When I arrived at college both the Union Handbook (Things You Can Do For Free) & various lecturers recommended trips to court. To sit in the public gallery & really learn about, or be entertained by, the world & its ways
Since the Old Bailey, Bow Street & the Royal Courts of Justice were nearby this was good advice, which I took to heart
My first venture into the Royal Courts offered real excitement. James Bond was on trial! Or, at least, Ian Fleming was being sued
It was surprisingly easy to get in - the public gallery was crowded but not full. The well of the court was crowded too, though not much seemed to be happening. I caught a glimpse of the Fleming profile
Then the usher approached. Asked me to Hutch up a bit, make room for this lady
The seats, highly polished narrow wooden benches, were steeply raked. So I first noticed the legs, which were elegantly crossed. Well polished leather court shoes, & very expensive stockings
I started to take covert peeks at my new neighbour. Fully tailored dark green suit (which we called a costume in those days) – straight narrow skirt reaching below the knee; jacket with buttons, collar, full length sleeves & nipped-in waist. Hair dark, in a grown-up style. She may have been wearing a small hat too, can’t remember now. Full make-up, perfectly applied. Powder, deep red lipstick, well-plucked eyebrows, mascara. And a beautiful fur stole which seemed to ripple even as she sat still
Think Joan Crawford in a 1950s film
But she was quite young – in my own mind I put her at 27 or 29, max
This was the beginning of the Swinging Sixties! Pale pink lipstick, false eyelashes, eye liner! Mary Quant & the Kings Road!
Why would someone who could afford anything she wanted settle for clothes which my mother (even my gran) would be proud to wear?
The proceedings bored me. No dramatic cross examination, just polite & barely audible conversation. I left
In the corridor the usher came up to me
Do you know who that was?
Ian Fleming, I said
No, no. The lady I brought in
No
That was Bobo Sigrist
I decided that being an heiress was not all it was cracked up to be if it brought with it that kind of repression – (pseudo-Freudian analysis was one of the intellectual pretensions of the time)
And I was very surprised to read, in among all the coverage of Bonds 50th anniversary, that the Thunderball case was finally settled a mere 10 years ago
