Jeremy Clarke Jeremy Clarke

Caught out

A social leper tells you of his miserable existence

issue 09 August 2003

First thing Monday morning I was in court. No car tax. When I eventually found the magistrate’s court, it was like the Marie Celeste. No defendants hanging round the entrance smoking, no receptionist behind the glass in the foyer, no ushers, no solicitors briefing anxious clients in the corridor at the last moment, no cleaners, nobody.

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