"Guilty" he replies in a low voice.

He's followed by Walker "Guilty!" he cries, his voice shaking with emotion. Hobbs' turn comes next. He looks furious. I wonder if he knew that the others were going to drop him in it. Evidently not. Quinn rushes to the dock and they have a brief, muttered conference beneath the glass. Quinn returns to his seat and nods at the clerk. Again, the charge is read to him "On this indictment you stand charged of conspiracy to pervert the course of justice," she reads. She carries on to read out the particulars offence then asks, "To this charge do you plead guilty or not guilty?"

Hobbs is shaking his head.

"Mr. Hobbs you need to enter a plea," interjects the Judge. In response, Hobbs gives an indecipherable reply.

"Speak up please Mr. Hobbs," the Judge instructs.

"I said guilty!" he yells.

A wave of murmurs goes around the room. Bill yelps and I realise I've been squeezing him a bit too hard. I release my grip and he pats me on the knee. Three down, one to go.

My gaze is fixed firmly on Serena, who in turn, has her eyes only on the court clerk. Again, the charge is read to her. I hold my breath. She seems to take an age to reply to the allegation. When she does, my heart, my thoughts and time seems to stop.

"Guilty."

As the Judge starts going through the formalities for setting a date for sentence, I feel a hand tap me on the shoulder. Shocked, I jump a mile in fright. As I regain my composure, I turn to see a friendly faced middle-aged lady in a short black gown staring back at me in bewilderment. It's my court usher.

"Verdict," she whispers.

Gosh, that was quick. I rise to my feet and try to make my way out as unobtrusively as possible. The only route is past the dock. I'm determined not to look at any of them, but as I pass, I find myself meeting the gaze of my former best friend. There is no hint of apology in her stony expression, if anything she's looking at me like I'm the one in the wrong.

With a quick glimpse around to check no-one is watching I lean closer to the glass. I know I should be the bigger person here, but we're so far past that it's not funny.

"Enjoy prison," I carefully mouth and walk out of the courtroom.

I hurry up the stairs, grab Mr. Walsh and wait for the jury to reconvene. I feel oddly light; I guess the proverbial weight has indeed now been lifted. Sebastian and I are going for dinner tonight and I suspect I'll get through more than a few bottles, I mean glasses, of wine.

To his credit, Mr. Walsh hasn't put up much by way of protest regarding the way I've manhandled him into court and I should say, for the record, that most barristers don't usually physically assault their clients. In this instance, I'd like to think that given our history, we have transcended the usual bond between lawyer and Defendant, but in reality, I'm curious to see what is going to happen.

After depositing my Defendant in the dock I shuffle anxiously back into my seat, avoiding the stares of the waiting court staff and my opponent. The Judge enters and we go through the usual rigmarole as the jury return to their positions and the foreman is invited to get to his feet.

From the way the smartly dressed Asian man rises and confirms that they have reached a unanimous verdict I can safely surmise that he's someone who clearly enjoys the spotlight. The charge is read to him and he is asked to record the verdict on which he and his eleven peers are all agreed.

There is a pause and I hold my breath, raising my pen poised above the already heavily endorsed brief. I can't help it. I look up and meet the gaze of the foreman. To my amazement, he winks at me before speaking.

"Not guilty."

end.