backside and the super-friendly lady barrister is a believer in "friends close and enemies closer". 

So many in my readers' group have discovered they were incompatible with their founding chambers and moved on.

Or were moved on by greedy chambers trying to install new blood by taking on fresh readers at the expense of the established members, meaning junior juniors are sent scrambling for alternative accommodation. It is cut-throat.

I have been very fortunate with my chambers but, as with an okay relationship, I get the feeling that I should be moving on. So I subtly started looking around at what was available. 

Then it happened. The perfect chambers came up. It was like it was meant to be. I applied, interviewed, meet-ed and greeted and schmoozed.

The whole experience was terrifying.

I watched the episode of Silk where Clive Reader attempts to jump ship and I waited for my clerk to sit down next to me at Hotel Chambers and tell me I had been sprung and would forever be his bitch.

I know clerks are an incredibly gossipy bunch and I was worried that my new clerk (said in hope) would let on to another clerk and so on until it made it back to my current clerk.

Phew. It didn't happen. Further, my clerk doesn't have an unnatural attachment to me (à la Billy Lamb) so I was hopeful I wouldn't have my knees shot out should it be discovered I was on the prowl.

Now, the waiting game.

The board meeting of my prospective chambers isn't for another two weeks so I will just have to wait and see, and pray that everyone keeps their traps shut until it is all in the bag.

I am wavering between picking new bookshelves and thinking that I'll be jinxed if I get ahead of myself. 

I am back at the start. Back waiting to see if I am accepted. This time will be different. It won't be a mixture of elation and dread. Just plain old excitement.