Lady Hale’s Christmas diary (as told to Quentin Letts)

They say I must retire next month when I turn 75. Irritating. I have been a member of the Supreme Court since 2009 but its president — a term I do like — only since 2017. There is still much to be done. Julian, my current spouse, indicates he has little desire to have me under his heels at home. I would merely get in the way of his dusting and the Tupperware parties he holds every month with other SW1 house-husbands. Jolyon Maugham QC — a slightly familiar young man, but I am told he has the right views — comes to see me. He proposes challenging the legality of my compulsory retirement, perhaps using the Scottish courts. We could ‘crowd-fund’ the costs, he says. I doubt there are that many fools in the world. ‘You’d be surprised,’ says Mr Maugham. He feels we could pursue the case all the way to the top, i.e. to the Supreme Court. Given tiresome levels of press scrutiny I suppose I might have to recuse myself from any such judgment. Could I rely on my fellow justices to reach the right decision without my helping hand?

As I once told Barack Obama (I think he was grateful for my advice), a president must be a leader, a strategist and a disciplinarian. At October’s state opening of parliament, one of my colleagues sauntered into the House of Lords with hand in pocket. ‘Wilson!’ I exclaimed. ‘This is not a queue for the bookmaker’s!’ I told him I would sew up his trouser pockets if we had a repeat of that sort of thing.