Felix went to court yesterday.
The CPS barrister
had evidently not had time to read the psychiatrist's report (which had only been delivered to him the day before) having been overwhelmed by his case load. Felix's barrister
actually managed to apprise the CPS's chap of the essentials of the case, before the court session began.
Ergo, when it came to court, the charge was read out, Felix pleaded (not guilty, obviously), and the prosecution offered no evidence, and Felix was discharged without a blot on his escutcheon.
It was a bit of a waste of everyone's time and a deal of public money, and, I guess, it really didn't need to go as far as it did.
I'd managed to drop SWMBO at King's College Hospital at 9.00 and got to the Crown Court at 10.00: booted, suited, and ready to testify if required. Thankfully it wasn't required.
Steph just about managed the journey to the Royal Marsden without assistance, and doesn't have to return until September.
The parent's-in-law picked up the keys from a neighbour and busied themselves painting the nursery.
All in all, a set of wins for everyone.
Later last evening Marcus Malone sent me an email with an attachment of the song 'Would it Matter', which I wrote some twenty years ago, and which he has just recorded. It sounds pretty good, actually, though he called it 'Could it Matter'. What's a consonant between old chums, hey? Fortune favour him.
Go well and do good things.